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sollucets · 2 years

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ocean eyes, iii

this one got away from me!!!! usual caveats; named & described listener ocs, ivy they/them & aster they/she/he. hazel (baabe, they/them) and kieran (sh, he/him) are also namedropped here but do not appear.

we are no longer in platonic territory! while i was writing this i sort of figured out things about this story that i did not know in the fever dream rush of writing the first two parts; the two parts in question have now been edited (especially ii, which now has a whole new scene featuring ivy&sam) and this baby is on ao3!!

ok. part three: ivy & aster watch sense and sensibility, david comes home early, there are backstory hints, and everybody has a lot of unpleasant realizations. there is a pov switch in the middle. it’s like 5k! alarming!

on ao3, or full thing under the cut

💜

So they keep needling at Ivy, and eventually, like they always knew they could, they wear them down. Ivy agrees to come over and watch a movie on a Wednesday David won't be home, and if they make sure they're "accidentally" wrong about the time he's supposed to get back, who can blame them?

They coax Ivy into a blanket pile in the "home theater", which is actually the living room, and the best they can do for theater lighting is turn the lights off since it's not completely dark out yet, but the TV is big, and there are lots of cozy beanbags, so it's basically the same thing.

Aster has the urge to cover Ivy in soft things often, honestly. They just always look so sharp, sharp words and sharp chin and sharp jerky movements. Aster knows how to be like that, how to match edges for edges, how to respond in kind. How to fight. And they like it, too, the shimmering, exciting push and pull of sarcasm and insults and real intentions just under the surface. How else would they have loved Davey all this time?

But he isn't always like that, not with them, not anymore, and they don't always want to be like that with Ivy either. They want to be kind to Ivy, who has so obviously known kindness rarely. And if they don't want to examine that impulse too much, then that's fine, too.

Aster feels like they should probably be officially knighted for their services to the grumpy werewolf cause at this point.

They'd taken one look at Ivy and David at the table, that first check-in, and decided they needed to intervene. For anyone else with that kind of strained relationship, maybe silence would've been a good outcome. Maybe it would've been enough just to have them seeing each other. But for them? Both of them are caustic and rude, even (and in Ivy's case perhaps especially) to people they like, and they hadn't heard a single curse out of either of their mouths that entire night. Once the business stuff was done and David had gotten his Alpha protectiveness out of the way, they'd both just sat there, frozen-up and terrified, and let Aster ramble the whole time to a silent audience of two. It would've been better if they'd fought.

They'd asked him why that same night, together on the couch after Ivy had gone home. David had put his laptop aside (which definitely counted as a secondary victory) and glanced sidelong at them, expression shuttered. "You didn't see them," he'd said slowly. "At their apartment. I don't regret anything I said, but..."

"But what?" they'd prompted, gently settling a hand over his since it'd been rescued from the laptop.

"They cried," he'd said, tone flat. "Sure, they fought me on some of it, but in the end, when I said they were part of the Pack, that we loved them, they just -- stared. You know the way they do it. And they cried." David had squeezed their hand in his, staring sightlessly past them. Remembering, probably. "The Ivy I know, they wouldn't have wanted anyone to see that. Especially not me."

Aster remembers trying to get him to talk about that more, but he'd gone frustratingly quiet, unwilling or unable to answer. He'd had that same look on his face as he had the first night, all distant reminiscing and pain. They're starting to suspect there might be a deeper knot to untangle there than they'd initially thought.

In any case, they'd known it wasn't going to keep working. So they'd taken on the task themself, meeting Ivy without David for those mandatory check-ups. He'd argued, half concern for the safety of them both and half wanting to go himself, but they'd talked him down.

("Ivy isn't going to relax with you there," they'd told him, point-blank, and watched his expression fall in a way they hadn't seen in a long time. "Not yet. I think you two need time.")

The first meeting had seemed like a success. Ivy had been less frozen, more snarky, and honestly cooperative even though it'd seemed difficult for them. Aster hadn't missed the way every other sentence had been about Davey, too -- sure, it may be their connecting factor, but their little suspicious theory says it might be another reason.

It'd been a success regardless, though, so they keep doing it. And every Wednesday, Ivy shows up. They usually stick to neutral ground -- the park, the library after work -- but Aster's been to Ivy's absolute shithole of an apartment now (and that's an honest-to-God tragedy -- they're saving telling David about it for a time they feel like they need to take revenge for something) and they really feel like they're getting somewhere.

Ivy relaxes around them now; they haven't seen that rigid posture from the meeting in a long time, and they smile more. They smile at all, actually. It's a tiny little thing, Ivy's smile, just a corner of their mouth twitching up, and Aster feels lucky whenever they get one.

For all their successful hangouts, though -- and they are hangouts, whatever Ivy says about them being mandatory, if they really didn't want to hang out they'd answer David's questions and leave -- Aster's still working on getting Ivy to come over to their house. For anyone else, it'd be the obvious answer. Ivy doesn't even have a TV, the poor thing (they have to watch movies on a laptop, and it's not even their laptop) and Aster has a whole home theater, even if it's a work-in-progress. They have lots of snacks! They have functioning central AC! But they know what the problem is.

Aster knows that Ivy has started, very slowly, to reach out to the other Pack members. Kieran had texted in their group chat the other day about it, his tone all mixed relief and irritation, that Milo had come home and vented about his and Ivy's conversation for nearly an hour, so that's -- hopefully on the way to being fixed. Maybe they'll talk to Milo about it soon. Asher and Ivy are very nearly friends now; Ash can't hold a grudge to save his life, and it's kind of hard not to be friends with a guy like him. Aster tries not to feel too jealous how much more work it's been taking them.

No, the problem is David, and Aster's little suspicion grows, nurtured somewhere deep in the back of their mind. And the solution isn't going to come from either of these two on their own.

"Whatever this is had better be worth it after you texted every day for two weeks," says Ivy, shooting them a trademark Ivy Glare as they reluctantly settle into the blanket pile. It's made of three different duvets, a beanbag, and two soft blankets, and Aster steps over to throw another one over their head the moment they settle. They curse, but it sounds like they have cotton in their mouth, so it comes out more like "Mmfffkcgk."

Aster snickers unashamedly and pats the blankety lump that is Ivy on the head as they pass. "I am going to subject you to the '95 Sense and Sensibility, and you're going to like it. No, it doesn't have any explosions."

"You are easily the loudest person I know," mumbles Ivy, tugging the blanket off over their head. The little hairs that usually lie against their forehead are sticking up in every direction from static. "Why is your taste in media so boring?"

"First off, you know Asher," replies Aster, settling on the couch behind them and fiddling with the remote. "Second off, I contain multitudes, and third off, you liked Emma. You thought it was funny."

"You can't prove that," Ivy answers immediately, but there's one of those little smiles on their face. A victory. Quieter, almost unsure, they add, "We're gonna do Attack the Block next time."

Aster smiles reflexively against the realization that somehow, even after how hard they've worked to worm their way into Ivy's life, assuming there's a next time makes the wolf nervous. "Sounds good," Aster says, instead of something that'll scare them, and starts the movie.

Ivy isn't a movie talker like Ash is (or Aster is, when they're not being considerate; Davey bitches about it all the time) but they react all the same, little contemptuous laughs and raised eyebrows in the dark. It's fun. Aster's loved this movie forever, could probably recite it in their sleep, so it's comfortable to just sit here in the half-dark with them. They hope it's comfortable for Ivy, too.

Just after an intense onscreen fight between the sisters, Ivy rolls out their shoulders with a series of sharp cracks and mutters, "Too hot."

"Emma Thompson?" asks Aster, with a little laugh. "Yeah, little Aster thought so too."

With a little snort, they shake their head and start to shift around in their blanket pile. Ivy always, always wears layers, overlarge jackets on shirts on undershirts, all black and torn up and edgy looking but barely any skin showing, and Aster's never heard them complain before, but it probably is hot under all that, isn't it?

They shrug off their jacket easily enough, but hesitate over the flannel under it, shooting Aster a sidelong glance. Even in the dim light of the living room, backlit by the brightness of the screen, Aster can tell it's an Ivy Look, the kind that pierces through your soul like a -- kebab, or something. Metaphors.

What won't freak them out, here? Would saying something be worse? Aster remembers what's probably under there, David talking about Ivy's scars. They can't react badly, not to this. It would be cruel. But Ivy hates talking about vulnerable things. So instead of doing anything useful, they freeze, uncertain, pinned under the weight of Ivy's stare, and try not to expect the worst.

They look a moment longer, eyes just pools of black in the low light, then shrug off their overshirt like it's nothing. It leaves them in just a t-shirt, and oh, Aster was preparing for the wrong thing entirely.

It's not easy to see in this light, but Ivy does have scars, obvious claw marks prominent across their entire right forearm and a jagged patch across the skin of their throat. Aster was expecting that. They were perhaps not expecting something much simpler, and maybe they should've been. They'd remarked on the difference that very first meeting, after all. How does tiny Ivy do construction?

With those fucking biceps, apparently.

Using the most restraint they've ever exercised in their life, Aster doesn't say "oh my God" out loud, but it's a close one, and they think their brain might actually be rebooting for a second.

Ivy’s posture sharpens for the first time in a while under Aster's probably indecent gaze. They are doing the exact wrong thing, the thing they'd said they wouldn’t, for possibly the second-worst reason. With monumental effort, they meet Ivy’s gaze and smile reassuringly, soft as they can manage, then make an inane comment about whatever's going on onscreen. Ivy’s back relaxes again, just a little, and Aster pointedly does not look at the line of their shoulders as they turn towards the screen again.

The moment those soul-piercing eyes return to the movie, Aster proceeds to have a little crisis on their own living room couch. It’s probably overdue.

It's a crush, isn't it. It would be one thing to have that kind of reaction in isolation; every single member of the Shaw Pack is unfairly hot. They will admit without shame to having once seen Asher in booty shorts and very nearly dying on the spot, which Hazel had given them shit about for months. But that's -- different. David knows it's different, too, had gotten all adorably grumbly about it. This isn't that. This is the logical consequences of those impulses they weren't examining earlier. This is Ivy's delicate features and pretty eyes and low voice and upsettingly attractive arms combined with the way those tiny rare smiles hook in Aster's heart and pull.

...Fuck. Oh, fuck.

Aster is a trans person in a certain demographic; they know about polyamory, and they'd already known they were capable of caring about more than one person, but this isn't a situation where that's a viable idea. This is Ivy, David's estranged whatever-they-were and known loose cannon so long as Quinn's still out there, someone Aster's just barely managed to coax into civilization with movies and constant texts. And David's... possessive. In a normal way, not a creepy way, and they've worked on it, but he wouldn't get it. He wouldn't. Is there even an 'it' to get?

There can't be. It’s just a crush. Ivy has someone, too, don't they? It's not that they've said anything, but sometimes they get a text on Wednesdays and look down at their phone and Aster sees a look on their face that they'd hide if they knew about it. And that someone is almost certainly Sam Collins, who Aster has yet to meet but knows is a good man with a good heart, and --

This absolutely cannot be a thing that happens. This needs to stay in.

Aster is... not good at that kind of thing.

They are saved (debatably) from their own spiraling freak-out by the arrival of a person with even worse unresolved Ivy Linden issues than theirs. Ivy hears it before they do, stiffening on their beanbag chair and sending Aster a look of complete and utter betrayal right as the front door clicks open in the other room.

They sit in tense silence, interrupted only by Marianne Dashwood, until David walks into the living room. "...Ivy," he says, very slowly. His tone goes pointed, and Aster has to squint to see the way his gaze goes flinty and accusing. "I didn't know you were here."

"Oops," says Aster.

________

Aster Pavia is a dirty traitor, and David is home earlier than they said he'd be.

A white lady in an old-fashioned gown is crying about something on screen, and David is standing in the living room entryway, and he is staring at Ivy's scars again. They want, suddenly, desperately, to be any other place. Feeling David's eyes on their skin burns. It's dark, but they're both shifters. He can see. He can see everything. It's not the first time; he'd stared back in their apartment too, eyes caught on their neck with something like horror when he'd forgotten to be angry. But somehow it's worse here, with Aster comfortable behind them and blankets all around them, when they weren't expecting it. No warning from Sam this time. It's just as bad as before.

"You didn't do this on accident," David says, tone accusatory.

"I don't know what you mean," says Aster. Ivy thinks they sound flatter than usual. The teasing tone is the same, that little hint of something mischievous, but it's not genuine. The wrongness of that itches at them. They wonder if seeing their arms really upset Aster after all. Their skin feels like it's crawling. "You've been working late on Wednesdays recently, since I haven't been here to yell at you about it. It was completely reasonable to assume you'd be home later."

"You knew that wasn't true," David answers, but he sounds resigned now, and he comes into the room fully, dropping his bag on an armchair. "You're watching Sense and Sensibility again?"

"I'm introducing them to the classics," Aster says primly. "Come sit?"

Ivy feels every muscle in their body stiffen at the thought. They hate it, because it's obvious, and because they're not afraid of him but it's going to look like it. Ivy has never been afraid of David Shaw, for better or for worse. They just don't want him to keep looking at them like that.

"I'm not sure I should, angel," he says, and his voice is quiet like it never is with Ivy.

This is terrible. This is the worst possible way to break their weird stalemate. He can distrust them all he wants and they'll deserve it, he can worry about them hanging out with Aster and they'll deserve it, but they're not worried by him just being around. That had never been the problem. Ivy snarls, a guttural noise from the base of their chest, and narrows their eyes at him. "It's your house."

"Okay, that's enough," says Aster, still in that flat tone but devoid of even faked mischief. "I took over the check-ins because I thought you two needed time to get used to the way things are now, and I think I was right, but if I left it up to you time would've meant forever. I don't know what happened with you two--"

"You don't?" blurts Ivy.

David sighs a huge, cavernous sigh. Maybe Ivy's hallucinating, but it sounds like it shakes a little. He comes over to the couch and sits to Aster's left, toeing his shoes off. "They know everything I told Sam."

"Sure," says Aster slowly. Their green eyes look pained behind those glasses. "I do know that stuff. About having trouble with being in the Pack, and Quinn, and Washington, and all that. But... with you two, there's something else, isn't there? It's not just that. You don't have this problem with the others. Not even Milo, and I saw how he looked at you at that first meeting. Something else happened."

Ivy had been working on the assumption Aster knew. They've certainly been acting like they knew, running buffer for David. They swallow suddenly, because on the face of it it's not something that should cause a problem now, but Aster is smart, and they understand emotions better than maybe anyone else Ivy's ever met, even Sam. They might... read into it.

Fuck, this is terrible.

David is looking at his mate like he didn't expect this either. It would be a consolation, but Ivy doesn't understand why he wouldn't have told them. It doesn't take him long, though. His eyes go somber and serious, and he looks sidelong at Ivy. "Are you alright with me telling them?"

Their worry spiral stops cold, and they blink at him. "Why?"

For the first time that night, David fixes them with a look they know on him: mild exasperation. "Because it's not my place to run around telling people your personal history, Ivy, especially not when you two are actually getting to know each other of your own accord."

"It's -- it's your personal history too," they say, honestly confused.

"Is anyone going to actually tell me, then, if we're all in agreement?" Aster interrupts.

Ivy swallows. They shift all the way around, facing the couch. They still feel oddly naked without their jacket on, but David has abandoned boring his eyes into their neck in favor of staring out into the darkened living room. He doesn't look like he's going to start. "David and I fought," they say. It's a little refreshing to just spit it out to someone who doesn't already know, honestly. "A little over two years back."

Aster's eyes shift immediately to Ivy's scarred forearm.

David catches the movement and outright growls, a low rumbling sound that shivers all the way up Ivy's spine even as it feels like their blood freezes. "No," he says, voice deadly quiet. "Never. They mean 'argued'."

"Shit," Ivy blurts, completely out of their own control. "No, he -- he wouldn't. Please don't think that. You don't think that. Right?"

"I don't," Aster says. Their face, twisted up in shock when David growled, relaxes, leaving them just looking sad. They reach out to David, setting a hand on his thigh. "I just -- looked, when you said fought. I didn't have a chance to think yet. Baby, you know I would never believe that."

"I... do know." David sets his big hand over Aster's, curling his fingers around theirs. "I'm sorry. That was an overreaction."

Ivy stares at their intertwined hands with a pang of something they thought they crushed a long time ago. They swallow again, nervous, a lump caught in their throat. "We argued," they say, quieter.

"It was in September," David continues. "Around the anniversary of my dad's death." He sounds so steady, not even a hint of hesitation in his voice. "I wasn't in a good headspace."

The David Ivy had known would never have been able to just say something like that, especially not to them. Hell, they're currently talking about the aftermath of the last time he even tried. This David looks right at Aster with clear eyes as he speaks. It looks good on him. They can try, in exchange. "I'd just cut ties with my mom," they admit. "It wasn't -- good."

They'd gone to see David that day completely adrift, finally free just to go back to a Pack they weren't sure even wanted them anymore, not after they'd abandoned it for her, a Pack that was missing the first person who'd made them feel welcome in it. Ivy isn't even sure what they'd been hoping for when they went to meet an Alpha they'd barely spoken to in that context that day.

Well. It had maybe been wishful thinking, nostalgia for a time when their relationship with David Shaw was just a stupid teenage crush. A stupid teenage crush that maybe could've been something, once, if they'd stayed. If she'd've let them stay.

"They remembered the date and tried to talk to me about him," David says, and now his phrasing is careful. "Offer condolences. Then talk about their place in the Pack. And I -- reacted poorly." He drops his gaze to meet Ivy's head-on, honest and straightforward. "I regret it. Sincerely."

"It's not like you were wrong," says Ivy, to cover for how the acknowledgement sits like a hot coal behind their eyes. "It only got more true after that, anyway."

"What?" snaps David. "What do you mean by that?"

It's that same tone he'd used in their apartment. He's not going to let them weasel out of this one.

"I didn't belong there," they say. They can't look at him. The blanket right under their hands is soft and orange and much less likely to poke at their issues. "And maybe I didn't mean to, but--" The excuses gutter and die in their throat. "That's not the point, and you didn't know that."

"You don't believe that," demands David. He's never loud when he's mad. His consonants just get sharper, enunciated like he's forcing them past his teeth. "Everything I - we have done for you since then says otherwise, even when you wouldn't fucking let us. I bailed your ass out of jail when you fought Quinn's friends, I texted you every week while you were in Washington. I came for you here. I told you, to your face, and now I'm saying it again. You are Pack. If you can't see it, you aren't looking hard enough."

"Everyone was so worried," says Aster, their soft tone so different after David's that Ivy almost flinches. "You're one of us."

That burning behind their eyes worsens. They can't look up. Someone is confessing their repressed British passion on the TV behind them and they cannot possibly speak.

"Ivy," says David, his words rounder like he's about to say something about love again, and they find the strength.

"I know," they manage. It shakes.

And the worst thing is that it's true. They do know they're Pack. It doesn't let go once it has you, even if you hold yourself at arm's length. David is a great Alpha, and Gabe was too, and both of them have always done their duty by Ivy, even in the worst possible circumstances. Even after their fight, David had gritted his teeth and come back to them, over and over, for the Pack.

But when David had said they didn't belong there, when Ivy had agreed, neither of them had meant that they weren't Pack. They'd meant what they'd said. Duty aside, Ivy didn't fit, and they especially didn't fit with him. They don't have anything to offer, just trouble.

Saying that out loud, though, especially here in David's house, with his mate close enough to touch, is impossible. It's pointless.

Gentle fingers tip their chin up with a touch so light they don’t even think to fight it. It's Aster, smiling soft and a little sad. "It's okay to take some time," they say, and Ivy feels nothing but guilt. "Everyone will still be here."

Beside them on the couch is David, still holding Aster's other hand. His eyes gleam in the reflected light of the screen. They are so close.

Suddenly, with an intensity that startles them, Ivy misses Sam. They could tell him this, if they managed to get it out; he'd understand. They could reach out to him, as long as they were careful. He would hold their hand like that. They want - they want -

Aster turns their head over to David. The mates exchange a speaking look, one Ivy can't read, and then Aster slips down from the couch to sit on the blanket pile next to Ivy's beanbag. "We've been ignoring Elinor," they say, so kindly Ivy wants to hide.

They can't, though, because David begrudgingly leaves the couch to sit on their other side, long legs spread across the floor and back straight. "Haven't you seen her happy cry enough times?"

"No," says Aster cheerily. "It's a great scene and I won't have you casting any aspersions. It was memorable enough to you, wasn't it?"

"It was memorable to me because the first time we watched it together you cried all the way through my shirt, you little snot," replies David, agreeably enough.

Ivy closes their eyes for a moment against all of this. Aster and David keep arguing, in that comfortable way that says this is how they pass the time, right over their head. Is it this easy? Are they allowed now, suddenly? There were so many things they didn't say. Is this good enough?

"Hey," says Aster, snapping them out of it. "You're missing the good parts."

"Oh, did we switch movies?" they ask, contrary on reflex, and David snorts, and maybe, for them and for now, it is.

#redacted asmr #ocposting #my fic tag #f: ocean eyes #usual tag commentary can be found on ao3 this time....#i have gotten my formatting and posting shit together finally! yeehaw!

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fourseasonsfigs · 1 year

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Bao, Look at the Camera (005)

This is the second time we've seen this outfit of Gong Jun's in fig form - it's so cuddly and cozy looking, it's hard for fig makers to resist! This is the first fig I'm posting about has this name...but definitely not the last!

In fact, I have to distinguish this fig from another "Bao, Look at the Camera" set that I'll post shortly, so I added the fig maker's numbering system to the title. I applaud the fig maker's excellent forward planning - a three-digit number system provides for lots of fig expansion room! This is the 5th fig out of 7 (so far) in this series. But really, they could have 999 figs in the series with all the numbering room they've left themselves!

The inspiration for this fig is two fold. The clothing is from Gong Jun's post of himself from his upcoming TV series Rising with the Wind.

The name of this fig set of course comes from the Word of Honor Concert BTS video that Youku released. Here's the little snippet where you can see Gong Jun turned around to face Zhehan and reading out his lines, not paying attention to the camera at all. Zhehan tells Gong Jun (translated): "Bao, look at the camera, bao".

Here we have a fig of Gong Jun, filming his bao!

This adorable little fig came with his removable video camera. You can see the little divots in the side of the camera - those impressions are actually for his little fingers to hold. I got a bit nervous when it came time to put the camera in his hand, like I am with any hand-held item - would it fit? or not?!?

But yep, his little fingers slide perfectly right around the camera for a snug but not overly tight squeeze. Thank goodness. It unnerves me terribly when props don't fit and I worry about snapping pieces off. No losing any fingers around here, please!

Look at the 1640 on the video camera - too cute! Speaking of cute, the detailing on the scarf is wonderful.

The details on the pattern of the coat is great here. Not easy to replicate in PVC form! This whole outfit feels very Fall to me.

He stands up just fine - no teetering here. He really is a great multi-purpose fig to use for all kinds of fig dioramas and sets.

The print is nice and clean on his coat - sharp straight lines with no overspray.

Sometimes fig arms can look strangely elongated when they're stretched out or holding things, because the bodies are so small in proportion. In order for the arms or legs to do anything, it requires a bit of fig engineering to get them to actively do things yet stay reasonably proportional. I think the fig maker and factory did a really excellent job on this fig.

Speaking of fig engineering, the precision of the camera placement means that the camera is well centered, right in front of his right eye.

The 1640 is on both sides!

I can see why he is more stable on his feet - I've noticed that when their feet are closer together like this, it helps keep them upright. Assuming the bottoms of the feet are flat, of course!

Figs with props always have more interesting top down views! I actually really like how the fig maker did his hair - I think it's spot on to the inspiration.

The big downside to this fig is that his absolutely adorable face is partially covered up by the camera. I mean sure, we have his cute closed eye and his delightful crinkled up smile, but we can't see that one big beautiful eye!

I feel like this fig also has a lot of potential for creative posing as well, definitely by people more creative than me!

The box for this fig was different than the usual. Plain but nice, and of course with Gong Jun's signature Jifeng blue color.

The inside has Gong Jun's signature and his birthday. I love it! In that amazing day in the future when I think of something clever to do with the boxes, I am sure this will be very useful. No box card in my box!

Material: PVC

Fig Count: 343

Scene Count: 24

Rating: Look at the camera, bao. Bao, look at the camera!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#gong jun #junzhe #shl cast #word of honor cast #woh cast #figthusiast

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aristobun · 2 years

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‘ —been a few months, Helene, ‘ he calls to her as she walks through the gates, her sunglasses held in her hand now as she walks toward him with an enormous smile that mirrors his own. ‘ I’d have believed you were never coming back, if you hadn’t called me last week. ‘

‘ I’ve been very busy these last few months, but it’s so lovely to be back here. I doubt Neverland will ever lose its charm, especially while you’re here, ‘ she compliments him, welcoming every bit of warmth provided by the hug he offers her as soon as they are close enough.

‘ What have you been doing all this time that kept you from calling? ‘ he keeps the conversation light and jovial by chuckling after these words, hiding the slight sadness he feels. He was quite a victim of misery after their last photo shoot, but he kept it mostly to himself.

‘I’ve—it’s a long story, ‘ she stumbled over her words a bit trying to find a way to explain it to him that wouldn’t have him rocking back and forth in his bedroom for days, as he had done last time she informed him of something less than pleasant having happened to her.

‘ Well, we have the time now you’re here, don’t we? ‘ he once again keeps the mood lifted with a smile and gives her hand a squeeze, before pulling on it to tug her back toward the ranch so she could get out of the scorching heat of a summer sun they didn’t quite have over the water.

‘ We do, Michael, ‘ she nods her head and chuckles at how happy he is that she’s back again, a joyous look about his whole expression and the way he carries himself as they head on inside. It takes him no more than a few minutes to reach into the refrigerator and grab the lemonade. ‘ I’ve actually been going through a spot of trouble back home, with my ex. ‘

‘ Joel? ‘ he chimes in, remembering the name almost instantly because the woman had spoken a fair bit about him last time she was here, but never in full detail and he wondered why. Perhaps it was now time for him to find out those finer details. ‘ What happened there? ‘ he asks.

‘ He used to hit me, all the time.. he was a very angry man and.. even though we split almost two years ago, he gets drunk a lot and when he’s got alcohol in his system, he’s very violent and he’d turn up out of nowhere. The only places I was safe was with my father or my best friend, ‘ she’s a second or two away from bursting into tears as she speaks and he notices right away.

‘ Hey, it’s okay.. you’re okay, Hel. You’re far, far away from all of that now, at least for a while. He didn’t deserve you and you definitely didn’t deserve any of that abuse.. you haven’t even been in a relationship for two years, he shouldn’t be coming anywhere near you. Did you get any kind of protection to keep him away? ‘ he asks, a frown now settled on his features.

Helene reaches forward across the table to grab the pitcher and pour herself a drink, also setting a glass down for Michael as he filled them with a scoop of ice cubes. The woman takes a gulp he could probably rival before placing her palms down flat on the tabletop and breathing deep.

‘ I did—the courts are involved now and I got a restraining order against him, but I worry he might break those rules and come find me out here or something, you know? I’m just so scared all the time and he’s made my life a living hell for so long, ‘ she takes another deep breath.

‘ If he comes anywhere near you again, he’ll be arrested, Helene. But if he comes out here after you, he might just get himself shot.. the cops don’t exactly have butter fingers with firearms, ‘ he informs her, cracking a smile because although he wouldn’t endorse violence of any kind, by the sound of her domestic issue, he believed the world could do without men like Joel.

‘ Thanks, Michael.. that helps a lot. I do feel a lot safer out here, with you, at the ranch.. all of this open space to roam free in the middle of nowhere, might be good for me for a while, if you don’t mind me calling it home over the summer..? ‘ her hopeful, doe eyes glance up at him.

Michael scoots his stool closer to hers and wraps an arm loosely around her midsection, tugging her nearer to him and pressing an assuring kiss to her temple before booping her nose so she’s aware that he wouldn’t mind in the slightest having her around. In fact he half wanted her to stay with him permanently, just as he did during their last visit, but he wouldn’t dare say so.

‘ You hungry? I feel like ordering, ‘ he remarks, hearing a grumble deep down in his stomach and laughing freely when her own stomach offers a grumble in response. ‘ Do you like fried chicken? the heat usually makes me crave it somehow. ‘

‘ I love KFC chicken, if that’s what you mean. I order from there whenever I wanna treat myself, or I’d be eating fried chicken every day of my life, ‘ she chuckles, nodding along so he knows it’s the perfect choice for a mid-afternoon bite to eat.

Given that she was here for another photo shoot, but realising it would not begin until tomorrow, it became apparent that Michael no doubt had a fun afternoon and evening planned for them to pass the time until then. Her trip all the way to California had been a long one and he wanted for her to relax as much as possible, enjoy herself and explore the ranch again like last time.

‘ What’s your go to order, Helene? ‘ he asks, grabbing the nearest writing implement, which just happened to be a bright green crayon, and a scrap of paper to write it down.

‘ Um.. do they have 3 piece boneless meals here? ‘ she asks, eyes lighting up as she prays they have a similar sort of menu as the UK restaurants. ‘ I usually order that, or popcorn chicken. ‘

‘ They do, so you want the 3 piece? how about 4 piece? ‘ he grins, trying to throw in another fried chicken strip to her meal so she can indulge a little bit after such a long plane journey.

‘ Okay a 4 piece, ‘ she laughs, shaking her head and giving him a gentle shove as he makes his way toward the phone in the hallway to place their order.

Helene knows full well that his own choice is for a mighty bucket meal, so she doesn’t question a thing when he doesn’t tell her his favourite. She takes another gulp of lemonade and then walks over to the kitchen window to take a look outside, the heat of the sun making its way through and warming her face as she stands there a while longer, taking in the sights of the ranch and being incredibly thankful she has somewhere safe, far away from the dangers of home, to recharge.

#drabble #save #helene marie starling #michael joseph jackson #oh wait i love them i just fell in love with this a little bit #s.o.s

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mikasas-biggestwhore · 4 months

Text

Attack on Titan characters and their butts: Part 2 ‼️‼️‼️

Once again like before this was just a random conversation with my friend and I just thought the world needed to know our thoughts! Side note: Merry Christmas guys <3

Characters: Levi, Erwin, Reiner, Annie and Bertholdt

This is probably the last part so y’all better enjoy 💜

Levi Ackerman

— Levi most definitely has a fatty from all that working out the scouts do. The thing is that his ass is very firm and there is no plush to it at all

— Like if you grabbed a handful it’s not leaking through you fingers. Your basically grabbing stiffened jello. (These descriptions keep getting weirder 😭)

— Sadly Levi does not have any jiggle. His booty is too firm for it to really have any movement at all.

— HOWEVER IF YOU SMACKED THAT SHIT??? GAHDAMN. THAT SHIT WOULD GIVE HELLA RECOIL

— See this all sounds good and dandy but there is a downside. While Levi has a very smackable ass his booty is shaped like a square :(

— So many men stay having square shaped booties and he’s a victim to this. Tsk tsk tsk

— He does know how to throw it back. He’s literally a Ackerman, of course he does. The only issue is you will never catch Levi shaking his ass sorry to disappoint you

— Ngl Levi is probably aware he has a fatty but it’s more of a inconvenience for him then anything. Like he’s got extra weight from the back of his body to worry about now.

— Side note: If you do try to slap his ass your gonna get your ass beat 🤕

Erwin Smith

— ERWIN TAKES NUMBER 1 FOR THE FATTEST BOOTY IN THE SERVEY CORPS ‼️

— Hear me out guys. Erwin’s butt is just hella fat, it’s plump, nice and rounded, AND DAMN DOES IT BOUNCE

— His ass gives a jiggle with every step he takes it’s actually insane. Like it’s practically a bouncy ball

— DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE RECOIL IF YOU SMACKED IT.

— There would be ripples like water and I mean ripples.

— Everyone is very aware that Erwin has a fatty except for Erwin himself. He’s not completely clueless but he just doesn’t think much about it yk

— “My butt is a lot bigger then everyone else. That’s odd” and then bro will move on with his day. Like it’s only a split thought he has had

— If you ever grabbed Erwin’s ass the fat would literally be leaking through your fingers. Good god

— I’m sorry y’all but even with all this ass Erwin definitely does not know how to shake it. I’m not even sure if he knows what throwing it back is-

— So this man is just walking around with a weapon basically. Erwin’s ass could take lives

— PUT YOUR HEARTS UP FOR DA ASS 🫡

Reiner Braun

— He’s not completely caked up like Erwin but he’s not flat. His ass is most definitely fat but in its own way

— Like Reiner has a very sculpted ass and it’s beautiful (making me tear up just thinking about it). It’s muscular and strong and big

— If you laid on it, it wouldn’t be pillow worthy but it would be a nice and a solid base for you to lay your head down on and have a good nap

— Like his ass is not soft at all but if you grabbed that shit. You would get the absolutely perfect hand full of his ass.

— It would absolutely amazing to squeeze BUT SLAPPING IT??? OH MY GOD.

— Because Reiner’s butt is so firm there isn’t any recoil but the sound it makes is absolutely delicious. Plus the feeling against your hand would have you die and rise to heaven

— Reiner has a very smackable ass. He’s the type of person where if he walks by your like “Damn I just wanna touch it”

— I would argue that Reiner has the best ass to smack out of the whole survey corps. LORD I WOULD LOVE TO SMACK HIS ASS

— Anyways Reiner doesn’t know how to throw it back but he makes up for it by putting himself in the most compromising positions and if there’s anyone near they go absolutely crazy.

— Reiner bent over to tie his shoe? WHAM! Reiner laying on his stomach some where? WHAM! Shit Reiner could just be standing minding his own business. WHAM!

— 10/10 would 100% recommend smacking Reiner’s ass

Annie Leonhart

— Annie does in fact have a fatty and it’s literally drop dead gorgeous. Like damn

— Her booty is nicely sculpted, it’s round, it’s hella fat, and it’s plush like a pillow. You could have yourself a nap on that thing

— Plus it jiggles. It jiggles.

— Shit be having recoil with every step she takes. She could kill a man with that bounce.

— The thing is her booty is small. Like it literally has all the qualities of a perfect booty it’s just not big enough to enjoy fully. So one person at a time (this is to the Annie fans)

—‼️‼️ITS ALL OKAY THOUGH BECAUSE WE APPRECIATE ALL BOOTY SIZES HERE ‼️‼️

— Truthfully Annie doesn’t know how to throw it back and she probably doesn’t fully know what it means

— However she won’t let anyone know that. She makes everyone believe she knows exactly what they are talking about

— Annie has such a remarkably smackable ass but sadly she’ll genuinely kill you and hide the body if anyone even laid a hand on her, especially her booty

—THIS IS A WARNING: Do not smack her ass if your wish to see another day and want the cops to be able to find your body.

— GUYS DONT TAKE MY WARNING LIGHTLY. IM OUT HERE TRYNA SAVE LIVES ✊🏽

Bertholdt Hoover

— Bertholdt is like on the very edge of fatty ground. Like brotha barely made it but he’s in there.

— He’s real close to nothing but bones but there is in fact fat there

— Like if you gave that thing a smack your hand is still gonna sting but the blow is slightly cushioned

— HOWEVER Bertholdt has a very odd shaped butt. It’s not rounded or inverted it’s just very square

— like I said before men already have usually square butts but his is on a whole nother level of being shaped like a square and it’s just boxy in general

— blud could put a cardboard box on his butt and it would just fit perfectly 💀

— Another thing is we all know Bertholdt is anxious most of the time and a habit he’s gained is clenching his buttcheeks from nerves-

— It’s not his fault. He just unconsciously does it and he’s done it so much it’s become an instinct at this point.

— He can’t help it guys :(

—Bertholdt most definitely does not even know what throwing it back is and doesn’t wanna find out

— He’s fine with living his life without ever trying to throw it back. If he did know he would probably be too shy to do it in front of people anyways

This is probably the last one of the butt posts I’m going to do because me and my friend didn’t really talk about any other characters

However if you wanna see what we believe a certain character from AOT’s butt looks like just put it in my requests

I’ll try my best to get to them all 🫡

Link to part 1

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parameddic · 9 months

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@hvndredstories / a drabble for you 💖 in which: nikolai said Wednesday and it's Thursday already and they haven't Talked and tk is trying hard not to self-sabotage (he's not succeeding very well)

“Dude.”

TK wasn’t paying attention. Nancy had been saying something - he looked up now, eyes pulled away from his phone (still no new messages), and something about him must have looked like a kicked puppy or something ‘cause Nancy looking annoyed one second and concerned the next. Which was perfect. He loved worrying his friends and family unnecessarily.

Nancy complained, “You’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“I’m not ignoring you. You should…” he took a guess at what the last conversation topic had been, gesturing with one hand as though Nancy was being ridiculous thinking he wasn’t paying attention, “go with the plum.”

“There’s a restaurant named ‘The Plum’?” Definitely the wrong guess, said Nancy’s tone of voice, low and flat and full of eyebrows.

TK frowned and blacked out the screen of his phone, brow crinkling and body language somewhat defensive (unnecessary; if she’d wanted to rag on him she’d be ragging much worse than this) as he complained, “I don’t know. Probably.” Probably there was. That sounded like something that could be the name of a restaurant, he bet if he Googled it he’d find one. But no, he had been suggesting a colour for the renovation Nancy was finishing, he was about four hours late to the wrong conversation. Look, “‘mm sorry. He – Nikolai said he’d text yesterday, after work, but he hasn’t. And he’s not answering.”

They’d kissed (and done more than kiss) and had a lot left unsaid, actually, there were things they just hadn’t had the time to talk about because they were being pulled in opposite directions by the places that they worked, but there were things they hadn’t said. Things TK hadn’t said, anyway. Maybe he was being Too Much about it. He was the one who had wanted to stay friends, maybe Nikolai thought they still were. Maybe they were. He hadn’t - TK would be fine with that, he thought, maybe, it was the sort of thing they could … talk about at least. He thought he wanted, um.

Well it was the sort of thing to talk about, anyway, he thought that's what they were gonna do. He thought they were just both just... finding their feet, or whatever.

“So?” digging for more information. Nancy pulled up a seat at the 126’s kitchen table, sitting down to brainstorm or maybe just to poke, and TK felt some tight squeeze of gratitude for his best friend. “He’s been late before, right?”

“Not really.” Well, yeah, he guessed, like he’d disappeared before, but the last time Nikolai had not been answering for a while he’d ended up makeshift-cuffed to a table in a burning building, or that time he’d not answered TK’s texts early on (this was a stretch; early on there was more than one missed message, just ‘cause they were not in each other’s orbit, the same way) and the next time TK saw him he’d had a black eye, and the... “He promised he’d text.” As much as Nikolai promised anything like that, anyway.

So what was TK saying? Nancy asked, shaking her head a little, “So…. do you think something happened? Something that could be keeping him from texting?” Like, was that what TK was feeling? ‘Cause worry wasn’t the emotion Nancy was picking up on.

TK lifted his eyes from his hands, thumb scratching the palm of his opposing hands, looking. Mildly guilty. “Maybe.”

“Okay… What do you mean by ‘maybe’, like he said something was up, or–?” Nancy looked at him.

She fell silent.

Several long beats.

… TK licked his lips and looked back down.

“... You’re boning?”

Said like that, like it was some. Cheap, disposable thing, said like it (he) was something to be discarded, like it (again, he) didn’t even matter. TK’s shoulders hunched a little further, got a little tighter. Maybe he didn’t even matter. Maybe it was all – ‘cause he’d been wrong before, right, he’d. Been completely and utterly wrong before. And Dad had as many reservations about Nikolai as he did about Alex, there were… he swallowed hard. Voice small: “No.” No, they w- “I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t think it was ‘boning’.” He’d thought it was more… that it had meant something, you know? That it was more serious maybe, not like the Most Serious Thing Ever but something. Other than just ‘boning’. It had felt like more. He hadn’t just been getting his rocks off.

Nancy blinked, rapidly backpedaling on her word choice, “Oh.” That’s not what she’d meant. “No, I didn’t mean–”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shouldn’t have even brought it up. It wasn’t Nancy’s business what happened between them anyway and probably he was overreacting or. Or something. Maybe Nikolai would text tonight and TK would find out he was just working a little later than he’d planned and then maybe they’d…

But he would have texted to tell him where he was, though, that was the sort of thing where – after – wasn’t it? Wasn’t he worth that? Worth a really brief, really short, hey-I'll-be-later-than-I-thought, some indication that he (TK) wasn't just completely unmoored and Nikolai was so far on a different page he didn't even think to tell him?

“Nikolai is a good guy, TK. If he’s not answering he’s gotta have a reason. Especially after something like that.”

“Yeah.” Yeah, that made sense. TK’s engagement in this conversation had gone from about a seven out of ten to maybe a two or a one. He didn’t like that phrase, ‘something like that’, like it was some huge thing that shifted everything, change implicit in the phrase, like he had categorically altered something about their relationship and now Nikolai was ghosting him and that was just what this change was like. Sucks to be him. Nothing stays the same forever.

He checked his phone again. The end of a conversation trail about TK going over there that night. A very brief exchange the following morning ‘cause TK had wanted to know if Nikolai had ever experienced the magic that was boba. And three separate increasingly-pathetic messages looking to follow up on ‘next Wednesday’ except it was Thursday (if it made it better at all, it was almost 4:00pm, Thursday) and Nikolai had said nothing and TK was probably overreacting.

Definitely overreacting.

“It’s only been a day,” Nancy said.

“I know.” He was being ridiculous, thanks for noticing.

“Can you call him?”

“It goes straight to voice mail.” What did it say that he’d tried it once already. Pathetic. Nikolai knew where to find them, he knew TK was still at work today, he knew what hours the 126 worked. He just - didn’t want to talk to him. You know? And that was fine.

It was fine.

Engagement levels negative four and decreasing.

“What goes to voice mail?” his Dad asked, ‘cause Dad had just come downstairs and TK hadn’t noticed, and now, great, his Dad was in on the ‘you’re boning’ conversation as well (had not heard that part, but TK did not want him anywhere near it), and TK rolled his eyes as he pulled away from the 126’s table:

“Nothing, Dad.” Just leave him alone. He didn’t want to be talking about this anyway.

Owen either did not hear TK’s tone of voice or he elected outright to ignore it. “‘Cause a lot of the time in the Firehouse, it’s the signal. You gotta go high to get a better– no?” Nancy was shaking her head at him, making small but indiscrete ‘cut it out’ gestures across her neck, and Owen complained, “It’s a good tip.”

“TK,” Nancy said.

“I gotta go, Nance.” God, he needed an excuse as a follow-up, wait, “I gotta - cap wants me to change the bulbs.” For the ambulance. It was a regular upkeep thing. Nobody ever wanted to change the lights. It was small and easy but annoyingly finnicky and it happened to be the least-contested role on the maintenance checklist ‘cause nobody wanted it at all.

Nancy especially did not enjoy it, so she faltered ‘cause she definitely was not gonna refuse TK’s offer to be the one who did it this month, but, “Okay, but you know you can talk to me, OK? Anytime.” About anything. Even boning.

Another stab of appreciation in Nancy’s direction, in his chest. Painful this time. Achy. “Yeah.” Yeah. “Thanks, Nancy.” No way in hell. But he appreciated the thought. Y’know?

TK went to find the bulbs he needed, digging around in the storeroom, lost in the thought of ‘something like that’. Where were his airpods? He wanted his airpods. Music, maybe.

Nikolai was probably just busy. TK’s work sometimes spiralled longer than he wanted it to, too. He was overreacting.

… He checked his phone again. Still nothing.

#ic #hvndredstories #hums #v; nikolai

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crazedlunatic · 1 year

Text

I’ve Got You

“Long time, no see.”

Adrian, who was sitting in a booth at Gaslight and waiting for Matt to get there, stared down at his phone as someone slid into the booth next to him.

“So, a cop? Does that make you feel safer at night?”

Adrian knew it was him.

He could always tell—he still knew Chad’s voice as if they spoke hourly every day.

“You aren’t even going to look at me? You sure have let yourself go.”

Adrian finally glanced up, swallowing.

“So, I’m guessing he’s late a lot? Off being Captain America or something?” Chad asked, tilting his head in what would have been an adorable way if he wasn’t so fucking sick. “Then again the last three times he has been.”

Adrian slid out of the booth and stood quickly.

“Not so fast.” Chad blocked him from leaving, grabbing his wrist. “Just remember you’re mine, Adrian. Fuck around with all the barely legal boys you want but you’ll always be mine.”

“You need to leave me alone. Quit coming to my school, quit finding where I live, and quit parking outside my job.” Adrian’s voice sounded more composed than he felt.

Chad needed to leave so Adrian could go to the bathroom, throw up, leave before Matt got there, and then send a text about not being able to make it.

“You sound so serious but you’re shaking.” Chad said. He then added, in a sweet tone, “Are you cold? You can have my sweater.”

Adrian moved to turn around before he heard his name.

“There you are!” Matt came over. “Hey, sorry. Mark’s on a rampage again.”

Adrian made eye contact with Matt, opening his mouth.

“Hi. I’m Adrian’s friend Chad. We’ve known each other for a long time.”

Matt made eye contact with Adrian again and then looked at the guy. “We’ve actually got somewhere to be so you’ll have to harass him some other time.”

“How old are you? Fifteen?” Chad asked.

“Old enough that I’ve taken people three times your size down in a second flat.” Matt said coolly, hand going to Adrian’s lower back. “Get out of here or I’ll make you.”

“Have I done something wrong, officer?” Chad was grinning.

Matt didn’t say anything—but only because he could feel Adrian shaking. The other guy probably couldn’t see it, but Matt felt it.

“Next time, love.” Chad sidestepped Matt and left the restaurant.

“I, uhm… I’m not very hungry, Matt.” Adrian said, voice uncharacteristically soft… and sounding nothing like himself.

“Want to talk about that?” Matt asked gently, looking into his eyes.

“Can we, uhm… go somewhere else?”

“Anywhere you want to go.” Matt said, glancing out the window and seeing Chad staring at them through it. “Just as long as it’s away from that creep.”

Adrian, who didn’t usually initiate physical contact in public, took Matt’s hand and squeezed it.

Matt squeezed back, able to feel Adrian’s sweaty palms. “I’ve got you.”

Adrian smiled, squeezing again and following his out of the building.

Luckily, Chad was gone.

‘Cop’ Matt, however, was definitely not.

#adrian/matt

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l4verq · 3 years

Text

boats🎣 | b.b

bucky barnes x reader

in which you’re supposed to be helping repair sam’s old boat but your boyfriend keeps distracting you :(

tags : 18+ minors pls DNI , bucky’s a horn dog and so is reader, sam doesn’t know bucky has his hand right on reader’s 🐱 and reader is TRYING to keep it that way lol, no plot, just a little porn 😼

fic : one shot

stern - the back part of a ship |

gangway - a flat board or metal structure that can be put in place between a ship and land to let people get off or on the ship |

cabin - a private room on a ship for a passenger or one of the people working on the ship |

masterlist

you know he’s not doing it intentionally.

the slight grunts as his vibranium arm effortlessly rips off rusty, rotting pieces of wood hastily hammered over cracks and gaps.

you’re scratching off stringy residue of duct tape slapped on holes in the stern, standing a few feet away from him, taking in the view.

not the one overlooking the wide stretch of blue water.

but the one where your boyfriend’s wiping the sheen of sweat off his face with his shirt and it’s not just any shirt, it’s the light grey one that’s one size too small but fits so right on his sculpted body.

he lets it drop, panting as his eyes trail over to you and smirks.

ok, so maybe he does know what he’s doing.

you go back to vigorously scraping off the grimy, faded string- how does duct tape turn to these stubborn, ugly strings that just refuses to come off?

and to top it all off, sam’s parents - god rest their souls - used the tapes in places you’re having to bend over, stretch your arms down as much as you can and hopefully are actually scraping the residue off.

“i got it.”

you jump a little, startled by his voice.

that sweet, sweet voice that brings you to your knees [literally] everytime.

he’s right behind you - you’ll never get used to his super soldier thing where he can sneak up on literally anyone - his crotch pressed right onto your ass as he bends down as well, arm sneaking down yours.

oh, he definitely knows what he’s doing.

his hand grabs the handle of the metal scraper in your hand, taking it from you.

the boat sways a little, just a little.

shouldn’t make him thrust right on your denim shorts clad ass, making miss kitty down there all flustered.

bucky’s a lot of things and being an insatiably annoying tease is just one of them.

he gets back up, vibranium around your waist pulling you up too, “sarah said she needs help with the pipes.”

you could use some help with piping too, you think.

“oh, okay.” you say breezily before getting out of his way.

getting out of his way as in sliding your ass across his crotch, a small groan leaving his mouth right into your ear.

he’s played this game with you way too many times and always won.

it was time for a new victor.

and so the rest of the day is just relentless teasing, lingering touches, strokes and a lot of “oh silly me, i dropped something. let me just pick it up.” and slowly raising your ass up his legs, feeling his jeans constrict just as you lift it away.

at one point, he’d pressed you against the wall, pinned your wrists above your head, i know what you’re doing.

cue innocent batting of your eyes, with a what?

you were the clear winner, until now.

until now when you’re in the cockpit, on your tippy toes, straining to hold up the glass pane.

“i don’t know how to break it to you that you’re not tall.” sam yells from the other side of the glass, voice all muffled.

you roll your eyes, practically unsticking your sweaty front from the majestic helm that’s been poking your belly for five minutes now. to say your tank top is just drenched in sweat is not an exaggeration.

totally not the hot girl summer aesthetic you were hoping for this year.

“need a hand?” bucky pokes his head in from the door, eyebrow quirked.

how does he get to look that good all sweaty and grubby?

“yeah, sam’s screaming at me cause i’m short.” you pull your lip, turning to face him.

he chuckles, lowering his head at the doorway and enters the cabin which suddenly looks even smaller because of his towering presence.

“i’ll lift you up, c’mon.” he extends his arms, the slightest smirk tugging at his lips, a playful glint in his eyes.

you turn around warily as he hops around the heap of boxes, screws, wrenches, crocks cluttered around the floor and he’s right behind you, hands tinkering around your waist.

but he slides his right palm right between your legs, other hand on your.... fuck, does it matter?

the only thing on your mind right now is him hiking you up, palm basically cupping your denim clad pussy.

you shakily hold up the glass while sam begins applying window sealant from the other side, completely oblivious to your boyfriend groping you.

his cool, metal arm rests under your thigh, a stark contrast to the burning ache between your legs.

“such a tight spot here.” he comments, palm squeezing slightly and it takes everything in you to stifle a moan.

he was crammed up against the helm, legs bumping into empty jars and canisters. you can only hope sam thought he meant that.

and it’s just torture, the next three minutes perched under his palm, desperate for some friction, to just rub it out all the while maintaining a poker face right at sam in front of you.

not helping that he’s having a casual conversation with sam, knowing full well that you’re absolutely just falling apart under his touch right now.

and the waves, the stupid waves that rock the boat so now bucky has to ‘adjust’ you, bouncing you up on his palm, squeezing your thigh with his other hand.

“sam!” a distant voice calls out.

you silently thank the lord for answering to your prayer.

“i’m working!” sam yells back, eyebrows furrowed, applying a line of translucent paste on the lower frame.

“SAM!”

sam huffs, screwing the cap on the tube of sealant back on, “i’ll be back. you can let go now.”

your sore arms cry out in pain as you retract them back, shaky legs because of a certain blue eyed 106 year old whose hand is shoved between them.

“i got you.”

bucky easily bounces you around, gripping your waist, your legs wrapping around his torso.

“you good?”

his right hand rests on your lower back to support you, eyes raking over your arms.

bucky’s a lot of things and being a caring, doting absolute annoyance of a boyfriend might just be the best one.

you just wait for the familiar creak and slight tilt of the boat confirming sam’s waddled across the gangway before crashing your lips into bucky’s, nearly tipping him over.

it’s almost animalistic, his lips part, letting your tongue slip in and delve in his taste that’s just so.. bucky.

it’s sweet, minty, tangy and you’d figure out the rest if only you both didn’t have to pull away, gasping for air.

“you’re so annoying.” you breathe out, panting right into his mouth.

jars tip over like dominoes as he backs you to the wall, shielded from the many windows but if someone so much as just craned their neck a little to look in, they’d have a front row seat to your snog fest.

“you know what these shorts do to me.”

his vibranium arm snakes around your waist, locking in, making that mechanical sound that’s just so sexy to you for some reason.

the evening sun is a little more merciful than the blistering beams of the morning but crammed up in that tiny area, sweaty bodies clinging to each other, you might just have a heatstroke.

if you didn’t pass out from the throbbing down there first.

“i need you to keep that pretty mouth shut, can you do that for me?” he cooes, forehead resting on yours, fingers reaching down to rub back and forth between your shorts.

you nod feverishly, unable to form words, hands grasping at the wall behind, his biceps, his back, everywhere, the long awaited friction sending sparks up your body.

“can’t let nobody hear us, now can we?” his lips trail to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, a dull pain overpowered by pleasure coursing through out.

your hand tugs at his hair, soliciting a low moan from him.

“teasing me with your ass all out in these shorts,” he drawls, “such a bad girl.”

you’re hyperaware of the wide open cabin door and how someone could just walk right in, those two kids are always running around ever- fuck, the kids.

god, you’d never be able to face sam’s family ever again.

but it’s somehow the least of your worries when he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them with soft groans.

and he shoves them in the front of your shorts, “so tight,” he growls, hand barely fitting in.

you gasp as his finger finally make contact, run up and down your sopping slits.

“hmm, always so wet for me.” he groans, sloppy kisses down your neck, along your collarbone.

you whimper as he teases two fingers at the entrance, making you jolt when his thumb starts circling your swollen nub, the bundle of nerves coming undone.

his name’s a strangled, wanton noise deep from your chest but he gets the message.

that you need him to put a baby in you... y’know something along the lines of that.

but like aforementioned, he’s a tease.

so his fingers slowly push in, only the tips greeted by your walls.

“just as tight as i remember.”

back arching when he finally slips them all the way in, palm slightly tapping against your clit and you’re certain you see stars.

and he does the thing where his fingers hook, curl, twist, your legs squirming, his name falling out of your mouth like a chant.

your legs buckle, his fingers moving at an ungodly pace and the only thing holding you up right now is his iron grip round your waist as you shakily find your footing on the floor.

“fuck, you’re clenching so hard, baby.” he rasps, your head lulling into his neck, legs jerking against your own control.

you’re almost there. the familiar tightening of the twisted spring in your lower abdomen, toes curling against the rough surface of your slippers, almost..

creak.

a/n : 🤔🤨😳💤🏃🏻‍♀️💨 dk how i feel about this one bestie💭

#bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #tfatws #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #sam wilson #mcu #marvel #bucky fic #bucky imagine #the winter soldier

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

this deleted itself but the req was for an ill reader who likes to try and carry on even if they feeling shit and tom noticing I think?!?

Summary: you take start to feel a bit shit at toms family barbecue and get caught out and taken care of

///////////

It should've be lovely, an evening in the rare but much appreciated British summer sun in Dom and Nikki’s garden. Everyone was there; all the Holland boys; both sets of Tom’s grandparents; Haz and his long time girlfriend Lucie. It was a reunion of sorts, although no one had been away working, you’d somehow all timed your individual holidays simultaneously. You and Tom to Australia; Sam and Harry to south-east Asia; Paddy, Dom and Nikki to Sweden. Having all returned in the space of a week, everyone was catching up, involving great British barbecues (which are always a little disappointing) and a fair amount of booze.

You were sat on the garden furniture with Tessa (Tom’s grandma), Nikki and Lucie. Very much a ‘girl power’ meeting if ever there was - which in a family full of boys was often needed just to keep the peace. Everything about the evening was lovely… except perhaps your body. God knows why, because you rarely got ill - having not had a day off work in two years. As much as you’d been trying to push away the slow creeping feeling for a couple of hours - it was now getting impossible to ignore. The slightly unsettled feeling in your stomach had you fidgeting in the wooden chair constantly, trying to ease it by shifting positions... to no avail.

“Y/n… Y/n?” Looking up to see three pairs of beady eyes trained on you, you faked a smile, looking over to Nikki who had been calling your name. “Tess was asking how long the flight back was?” “Oh sorry, was miles away!” You tried to cover, shifting once again, this time pressing a hand to your lower abdomen in the hope that’d distract you as you turned slightly to make eye contact with Tessa. “And I think 11 hours ish.” The girls all pulled a grimacing face in sympathy, to which you chuckled at. “No no honestly cos Tom spoiled me completely so we were in the fancy seats, I honestly was spark out of it the whole time!”

It was enough of a response for the girls to all nod, carrying on the conversation as you, now not the main focus, rubbed your pulsing temple with your other hand - in the hope to relieve some of the building pressure. Clearly, though, you weren’t a subtle as you thought - since Lucie got your attention by bumping your shoulder and leaning in closely. “Come to the loo with me?” It sounded like a question, though it very much wasn’t - the stern look in her eye enough to scare you into agreeing. With a word to Nikki and Tess, you both stood up and made your way to the inside, not stopping until you were locked into the thankfully spacious downstairs loo - the brunette eyeing you intently. “You look like shit.” “Thanks Luc, that’s exactly what I needed to hear right now.” You sighed, sitting on top of the closed lidded loo heavily. “What’s up?” Her tone was harsh and to the point, but secretly there was a look of worry in her eyes. She was one of your best mates but sometimes could also scare you shitless. “I think I’m just tired, it’s my stomach and my head, I’ll be fine.”

Lucie didn't really seem to believe you, but respected your stubbornness and after providing you with two paracetamol capsules from her bag, she let you off - both going back into the garden, where, by now Sam was plating up the slightly charred burgers.

Naturally, you’d sat next to Tom, who had pulled your chairs right next to each other - so that his leg was pressed up against yours, his arm pulled around your shoulder. That was just Tom, away from the prying eyes of the public and media, he really was an affectionate person. He just liked to feel you there. God knows how long you all sat in those same positions, but it was long enough for the sun to set. In fact, you most definitely weren’t the person to ask, because at some point, unbeknownst to you, you’d zoned out. Nobody had noticed, under the cover of the low sunset light, until Tom felt your head briefly fall against his shoulder before it shot up once again - your eyes blinking heavily.

He frowned at the sight, seeing you huddle your arms across your body, which was bizarre due to the unbelievable hot weather in London. Yes, it might have shifted into nighttime, but it was still at least 24 degrees. So as his Dad had the entire table captivated recounting some long and complex tale of his touring days, Tom took the opportunity to squeeze your shoulder - grabbing your attention.

“You alright love?” In response you just hummed, eyes shifting up to him after a little delay - similar to how your reflexes became stunted with alcohol, though Tom suddenly realised you’d barely had more than half the glass of beer he’d poured you when you’d both arrived. “ I’said are you okay?” “Yeh… yeh I’m fine.” You forced a small tight lipped smile, whilst Tom took his arm that was round his shoulder to rest on the crown of your head before slowly stroking down your hair. “Sure? You seem a little out of it?” He pushed, still in a whisper so as not to draw attention to the two of you. “Maybe just tired.” Flat out lying, you shifted back into the backrest of the chair a little more making his hand accidentally land on your forehead rather than your hairline. He didn't move it though, instead sitting and swivelling in his chair, pressing the other side of his hand to the skin as well. “You’re burning up Y/n/n” he spoke a little louder - eyes full of concern as he looked you up and down. “No I’m a bit cold if anythin-“

That was when Nikki, from across the other side of the table got involved. She’d obviously been silently observing the two of you, now feeling the need to send you both home. “Oh, we forgot dessert! Tom, Y/n would you mind helping me bring it out?” Thank god for Nikki, for finding a cover story and stopping everyone's eyes on you. Because for someone dating, three years deep, an A-lister - you hated any sort of attention, even from those closest to you. Especially sympathy, you had absolutely no time at all for that.

Leading you into the kitchen with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, Tom waited till the door was shut before turning to you.- claiming you were boiling and looked not so great. “I’m just a bit cold if I can borrow one of sam’s jumpers then-“ “Love, please go home.” Nikki interrupted as she wormed past Tom to put her own hand on your forehead too. “You’ve got the chills and you’ve not been normal all day. Am I right or am I right?” She was the worst to argue against. That was completely due to the fact she was always right. With a defeated nod from you, she clicked her tongue, pushing you to sit down on one of the barstools. “Tom go get a jumper from Sam’s room and order a taxi, I would drive but we’ve all been drinking.” “I can just go back by myself T, you don’t get to see your grandparents a lot and -“ “I love you but please please shut up.” Having rounded the back of your chair he pressed his lips to your temples as confirmation before scurrying off to the back of the house.

“You know he doesn’t mind at all? My son never was at my beckon call like he is with you.” There was a little smile teasing the corner of her lips as Nikki placed a glass of water in front of you, as though instructing you to take small sips. “I just feel bad, he’s always telling me how he regrets not spending more time with all of you and… well I’ve had him to myself for the fortnight in South Africa.” “Your just as much a part of the family as me or his grandparents are okay? Now when you get home..”

Nikki switched the tone to then list off all manners of ways that you needed to look after yourself once back, which she then repeated as soon as Tom returned with a black hoodie that you gratefully pulled over your head.

//////////////

By the time you got home, you were feeling so incredibly shit you weren’t even considering keeping up your brave face. Tom had wordlessly led you up the path to your shared home, unlocking the door and telling you to go straight to bed.

Perhaps he was so concerned because in the whole three years together he’d never ever seen you ill. Yes, the odd headache or whatever, as well as the occasional morning after the night before when you’d opted for a ‘tactical chunder’ to try and protect your modesty. But other than that, you were always the one being sympathetic to him. When he was tired, both emotionally and mentally from work; when he hurt his knee and was on forced bed rest for a couple of days ( which turns out to be the hardest time for you too, dealing with the whiny and fidgety boy man).

He came up a couple of minutes later, by which point you’d already pulled joggers on and wrapped yourself as tightly in the duvet as physically possible. If felt so bloody cold your teeth were actually chattering as you curled up into the smallest ball possible. In his hands was a small tray, carrying a steaming mug; a collection of all the different pill packets you kept in the medicine cabinet (as Tom himself had no idea which one was right so decided to use them all); a hot water bottle and what looked like a damp towel, all scrunched up.

No matter how shitty you felt you had a smile at how sweet and doting Tom was being... and as much as you hated the sympathy - if it was always given by a ripped and beautiful brunette with the sharpest jawline you’d ever seen… well just maybe you could get used to it. After snatching the hotwater bottle up immediately, then letting Tom fuss over you in every which way he wanted you gave in, losing the ability to entertain his puppy energy.

“Can we just go to sleep please?” You whined, which Tom nodded to - quickly getting changed and ready before joining you in bed.

As soon as he felt the way the bed was practically vibrating with the chills you were suffering from, he pulled you up into his chest. Now you had both your own personal heater and a hot water bottle to try and warm you up. “You wake me up if you need anything kay?”

Pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, which was nestled between his shoulder and neck. “Promise me ‘kay?” Him needing the reinforcement caused you to arch back up, looking deep into his brown eyes with the warm glow of his bedside table lamp. “You’re too good to me Tommy.” He tutted at that, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

“Oh no” He whispered exclaimed, making you immediately ask him what in response. “I think this fever is making you go all delusional love.” You quirked your head, causing him to continue with a cheeky grin. “Well for one, nothing would be too good for you darling and two…. When the hell have you ever called me ‘Tommy’” With him chuckling at his own joke, you rolled your eyes at his cheekiness, firmly planting your head back on his shoulder as if to shut him up. “Alright, I’ll let you off just this once cos your all feverish… get some sleep love.” “Thankyou Tommy.” “Shh love.”

And that’s how you fell asleep, finally finding a bit of warmth in Tom’s arms.

Safe to say he very much didn’t sleep so well. Yes, you felt cold - but Tom was bloody boiling. Still he didn't move because if you were comfortable, his discomfort didn’t matter. It was also a physical impossibility for him to relax until he felt (yes, technically not the most scientific way) your fever coming down. Every five minutes or so he’d gently press the back of his hand to your forehead. This boy was so whipped for you... but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~feedback is really really appreciated~~~~

taglist for tom: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8

#tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagines #tomholland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates - One Shot

a/n: I’ve had this idea for a long time, and I’m glad it’s finally come together. I love friends to lovers fics, they make my stomach twist in the best possible way, so I hope you all enjoy these two! Feedback and reblogs are always helpful. (not proofread)

Warnings: two idiots refusing to just get together until they do, SMUT, mentions of Only Fans (which I truthfully know nothing about, but I wanted to make things saucy)

Words: 11.3K

“We just need to be quiet in case my roommate’s home.” You say to your date, Jeremy, as you key into your flat. He nods with a grin as you enter.

“Hey, lovie, how was the-“ Harry smirks when he sees you come in with your date. “I see it went well, never mind.”

You roll your eyes at him. He was sitting on the couch in some sweat pants, and that was it, watching some romantic comedy.

“Harry, this is Jeremy, Jeremy this is my roommate Harry.”

“I’m her best friend too, but I can see she clearly hasn’t brought me up all night. M’a little offended, pet.”

“Okay, well, I’ll try to be more courteous.” You shake your head at him, and tug Jeremy along to your bedroom. “Sorry about him. He usually goes out on Friday nights, but lately he’s been staying in more.”

“You…you live with that guy?”

“Sure.” You shrug and then wrap your arms around his neck. “We’ve been friends for years, and we’re in the same grad program, so it just made sense to split a flat.”

“Listen…uh, I was excited that you invited me up, but I can’t fuck you with that guy sitting out there.”

“What?” You frown and step back. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll just think you’re thinking of him the whole time. He’s…like…perfect! I can’t compete with that.”

“Jeremy, you’re being silly, just clear your head, we can-“

“Sorry, Y/N.”

Jeremy opens your door and leaves you standing in your room. You were in shock. Jeremy walks quickly back out into the main area, and sees Harry still sitting and watching his movie.

“Oi, that was quick, mate. Hope you left my girl satisfied.” Harry grins at a disgruntled Jeremy, and he leaves.

“You know it’s comments like that…” You sniffle as you stand there in your pretty dress and heels. “That make guys just up and leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He took one look at you sitting there like that and ran off!”

“So, I can’t even sit in the comfort of my own living room without some douche feeling emasculated? Are you sure you want someone like that fucking you, Y/N?”

“I just wanted to hook up! Christ, now I have to go take care of it myself.” You groan.

“Well, when you’re done, come join me. We can watch My Best Friend’s Wedding.” He leans forward and smiles. “You look really nice tonight, I’m sorry he was an idiot.”

“Thanks.” You wipe your finger under your nose. “Would you make some popcorn or something?”

“On it.”

Alright, some explanation is probably needed here. See, you and Harry met your sophomore year of uni, no, not drunk at some party, in class, actually. You both were education majors, so you ended up having a lot of classes together once you really dove into your major courses. You got paired up on a project together, and there was no separation between the two of you after that.

Normally, Harry wouldn’t have been the type of guy you’d be friends with. To be honest, he dressed like a douchebag when you first met him. You wondered why he’d want to be a teacher. He had floppy curls, wore a snapback with every outfit, and you didn’t think he owned a pair of jeans that didn’t have any rips in them. Although, you did enjoy his Chelsea boots, his sweaters, and his nail polish and rings.

You were innocent, and sort of preppy while he was loud mouthed and scruffy. Your friend groups never merged, but your best friend knew about your friendship with Harry. She’d constantly poke fun and say you had a crush on him. You didn’t. Harry was hot as fuck, anyone with eyes could see that, but you weren’t into him in that way. That was one of the reasons he liked hanging out with you so much. Most girls that tried to be his friend were just trying to fuck, and that could be fun, but sometimes he genuinely wanted to meet up for coffee and have a conversation without it leading to screwing on an extra-long twin bed.

Harry’s friends knew you well. As the years went on, you’d often be the one he’d bring back to his place drunk. You started off by sleeping on the floor, and then one night you realized you both adults and could sleep in the same bed. His friends would give him an equally tough time about you. Sometimes you’d come over and wait in his room for him while he was out with another girl. To some that may have been weird, but nothing was better than drunk platonic cuddles.

There was one night, your senior year, you had woken up with him spooning you. In all the nights spent together, you two never fell asleep or woke up like that. You didn’t shift when you felt his morning wood poking you. His arm was draped loosely over you. You almost wanted to see if he’d make a move, so you pretended to stay asleep a little longer. His hand had slid to your hip and squeezed it, but that was the extent of the interaction. He rolled onto his back, and you did the same. You looked up at him and started giggling.

“It’s not funny.” He groaned, putting his forearm over his eyes.

“Didn’t know I did it for you, Har.” You poked the dimple forming on his face as he smiled.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, happens to every guy in the morning.” He peered down at you and you rolled your eyes.

You had never spoken about it afterwards. You didn’t want to embarrass him. When you both talked about grad school, and got into the same university, he asked you to be his flat-mate.

“You don’t wanna live with Niall and Louis anymore?”

“They’re getting real jobs, they won’t wanna listen to me complain about school. I’ve found a great two bedroom place. I think it could be fun for us. Dontcha wanna live with me, baby?” He pouted at you and you nudged his shoulder and laughed.

“Christ, I hate it when you start getting all beggy. Alright, we can live together.”

He took you in his arms and hugged you. You were both extremely excited. Sometimes it seemed like you and Harry knew everything about each other, but that was not the case. After you moved in and got settled, it was time you revealed something to him. You called him into your bedroom to talk.

“Is everything okay? You’re not having doubts, are you?”

“No! Not at all, I’m glad we’re doing this. I feel safe with you here, and I’m glad we still have classes together. I…I just need to tell you something. Um, I don’t know what you do to...like, when you’re alone, I don’t know what you use, but I know things can pop up geographically, so I just wanted to warn you.” You bit your bottom lip, and turned your laptop around to show him your Only Fans page. His eyes widened, and then he shook his head.

“This is a joke, right? You made a fake website.”

“It’s not fake…” You muttered. “I don’t do lives, I don’t get naked, and I don’t show my face.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I was a dance minor, as you may recall.” He nodded yes at you. “So I make little strip tease videos and blur my face. Sometimes I take lingerie photos too. It’s a wonder what people will pay for.”

“How’d you get into this?” There was no judgement in his voice, he was genuinely curious.

“It started as a joke between Jenna and I, but then we started making money, and it’s enough that I can pay all my bills and live comfortably. I’ve already paid off one of my student loans thanks to this. I don’t even know if you use Only Fans, but I knew you’d probably recognize me or something if you stumbled across it so…I just wanted to warn you.”

“You know…the coffee shop I work at is hiring if you don’t feel like doing this kind of stuff.” He smirked.

“I actually don’t mind it. I essentially work for myself.”

“So you don’t sit in front of your camera and get yourself off with little bunny ears on?”

“No.” You laughed. “Just videos of me dancing in some intricate lighting, and saucy photos.”

“Can I see?”

“What?!”

“Not one of the videos, show me some pictures.”

“Harry…”

“Come on. I’ve seen you dressed to the nines before, but I’m having trouble believing you would take any provocative photos.”

“Fine.” You clicked through the various photos, and find a mostly decent one. “Here, you can look at this one.”

His eyes widen again as he scans it over. You could only see your face from the lips down. You had a lollypop pressed to them, and some of the juice from it was dripping down your chin. You were laying on your bed in a pink lace bodysuit, and if he squinted he could probably see your nipples, but he chose against it. Your legs were up against the headboard, crossed at the ankle.

“Well?” You asked.

“It’s, uh, it’s very tasteful.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for telling me…I…I mean I definitely look at porn sometimes, so…uh…definitely wouldn’t have wanted to accidentally wanked it to you.”

“I doubt you would have even stayed on my page for long. You probably like to watch the really freaky shit.” You grinned and closed your laptop.

“I don’t know, there’s something sort of sexy about someone looking so innocent.”

“And that’s exactly what my viewers seem to say in the comments.”

Harry never brought up your page after that. You didn’t make him promise not to go searching for it, you just figured he wouldn’t. With all that aside, your living situation was working out perfectly. Sometimes Harry would bring home the day old muffins or bagels from the coffee shop, and you both had all the free coffee you could drink.

When you first moved in he was like his old self. He went out on dates almost every weekend. Normally he wouldn’t bring someone back, but once in a while he would. You never minded, you’d bring people back too, but you started to notice a pattern. Most guys either would have a tough time fucking you if he was home, or would end up leaving the way Jeremy did. You weren’t sure why they felt so threatened by Harry.

You supposed Jeremy could have been taken aback by seeing Harry shirtless. He was muscular, but not quite skinny. Buff in a way. He could hurt someone if he really wanted to. Once you’ve changed into some comfy pj’s, you plop down on the couch with Harry, and dive into the bowl of popcorn he made so you could watch your movie.

“So, I take it you’re not gonna take care of things yourself?”

“I’m too annoyed now.” You sigh. “It’s fine. I’ll try my luck with some random when we go out tomorrow night.”

“Good idea.” He throws his arm around you, and you both settle as the opening credits start.

Harry had to be up early for his shift at the coffee shop. After getting some schoolwork done, you took the opportunity to get some other work done. You had to be dressed for the club tonight anyways, so you got dolled up, and took some new photos for your page. You always got comments about your lips, so you’d use blow-pops to kiss against, or to rub against. You got some really great shots in, and got dressed in your regular clothes before Harry got home.

“Got your evening makeup on already? It’ll be hours before we leave, love.” He says as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re not the only one that worked today.” You wink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“You know, if I didn’t have all my tattoos I could be doing the same thing you’re doing.”

“Plenty of people with tattoos have pages.”

“The last thing I need is to start working at some school, and have a parent recognize me for the wrong reasons.”

“True.” You nod and go into the fridge. “I’m gonna make some stirfry, are you hungry?”

“I could eat.” He shrugs. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Alright.”

You didn’t necessarily mind that you’re dating life was a little tricky. You had all the domesticity you could need with Harry, however, you were certainly hoping to meet someone tonight at the club. You just wanted to have a meaningless hookup.

After dinner, and having a couple of drinks at home, you and Harry meet up with Niall and Louis at the club. Louis and Harry were laughing over something, so you decide to pay Niall a little attention. You always thought he was cute and funny. He was always nice to you too, as was Louis.

“How are things with your classes?” He asks. “Sort of wish I was doing the grad school thing.”

“Oh, but your job is so cool! Data analysis is riveting.” You giggle against the rim of your drink and he shakes his head. “Classes are good. I’m more so just excited to start teaching, but I have a while for that yet. Practicum last year was such a tease.”

“I bet you’d be a fun teacher, you’d certainly have no problem keeping my attention.” He slings one of his arms around the back of the booth you were sitting in and he inches closer. You smile at him and take a sip of your drink.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” You put your hand on his shoulder and twirl the material of his shirt around your finger.

“Your voice for one thing. It’s smooth, soothing. Your smile is sweet, so that helps too.”

You blush a little from his compliments, and finish your drink.

“Need another, babe?” Harry asks, breaking you and Niall from your little chat.

“I can get it.” Niall says. “Vodka tonic?”

“Please.” You smile and watch him go up to the bar. Louis and Harry look at you. “What?”

“Are you trying to fuck Niall?” Louis asks.

“Of course she’s no-“ Harry says, but he’s cut off by you.

“So what if I am?” She scoffs. “It’s safer than trying to get some guy I don’t know, right?”

“If that’s the case, why not just fuck Harry?” Louis smirks.

Harry death glares Louis as your face scrunches.

“It’s a little cliché, isn’t it?” You say. “Fucking your roommate and best friend? I’ll pass. That’s a load of drama we don’t need.”

“So, what you’re saying is, if Harry wasn��t your roommate or your best friend, you’d fuck him?”

“Hmm…” You tap your chin playfully and look Harry up and down. Before you can answer, Niall returns with your drink, and another round for the guys. “Thank you.” You say to him, and he sits down closely next to you.

“You wouldn’t wanna dance, would you?” Niall asks you.

“I’d love to!”

You both get up and make your way over to the dancefloor. Harry sulks while he plays with the straw in his drink.

“What are you all mopey for, huh?” Louis asks him.

“I don’t really like the idea of them hooking up. Could change the dynamic of things for all of us.”

“Instead of worrying about that, why don’t we try to go meet some ladies of our own, hm?” Louis smiles at Harry, and Harry nods in agreement.

You were having a lot of fun dancing with Niall, and his laugh was infectious tonight. You told him you needed to use the ladies room, and when you came back he was acting like a completely different person.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask him over the blaring music.

“No! I just…” He looks over at Harry and Louis and then back to you. “We really shouldn’t be messing around like this.”

“We were just dancing.”

“But it was going to lead to something more, no?”

“Did you want it to?”

“Well, yeah, but you’re my friend, and…I wouldn’t want to make anything weird between us.”

“So…you don’t wanna go into the single stall bathroom and have me suck you off?” You bat your lashes at him and his eyes widen.

“Shit.” He says under his breath. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist, and leads you through the crowd of people. You both go into the bathroom without a single thought and lock the door. You could hear the music faintly as you looked at each other.

“You seemed pretty sure of things before.” You say to him.

“I…I wigged out for a second. I really want this.”

You smile and step forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands go to your hips, and he squeezes you. He tasted like the tequila he had been drinking, and you smile against him. You kiss across his jaw, and to his neck while your hands work to undo his belt.

“You’re okay with this?” You ask him.

“Yeah, go for it. Would it be easier if I sat up on the counter?”

“No, I don’t mind getting on my knees, thanks.” You smirk at him and sink down, tugging his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard dick to spring out. You look up at him, impressed.

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“Sorry.” You chuckle. “Good for you, though, honestly.”

You kiss his tip and he jerks slightly towards you. You wrap your lips around him, and suck on him. His hands move your hair back, and you close your eyes as you work him over. You pump what you can’t fit, or what you don’t feel like fitting, and you hear him panting. This is all you wanted, you just wanted to make someone feel good.

“Y/N, I’m gonna come.” He warns you, and you give his thigh a squeeze to let him know it’s okay.

He comes into your mouth, and you swallow it to not make a mess. He helps you stand up, and then you help him zip his pants. After rinsing your mouth out he grabs you and kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed as he sucks on your bottom lip.

“Would you finger me?” You ask him just above a whisper against your lips.

“I’ll do anything you want.”

Louis was off making out with some girl while Harry was at the bar, brooding. You and Niall come back from the bathroom with flushed cheeks. Harry looks at you, and then looks at Niall. Niall just rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

“Y/N, are you ready to go home?” Harry asks her.

“Um…I was hoping to have another drink, but if you wanna leave we can.”

“I’d like to, yeah.”

You both say goodnight to Niall, and head out. He doesn’t say anything to in the back of the cab, and he’s quiet as you both go inside your flat. He fills two glasses of water and hands one to you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“Why’d you have to fuck my friend? Of all the guys in there, it had to be Niall?”

“I’m going to bed, I’m not having this conversation with you.” You start to walk away from him.

“So if I took Rachel into the bathroom at club and fucked her, you’d be fine with it?”

“Rachel’s a lesbian, so that’s a moot point.”

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“I wouldn’t care, Harry. Also, you make it seem like Niall isn’t my friend, when he is. And not that it’s any of your business, but we didn’t do more than diddle each other. I sucked him off, and then I let him finger me, that was it.”

“You know, if you just needed to get off, I’m sure your own hand would have sufficed.” He huffs.

“Sometimes you just wanna feel someone else’s hand.” You say quietly.

“So Niall’s a good enough friend to diddle you, but I’m not? I’m extremely offended.”

“Harry…I don’t have to see Niall every day. It would get weird between us, and you know it.”

“I’m just saying, if you needed some help-“

“Don’t finish that sentence. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Go put yourself to bed, I’m gonna go wash up.”

“I’m assuming no cuddles tonight then?”

“You’ve assumed correctly, goodnight.”

Harry emerges from his room around ten the next morning, thankful he had the day off from work. You were sitting on the couch in the living room, coffee cup in hand while reading one of your textbooks. He sees you’ve made coffee, and he pours himself a cup.

“Morning.” He yawns as he sits next to you.

“Morning.” You say without looking at him.

“Are you mad at me for some reason? Usually you come to my room after we’ve been out like that, and you didn’t…”

“Harry, do you seriously not remember what happened last night?” He shakes his head no at you. “It just wasn’t a good night for drunk cuddles, okay? Can we leave it at that?”

“Alright.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. “Do you feel like going to the campus library with me in a bit? I’ve got a paper to work on, and a change of scenery would do be some good.”

“Sure! I have some mock lesson plans I need to work on so that sounds good.”

He watches you get up and go into your room so you can get ready. He sighs to himself, feeling bad for lying to you. He takes his phone out to text Niall.

Harry: I’m sorry about last night…I know I can’t control what you do and who you do it with, and clearly what I said to you didn’t matter anyways

Niall: I was going to listen…but she really wanted it, mate, I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything serious, just two friends helping each other out, alright?

Harry: alright

Niall: are you sure you don’t have feelings for her?

Harry: I just don’t think it’s smart for our little circle to comingle like that, that’s all

Niall: whatever you say

“Harry, go get dressed, the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and watch a movie.”

“Right.” He says with a smile and gets up.

Harry fucked up one night. He didn’t feel like trolling on Tinder for a lay, so he found himself on Only Fans. There were a couple of pages he was subscribed to, but they just weren’t doing it for him tonight. He wanted something a little different, so, against his better judgement…he went to your page. Sometimes he’d check it out just to make sure no one was leaving you any sick comments, he never really went there to ogle you. But because you didn’t use your face, he could use his imagination a little bit. He puts his headphones in, and clicks on one of your free videos.

He smiles when he hears one of your favorite songs playing in the background. You were a skilled video editor, hoping to teach that media arts. The video fades in, and there you are, completely clothed. You start dancing, it wasn’t over sexy, but you had a way about taking your clothes off. You were doing a chair dance, one of your specialties. The video ends with you just about to take your shirt off, and then it fades out with a smirk on your lips.

“Oh, she’s good.” He says to himself.

Leaving people wanting more was certainly key on this site. He sighs, and clicks through a couple of the other free things you had on your page, and then eventually he pays to subscribe. You’d never know it was him, it’s not like he used his real name. He was more curious than anything to see what else you could have on there. He clicks through some of your photos. His jaw drops when he sees you licking a lollypop.

There’s a knock on his door, and he nearly throws his laptop across the room. He exits out of his all his tabs and closes his laptop.

“Come in!”

“Hey.” You say, leaning against the door frame.

“What’s up?” He was sweating. Had you seen that you had a new subscriber? Had you somehow figured out it was him?

“I have cramps, can I come lay with you?”

“Oh.” He sighs with relief. “Sure.” He makes some room for you on his bed, and climb on, laying on your stomach.

“What were you up to?”

“Looking for some porn to watch, to be honest with you.” He chuckles as he rubs at your lower back.

“Oh, Christ.” You laugh and nudge his leg. “You didn’t need to let me in.”

“It’s alright, you’re more interesting anyways. How was your day? Feel like I barely saw you?”

“It was good. I had a lot of work to get done so I was at the library, and then I met up with Rach for dinner.”

“How’s she?”

“Good. She’s finally starting to make some friends at work.” You sit up and move to sit on your bum. “I have a cheeky idea. Let’s find a really bad porn to watch.”

“Together?”

“Yeah! We could find a cheesy one from the seventies or something, stuff our faces with ice cream and have a good laugh.”

“I’ll go get the ice cream, you find one to watch.” He slides his laptop over to you, and gets up.

You knew his password, so you enter it in. You open up his browser, and go on incognito mode. He comes back shortly with a gallon of ice cream and two spoons.

“Okay, I think I’ve found one. Major bush on this woman, and the guy.”

“Incredible.” He laughs and hands you a spoon. “Let’s see how they did it back then. Who knows, I may learn something new.”

“God, porn back then was only made for men.” You scoff, and take a bite of the ice cream. “I mean, these women just lay there and take it! What’s the fun in that?”

“I know, I like it when the girl’s a little more involved instead of just starfishing.”

“I’m all for a guy being on top, but you really shouldn’t just lay there. There’s still plenty a girl can do. Although, I have to say, when I’m not super into it, I just lay there until the guy comes.”

“Why not just speak up and tell him to do something else?”

“At that point there’s no coming back. Besides, you know how fragile the male ego is.” You smirk at him.

“True…although, I think it’s really hot when a girl is vocal in the bedroom. If she’s telling me how she likes it then I know she knows her body, and that image alone is so satisfying.” He takes a slow bite of the ice cream to watch your face.

“It doesn’t get frustrating?”

“Not for me.” He shrugs. “I mean, I’m usually able to figure it out without much help, but I always make sure to ask if it feels good.”

“What a gentleman.” You poke his cheek and he swats it away. “I like it when a guy is vocal too, like, isn’t afraid to moan, that kind of stuff.”

“I never understood why guys are so afraid to moan. If it feels good, let it out.”

“Exactly!”

You both completely forgot you had an old porn on in the background until you heard an extremely fake moan rip through the speaker. You both laugh hysterically.

“This must’ve been before boobs jobs got popular, those are as natural as they get.” Harry laughs.

“Jesus, I know, look at those things bounce!” You laugh, and then look down at yourself, frowning.

“What?”

“Well….I have, like, bowling ball tits, like when you go candle pin bowling, is it attractive to watch big, heavy boobs like that?” You point to the screen. “And mine are kinda saggy, and-“

“Please, stop talking about yourself like that. Don’t you have, like, thousands of subscribers on your Only Fans? People clearly like the way you look.”

“They’ve never seen me naked.”

“Still.” He looks down at your covered chest. You were wearing a sweatshirt. “You…not to sound creepy, but you’ve got a great set on you. I’ve always thought so.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just never said anything because I didn’t want you knowing I was checking you out.” He smirks and throw one of his pillows at him. “It’s hard not to with some of the shirts or dresses you wear to the clubs sometimes. You really know how to make yourself look sexy.”

“Oh, and I’m not sexy right now?” You chuckle.

“No, you are, it’s just a different kind of sexy. Like, you more cute than anything else, but still totally fuckable.”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another bite of ice cream. “Mm, we picked a really good flavor this week.”

“I know, way better than last week.”

“I’ve been having fun trying new flavors with you. Gives me something fun to look forward to. Is this twenty-two? Getting excited over ice cream flavors?”

“Pretty soon we’ll be excited over buying a new vacuum, or a dishrack.”

“Oh, I love a good dishrack.”

Harry bursts out laughing, and so do you. You ended up falling asleep with him in his bed, your head cradled to his chest. Harry was always the perfect cure to cramps.

“Oh…hello.” A girl says to you some random Wednesday morning. You were stood in your kitchen making some toast before class.

“Um, hi?”

“Oh, god, he has a girlfriend doesn’t he.” She whines.

“No! I’m Harry’s roommate. Did you spend the night, would you like some coffee?”

“Got scared for a second there. No, I’m all set thank you. Um, have a good one!” She says and leaves the flat.

“Is…is she gone?” Harry whispers from around the corner and you chuckle.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Thank god.” He sighs.

“Since when do you bring someone home with you on a Tuesday night?”

“I was working late at the coffee shop, and she was there doing homework, and one thing lead to another.” He pours himself a cup of coffee.

“And it was no good?”

“Terrible, I didn’t even ask for her number.”

“What made it so terrible?”

“She just…she wasn’t…doing it for me, I don’t know. There was no connection, Y/N.” He sighs.

“Maybe it’s time you start actually dating and work your way up to fucking someone.”

“That would involve me having to get to know someone, and I can’t stand people.” He pouts.

“Good thing you’re going to be a fucking teacher then.” You laugh. “Hurry up and get ready, or we’ll be late for class.”

Harry gets ready, and you both walk to campus for your K-12 instructors class. You were thankful to have class with Harry, you weren’t sure what you’d do without him. Just having someone to make eye contact with when someone said something stupid, or if the professor did something cringey.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hey, Daniel.” You smile up at him. “What’s up?”

“Well, I…I was wondering if you had plans this weekend? On Saturday?”

You look at Harry and he shakes his head no.

“Not that I can think of, no.”

“Great, uh, would you like to go to the movies? We could grab dinner as well.”

“I…I’d like that a lot, um, here.” You take your phone out to hand it to him. He puts his number and texts himself.

“Cool, I’ll text you later.” He moves to go sit down a few rows behind you. You look at Harry with a grin on your face.

“See, dating, it’s sorta fun.” You say to him.

“Wining and dining someone sure is a lot of effort. Don’t think I quite have it in me, but you have yourself a good time, pet.”

You have a wonderful time with Daniel on Saturday night. He took you to Panera, and then to see a comedy. He let you pick the movie, and you were delighted. You shared a lot of laughs, and made out with him in his car before he took you home.

“I ha d a lot of fun.” You tell him.

“Me too.” He says. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that.” You smile and get out of his car. When you get up to your flat, you can’t wait to dish with Harry about how your night went.

“Hola chica.” He says to you from the kitchen.

“Late night tacvos, my favorite. Save me any?”

“Course, grab what you like. How was your date?”

“Really good. Daniel’s super sweet.”

“Not sweet enough to bring home?”

“I’m taking my own advice and giving dating a try. He asked me if I wanted to go out again sometime and I said yes. We did kiss for a bit, it was nice.” You shove a taco into your mouth. “Mm, you make the best tacos, Har.”

“Don’t I know it? So…so you kissed, but nothing else?” He mutters as he finishes his food.

“Nope.”

“Did you want to?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug.

“Then you shouldn’t go out with him again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you didn’t wanna rip his clothes off, it’s probably not gonna last.”

“Lust doesn’t make a relationship.”

“No, but it should be passionate. Even if you’re respectful and wait, you should still wanna fuck the person.”

“Sometimes you have to work up to feeling that way.”

“Nah, when you know, you know.” He winks at you and goes over to the couch. “I was about to watch-“

“Oh my god!” You screech.

“What?!”

“Did you not check the mail earlier?! Kevin and Ashley are getting married! This is their save the date. Holy fucking shit.”

“Makes sense, they’ve been together forever.”

“Well, we have to go, Harry.”

“Okay.” He hears you suck your teeth. “What?”

“No plus ones…”

“So? We’d just go together anyways. We can save money on a hotel room too.”

“That’s true. I just…wow, I couldn’t imagine getting married right now.”

“Like I said, when you know, you know.” He plops down onto the couch and turns the TV on. You sit down next to him. You look at him for a moment, and then turn your attention to the TV. Nothing else really needed to be said.

You hated it when Harry was right. Daniel was nice, but there was no spark. You went on four dates with him, and you didn’t want to fuck him.

“Hey, I was looking on the hotel website for the wedding, the room with the king sized bed is actually cheaper than the one with the two queens. That work for you?” He asks you as he comes into your room holding his laptop.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just tell me how much I need to Venmo you.”

“Will do, it’s not terribly expensive. I’ll only need a hundred bucks from you.”

“Perfect.” You take your phone and send him the money. “Thanks for booking it.”

“No problemo.” He comes in and sits on your bed. “What are you up to, babydoll?”

“Just putting some mock lesson plans together.” You sigh. “Could definitely use a break, though.” He lays down on your bed and pats the spot next to him. You roll your eyes at him, and he pouts. “Ugh, fine.” You get onto your bed with him. “Happy now?”

“Very…although….”

“What?”

“Well, you get to lay your head on my chest all the time. I’d like to do the same. Or…okay, there’s this trend on Tik Tok…could I lay down between your legs?”

“Um…like…with your head in my crotch?” You laugh. “I can put a pillow there and you can lay down if you like.”

“Okay.” You grab a pillow for him, and he gets on his back, resting his head, and looking up at you. You run your fingers through his curls and his eyes flutter closed. “I love it when you play with my hair.” He sighs.

“I knew you were coming in here with a motive. Booking the hotel room to get something out of it, huh?”

“Your nails just feel so good, and you know it.”

“Well, you better return the favor. I like getting my hair played with too.”

“I’ll touch you wherever you want me to, alright?” He yawns. “Just don’t stop for a bit.”

You brush off his crude comment, and does as he says. You liked playing with Harry’s hair, so it wasn’t a burden, and you liked when you two would just get cozy together like this. There weren’t many people you felt this comfortable with.

“Y/N, we need to get going down to the ceremony.” Harry calls from the bedroom of the hotel.

“Well, I wouldn’t be running behind if someone hadn’t taken twice as long as they said they would in the bathroom!”

“Can’t rush perfection, darling.” He smirks to himself.

“Mhm, so what does that make me?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom. His mouth nearly falls open.

You had gotten your hair into a loose, low bun, with plenty of hair in the front to frame your face. You had a strapless purple dress on with black tights and black heels.

“Um…stunning, you look stunning.”

“Thanks.” You smile and grab your clutch. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” You wink at him and head out.

You both were blubbering messes during the ceremony. Rachel made sure to make fun you both for it. Once the cocktail hour hit, you were good to go. You found your table and sat down. You talked with some other friends and explained how grad school was going. You make it through the speeches and dinner, and then it’s time to dance.

Being at something like this reminded you of being at an old uni party, only more upscale. Ashley and Kevin’s families were around, so the music wasn’t exactly what you’d normally get down to, but there was an open bar that you were able to take advantage of. Partying with Harry was one of your favorite things. He always used to bring you to the best ones. A slow song starts to play, and you giggle as he bows and extends his hand to you.

“You’re an idiot.” You say as you take his hand and he pulls you close to him.

“Ah, but you’re still choosing to dance with me, babe.”

“Only cause I’m too lazy to find someone else.”

“Ha! That’ll be us someday reading vows at our won wedding. I was too lazy to find someone else, so I settled for my best friend.” He smirks at you and swat his shoulder.

“Would you be quiet? Enough of the people here think something’s going on between us as it is.”

“True.” He looks around at a few people’s wandering eyes. “Should we give them a bit of a show?” He slides his hands further down your back, getting dangerously close to your bum.

“Harry!” You squeal and giggle. “Stop it.” You grab his hands put them to their previous spot. “Just dance with me, would you?”

He chuckles and sways around with you. You both got pretty plastered. You couldn’t stop giggling with him all the way up to your room. You sigh once you get your heels off.

“Okay, I’m using the bathroom first.” You say to him.

“Fine.” He sighs and starts unbuttoning his dress shirt.

You head into the bathroom, and use the toilet. You get your tights all the way off and groan when you can’t reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Ugh, Harry!” You call for him. “I need your help!”

“Yeah?” He says, stepping into the bathroom in only his boxers. Nothing you hadn’t seen before.

“My zipper.”

“Oh.” He places a hand on your shoulder, and the other grips the zipper, slowly dragging it down. You clutch the front of it. “You’re not…uh…no bra?”

“No, there’s one built into the dress.” You turn around to face him. “I just need to grab my pj’s and then I’ll need a couple minutes to take my hair out.” You brush by him to go into your suitcase. He takes the opportunity to use the toilet and brush his teeth.

“Need help with anything else?” He asks as you step back into the bathroom.

“Nope, think I can handle the rest, thanks.” You giggle. “Wouldn’t mind some head scratches once I get into bed though.”

Harry gets into bed and waits for you. You come out with your hair a mess, your makeup smeared from rinsing it, and he furrows his brows at you.

“That’s my shirt.” He says as you knee onto the bed.

“Mhm, well, that’s what happens when you ask me to do your laundry for you. I steal your shirts as compensation.”

“Fair enough I suppose. Come here.”

You smile and lay on his chest so he can run his fingers through your hair. You moan softly from it as you relax into him.

“Feels so nice.” You mumble into his chest.

“I can tell.” One of his hands moves to rub your back. He mimics your moaning and you punch him in the arm. “Oi! I won’t love on you if you do that.”

“M’not asking you to love on me, I just wanted me head scratched. Be grateful you get to hear me make those noises, not everyone does.”

“Bet you’d make thousands if you posted something like that on your Only Fans.” He mutters and you move to look at him. “What?”

“Do you…ever look at my page?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes I check your comments to see if anyone’s being rude.”

“Oh…” You swallow. “I make enough doing what I’m doing. I…I’d be too shy to do the really explicate stuff. I also just feel, like, I don’t want just anyone to see me naked, you know? That’s why I don’t go live, everyone would just ask me to take my clothes off.”

“I get that. Wanna keep it private for someone special.”

“Exactly. I mean, I’ve talked about this with you before, but there are plenty of people that are into what I post.”

“You certainly leave them wanting more.”

“You’ve…watched?”

“I’ve checked out some of the free videos you’ve posted, yeah.” He admits shamelessly. “You’re a very good dancer.” He smiles at you.

“I’m going to sleep.” You yawn and turn over. “Goodnight.” You look over your shoulder at him. “If you behave you can spoon me if you want.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Slide my prick between your ass cheeks? Grow up.” He says as he wraps his arm around you. You can’t help but laugh. “However, if I get hard while I’m sleeping you can’t get mad.”

“Suppose it’s not my fault I have such a fat, juicy ass, hm?”

“Go to sleep.” He laughs, and presses his chest to your back.

“Mm, you’re so cozy, Harry.”

“I know I am. Go to sleep, lovie.” He coos, and rubs at your side.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” He sighs and nestles into the back of your head.

“So…you let him spoon you all night, and nothing happened?” Rachel whispers to you at breakfast the next morning.

“Happens more often than not, it’s not a big deal.”

“You two are so fucking weird! I’ve literally never met two people who were close that do what you do. Why not just make the jump? Neither one of you can manage to make another relationship work.”

“I don’t know…I…I just don’t see him like that, and I know Harry. If he really liked me like that he’d go for it.”

“Maybe he’s just scared to fuck it up with you.”

“Exactly, so, let’s just not fuck it up and try anything.”

“What are you two hens clucking about, hm?” Harry says as he sits down, putting a cinnamon roll in front of you. “Had you favorite.”

“I’m trying to watch the carbs…” You mutter.

“Please.” He scoffs. “Would you just eat the fucking pastry? It’s good for you.”

“How is that thing good for me?” You laugh.

“It makes you happy when you eat it. You always hum and smile when you eat a cinnamon roll.”

“How sweet of you to notice.” Rachel remarks. “You’re practically her boyfriend.”

“Rachel.” You seethe, and take a bite of the pastry. You hum softly. “Why do these bloody things taste so good, huh?”

Harry chuckles and rubs the back of your neck briefly as he eats his own breakfast. He and Rachel share a glance, but that’s the extent of that interaction.

“Hey, Harry?” You tap on the outside of his door frame.

“Yeah, babe?” He says, taking his headphones out. It was a Friday evening and you both were doing homework. His eyes widen when he looks at you. “Your face is all flushed, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I just…could you come look at something for me?”

“Sure.” He follows you to your room and sits with you on your bed.

“Um...could I…could I show you some new photos I took yesterday? I just finished editing them…and I’m feeling a little self-conscious.”

“Aw, why? You’re so beautiful.” He keeps your cheek and rubs his thumb along your cheekbone. “Course I’ll look ‘em over for you.”

“Thanks.” You swallow and put your laptop on his lap. “So…like usual, they’re not overly explicit, but I feel like my boobs look weird. I should have gotten something with more support.” You blush and point to the photo.

“They’re perfect, you look perfect, Y/N.” You suck your teeth at him. “You do! What else do you want me to say?”

“Okay, what about this one?”

“Perfect.”

“This one?”

“Perfect.”

“But what about this one?”

“Perfect, they’re all perfect. I don’t know why you don’t think so.” He frowns and sets your laptop down on your desk. He turns to look at you. “What’s really going on?”

“It’s just…I have all these people leaving comments saying they wish they could know me, date, fuck me…and…like I don’t know any of them! All they know about me is that I can dance, and I look cute sucking on a lollypop. I…if I wasn’t making the money I that I am I’d stop doing it because I just want someone real to say all of those things to me, you know?”

“Y/N…” Harry sighs. “I know you, I wanna date you, and I certainly want to fuck you.”

“Wh-what?”

“I know, it’s so cliché it’s disgusting, isn’t it?” He smirks. “But it’s how I feel. I’m sick of tip toeing around it.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

“Can’t really pinpoint it, I don’t think it’s been long, but it doesn’t feel new either.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and he puts his hand back on your cheek. You lean into it. You felt deeply confused.

“I just never thought we’d…like…I just didn’t think you were into my like that.”

“Well, I am, so…what do you think? We already get along great. We like spending time together. I truthfully can’t stand other people. I think you’re the only person’s day I actually like hearing about. Have you really never thought about it?”

“I don’t know! You never made a move when we were in undergrad, with all those nights we slept next to each other, you never did anything…”

“Yeah, because you were asleep, Y/N.” He deadpans. “What did you want me to do? Feel you up while you were unconscious? Or better yet, make a move while we were both intoxicated?”

“No, of course not.” You shake your head. “I…I don’t know what I wanted. I just felt lucky that I had such a good friend.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs. “Look, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, this doesn’t need to be weird. Just know if you wanted to give it a try, I’d be down.”

“You’re genuinely attracted to me, like, physically?”

“Yes.” He chuckles. “And I like what you got going on up here too.” He taps your forehead with his index finger. “But you knew that already. What about me, are you physically attracted to me?”

“Well…yeah, you know you’re hot.”

“I didn’t ask you what I know.” He smirks.

“Okay, yeah, I’ve always thought you were handsome, but you used to really be a douchebag, it turned me off. Made it easier to just be your friend.” You smirk at him and he rolls his eyes.

“M’not like that anymore.” He inches closer to you. You could feel his minty breath fanning over you.

“I know.” You say just above a whisper. The mood had changed immensely. The dim lighting in your room was creating an atmosphere you had never really felt with him before.

“So…I guess the only thing left to figure out is if there’s any real heat between us.” You nod at him as his hand goes back to cradle your cheek once more. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

You move towards each other slowly, your lips gracefully pressing against each other’s. You felt scared as your eyes pinched closed. It was scary to kiss your best friend, and what was scarier was that fact that it felt so natural and seamless. He pulls away, just to see if you’ll chase him, and you do, kissing him again. You do the same to him, and he comes chasing after your soft lips.

“Harry.” You whisper as you press your forehead to his.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

“I…I wanna have sex with you.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

He cups both of your cheeks and pulls your lips back to his. His tongue peeks out to swipe along your bottom lip. He runs his lips back and forth over yours, and you open up for him. Your tongues meet, and you lick against each other, eliciting a moan from the both of you. You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lets you lift it off. Your run your hands up and down his stomach as you continue to explore each other’s mouths, lips getting puffy and swollen. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth while he unzips the sweatshirt you’re wearing. He pushes it off your shoulders, and you shimmy it the rest of the way off. He’s met with your bare breasts, and he licks his lips as he looks at them.

Harry pulls you closer to him, and his lips press against your neck. You cling to his biceps as he works his mouth down your chest. He looks up at you as he sucks on one of your nipples, rolling it between your teeth. You can’t help your head from falling back. He slides down to the floor as he continues to kiss on you. Your mouth falls open as he nips and sucks on your stomach, and his fingers hook into your leggings. He looks up at you and you nod. He tugs your leggings and underwear down your legs and gets them all the way off.

“Y/N, you’re sure?”

“Yes, I want you to, please.”

You open your legs for him, and he just about loses it from your confidence. He leans forward and kisses each of your hips. You think he’s about to go for your center, but he sucks on your inner thigh. You flinch from the sensitivity, but it feels good. You make sure to sit up on your elbows so you can watch him. He looks up at you and licks a flat stripe between your folds. He sucks on each of your lips before spreading you apart with his thumbs to focus on your clit. He sucks on it at first, harshly, and you gasp. He uses the tip of his tongue to flick back and forth against it. He runs his hands along your thighs to keep you open for him. You were clenching around nothing. His tongue was warm and wet, and everything you needed.

Your body starts to feel warm all over, you can feel your orgasm start to bubble up from within your lower belly. You let yourself fall back against the bed as you start to pant. Your voice cracks as louder moans begin to rip through your throat. He was sucking and slurping on your cunt, noises you had never heard before while someone was going down on you. And to really push you over the edge, he was moaning into you. Not little whimpers or grunts, genuine moans that were vibrating into you.

“Oh my god!” You cry out. A few tears roll down your cheeks as he continues to lap around you, helping you come down.

He kisses back up your body until he’s hovering over you. He smears his lips over yours, and you grunt, pulling him closer to you. It was the filthiest kiss of your life, completely tasting yourself on him, but you didn’t care. He just made you feel better than anyone ever did. You push him so he’ll on his back, and this time you’re the one to sink onto the floor. You get his jeans and boxers down his legs. Your eyes bug out when you see his large prick slap back against his stomach.

“Christ, Harry.”

“As if you didn’t already know.” He smirks.

“I mean, I had an idea.”

You spit into your hand and wrap it around his length. He grits his teeth as you start to slowly pump him up and down. You run his tip along your lips, and his mouth falls open. Your tongue presses over his slit and you wrap your lips around him. You suckle his tip, eliciting a moan from him. You hollow your cheeks and sink almost all the way down on him. You just wanted to feel him down your throat. You breathe your nose and just hold him there.

“Y/N.” He stutters.

You slowly pull off of him, a string of spit keeping you connected. You suck in a breath before sinking back down on him, not quite as much as you took before, and you bob up and down his length. You cup his balls and massage them as you make a mess of his prick. There was spit, drool, and precome dripping down your chin. Harry was a panting mess on the bed. His hands were gripping at the sheets, and the sight of him doing that causes you to moan. To see his veins popping out the way they were was enough to make you come again.

“Y/N, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You moan around him as his come spurts into your mouth. You swallow it all and suck him dry. He pulls you up to him, dumbfounded that you just did what you did.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He breathes.

“I do, I’ve heard you have pretty good stamina.” You peck his lips. “I’m sure you’ll get hard again soon.”

He groans and shifts his thighs between your legs, making you gasp. He grips your hips and starts moving you back and forth along his tiger tattoo. Your nails dig into his chest as you work to grind against him.

“H-Harry.” You mewl.

“Yeah, ride my fucking leg, baby, show me how you do it.”

“God.”

“I want you so bad, I wanna fuck you so bad, Y/N.”

“Oh, oh!” You come undone on his thigh. You lean down and press your lips to his, licking into his mouth. Before you know it he’s moving you up his body, turning you around, and licking back into your cunt. “Shit!”

He’s relentless with you, fucking you with his tongue, telling you to bounce up and down on him, and you listen. He sucks on your clit again, and you fall forward, head resting on his thigh. You watch as his cock bloats back up. You’d never know someone to enjoy doing this so much. You kiss on his thigh because you just needed to do something with your mouth. He makes you come again, and he lifts you off of his face.

“Think you can keep going?” He smirks as your head falls back against your pillows.

He grabs your legs and pushes them back so your knees press against the bed. He lifts your bum enough to rest on his thighs, and he dips his tongue back into your cunt. This was some serious teasing. You watch as his tongue goes in and out of you, deeper each time. He reaches forward with one of his hands to rub your clit. It was throbbing for him.

“Harry, please.”

“What, no good?”

“No, it’s amazing, but…I really wanna feel your dick now, please, I know you’re hard again.”

“You just taste so good.” He brings his mouth down to your cunt and sucks on it.

“This won’t be the only time I’ll let your head between my legs, I promise.” You let your legs drop back to lay normally. He sits back as you look at each other. “When was the last time you were tested? I…I’m clean, and if you are too, I’d prefer not to use a condom if you feel comfortable with that.”

“STD test came back negative a month ago when I went in for a checkup. You’re on the pill?”

“Yeah.”

He leans down to kiss you, and then he pulls back to paint his cock with your wetness that was uncontrollably leaking out of you for him. He presses his tip against your clit, and slides it down your slit. He pushes inside you slowly. He fills you to the hilt, and waits. For a moment he just wants to enjoy how tight and snug you are around him. You push your hips up and start rocking against him.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Because I’m moving myself on you?” You giggle.

“I just think it’s cute that you’re so goddamn impatient.”

“Would you just shut up and show what you can do with this thing? Or am I gonna have to do all of this myself?”

He accepts the challenge, pulling his hips back, and snapping them forward. You reach behind yourself to press against the headboard so your head doesn’t smack against it. He drives it into you fast and deep. He pushes you to the brink of coming, but he pulls all the way out of you. Before you can complain he flips you over, and grabs your hips. He pulls you back to him and slips back inside. You moan out from the new angle, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours makes your eyes roll back. He gives your bum a light smack and you grunt.

“You can do that a little harder, a little.” You didn’t want him to fully spank you, you weren’t into that sort of thing, but you didn’t mind feeling it a little more. He delivers a harsher smack and you groan again.

“You have the best ass I’ve ever seen.” He smacks you again and you grip onto the pillows. He grips the back of your neck to get a steadier pace going, and he uses his other hand to rub your clit.

“Fuck, Harry. You’re so attentive.” You manage to say. You felt like you could barely breathe.

“I’m gonna ruin you for any other guy.”

“Don’t want any other guy.” You admit. “I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”

“Christ.” He moans.

His fingers move faster on your clit, and his tip pounds against your g-spot, and you’re coming. You’re coming hard around him. He pulls out and sits up against the headboard. You look up at him, completely frazzled.

“I want you ride me.”

“Okay.” You breathe. You shuffle around and swing your leg over him. You line him up with yourself and sink down on him.

He fondles your breasts as you move up and down on him. He kisses on your chest as you get a rhythm going. He leans back just to watch your tits bounce up and down. He looks up at you and grips you by the back of your neck to pull your mouth down to his. You breathe each other in and out as you moan and gasp. He takes control by gripping your hips, and you cling to him to let him just do what he wanted with you. You tighten around him and his head falls back for a moment.

“Where can I come?” He asks.

“Where do you want to come?”

“Inside you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grunts.

You cry out as he does when he comes. You don’t think you had ever felt so full in your life. He kisses you as you both catch your breaths. You tug at his hair, and grind against him. You were close to coming again. He takes the hint and snakes his hand between you both and rubs your clit. Your orgasm rips through you, and you moan into his neck.

“I’m so fucking sweaty.” You whisper.

“Do you wanna take a shower?”

“Yeah.” You look up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do I still have legs? Because I can’t feel them.”

He puffs out some air as he laughs, smoothing some hair away from your face.

“Yes, you still have legs, Y/N. Should I carry you to the bathroom?”

“Please, I really need to pee.”

He kisses your forehead and slowly lifts you off of him. You clench so nothing falls out. You didn’t want to make a bigger mess of your bed.

“We can sleep in my room and wash your sheets tomorrow, don’t worry about that.” He says as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom.

He sets you down on the toilet and steps out to give you some privacy. Once he hears the water for the shower start he comes back in. He splays a hand on your back and gives you a gentle rub before you both step in. You felt overwhelmed. You just had the best sex of your life with your very best friend. As he reaches for his body wash you swat his hand. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Would you…would you just hold me?” Your bottom lip quivers, and he pulls you into his chest.

You nestle into him, and just stand under the warm water with him. He cradles your head and lets you cry into him. He starts to cry too, although he’s not really sure why.

“I don’t want anything to get fucked up between us, Harry.” You look up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love you so much, and I don’t want something bad to happen that’ll make us hate each other.”

“M’not gonna let that happen.” He wipes your tears away, and then wipes away his own. “We’re gonna do this right. We’ll go out on dates, and we’ll see where it goes, and I hope it goes well because I love you too, and I value so many of the things we have with each other.”

You each take turns scrubbing each other down, getting clean. It’s soothing, and calming. You both relax, and get wrapped up into some towels. You run the blow dryer through your hair quickly just so it’s not sopping wet. He gives you one of his bed shirts to wear, and you crawl into bed with him. Being immersed in his scent was exactly what you needed. You rest your head on his chest, and he throws his arm around you.

“When was the last time you actually dated someone?” You ask softly.

“Um…think I was sixteen to be honest with you.”

“Ah, so a while.” You chuckle.

“You literally know my entire sexual history, and I know yours, let’s not pretend we’re both experts with all this.”

“So…we’ll just make this up as we go? I mean, I like that we sleep together sometimes, but I wanna keep my room, I don’t wanna move into the same room.”

“Christ, slow down, we just got together and you’re already talking about moving into the same bedroom?” You swat at his chest and he laughs, kissing the top of your head. “In all seriousness, I feel the same way, I think we should still have our separate spaces. You get pissed off with me easily.”

“Maybe you should try not to piss me off then.”

“Well, now that I know you enjoy a good tonguing, I’m not really worried about it. God, we can make up from a fight with sex instead of watching Dirty Dancing, it’s gonna be incredible.”

“Can…can we not do both?” You look up at him. “I love singing Hungry Eyes with you.”

“Yeah, both is good.”

“And I wanna make sure we clarify what are dates, and what’s just hanging out. I want dates to feel…special, I don’t know.”

“Can do. I think study dates at the library are gonna be my favorite.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can rile you up. I’ll sit across from you to play footsie, and then I’ll run my foot up your leg. I’ll make eyes at you. You’ll end up blowing me in the bathroom, it’ll be great.”

“Mm, yes, well, what if my leg’s the one doing the rubbing? I could probably make you come in your pants from my foot on your crotch alone.”

“Okay, no study dates. You know what I would really like, though?”

“What?”

“Sometimes…sometimes I really miss you when I work double shifts at work, and then I feel bad because you’re here all by yourself…so maybe you could come to the coffee shop more? Hang out, do homework, I’ll give you free food.”

“Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You bite your bottom lip. “You’re not gonna ask me to give up my Only Fans are you?”

“What? No, why would you even think that?”

“I don’t know…you’re the jealous type, Harry.”

“True…but if that’s what you wanna do for work, I don’t have a problem with it. Can I tell you a dirty secret?”

“Always.”

“I’m subscribed to your page.”

“You are?!”

“Yeah…I’ve never wanked to your stuff because I feel like that would be creepy, but I do keep up with what you post.”

“I’m not gonna do it forever, once I get a real job I won’t need it…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, babe. Even if you were doing the really filthy stuff, I wouldn’t care. That’s your business.”

“God, if I wasn’t so tired I’d hop on your dick again.”

He chuckles at that and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

“Any other questions?”

“I don’t think so. Although, I’m not looking forward to telling Rachel. The it’s about time or I told you so is not gonna be fun.”

“Same with Niall and Louis. We just gotta rip the band aid.”

You hum your response and get a little cozier by putting one of your legs over his. It was easy enough to fall asleep. You talked, so you weren’t worried about your friendship ending. If anything, it was all going to get better. Being able to kiss and touch on top of how you were with each other already was just the cherry on top. It didn’t happen over drinks, it didn’t happen in a club, and it didn’t happen by mistake. This was on purpose. He was the person you were supposed to be with, and he felt the same way.

#and they were roommates #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #jealous!Harry #bestfriend!Harry #roommate!Harry #roommate!reader

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viking-raider · 3 years

Text

Southern Generation - Part I

Summary: After more than a decade of service, Captain Syverson as retired from the military, but now that he is retired, he still needs to find a job.

Pairing: Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 6,214

Rating: PG - Quasi-Slow Burn, Language, PTSD, Fluff, Angst, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Reclusive Behavior

Inspiration: I wrote a similar story for another fandom and I’ve wanted to finally write a Sy story, since I don’t have one.

Author’s Note: I wasn’t going to post this til I was done, but thought what the hell. Thanks to @wondersofdreaming of for her help with it.

He was home, finally and for good.

After more than ten years of service in the U.S Army and retiring as a Captain, Austin Wyatt Syverson was no longer a soldier. It felt amazing to be back on southern soil again, home sweet home; back in the city he was named after.

Austin, Texas.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Syverson found his way back home, to his flat in central Austin. He didn't expect a huge welcome back, unlike the first time he came back home from overseas, years before. His parents had decorated his apartment with streamers, a 'welcome back' sign and balloons. They had cake and noise makers as he entered, surprising him. But, this time, there was none of that, just bare gray walls, covered in band posters and other things Syverson liked.

His father had died of a heart attack two years into his second deployment and his mother had passed from breast cancer a year before. He was an only child and he wasn't close to his other relatives, so he would have hit the floor if any of them had even sent him a 'welcome back' text.

No, Austin Syverson was on his own, and he was more than all right with that. One thing he wasn't all right with was not having a job. So, after settling in, getting into his civilian clothing and cooking a good home cooked lunch, he picked up a newspaper and perused the job section. He preferred a job that he could do with his hands, he had always liked working with his hands, even as a kid, tinkering in the garage with his dad. Several advertisements caught his attention and he saved the numbers in his phone, planning on calling them to inquire about the job, but for now, Syverson just wanted to relax and settle in as a newly-minted civilian.

The one thing he did miss was Aika, the German Shepherd he befriended back in Baghdad. He had started the process of having Aika sent over from Iraq, but she was stuck in a month-long quarantine, before she would be cleared to be with him again, in Austin.

“She's all the family I need.” Sy said, popping the cap off a cold one.

Bright and early the next morning, Sy started calling the numbers in the advertisements and discovered to his disgruntled annoyance, that the paper he picked up was nearly a week old. He made a mental note to give the clerk at the corner store a piece of his mind, the next time he saw him.

“I'm really sorry, Mr. Syverson.” the owner of a construction company sighed, feeling bad that he didn't have room on his current job for him.

“It's fine, I'll find something.” Sy frowned, rubbing the side of his face. “Thanks though.” He sighed, and started to hang up.

“Wait!”

Sy paused, his finger almost pressed to his screen to hang up the call, and put it back to his ear. “Yeah?” He replied, biting his lip.

“I just remembered, it's a private contract, I got it a couple days ago.” He explained, fumbling through several stacks of papers and files he had strewn across his desk. “It's out in Celina, I know that's a bit of a drive from where you are in Austin.”

“That's fine.” Sy answered, relieved. “A job is a job.”

He figured if he could do a job overseas, he could do a job three hours outside of Austin.

“Well, if you want it, it's yours.” He told Sy, finally finding the paper he was looking for.

“Of course!”

He gave Sy the details of the contract, it was a private contract, sent into his company by a young lady, who lived just outside of Celina, Texas, on a small farm. Apparently the house and the barn on the property were in disrepair and she wanted them repaired. So, Sy took the contract and the information, then hung up with him, immediately calling the number he had given him for the young lady.

“Hello?” A soft, almost meek, voice answered.

“Hi, I'm Cap-” Sy cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut, it was going to be a while, before he broke himself out of the habit of introducing himself as Captain Syverson. “I'm Austin Syverson. I know you don't know me, but I got your contract from Mr. McJames, the owner of Diamond Ridge Constructions, in Austin.” He explained to her, sure it sounded a bit crazy.

“Oh.” She replied, unconsciously brushing her hair out of her face. “Right. The contract.”

“Is it still available?” He asked, feeling a small tingle of apprehension in the pit of his stomach.

“Yes!” She answered, hastily, worried she had given him the wrong impression. “Yes, the contract is still available. You're actually my only inquirer for it.” She told him, honestly.

“I would love to meet up with you and talk about it.” Sy said, letting out a relieved sigh and felt his massive shoulders relax.

“Um,” She gulped, licking her lips and felt her hands shake.

“I could meet you in Celina, take you for coffee?” He suggested, hoping to make her more comfortable with meeting him in a public place. “My treat.” He added, with a sweet tone.

“No, no.” She squeaked, fidgeting in her chair. “That's all right, if you want to take the contract it's yours, Mr. Syverson. It's seventeen an hour, with everything provided.” She explained to him, taking deep breaths, to calm down her nerves.

Sy was a little surprised by how easy it was, but he was willing to do the job, either way. “Of course, I would gladly take the job for you.” He agreed.

“Excellent.” She smiled, bouncing on her toes. “You can start at your earliest convenience.” She told him.

“I can come by tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you.” He replied, looking around his kitchen for something to write with and on, so he could take down her address.

“That's splendid.” She assured him, then rattled off her address for him. “If you have any issues finding the place, just call.” She told him, before they hung up.

Sy woke up early, for the three hour drive from Austin to Celina.

It was a nice drive, watching the bustling city of Austin slowly melt away to the rural landscape of the countryside, endless farmlands of varying crops. Sy found it rather soothing, after seeing nothing but sand, rubble and burned out buildings for so long. He felt like he was getting back to his roots again, his southern heritage. His GPS chimed into his thoughts, announcing he was within a mile of her home. So, he turned off the music he was playing and rolled down the window of his truck, squinting at the mailboxes that dotted the few dirt driveways along the long country road.

“You've passed your destination.”

“Fuck.” Sy grunted, tires screeching as he turned around.

He stopped his truck by the side of the road and got out, looking up and down the empty road, frowning. He pulled his GPS device off its holder and started walking in the direction it indicated her house was in, pausing, as it told him he was standing exactly where he needed to be. Turning in a circle, he noticed the sun baked, wooden gate, that was slightly hidden by weeds and had no mailbox. Frowning, Sy locked up his truck, pushed open the gate that almost fell over in the process, before walking up the driveway.

The simple, two story farmhouse slowly came into view. The roof of the farm porch was dilapidated and sagging, there were shingles missing on both roofs, the paint of the house was faded and peeling, chipping away from the warped and cracked boards, a couple of them were missing.

“It definitely needs work.” Sy said, stopping to look the house over, then noticed the barn a couple of yards away, in even worse condition. “Looks like I got my work cut out for me.” He sighed, but wasn't daunted by any of it.

His eyes moved away from the barn and back to the house as the screen door opened and a woman stepped out onto the porch; Sy could practically hear the high-pitch creak of the screen door from where he stood. She was a teeny little thing, maybe five foot, and looked timid, by the way she hugged the screen door, using it to hide behind as she watched him finish approaching the house.

“Mr. Syverson?” She called out to him, biting her bottom lip.

“Yes, ma'am.” Sy answered, stopping at the bottom of the warped steps leading up to her on the porch.

“I hope you didn't have too much trouble finding the place?”

“Not at all.” He smiled at her, shaking his head. “I don't lose my way often.” He assured him, teasingly.

“Good.” She chuckled, nervousness. “I suppose you'd like a closer look at the place?” She asked, glancing around the porch.

“If you don't mind.” Sy nodded, glancing around as well.

Biting her lip, she stepped out onto the porch, the screen door closing with a soft bang. “I'm sure you saw a lot of the issues on your way up.” She explained, slowly stepping off the porch.

“I have.” Sy nodded, looking down and smirking at her bare feet. “Seems a lot of the boards are rotted and the house, and barn, could use a good fresh coat of paint.”

“That's the least of the problems.” She replied, looking at the side of the house as they rounded its corner, heading towards the barn. “There's several weak points in the roof, on both the barn and the house.”

“When was the place built?” He asked, touching the side of the house, flecks of paint brushing off under his fingertips.

“1921.” She answered, looking up to the top of the house, squinting in the bright sunlight. “I bought the place four years ago.” She explained, turning towards the barn.

“I can understand you wanting to fix up the house, being you live in it.” Sy commented, checking out the barn. “But, what do you want the barn with? If you don't mind me asking.”

“I'm considering turning it into my studio.” She answered, trying to push open the barn door.

“What do you do?” Sy asked, helping her push open the door; one handed, while she leaned her body into it.

“I'm a graphic designer and a photographer.” She explained to him, stepping inside the barn with him.

“That's cool.” He smiled at the back of her head.

“Thanks.” She replied, smiling at him over her shoulder. “So,” She gulped and glanced around the barn. “Do you think you can do the job?” She asked, regarding him.

Sy heaved a sigh and roamed around the barn for a moment, checking things out. “I'm more than sure I could.” He finally said, stopping in front of her and crossed his arms. “It might take a couple of weeks to finish. But, I can do it.”

“Great.” She smiled, relieved and excited to hear that he could.

“I can start right away, if you want.” He added, resolute.

“Sounds excellent.” She nodded, fidgeting and nervously twisting the hem of her tank top with her fingers. “I can get the tools for you.” She turned and left the barn, heading back towards her house.

Sy followed after her, staying on the top step of the porch, while she disappeared inside. “Here.” He smiled as she came back, carrying a heavy red and rushed toolbox; stepping forward to take it from her.

“If you need anything else, more tools or supplies, like, I don't know, lumber or whatever.” She mumbled, staring down at her bare feet, shyly. “Just ask.”

“I will.” Sy grinned down at her, hefting the toolbox and making the tools inside of it rattle.

With that, Sy gave her a gentlemanly nod of his head and stepped off the porch. He carried the heavy box of tools down the long driveway, back to his truck, still parked on the side of the road, where he left it. Opening the back hatch, he set the tool box down in the truck bed and opened it, checking out all the tools that were stored inside it.

“Not too bad.” He nodded, approving of the selection that was inside, then turned towards his first project for the place, the pathetic excuse and falling over the gate.

Digging his phone out of his pocket, Sy googled the closet hardware store, secured the toolbox in the back of his truck and hopped in behind the wheel and followed the directions into the town of Celina. He knew she told him to tell her if he needed anything while working on her property, but Sy had a sound enough savings, that he didn't mind spending his own money on bits and bobs. He browsed the aisles of the hardware store, picking up a couple of tools he would need and weren't in the box, then several boards of wood, to build a new gate.

“Thanks.” Sy muttered, nodding his head at the hardware store owner, collecting his things and packing them back into his truck.

Getting back to the farm, Sy parked close to the head of the driveway and got to work, tearing down the old gate and piled up the lumber to the side, out of the way. Without a power source, this far out, Sy relied on a trusty hand saw and the thick muscle of his arms to cut the fresh boards, still strongly smelling of the pine tree they were hewn from. He measured everything out, tucking the pencil behind his ear, as he leaned into the saw as he cut them to length and nailed them together, forming the new gate.

She watched him the whole time, from the upstairs window of her office. He was a hard and diligent worker. Taking painstaking time to double, or even triple, his measuring of the boards, before finally cutting them with a manual saw. In a matter of hours, he had the new gate made and started putting it up. Biting her lip and saving her work on her laptop, she went downstairs into her humble little kitchen, whipped up a couple of things, making some food and drinks, before texting him.

» If you're hungry, I made lunch.

Sy smiled at her text, putting the last screw into the gate and pushed it open with two fingers. Grinning and proud of his work, then turning back to his truck, he put all the tools away and cleaned up the rest of the mess he made, then drove through the gate, stopping long enough to get out and close the gate behind him, then went up and parked beside her own little car. She came out onto the porch, holding a plate of food and a tall glass of cold lemonade.

“Thank you.” He grinned at her, taking the plate and glass, and sitting down on the rickety porch swing, balancing the plate in his lap.

“You're welcome.” She mumbled back, so shy that she didn't meet his blue eyes.

Chuckling, Sy took a deep gulp of the lemonade, parched beyond belief after all the work he had done. He moaned as the cold tang washed over his tongue, refreshing him tremendously. “That is delicious, thank you.” He complimented her.

“Thank you.” She smiled, still fidgeting beside the swing. “I'll be inside, if you need me.” She said in a rush, and scuttled inside.

Sy tilted his head as the screen door slammed shut behind her. She was a curious person, always so nervous and shy, fidgeting and never meeting his eye. He wondered if his presence made her feel uncomfortable, he was wearing a red, DILLIGAF t-shirt, a tight pair of black jeans and boots. He was an imposing guy, with stacked muscle, which made his job in the Special Forces easier, and his head was shaved, while sporting a beard. Sy's whole presence came off as authoritative and commanding, it was a natural effect he had, it was one of the reasons he had advanced in the military and succeeded as a leader so well.

Sighing, he finished off his food and gulped down the rest of his lemonade, before getting up and carefully knocking on the wood of the door frame, peeking inside. The main door was half open and he could see into the foyer and the living room beyond that, the large rug on the hardwood floors and the mismatched couch and furniture of the living room, a flat screen tv mounted above the fireplace. He could just see around the corner into what looked like a dining room, seeing the edge of a table and a couple of chairs. She appeared from the other side of the door, looking up into his eyes for a moment, before dropping them down again.

“All finished?” She asked, quietly.

“I am, thank you.” Sy smiled at her, pressing his lips together. “It was really good, the best I've had so far, since coming home.” He told her, taking a step back as she opened the screen door, taking the dishes from him, their fingers brushing.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” He asked, gulping at the soft touch of her fingers.

“No, thank you.” She squeaked, drawing away from him. “I appreciate you fixing the gate.” She added, breathlessly.

“Of course, ma'am.” Sy smiled, chuckling softly. “I'll be back tomorrow and I'll have a look around the house and see what projects need more direct attention.” He explained to her, glancing around the porch.

“That sounds great.” She mumbled back, clearing her throat.

“I'll take my leave then.” Sy said, bowing his head to her, and heading back to his truck.

There was an infernal banging coming from outside, with a loud clattering that followed, all of it in a steady rhythm that was driving her crazy.

She was nuzzled into the warmth of her thick down blankets, in that heavenly position, where you found the perfect spot on the mattress to lay, and even the slightest movement will ruin it, in a millisecond. She growled into her pillow, still reluctant to move even the tiniest bit, but she couldn't take it anymore, and thrashed out of bed, in a fling of arms, legs, pillows and blankets.

“What in the world?” She huffed, pulling on an oversized hoodie and scrambled downstairs.

She froze, catching a glimpse out of the large bay window in her den, a huge male with a shaved head, and realized it was Sy. Gulping, she moved closer and watched him through the window. He wasn't in his red shirt and jeans this morning, but wore a blue tank top and a pair of basketball shorts, but still sporting his combat boots. He also had wireless earbuds in, head bumping to whatever he was listening to. Mustering some early morning courage and stepped over to the front door, pulling it open.

“Careful!” Sy called out, appearing from the other side of the house.

She looked down and saw a good amount of the boards of the porch were gone, and looked back up at him.

“Morning.” He smiled, one corner a bit higher in an amused way.

“Morning.” She squeaked back, burrowing into her hoodie a little bit.

“I thought I would start on the porch.” Sy said, looking over what he had already torn up.

“I-I can see..that.” She stammered, biting the inside corner of her lip, then looked behind her, to the coo-coo clock on the foyer wall.

It was seven in the morning, and Sy had already been on the farm for an hour and pulled up just about half of the wrap around porch. She looked back at him and was rather impressed by it, with a shy nod of her head, she went back inside and into the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker and got breakfast going. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, she glanced in the direction of the noise and followed it again.

“Would you like some breakfast or coffee?” She asked as Sy yanked up another warmed porch board, with his gloved hands, biceps bulging as he got it loose with a grunt.

Tossing the board into the growing pile, Sy wiped his sweaty face on his arms and turned to look up at her. “I would love some, if that's all right with you.” He answered, he only had a liquid breakfast of a tall black coffee from Starbucks as he left Austin for Celina.

“Pancakes, eggs and bacon, okay with you?” She asked, fidgeting.

“Yes, ma'am.” Sy nodded, smiling sweetly at her.

A smile twitched on her lips, before she turned on her bare feet and went back into the kitchen. She pulled open the refrigerator, pulling out the milk, eggs and bacon, before going into the pantry to grab the dry pancake ingredients. The coffee maker beeps as she whipped up the pancake batter and turned, pulling out two cups from the cabinet and setting up her own cup, before going back to the front porch.

“Coffee is ready, if you want to—come in—and get your cup ready.” She told him, shyly.

“Thank you.” Sy smiled at her, wiping his face again.

Pulling off his gloves, stuffing them into his back pocket, Sy entered the house, glancing around as he followed her into the kitchen. He found his cup by the coffee maker and smirked at it, it was a Texas Rodeo cup, a picture of a bucking horse on the background of the shape of Texas.

“I wasn't sure what you took in your coffee.” She commented as he stirred a single sugar into the cup and took a seat at the breakfast nook table.

“Either straight black, or with one sugar.” He replied, taking a sip of the steaming brown liquid, while he watched her finish mixing the pancake batter. “Depends on my mood.” He added, as she poured a bit of the thick batter into the sizzling hot skillet on the very old, blue and gas stove, that had to be made in the 1940's.

Easily. Sy thought, taking a deep gulp of his coffee.

“So, you live here alone?” He asked, lifting a brow at her and set it cup down on the table in front of him.

“I do.” She nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear, and flipped a couple of the pancakes.

“Does your family live nearby?”

She paused for a moment, her back stiffening at the mention of her family. “My mother passed away, when I was born.” She said, her voice strained. “I don't have any siblings and I don't know where my father is.” She explained, flipping the finished pancakes onto a plate by the stove and turned to the cardboard carton of eggs.

“How many would you like?” She asked, holding up a sooth, brown shelled egg.

“Three, please.” Sy replied, nodding his head to her. “Sunny side up.”

“What about your family?” She asked, cracking his eggs into the pan.

“No siblings and both of my parents are dead.” He answered her, leaning back in his chair. “My dad died of a heart attack, during my second deployment and my mom died of cancer, little over a year ago.” He explained, watching her baby his eggs.

“I'm so sorry.” She frowned, looking over her shoulder at him, with a look of pure sympathy, but no pity.

“It's all right.” Sy told her, his voice soft.

She fried the bacon with the eggs, then set the hot stack of pancakes and bacon on the table, setting Sy's plate of sunny side up eggs in front of him, with a container of syrup and a dish of butter, before handing him his fork. She sat down at the table, across from him, with her plate of two scrambled eggs, then took two pancakes and three pieces of bacon for herself, drizzling her pancakes with the maple syrup.

“Thank you, ma'am.” Sy smiled, before digging into his food.

“Lily.” She mumbled, staring at her untouched plate.

“Excuse me?” Sy frowned, looking up at her, fork posed at his mouth.

“Lily.” She replied, a little bit louder. “My name is Lily. You can call me, Lily.” She told him, meeting his eyes.

Sy grinned at her, lowering his fork and sitting up straighter. “All right then, Lily.” He nodded, loving the roll of her name off his tongue. “I'm Austin. But, everyone just calls me, Sy.”

Lily held her free hand out over their plates. “It's a pleasure.” She smiled at him, sweetly.

“Same.” Sy replied, gently taking her smooth and dainty hand in his big and calloused one.

Both of their faces warmed, before their hands pulled apart and they went back to finishing up their breakfast, having a polite and casual conversation as they did. With breakfast finished, Lily cleared away the plates and silverware, setting them in the sink to be washed later on, while Sy pulled his gloves back on and headed back out to finish pulling up the rest of the porch boards.

“Now that all the boards are pried up,” Sy explained as they ate lunch together in the kitchen. “I'll be able to start nailing down the new ones.” He told her, gulping down his glass of iced tea. “I'll put down the boards in front of the main door, so you can actually get out of the house, without having to be a hurdle jumper.” He laughed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Sy was true to his word, as he always was, he had all of the boards of the porch along the front of the house down, even though it took him until after sundown to pull it off. He sighed, as he drove the last nail in flush to the board. He stood with a groan, his knees and shoulders stiff and screaming from the hard work of the day. Gathering the strewn about tools, Sy put them back into the tool box and lugged that into the back of his truck.

“Lily.” He called out through the open screen door of the house, knocking gently on the door frame.

“Yes?” She called back, then appeared a moment later.

“I'm done for the day.” He told her, rubbing a hand over his bald head. “I'll be back tomorrow morning.”

“Bright and early, I'm sure, Captain.” She smiled at him.

Sy chuckled, he had told her a teeny bit about his career in the military, how he was a Captain and had spent more than ten years in the service, right out of high school, much to his parents' disappointment, since they wanted him to go to college. But, Sy wanted to serve his country, especially after the attacks in New York, causing him to enlist in early 2002.

“As always.” He grinned back, rubbing his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Good night, Ms. Lily.” He bowed his head to her and stepped back.

“Good night, Sy.” She nodded back to him.

Sy got into his truck and sighed heavily, as he started the engine. He was exhausted beyond belief, he scrubbed at his face as he drove down the long driveway, stopping to open and close the gate as he left the property. He only got a couple miles from Lily's, when he decided he was just too exhausted to drive the three hours to Austin. So, he turned around and headed for Celina, knowing there was a small motel there that he could rent a room from for the night. There was also the upside of staying in the motel, it was only thirty minutes away from Lily's place, which meant he could get there earlier and could work for a few more hours.

Lily came out onto the porch, when she heard the hammering on the east side of the house stop. Her bare feet gliding over the smooth new boards on the porch. Rounding the corner, she found Sy with his back against the side of the house, where he was currently prying the warped siding off of. She chuckled, realizing he had apparently stopped for a short break and fallen asleep. She moved closer to him, watching his face pinch and his head shake, like he was trying to wake himself up, but couldn't.

“Sy?” She called to him, softly, kneeling down beside him. “Hey, Sy.” She reached out to touch his shoulder. “Austin.” She said his name, gently.

She had no sooner touched his shoulder, than he jerked violently and lunged towards her. Lily yelped and scrambled backwards, away from him. Sy shook his head several times and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard, his entire body rigged.

“I'm sorry.” Sy pushed the words out of his throat. “I am so sorry, I didn't realize I fell asleep.” He said, sitting back where he had been. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” He looked over at her, his intense blue eyes scanning her for anything out of place, but only found her frightened and shaking.

“Lily.” He choked.

He had episodes like this, on and off over the last thirteen years, he had decked more than one of his men, who tried shaking him awake. He had even ended up choking one of his commanding officers, and needed his squad to pull him off and slap him back into consciousness. Sy had lost more than one friend and girlfriend over his episodes, nightmares and PTSD, he really didn't want to lose Lily over them.

“I'm-I'm f-fine.” She gulped, biting her lip and tried to calm herself down. “Are you?” She asked, pressing her back to the post that supported the porch roof.

Sy let out a hard breath, pressing a hand to his face and took a moment to settle his nerves, relieved that he hadn't hurt her. “I'm fine. I just didn't realize I fell asleep. I've been really tired lately.” He paused and dropped his hand.

“I've been tired for years.” He admitted out loud.

“You've been working from sun up to sun down, here for a month. That's without a day off, Sy.” She said, drawing her knees up to her chest. “You really should take a day off. When was the last time you had an actual day off?” She asked, studying him.

“What year is it?” He asked, chuckling at her.

“That's not good.” Lily said, shaking her head at him, then stood up. “All right, Syverson. You're officially off duty, effective now.”

“But, the siding?” He said, waving his hand over the unfinished siding on that side of the house.

“It can wait.” She told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, what am I supposed to do then?” He asked, heaving a sigh and standing up.

“Whatever you like, Sy.” She said, turning back towards the house.

“What if I'd like to finish the siding?” He asked, smirking at her, impishly.

Lily turned, lifting a brow at him and narrowing her eyes, making him chuckle at her, throwing his hands up in defeat. He followed her into the house and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. In the month since Sy had taken the job on Lily's property, they had gotten close and she had made him feel more at home than he had ever felt, anywhere in the world. Now, that she had made him take the day off, Sy had no idea what to do with it. Since he was a little boy, he was working hard, either on his parents' small farm or dealing with his deployment in the middle east.

He stepped back out on the porch, smirking to himself as he stood on solid porch boards that didn't squeak and creak under his weight. He still needed to stain the boards, but he planned on doing that after he removed all the siding from the house and put up fresh ones. His only missing plan with the siding was finding out if Lily wanted him to stain those too or if she wanted the house painted a particular color. But, he'd figure that out tomorrow, for now, he started out over the slice of land out front of the house. The grass was almost as tall as he was and he knew she didn't have a mower, not even an ancient push mower, so it would be something else he'd need to get his hands on to tame the wild jungle of sun bleached grass and weeds.

Humming to himself and taking a sip of his coffee, Sy walked around the porch, surveying the work he had done on that side, with two thirds of the siding pulled off, then continued to the back of the porch. The backyard was just as vast and wild as the front and sides of the house. Her land butted up against another farm that looked like they grew wheat. He noticed a slight movement on the thin trail that cut through the overgrowth and stepped off the porch to follow it, stopping several yards away from the boundary line that divided the two properties, finding Lily leaning on the rusted metal gate, her arm held out above it as a dapple-gray horse came trotting up to her, taking the apple out of her outstretched hand. She rubbed the mare's nose, smiling softly at it, and pulled out another apple out of the pouch of her hoodie.

Sy smiled as he watched her feed and pet that magnificent creature. “A friend of yours?” He asked, alerting her to his presence.

Lily blushed at him, trying to bite back her smile. “You can say that.” She replied, feeling the horse nudge her gently, and produced another apple. “Her name is Juniper.” She explained, patting the side of the horse's neck.

“She's beautiful.” Sy replied, but his eyes were on her.

“Isn't she.” Lily agreed, grinning at the horse, oblivious.

Sy moved closer to them, his shoulder brushing Lily's as he reached out to pet the mare, chuckling at Juniper's snort and head shake. “She hasn't been a mare for very long.” He pointed out.

“Nope.” Lily shook her head. “She was born a little more than three years ago. My neighbor, her owner, mostly deals in wheat and corn, but his daughter is working on becoming a champion barrel racer. So, he bought Juniper, when she was about a year old.”

“She looks in good shape for it.” He commented, checking out the rest of the horse. “Have you seen any of her shows?” He asked, looking back at Lily.

“Sadly, no.” She shook her head, shyly. “I do know she won her last one.” She added, smiling up at him. “It was her first win, in the ten or so shows she's competed in.”

Sy smiled at her, she seemed and sounded so proud of the horse's owner winning the competition. “We should go to her next one.” He suggested, lifting his brows at her.

“What?” Lily squeaked, looking at Sy like a frightened doe.

“Yeah, it will be a great day off for me.” He grinned at her, liking the idea. “I've never seen you leave the property, either.” He added, his brow creasing as he thought about it. “I've only seen you go far enough to get the mail, come to think of it.”

“I don't know.” She gulped, licking her lips nervously. “I've had a lot of work lately.” She stammered, fidgeting and rubbing her hands on her thighs.

“You give me guff for not taken a day off, and won't take one yourself.” He teased her, lightheartedly. “What's the worst that can happen?” He asked, leaning against the gate. “It's not like the world will blow up.”

“It might.” She mumbled, toeing at the sparse gravel under her feet.

Sy could tell she was anxious about leaving the house, he could understand that, the world was a shitty place, and he had seen a lot of that first hand. But, he blew it off, figuring it was just the stress of getting all her work done on time.

“I'll think about it.” Lily said, biting her lip and shyly scrunching up her body.

“Good.” He smiled, hopeful.

PART II

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mrs-march-ahs · 3 years

Text

Pre-Cult Kai Adderall Dealer

Summary- You meet your best friend’s brother, and pay for your Adderall with an unconventional payment, which lets you discover a lot more about him than you planned.

Warnings- Mummy kink, unprotected sex, drugs?? (Adderall mention??), adorable soft Kai Anderson

Last day of Kai week! I’m very happy to the nice response I got, I’m glad you enjoyed. I wasn’t sure if I was consistent enough to power through, but I’m very pleased that I managed! I still do have a few Kai things planned but not coming right away, I need to breathe!

I couldn’t not do something like this after so many people filled my requests with thirst for Pre-Cult Kai. I love this softie too, so here’s Pre-Cult (long brown hair!) Kai with a mummy kink.

Requests included-

hey can i request you for the kai week a fanfic about pre-cult kai and the reader dominates him. i’ve seen hcs about it on @tatestripedsweater account. btw i love ur work <3 -Yes girl, what she wrote was my request so we’re on the same page! Thank you!

i’m back with my pre-cult kai request 🥺 college student kai has a special place in my heart — this is super vague but something along the lines of being partners with him or helping him when he drops his books... 🥺 thank you !! – Started off with some fluff, hope you like it!

Congrats on 600 followers! Can I request something for Kai week? The reader and pre cult Brunette Kai, a fluffy smut. -Yes babey here you go:) Thank you!

hey i was wondering for the kai week if you could make a smut from when kai had brown hair (before the whole cult thing) and he’s a submissive to the reader because he has mommy issues. thank you and i loveee your account , congrats for 600 followers:)) – Yes @burningcowboydonkeypizza, I hope you like this! I definitely interpreted ‘mommy issues’ as mummy kink<3 Thank you very much!

----

Looking down at your phone walking through the college corridors, you try to pick a song to listen to, completely clueless of your surroundings. This becomes evident when you walk straight into another student, a taller boy with brown wavy hair like a cocker spaniel. He knocks the binder you were holding out of your hand and immediately bends down to pick it up. He hands it to you and straightens his lips into an awkward smile, you thank him and take it from him.

“Sorry I’m uh… clumsy… Mr Butterfingers”

“Don’t worry about it”, you smile and begin to walk away until he puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“Wait uh… are you Y/N? You’re friends with my sister, Winter, right?”. You smile and nod, not realising that you were talking to your best friend’s brother, not having met him before.

“So, does that mean you’re coming to her birthday party tomorr-”

“Wait… I do know you…”. You begin, the realisation of where you know him from slowly hitting you. “Do you uh… sell Adderall?”, you lower your voice, and he nods, smirking like he’s proud of himself.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N”, he says and walks away before you can say anything to him.

You give him a friendly smile and walk to your class, last one of the semester.

The next day when you loiter around Winter’s house, looking for Kai, you try to recollect his face from your meeting yesterday. You put your hand in the pocket of your jeans and for the fiftieth time check whether your 30 dollars is still there. Winter walks over to you breaks you out of your trance, handing you a drink, which you take and swirl around, deep in thought.

“Don’t worry, I poured it for you”, she says reassuringly before cheering the beer with you. The both of you take a drink before you look over her shoulder at the door opening, hoping it’s Kai. But much to your disappointment, it’s your friend Alex. Winter notices the way you watch the door and wriggles her eyebrows.

“You excited for Alex to come?”. You snap out of your deep thought and look at her.

“No… actually I’m looking for your brother… Kai”

“Why would he come through the door? He lives here”, she laughs. “He’s probably in the basement like the gremlin he is”

When Winter motions with her hand to the basement, you look over at the door and take a deep breath, trying to gain the confidence to talk to him.

“I’m gonna go and welcome-”

“Yeah, yeah have fun Winnie”, you say not even realising how rude you sound. Winter rolls her eyes when she sees you hesitantly walk up to the basement door, realising you’re interested in her nerdy-ass brother. Over the loud sound of the music blasting through the speaks and slightly shaking the house, you didn’t expect Kai to hear your knocking, no matter how hard. You break your wrist trying to pound at the door, but still to not reply. But the second you put your hand over the handle to walk in, you feel a large hand on your shoulder turning you around.

“What are you doing?”. Kai barks, clearly protective of his room. You take your money out of your pocket and put it in his hand, and he nods slowly, understanding you want.

He opens the door to the basement and takes your hand, walking in with you. You walk down the stairs with him and exhale in relief at the loud music gradually getting more and more quiet, your heart temporarily returning to a normal pace. Kai walks over to his sofa and drops down, putting his hands in his pockets trying to find his Adderall. You politely sit next to him and immediately notice the effect your close presence has on him, as he awkwardly sits up and clears his throat, now searching his pockets a little more nervously.

“Uh it’s uh… where is it…”. Kai laughs nervously and leans over to his bedside table by the couch. When he does so, you take a not-so-sneaky look at the way his shirt rises up showing off the bottom of his toned back and his Calvins. He takes out a bottle of Adderall out of the top drawer, before opening his fist to look at the money you gave him. He slides the notes around in his hand before looking at you.

“Thirty dollars? That’s not gonna get you a full bottle”. He laughs, and you inch in closer to him and whisper seductively.

“Maybe we can work something else out”

His eyes widen a little and he flickers down at your shirt, peeking at your boobs through it. You straddle his lap and he freezes a little, unsure what to do and clearly not very experienced. You find his slight innocence endearing and kiss him, straight away making out with him and getting aroused at how hesitantly he kisses you back. Though you’re not usually dominant, you take this opportunity to test it out, especially with such an intimidating-looking man. If you can dominate him, you could dominate anybody.

When he puts his hands on your thighs and rubs them up and down, you moan into his mouth, encouraging him to feel you more, helping him by sliding his hands around your thighs and slowly getting to your ass. His hands softly slide on your ass, feeling the shape, but when he gives your cheeks a soft squeeze, you initiate your dominance and grab hold of them. You pull away and put his hands on either side of his shoulders, lining up with the back of the couch. His eyes widen at your sudden movement and he looks at you completely baffled.

“Keep your hands to yourself”

He nods quickly and you run your fingers down his chest and to his pants, which are looking tighter than ever before. Unzipping his pants makes Kai gasp quietly and you shuffle them down, Kai lifting his body up a little to make it easier, completely compliant to your actions. You look at his shaft through his boxers and exhale in satisfaction at how hard he is. You look him in his deep brown lustful eyes, before getting off him and swiftly dropping down to your knees. Kai puts his hand flat on the couch by each side and sucks in a quivering breath, trying to not put you off with the sheer excitement he’s feeling. You put your hands on his thighs and squeeze them, before leaning in and biting the band on his underwear and pulling them down with your teeth, letting his dick spring up and practically pulsate before your eyes. Kai bites his lip and watches you eagerly while you lick up his dick once.

He holds in a moan and bites on his lip harder. Watching him melt in front of you with even the minimal contact sends a rush of arousal down to your pussy, and itching to tease him more, you wrap your lips around the tip of his dick and suckle on him. Kai moans softly and when you look up at him, sucking and licking on him rhythmically, he whines a little. You refuse to inch down even a bit further down his cock, and suck his tip up and down as much as you can.

Kai breathes heavily and moans at the teasing and reaches one hand to your head, making you immediately push it back down. You push his hands by his side and return your own to the same place on his thighs, this time, holding them closer to his crotch and grasping tighter. He throws his head back and whines at the pleasure and digs his fingers into the sofa more, attempting to thrust up into your mouth. You give him a stern look when he does so but he desperately puts both hands through your hair, wanting to push you down further, but instead making you remove your mouth from him completely. He looks at you with a desperate look and opens his mouth ready to beg when you stand up. He looks at you worried, hoping you won’t leave, but becomes relived when you begin taking your pants off.

“You liked that?”

He nods, sucking his bottom lip in, watching you take your pants and underwear off.

“You should’ve kept your hands to yourself, I wouldn’t have stopped”

You straddle his lap and come closer to him, pushing his dick up against his stomach.

“Yes ma’am”

You smirk at the nickname and lift yourself up, grabbing his dick and rubbing it up and down your soaking slit, enjoying the sight of Kai desperate for more but too proud to beg. For now.

“Hm?”. You prompt him, wanting to hear his whining again. He puts his hands on your hips and moves them with you as you begin to grind against his rock-hard cock, almost putting the tip in. You lean in and brush your lips against his, teasing him into wanting to kiss before moving your lips to his neck. You place a few gentle kisses behind his ear, which forces a sweet whine out of him that he tries to hide. It echoes against your ear and you can’t help yourself anymore, so you sink down on his cock right down to the bottom. Kai hisses through his teeth and lays his head back on the sofa, giving into your dominance completely.

You wrap your hands around his neck and stay close to him.

“Is this what you want? Cuddles?”, you say rhetorically.

“No… please…”

“Please what baby?”

“Please… ride me”. Kai’s hands on your hips begin to move you a little, and you finally give him what he begs for, pushing yourself up with your hands on his shoulders before slamming back down. Kai drools at the view of you riding him, your boobs bouncing with every movement and hypnotizing him, making him stare without even realizing.

Even with you half naked jumping on his cock, he still seemed a little tense and shy, but you wanted him to be completely comfortable and relaxed with you. You take his hand off your hip and put it on your boob, making him moan and cup it. With every harsher movement hitting your cervix, you clench around him and cry out in pleasure, encouraging him to thrust up faster, wanting to make you feel as good as possible. He squeezes and kneads your tit, engulfed in the feeling of having you in front of him to play with.

As you begin approaching closer to your orgasm, you unintentionally clench around him more and more often, making Kai pant and moan, finally comfortable enough to truly let go. And clearly, he does.

“Mummy!”, he whines out, no longer caring about how loud he’s being, until the new nickname makes you look at him. His mouth creeps open when he realizes that although his greatest fantasy just came true, he might have ruined it by going too far. He pulls you closer by your waist and awkwardly tries to apologize.

“Uh I’m sorry… it… it just… slipped out-”

“Don’t be”, you reassure him and give him a kiss, mumbling hotly against his lips. “I like it”

You put your hands back on his shoulder and give him a cheeky wink before riding him faster, jumping up and plunging back down onto his cock, going deeper but hitting the same powerful angle every time. Kai lets out a long whine when he feels you going in deeper, needing one last thing before letting go.

“Cum for mummy”

The second your dominant voice hits Kai, it sends him into a powerful orgasm, releasing his load and groaning when you don’t stop, not giving him a break. He fills the room with whimpers of overstimulation as you continue to ride him, your pussy clenching and sucking every last drop he has to offer.

“Stop hnnnnng too much”, he groans out, and pulls you into a hug to stop you from moving. He keeps his hands tightly wrapped around you. Though slightly taken aback, you comply to the affection and rest your head on Kai’s shoulder, shuffling your legs as close to him as possible as you stay straddling him. Kai places a loving kiss on your shoulder and mumbles against your skin.

“Stay like this… for just a second longer”

“No problem, sweetheart”, you smile and run your fingers back and forth on his back and neck. “So… can I have the Adderall bottle?”, you laugh.

“You can have my car”

taglist:)

@milly-louise @amourtentiaa @kitwalker02 @tatestripedsweater @therenlover @maria-akira @tatesimper @thxc0untessesgl0ve @mossybank @ahsxual @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan @kitwalkerangel @kitisagoldenretrieverboy

#american horror story #ahs #american horror story cult #ahs cult #kai anderson #kai anderson x #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson imagine #kai anderson smut #kai anderson fanfiction #evan peters #evan peters character #ahs smut #american horror story smut #mummy kink #kai week

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jjmaybud · 3 years

Text

bring her home to dad | rafe cameron

summary: BJ’s every parent’s nightmare and rafe brings her home to ward.

pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!oc, platonic!sarah cameron x fem!oc, platonic!wheezie cameron x fem!oc.

word count: 5.17k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, angst, ward cameron.

author’s note: i’ve had this idea for a while and it was originally going to be a reader, but i have a lot of ideas for this oc and rafe that may or may not be a coherent story. i don’t know, we’ll see where it goes. this is an au where there isn’t any treasure hunt but like rafe still does coke and dropped out of college and sarah and john b end up dating. no season 2 spoilers! Also, the house they use in the show for Tanneyhill (it’s real name is Lowndes Grove) is actually so beautiful omg you can rent it for weddings!

BJ Bentley was in the passenger seat of her boyfriend’s truck on her way to his house for the first time. Though she’d been in a relationship with Rafe Cameron for the past few months, she understood the reservation he had to take her to meet his father. The dark tattoos all along her sun kissed skin and the style of her clothes definitely scared every one of her partner’s parents. It was especially worse when their parents were hard on them, and they tried everything to live up to their expectations. There were times when someone she was interested in brought her home just to scare their parents when they weren’t interested in her as well. It wasn’t like that with Rafe. For one, he was completely freaking out in the driver’s seat next to her as he drove to his house. And two, he told her from the beginning that he had to be in love with her to bring her home to Ward Cameron.

Well, he was in love with her. And she loved him, too. That’s why she was completely calm in the passenger seat as she waited patiently to pull up to the historic house. Rafe’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he was hyper aware of the world around him. Quick hits on the brake and too sharp of turns were a clear indication of his nervousness. BJ reached across the center console to take hold of his right hand. He gave it up to her with little hesitation, and she intertwined their fingers while bringing the back of his hand to her lips. The soft kiss released a bit of tension in his shoulders.

“We don’t have to do this today,” she said against his hand. He immediately shook his head at the idea.

He said, “No, I already told him you were coming today. He’s got Rose making her special meatloaf for the occasion.”

BJ placed their hands down on the console and smiled.

“I love meatloaf.”

He nodded, his mind still somewhere else, and stated, “I know. I told her.”

Rafe stopped the truck at a stop sign. With no one behind them, BJ reached her free hand up to his cheek and turned his head towards her, forcing him to meet her eyes. She smiled softly when he leaned into the palm of her hand.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise. I’ve dealt with plenty of parental disappointment. He might be a little harder on you, but he’ll let it go eventually.”

He smiled and kissed the palm of her hand before turning back to the road. As he pulled forward from the stop sign, she placed her outreached hand on his forearm to run her fingers up and down the prominent vein.

He said, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

BJ’s hand stilled at his words, and she stared at the side of his face as she tried to think of any other reason he’d be so nervous.

“I don’t want him to scare you off,” he added as he avoided meeting her eye.

Her lip jutted out as she cooed, “Aw, Honey Bunch,” his eyes rolled and lip turned up at the pet name, “you don’t have to worry about him scaring me off. You’ve had plenty of chances to do that.”

Rafe laughed mockingly and reached over to squeeze her thigh. She laughed loudly as she tried to pull his hand off of her. When she managed to wrench his hand away from her, she reached over and poked his side which only resulted in his hand gripping her thigh again.

“Rafe Cameron,” she said in a firm tone, making him laugh. “If you don’t stop, I will knock you the fuck out.”

He didn’t stop. It took him almost side swiping someone’s car for him to let go of her and return his hand to the steering wheel.

“That’s what I thought,” BJ quipped but screeched and lifted her leg away from him as he pretended to reach for her thigh again.

The rest of the ride was silent aside from the music playing from the radio. Eventually, the sound of the turn signal interrupted the melodies of the song as they waited for the car in the other lane to pass to turn left into Tanneyhill. Trees blocked the view of the house from the gate, but she could see peaks of a white house with many windows. As they drove up the driveway and passed the trees, she could see the beautiful house in it’s full glory. The house itself was beautiful on it’s own, but the surrounding view made it stunning. She could see the expanse of the water over to the left while an expansive yard of trees veered to the right.

“Home sweet home,” Rafe muttered as he pulled into a parking spot next to someone’s car. He turned the engine off and unbuckled his seat belt but didn’t make a move to get out. BJ unbuckled her own seat belt and waited. She watched as he took a couple of deep breaths before turning to meet her eye. Her lips turned up in an encouraging smile. She leaned forward over the console enticing him to do the same. Their lips met in a soft peck and met a few times more before pulling away for good.

The couple got out of the truck at the same time and met at the back. BJ let Rafe stair up at the house before reaching her hand out for him to hold. He huffed a heavy sigh before taking her hand in his. On their way to the front door, BJ stopped walking. If he didn’t have her hand in his, he probably would have kept going. He stopped, their hands extended, and watched her eyes widen.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Her eyes moved from the house to him, and she said, “I’m going to meet Wheezie!”

Rafe released a relieved sigh as he let his head fall back with his eyes closed. The hat on his head nearly fell off as it’s bill hit the back of his neck. BJ laughed as she stepped closer to her.

“Don’t do that to me,” Rafe mumbled as he let her pull him along. When they got closer to his front door, he took the lead. He led her past the front room and into the main part of the house. They took a few turns before reaching a decent sized kitchen. As an old house meant to be preserved, it lacked the open floor plan most modern day houses choose to do. While some rooms were spacious, it felt very choppy as they moved through the house. Even the kitchen was cut off from the dining area. The only person in the kitchen was a blonde woman who was definitely not Sarah Cameron or Wheezie.

“Oh, hello!” The woman greeted as she worked on cleaning off the counters. She stopped at the sight of them and tossed the washcloth into the sink. Her eyes widened once she got a better look at the girl standing next to Rafe, but BJ took it in stride as she let go of Rafe’s hand to go shake hers.

Rafe spoke up from behind BJ, “Rose, this is BJ. BJ, this is my stepmom, Rose.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Rose. I heard you’re making meatloaf! It already smells amazing,” BJ stated as she shook the woman’s hand. She watched Rose take in the tattoos on the back of her hand and the chain hanging on one side of her skirt, but she pretended not to notice as Rose fixed a genuine smile on her face.

“It’s nice to meet you, too! Rafe mentioned meatloaf was your favorite, so Ward asked me to make my special recipe.”

“Is there anything Rafe and I can do to help?” BJ offered. Rafe started to speak from behind her, but Rose beat him to it.

“Actually, the table still needs to be set, if you don’t mind?”

BJ shook her head and said, “Not at all.” She turned around to Rafe. “You know how to set the table, right?”

Rafe huffed and nodded his head. He turned to the left and led her into the dining room where a long, rectangular table that seats eight people took up one side of the room and a smaller, circular table that seats four people took up the other. He stepped over to the china cabinet and opened both of the doors.

“I can start with the glasses while you get the plates?” Rafe suggested as he looked at her. She nodded and walked over to him. He pointed at a specific set of plates before grabbing the glasses on the higher shelf. A place mat was already placed in front of each seat that was to be used. BJ started on one side as Rafe started on the other. They met at the head of the table, and BJ stared up at Rafe as he refused to move out of the way.

She wasn’t much shorter than him normally, but she was almost nose to nose to him with her boots on. The amused smile on his lips and the quirk of his eyebrow tempted her to do something about him being in her way. With a playful tint in the corner of her eye, she stood on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his lips. His hand found her hip as their kiss lasted longer than necessary. When she pulled away and fell back flat on her feet, Rafe hummed and nodded his head. He patted her hip and stepped out of her way.

“You may pass,” he said, making BJ laugh. The rest of her task went without fail before the two of them placed the silverware out: BJ was in charge of the spoons while Rafe put out the forks and knives. The sound of a man’s voice interrupted the peaceful silence that laid over the air.

“Alright, I got the ice and another bottle just in case. I saw Rafe’s truck outside. Have you already met her?” The man stated as the couple saw him approach the island that Rose was standing next to.

Rose nodded, walked towards her husband, and said, “Yes, I did. They’re setting the table now.”

Ward tried to turn to look at where they were standing, but Rose grabbed the front of his blazer and pretended to fix it while she whispered to him. BJ puffed out a silent laugh as she looked at Rafe.

She whispered, “Very subtle.”

Rafe only had the energy to chuckle once as he watched the two in the kitchen. BJ studied the couple and watched Ward’s facial expressions to gauge his reaction. She noticed the exact moment Rose told him about her...appearance. His head tilted towards his wife in a quick motion to look in her eyes. Rose scolded him swiftly, and Ward fixed his face into a stoic expression. BJ could feel her boyfriend tense from beside her as she watched Ward look to the ground and nod at whatever his wife said.

BJ took the lead, grabbed Rafe’s hand, and pulled him into the kitchen. Rafe tugged on her hand to keep her from intruding on his dad and stepmom’s conversation, but BJ went through this too many times to know it was easier to rip the bandage off right away.

“Hi, you must be Ward! I’m BJ Bentley,” she introduced herself, extending her hand once again. Though he was warned, Rafe’s father appeared to still be surprised at the sight of her. He took it in stride regardless. His eyebrows shot up in delight and a charming smile crossed his face as he reached his own hand out.

Ward greeted, “Ah, nice to meet you, BJ. I have to say I was surprised to hear Rafe had a girlfriend, let alone that he was bringing her home to meet us.”

“Dad,” Rafe said as Rose called her husband’s name in warning.

“Honestly, I was surprised, too,” BJ confessed. “Didn’t think Rafe was the girlfriend type.”

The timer on the oven went off to interrupt the tense conversation. Rose hurried around the island to pull the door open. She used a cooking thermometer to check the temperature inside the meatloaf.

“It’s done. Rafe, can you go upstairs to get your sisters?” Rose asked.

Rafe made sure BJ was okay before reluctantly heading out of the kitchen to the stairs she’d seen on the way inside. She watched him until he disappeared out of the room and turned back to his parents. The brunette tucked her hair behind her ear as she caught Ward staring at the tattoos on her thighs sticking out under her skirt with a disapproving purse of his lips. She turned to Rose, the safer of the two, and offered her help.

“I can take the potatoes to the table if you’d like,” BJ offered as Rose sliced into the meatloaf and placed it onto a large plate. The potatoes were on a similar plate cut into chunks and seasoned so well that BJ’s stomach grumbled at the smell.

Rose smiled and said, “That would be great. Thank you.”

BJ returned the smile and grabbed the plate. Once she reached the table, she placed the potatoes in the center with enough room for the meatloaf. Ward followed her into the room and motioned to the side of the table with only two seats set.

“Rafe sits on this side next to me. Feel free to sit next to him,” Ward said. BJ nodded and stepped around Ward; she noticed then they were about the same height. Since Ward hadn’t pulled his chair out, BJ thought it best to wait to be seated. Her mouth didn’t agree to the plan.

“Your home is very beautiful. It has a lot of history behind it, right?” She inquired as Rose brought in the meatloaf before returning to the kitchen, probably for the drinks.

Ward’s head tilted in interest as he answered, “That’s right. People don’t usually know that.”

“I did a paper on Denmark Tanney in college. As you must know, he was the only person to survive the wreck of the Royal Merchant.”

A light lit up behind Ward’s eyes at the mention of the Royal Merchant. She mentioned offhandedly one day while hanging out with Rafe that she did a paper on the man who built his house after he told her he lived in Tanneyhill. He told her how much his dad loved the house and its history, so she knew she could use that to get on Ward’s good side. She wasn’t worried about whether the Cameron’s liked her, especially not Ward, but she wanted there to be mutual respect between them. From what Rafe has said about his father, she knew she would never like him. But as Rafe’s father, she had a level of respect for him that she wanted to be returned. No matter how the man treated him, Rafe loved Ward and looked up to him. She had to respect that.

“Of course,” Ward replied, his words more genuine than the other times he’s spoken. “It’s what drew me to the house in the first place. Tell me did your research take you to the information about the gold he was able to get off of the Royal Merchant?”

Rose brought in a pitcher of iced tea as well as a cup of scotch on the rocks for Ward. She started to pour a glass of tea for herself as she listened to their conversation.

“Yes, and no one has ever been able to find it. He had letters to his son that a lot of people have picked apart trying to find out where he hid it, but no one’s figured it out.”

“Ugh, dad, please tell me you haven’t bored BJ with your stories about the Royal Merchant,” Sarah Cameron stated as she came into the kitchen. She sent BJ a smile and a wink as she walked to her seat, leaving the middle one between her and Rose empty. Rafe followed in shortly after.

Ward laughed as he shook his head. “Of course not, Sarah. BJ brought it up.”

Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise and put her hands up in surrender. Rafe came to stand next to his girlfriend. Ward and Rose looked at him expectantly.

“Wheezie’s on her way down,” he stated before reaching over to pull out BJ’s seat. She smiled at the gesture as she stepped out of the way.

“Wow, Rafe has manners?” Sarah asked, sarcasm dripping from her words as she sat down. Rafe glared at his sister as BJ stepped in front of the seat. He pushed in her seat as she sat down. She mumbled her gratitude as he sat down next to her. Rose and Ward sat down after the kids, and Rafe took it upon himself to pour himself a glass of iced tea. He offered the pitcher to BJ, and she took it graciously.

The sound of loud steps interrupted the short silence, and a young, teenage girl wearing a bright pink tutu and a sequined, long sleeve shirt. BJ’s eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to Rafe as she pressed her lips together to contain her laugh. Rafe placed his elbow on the table and covered his mouth to hide his smile. From what Rafe told her about his youngest sister, the tutu was out of character for her.

Sarah gasped and said, “Love the tutu, Wheeze.”

“Wheezie, what are you wearing?” Rose asked as the girl sat down next to her. BJ turned back to watch the scene unfold in front of her. Wheezie smiled at her before turning to her stepmom.

Wheezie said with a shrug, “Wanted to try something new.”

“Wheezie, we have a guest. Go upstairs and change,” Ward demanded as he tilted his head back to stare at her down his nose.

“I think Wheezie has a right to dress however she wants,” Rafe said, finally lowering his hand away from his face.

Sarah added, “Yeah, dad, we should let her express herself.”

BJ could see what her boyfriend and his sisters were doing. Wheezie was dressed in an out-of-character outfit to make her brother’s girlfriend feel comfortable wearing the clothes that the older generation deemed unacceptable. Rafe and Sarah were helping coax their parents into understanding why she wore the clothes she did. It warmed her heart to see it. Wheezie didn’t know who she was, they’d never met before, but she was doing this because she loved her brother. Sarah and BJ had known of each other before she started dating Rafe because they went to the same parties.

“Also,” BJ spoke up, “I really don’t mind. I think you rock the tutu, Wheezie, and those sequins really bring out your eyes.”

“Thank you, BJ,” Wheezie said before she turned to her father expectantly. Everyone turned to him to see his reaction. Ward Cameron sighed as he stared at his younger daughter.

“Fine.”

***

“So, BJ, what are you studying in college?” Ward asked as he sipped on his second glass of scotch. The men finished their plates as well as Sarah while the rest of them were still working on finishing their potatoes and little bit of meatloaf. BJ complimented Rose on her recipe after the first bite once she tasted the burst of flavor on her tongue. She talked to Wheezie about a new movie that was coming out. Apparently it was a part of a series that the young girl really liked, so she told BJ the synopsis of the first movie and invited her to come over to watch the first two movies together. Most of dinner was Rose and Ward alternating asking BJ questions about herself or Sarah telling everyone what she’d been up to for the day and what she was planning to do in the next couple.

BJ took her time swallowing the potato she’d been chewing and answered, “Actually, I finished college last year.”

Ward and Rose’s attention perked at the sound of that.

Rose asked, “I thought you said you were the same age as Rafe?”

“She is,” Rafe answered. “She finished her Bachelor’s degree in business, right?”

He looked to her for confirmation. She nodded.

“I started taking a lot of my general education credits my junior year of high school and took more business centered classes in the summer,” BJ said, turning to Ward and Rose. “By the time I graduated high school, I was a junior in college.”

Ward appeared to be impressed with what he was hearing and asked, “So, are you working now or have you decided to do something else?”

“I am. I work with my mother in her real estate investment business. I’ve always been around the office, even interned there the summer after high school graduation, and that’s how I knew I wanted to have a career in business.”

“I have to admit that’s pretty impressive,” Ward said and stared at his son. “I wish Rafe had as much drive as you do.”

BJ looked to Rafe to see him stare into the bottom of his glass that only had chunks of ice at the bottom. She could tell by the pout of his lips and his slouched shoulders that the comment hit a little too hard. Without allowing the others to notice, she reached under the table to place her hand over his on his lap.

“Rafe has plenty of drive,” BJ defended. “He’s just got to figure out where he wants to put that energy. Calculated energy is better than wasted energy.”

Ward only hummed in response. She finished her plate without any interruption. Rafe and Sarah grabbed everyone’s empty dishes. BJ helped Rafe stack all of the plates before Ward asked Wheezie to show their guest around the house.

“Yeah, BJ, I’ll show you Rafe’s room first since you’ll probably spend a lot of time there,” Wheezie said as she pushed her chair out to stand up.

Rafe stepped back into the room and scolded her, “Wheeze. Shut. Up.”

BJ laughed and stood up to follow after Wheezie. She patted Rafe’s shoulder as she passed him. Wheezie talked the entire time as she showed the older girl every room in the house. Most of the stories included embarrassing stories about Rafe.

“The rug right here?” Wheezie pointed out as they stood in the hall leading to the stair and outside of Rafe’s room. “Rafe tripped over it running out of his room and almost busted his chin going down the stairs. Luckily he stopped at the turn or he would’ve broken his arm.”

BJ shook her head and asked, “When was this?”

“Last week.”

The two giggled at the news, and Wheezie took her up another set of stairs. BJ followed her into a room that was clearly hers. It was a typical young teenager room with a few posters and brighter, mismatched colors.

“The tour is now over, please don’t forget to tip your guide and remember to visit again,” Wheezie said in a highly comical, animated voice. She worked on taking off the tutu as BJ looked around the room. It wasn’t a big room, but it was large enough to hold everything her heart desired.

“Is she your favorite artist?” BJ asked, pointing to a small poster of Taylor Swift next to some, what BJ could assume were, lyrics.

“Of course, she’s a lyrical genius,” Wheezie said, and BJ could tell how much the girl looked up to the artist by her voice. “Who’s your favorite artist?”

A sheepish smile was brought to her lips and turned to Wheezie. The youngest Cameron was sitting on her bed against her pillows, and BJ went to sit on the edge near her.

BJ said, “So, this may come as a shock, but I love Whitney Houston.”

Wheezie’s head tilted forward in surprise as her eyes widened. BJ laughed. The former girl looked down at BJ’s clothes and tattoos before looking back up to her with narrowed eyes.

“There’s no way. You definitely listen to classic rock like Nirvana,” Wheezie said.

“Okay, Nirvana is definitely not classic rock. Whoever told you that lied to you. And yes, despite my looks, Whitney Houston just hits the spot.”

Wheezie laughed and said, “I can’t wait to tell Rafe.”

“Hah,” BJ mocked and hit the girl lightly on the leg, “he already knows.” She hopped off the bed and headed for the door. “I’m going to go find him. I just take the stairs all the way down right?”

The only response she received was a nod before leaving the room. BJ could hear slightly raised voices drifting up the stairs as she started down them. She could hear Rafe’s voice but couldn’t make out any of his words.

Then, clear as day, she heard Ward’s voice, “I don’t care, Rafe! Think about what people will say when they see you with her. What they will say about our family.”

“You didn’t say this to Sarah when she brought John B home,” Rafe countered.

“John B doesn’t dress like she does and doesn’t have tattoos up and down his arms! I don’t care if you love her, you-”

Suddenly, it was quiet as BJ stepped on a particularly creaky stair. Not that she was quiet on her way down, but they didn’t hear her over their yelling. As she came down, she saw Rafe, Ward, and Rose through the doorway into the kitchen standing in awkward silence as they waited for her.

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” BJ said as she walked towards the three of them.

Rafe started to talk, “BJ, I’m sorry-”

BJ held up a hand to stop him.

“You don’t have to apologise, Rafe. It’s not the first time I’ve walked in on an awkward conversation with my boyfriend’s parents. I just hoped your father had enough respect to talk to me about it.”

She smiled a sickeningly sweet smile as she met Ward’s eyes. Rafe said her name and offered for them to leave.

“And I wish my son had enough respect not to bring you home,” Ward said as he took a long drink of his scotch.

BJ’s smile didn’t falter at his words as Rose sharply said his name.

“You know, Ward, a person can always change their clothes,” BJ informed the older man and motioned to her own clothes. “Hell, on a normal day, I don’t typically wear this. I only wore it now so you could see the ‘worst’ of it and learn to get over it. I understand your reservations on tattoos. It’s not everyone’s preference. I, for one,” BJ stepped over to Rafe and motioned to his bare arm, “love the blank canvas that is your son.” Rafe muttered an “oh, my god” at her words. “But you should never judge someone’s character for what they decide to do with their bodies. It’s their actions you have to pay attention to.

“Your actions, specifically, have told me that you are a very insecure man who tries to keep the image of his perfect family intact to hide the fact that he feels like an imposter in the life he’s created for himself.” Ward stood up straighter and set his glass down forcefully. Rose put her hand on his chest to stop him from taking a step towards BJ. “The only reason I’m saying this to you is because, although I do not like you one bit, I have respect for you. I know who you are, Ward Cameron. Started on the other side of Outer Banks and, through hard work and sacrifice, you made it to Figure Eight. You raised a beautiful family despite hardly being there for them emotionally. Anyone can respect someone who has managed to do that for themselves.”

Ward scoffed and interrupted BJ’s tangent, “I let you into my home, and you decide to speak to me like this in the name of respect? My actions have told you all of this about my character? Through one dinner?”

BJ shrugged and simply said, “I minored in psychology. And I’m sorry if you find what I’ve said to be disrespectful. I found you talking about me without me present to be disrespectful. I love your son whether you like me or not and as long as he still feels the same way, we’ll have to treat each other with mutual respect.”

Rafe’s hand slipped into hers. Through their interlaced fingers BJ felt his grip tighten as he stood up to his father. With her other hand, she reached out for a handshake. Ward stared down at her hand for a moment before looking at Rafe. Another squeeze on her hand. Ward and BJ locked eyes. He sighed and reached out his hand. A firm handshake, and the two were on their way with Rafe saying over his shoulder he might be back later.

Her boyfriend practically dragged her out of the house and to his truck. The sun was already set, so the lights around the house were the only thing to light their way to Rafe’s truck. The overhead lights inside turned on and off as they got in. The dash light lit up Rafe’s features as he turned the ignition over to start the engine. BJ watched as he sighed heavily and fell back against his seat, and she reached over to grab his hand again.

“I almost shit myself when you called him insecure,” Rafe confessed, making her laugh out loud. “I thought he was going to kill us both.”

BJ leaned over the console and said, “But he didn’t.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head without lifting it to look at her. Pieces of his hair fell onto his forehead, and she smiled at him as she studied his face. A sweat had broken out on his face and neck, but it was slowly drying in the cool air of the truck’s air conditioning.

“No, he didn’t.” BJ watched his soft lips as he spoke.

“Now, the worst is over.”

He nodded. “It is.”

BJ’s free hand reached up to the back of Rafe’s head and pulled his face towards hers. Rafe didn’t put up any fight as he leaned into the kiss. She pulled away with a sigh, and the boy moved so he could comfortably lean against the console as she played with the hairs at the back of his head.

“Wheezie’s cool,” BJ admitted. “She told me a lot of embarrassing stories about you.” Rafe rolled his eyes. “Something about you and a rug followed by a small tumble down the stairs.”

Rafe shook his head and said, “I have just as many embarrassing stories of her.”

BJ smiled.

“I can’t wait to hear them.”

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