#my guy talks AND gets to fuck your immaculate darling??

[bennidraws]

"teach an old dog new tricks" (ao3)

compilation of some of the insanely hot scenes that @velkyr 's Rosio/Dusk fic has to offer 😏

if you fancy two hot tieflings with Issues casually fucking through them to get their respective fixes, this is a smut for you! containing the hottest banter of two Brats Of The Year, old man subbing and delicious gender fuckery ✨

(full uncensored ver of the pic)

[saltpepperbeard]

Poison into Positivity: A List of What I Liked in OFMD S2

Hello hello everyone! Things have been a little rough around here. Even away from the more heated takes, I've still seen a few "down in the dumps" murmurs. To which, I'm giving y'all big hugs, but also offering up some little bits of warmth! I wanted to share quite a few bullets of the things I enjoyed about this season. Maybe it'll serve as a reminder, or maybe it'll just serve as a chaotic, silly little read as per usual PFFF.

But I invite you to read along, and even add some of your own points should you feel inclined! Also, this might not even be my full list; these are just the ones that came to me quickly/off the top of my head. Still, let's dive on down like a fantastical, dazzling goldfish, shall we?

All the callbacks/parallels. My goodness. When I tell you I'm a SLUT for metaphors/parallels/callbacks/etc etc. Seeing so many things and being able to just *Leonardo Dicaprio pointing meme.* I know people might not share that same opinion because some might view it to be excessive, but I personally LOVED being able to point at my screen and be like "oH EYYYYYYY!!!" Maybe because it makes for such immaculate gifset/meta material <3 SJKJDLHSK

The costuming and makeup. WHEN THEY TALKED AT ECCC ABOUT EVERYONE GETTING HOTTER, THEY WERE NOT KIDDING LMAO. EVERYONE LOOKED SO, SO GOOD. and listen, i am on my knees begging for them to give ed with his hair up back to us. i need Her back,,,ALSO, SOMETHING SOMETHING COMPLICATED EMOTIONS TOWARDS STEDE'S LATTER HALF LOOK, BUT ALSO...GOD DAMN, MR. DARBY,,,,,,

Speaking of Mr. Darby, the acting in this season. The ACTTTINNNGG. Everyone acted their ASSES off. Everyone put their entire piratussies into this season. Though, I'm PARTICULARLY impressed with Taika and Rhys, because again with their "oh we're comedians lol so idk drama can be Difficult Difficult Lemon Difficult." MMMM I THINK THE FUCK NOT, MY GUYS LMAO??? They both did SO well with all the drama and painful moments. The acting in episodes 2, 3, 6, and 7 in particular like...God. GOD!!!

I loved so many characters in this season, and I'll of course have to give two individual shoutouts to my two favorite new ladies, but man. LET'S GO FRENCHIE!!! ALWAYS A DELIGHT!!! FANG/KEVIN MY ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART. JIM SERVING ABSOLUTE FUCKING GENDER THIS SEASON. OLU OLU DARLING OLU. PETE NEVER MISSING WITH HIS ONELINERS. LUCIUS BEING SO THEATRICAL AHDJKSDK LIKE NATHAN PLEASE YOU KILL ME. ROACH MAKING ME LAUGH OUT LOUD NUMEROUS TIMES AS HE DOES. WEE JOHN AND HIS KNITTING AND DRAG!!! AND THEN OF COURSE MY DEARLY BELOVEDS, ED AND STEDE. I JUST LOVE THEMMMMM!!! But okay okay okay-

Zheng my beloved. I just love this badass pirate queen with her sweet little pigtails and her IMMACULATE LINE DELIVERIES SDHJKSKL. A lot of my favorite deliveries from the entire season came from her quite honestly. Please see: "Girl, how ARE you?" and "Hiiiiiii. I KNOWWW it's been a day" and "I've killed mediocre men. I've killed exceptional men. But you're the worst kind: a mediocre man who thinks he's exceptional."

AND ARCHIE MY BELOVED. She kills me because I remember seeing like, those ~*~audition tape whispers~*~ WAY back in the day, and subsequently thinking she was going to be quite a different character. Only for this silly goofy bubbly energetic darling to pop up and snag my heart. HER deliveries kill me also, like when she goes "Like...STEDE Stede?" and the whole "I was IN the fuckin' snake!" also hhngngngngnershkfhslkds tattooed ladies Hot :(

Speaking of which, the comedy. THE DELIVERIES. THE WAY I LAUGHED OUT LOUD NUMEROUS TIMES THROUGHOUT, EVEN WITH THE DEEP UNDERCURRENT OF DRAMA/ANGST. The whole bit where Stede is in hysterics over his cursed coat is just hsjkdhsklds; it will NEVER not make me wheeze. And then, like I said, almost EVERYTHING Pete says this season kills me; another thing that will never not make me laugh is "a doggie...?" weird little pirate show with weird little humor my beloved

The ROMANCE??? I genuinely was going into the season with the expectation of getting maybe like, one or two Gentlebeard kisses. Imagine my shock and utter delight when we ended up with FOUR, AS WELL AS AN INTIMATE SCENE, THE LETTER SCENES, AND THE LOVE PROFESSIONS. Like, one of them dropping a legitimate "I love you" felt like an unrealistic expectation--the HIGHEST dream tier really. And then wouldn't you know it. And that doesn't even account for all the rest of the couples either! The murder wives having their chaotic little moments of fucked up affection??? LUCIUS AND PETE GETTING ENGAGED AND THEN MARRIED??? HELLO??????

The sets! I know people have pointed out that the world felt a bit simplified this time around, due to budget restraints and what have you. But I still loved what they did with the world even with the various constraints. The market in episode 6 is a PARTICULAR favorite of mine; it's just so lush and colorful. I also love what they did with The Revenge during episode 6 too!

Also, this might be an unpopular opinion, but I really actually liked that they filmed on location. First of all, love that the Kiwis got to be right at home in Aotearoa. Love that they have an even more special connection to the show now. But second of all, I just like when scenery is...actually THERE? It feels way more TANGIBLE. Don't get me wrong; that hugeass wraparound screen that they use to film a lot of sets is a technological marvel. But I'm a sucker for practical.

The deeper and more complex dives into character motivations/trauma. Like, homie lol...When I tell you episodes 6 and 7 utterly set my brain alight in the best way possible. I was CHUGGING through thoughts. You know those gifs where someone is walking around and ranting/passionately talking,,, yeah. Yeah. Maybe because a lot of it "struck a chord" with me indeed, but I love love LOVE getting brain food like that.

Speaking of brain food, in PARTICULAR, the deeper dives into Ed's self-loathing and into Stede's troubles with confidence and masculinity. A lot of Stede's choices were fueled by those two things, and it was SO friggin fun to catch all of them, put them in a jar, and shake them around. I've seen a lot of people fearing his actions in the latter half were out of character, but to me, I don't see it that way. I just see a man who has been so spurned, so left behind, and SO deprived, a man who is stuck thinking he has to be someone else to mean something. And I think that plays a lot into even the EARLIEST developments we saw in season 1, so it was just so intriguing to watch everything messily play out.

THE INNKEEPER. THE INNKEEPER MY BELOVED. SO much about that episode absolutely has my heart. All the different developments, the stakes, the pacing, and the payoff at the end. Not to mention that I had a FEELING that mysterious figure in the trailers was Hornigold, so it was so SO validating to see him pop up PFFF. And also, all those dream/gravy basket sequences were so so good too. I don't know if it's the chemistry between Taika and Mark, or the deeper symbolism, or the lines that have become vocal stims for me SJKDLS (please see: ooOOoooO eddie eddie eddie...you're laying some heavy shit on me, bro), but man. MAN.

And this one gets its own bullet because of course it does: the fucking mermaid scene. Like, are we kidding. ARE WE KIDDING. THE ROMANCE OF IT ALL? THE FANTASTICAL-NESS INDEED?? THE WAY IT WAS ALL FUCKING PRACTICAL AND RHYS SWAM DOWN TO TAIKA AS A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GOLDFISH AND THEY HAD TO THROW HEART EYES AT EACH OTHER UNDERWATER??? WHAT THE FUCK!!! And don't even get me started on Kate Bush lol. This Woman's Work might easily be one of my favorite songs, if not my FAVORITE song from the season. And man. Man. The whole meaning behind Ed seeing Stede as this beautiful, sparkly being, and not some hypermasculine/extraordinary thing. He fell in love with Stede for who Stede really is. And so I ADORE that acknowledgement.

Speaking of songs, the MUSIC!!! Absolute bangers all throughout. And I loved how there seemed to be even more intermixed within the episodes. Like God... "These are the kids..." 🗣️ HELLO MY LOVE I HEARD A KISS FROM YOU 🦗🦟🦗🦟🦗🦟 . And all the beautiful classic piano pieces and NINA SIMONE AND JUST HSJKDHSFJKLHSKD????

Okay, I've always had and STILL have complicated thoughts and opinions on Izzy, but man, seeing him interact with the Revenge Crew was really something. Seeing Stede's influence come over the lot of them like a warm blanket, extending its welcoming and familial hands...It was just lovely. I love seeing our little sea family care for each other so much. They've probably all hurt so so much in different ways, so to see them all being a collective heart is just so nice.

Speaking of which, the queerness of it all, the queer celebration of it all. The way the whole crew is just...a representation of queer people finding each other, and subsequently finding love and family in each other. Like, when the whole world wants to cast you out, you pull each other in. When no one else wants you, you take refuge in each other. And just...the joy, beauty, and wonder that can be found in that.

And speaking of which x2, the overall care that was put into the entire thing, the effort that was put into the entire thing. I know Max fucked us over with the budget, which subsequently fucked things like the intricacy, the amount of characters, and especially the pacing. But, I don't know; I personally could still tell everyone involved was trying so so hard to deliver for us. Based on the little details, the little callbacks, and the little moments that felt so catered to us, it just seemed so...gifted to us. Not to mention of course, the way they so deliberately chose to end on a hopeful note in case we never get a third season. They care about us. They've always cherished our excitement and passion, so it just...idk; it feels so special to have a bit more of an intimate connection like that. I've never been involved with a piece of media that so avidly SEES its audience, and celebrates along with us. So, despite everything, despite any sort of troubles, despite any sort of lows, that's a big part of what has me clutching all of this so closely to my chest. And I really hope they can still see that love, because I want nothing more than for them to see this beautiful story through.

Also, getting to enjoy this with everyone. Getting to ride the wave from the beginning of filming, all the way through the finale. Getting to see all the excitement, all the theories, all the art, all the fanfiction, all the gif sets, all the meta, and everything in between. It has carried me through some nastiness in my personal life, and has subsequently served as a very welcomed distraction. It's been such a pleasure getting to delight in this new content with you all, and I hope we get to do so into the future. <3

[erodasfishtacos]

Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding. 

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!

please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!

---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought. 

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning. 

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding. 

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations. 

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong. 

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour. 

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date. 

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area. 

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures. 

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment. 

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly. 

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being. 

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives. 

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often. 

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day. 

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red. 

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

-

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting. 

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way. 

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were. 

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models. 

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow. 

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much. 

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

--

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous. 

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that. 

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London. 

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on. 

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner. 

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar. 

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant. 

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them. 

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

 “I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date. 

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him. 

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so. 

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight. 

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones. 

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

--

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition. 

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

-

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment. 

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after. 

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

--

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

-

Hair and makeup went fast. 

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving. 

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding. 

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing. 

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about. 

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design. 

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family. 

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle. 

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony. 

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***. 

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm. 

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off. 

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless. 

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple. 

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

--

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

--

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

--

The reception is more of a dinner than a party. 

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect. 

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry. 

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle. 

There is not much more to say than that. 

--

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough. 

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night. 

To have someone laid out underneath him. 

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek. 

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay. 

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers. 

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them. 

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would. 

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

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[lemonpika]

>>phone sex

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ:

ᴇʀᴇɴ, ᴀʀᴍɪɴ, ᴊᴇᴀɴ, ᴄᴏɴɴɪᴇ, ʟᴇᴠɪ, ʏᴇʟᴇɴᴀ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ᴏʀɢᴀꜱᴍꜱ, ᴍᴏᴍᴍʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴇx, ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ,

!!ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ!!

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Eren Jaeger

Oh fuck yeah

He would be the one to suggest it to you casually one day

You kinda just sat there and said yes and then shrugged it off, not thinking much of it

But the next day, you’re barely clocked out of work and were walking to your car

Guess who fucking decides to call you :)

Eren is usually already either jerking off or palming at his erection through his pants

He likes to call you when he knows you’re in public too just to see how you’d react and if you’d play along or not

There have been times where you’ve actually touched yourself in the driver’s seat, letting his husky voice guide you to orgasm

Mutual masturbation and masturbation instructions are his favorite to do

Depending on his mood, he’ll either call you adorable pet names or degrade the absolute shit out of you

When he’s feeling loving and soft, he’ll call you “my baby” “princess” “baby girl” “my love”

On the flip side, if he’s feeling REALLY horny, he’ll call you a “slut” “stupid bitch” “little whore”

His dirty talk game is IMMACULATE

He will literally fill your voicemails if you decide not to pick up

“Hey, baby girl. Since you’re not home yet, I decided to play with myself because I just couldn’t wait. I bet your pussy is wet from thinking about me all day at work. You’re such a naughty little girl, you know that? Anyways, come home soon so I can take care of that dripping cunt.”

HE GROWLS WHEN HE CUMS

And it’s right in your ear too

Once you get home, be prepared to not be able to walk properly because this man is HUNGRY

Armin Arlert

Poor Armin, he’s such a shy guy

Even though you had been dating for years, it was you who recently brought up the idea of phone sex

He was a bit apprehensive about it at first since he felt awkward about carrying out your sex life through the phone

But after some time, you ended up convincing the boy that it wasn’t all too bad

When you first started out, he would call you after class and he would start with the usual “What are you wearing right now?”

Despite literally seeing you off before you went to class

The buildup is usually slow, but once he gets into it, he really gets into it

Unlike Eren, he will exclusively use soft, loving pet names like “pretty girl” “my love” “darling” “MOMMY”

Normally, whenever he calls, he’s already in the mood but he’ll wait for you to pick up before he starts touching himself

He’ll stutter through the whole thing

BECAUSE HE’S A SUB

But he’ll stutter for different reasons ;)

In the beginning, he’ll stutter because of the initial awkwardness

But towards the end, his stuttering is caused by him being unable to form coherent sentences or words

He won’t leave voicemails because he doesn’t want to spam you or bother you if you truly are busy

But every time you pick up his calls, you can literally hear his smile through the phone

“Hey, honey! How was class? Anyways, so uh.. I kinda have this problem and I was wondering if you could help me out with it?”

Will say the most endearing words ever! His calls don’t turn you on as much as they make you just want to come home to make soft love with him

“Oh, YN… Your voice sounds so heavenly right now. God, I wish you were here touching me so badly. I am your good little boy, right? You’ll touch me when you get home, right?”

Needy little boy...

Jean Kirstein

This man literally had discord phone sex in senior year of high school

So this shit is right up his alley

You’re normally the one who calls him but he’ll send texts asking if he can call you for “special” reasons ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)\

He likes to make sure that you can safely answer his calls from the comfort of your own car or your room

The type of guy to ask how big/good his dick is for foreplay

“Baby girl, I know that you love my dick. But tell me what exactly drives you crazy about it… Yeah, that’s right. Keep praising my cock like the good little obedient slut you are.”

LITERALLY A GOD AT TALKING DIRTY (despite his humble discord beginnings)

He likes it better when he’s the one at risk of getting caught

It helps him cum faster because the thought of getting caught turns him on so badly

Jean probably calls you when he’s drunk as shit with Connie and Sasha

And the shit he says when he’s inebriated is just.. Wow

Drunk Jean is a switch ;) but he’ll never admit that to your face

“Yn, I want you to ride my cock and use me up until you cum. I want your cute little fingers around my neck as you squeeze my cock with your tight pussy”

Also way more vocal when drunk

Jean’s favorite things to call you are “baby girl” “cutie” “shawty” (unironically) also “mommy” when drunk ;)

Connie Springer

He’s such a fucking tease

At first, he thought you were joking when you said you wanted his fingers inside of you

So he replied with a stupid pornstar moan

That is, until he heard the soft, wet noises your fingers were creating over the receiver

“Wait wait wait, are you actually playing with your pussy right now? Like, for realsies?”

You’re the one who calls Connie because he can be a little air-headed and aloof at times

But, boy, does he get your gears grinding

Unbeknownst to you, but he likes to feign ignorance just so he could take full advantage of you later

He’ll pretend to not know how phone sex works, but then suddenly flips the script when you start losing your arousal

You like to bring up how good he looks whenever he rubs the back of his head in the morning and how you wish his hands were engulfing you

Connie is smug as fuck whenever he sees you calling him when he’s out. He knows that there’s a 99% chance that he’ll be greeted with a needy “Connieeeee~”

He’s such a chad that he won’t even jerk off. He’ll just coax you through your orgasm and promise his swift return home

“Ah, fuck YN… I bet your fingers must feel so fucking good. You’re probably picturing me fingering you just the way you like, huh? Why don’t you do me a favor and cum already? I want you to be ready for me when I come home.”

Despite not touching himself, it’s hard for him to hide the pitching in his pants as he hears your meek begs and whimpers for him to come home already

Will ABSOLUTELY raw you if you do as he asks

There is nothing that he loves more than entering your room and seeing you still with your panties pushed to the side and your fingers dripping with your cum

Levi Ackerman

Levi’s a little more old school

He’s surprisingly shy to talk on the phone because he feels awkward not being able to look you right in the eye and ask you who you belong to

Instead, he just sorta grumbles and lets you take the lead since he’s so unfamiliar with the concept

Over time, he gets more confident and starts talking to you the way he normally does in bed, but he still likes it when you take charge

The two of you call each other pretty often

Normally, the conversation doesn’t start with the intent to get your rocks off. It’s usually just you asking about his day and him asking you the same

But after about half an hour or so, you mention the amazing sex the two of you had the night before

“Yeah, that was pretty good for a brat like you. But why do you bring that up now?” he likes to drop his voice to signal that he’s also in the mood

“I mean, I do have a few minutes where you and I can talk as adults.”

Levi doesn’t allow you to touch yourself unless he explicitly orders you to do so

And if he hears a single noise from your end, he’ll hang up

Or worse, he’ll let out a dark chuckle, hang up, and proceed to speed home

He hates it whenever you disobey and he knows he’ll be in total control over you the second he walks into the room

Phone sex is menial to him. Why bother with weak foreplay when he can just ravish you when he gets home?

He likes to call you his “brat” “toy” “princess”

Yelena

MA’AM

Where do I begin with this one

Yelena is always the one to call you. Don’t even think about calling her because she’ll decline it right away just to call you right back

It’s how she asserts her dominance over you in a subtle way

“My dear YN, I’m going to be home from the office a little late today. What will you do while you wait for me to come back, hm?”

Her voice is soothing and calm, yet you know her well enough to know that she’s only using her ‘nice’ voice to hide her sadism

The B E S T at describing what she wants to do to you

Before you can even answer her initial question, she just chuckles 

“I want to violate your cunt while you have your hands tied to the bed. I want to watch you squirm and beg for me to stop because you’re about to pass out from your fifth orgasm”

Your body tends to tremble whenever she says such dirty things to you

She calls you pet names mixed with degrading terms such as “good little slave” “my beautiful whore” and sometimes “my love” if she lets you cum from your own fingers.

OH YEAH SHE WILL ALSO SEND YOU LEWD PICTURES BEFORE TEASING YOU AND SAYING YOU’LL HAVE TO WAIT LIKE A GOOD GIRL

Why am i so in love with this woman

Loves praising you while calling you a dirty whore

On the days she does let you touch yourself, she seldom lets you cum

She thinks that you’re not as loud as you normally are whenever she’s having her meal.

You best believe that she’ll stand in your doorway with the strap locked and ready whenever she returns ;)

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hey guys! I’ve been working on a few projects to post on here so be on the lookout for those :) I definitely want to write more wlw stuff because I feel like it’s underrepresented sometimes. My posting may be a little slower since college started for me and it’s been a little rough on my mental health. But rest assured! I am taking good care of myself and writing really helps me feel better. I just wanted to do a quick and fun post before taking my first midterm so wish me luck :) I love all of you who are reading this and I really hope some of my writing puts you in a better mood like it does for me!

-writer pika

[writing-wh0re]

October 7th. Kinky Halloween Special Masterlist

Kink: Daddy

Au!Fred x Reader.

Words: 2,524.

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Sex, Female Performing Oral, Male Performing Oral, Dirty Talk, Daddy Dom Fred, Praise. Best-friends Dad (Age Gap) 

*Nova is my own character. 

The moment Nova had suggested that I tag along with her for the summer and stay at her dad’s lake house, I couldn’t refuse. I was so excited. 

One, the lake house is in the prime location, bars are within walking distance, the pool is immaculate and the view was something else all together. 

Two, Nova’s dad, Fred. 

God Fred was the definition of Dilf. 

The first time I noticed my school girl crush was Nova’s 21st birthday. Fred had booked out a private Yacht and invited most of the people from our classes. It was sweet and probably the happiest I have seen Nova. However, I spent most of the night at the top of the Yacht drinking and joking around with Fred, both of us wanting to escape the crowd. That night solidified my crush for the older man, especially the second his fingertips brushed my knee which caused my skin to erupt with goosebumps and my breath to catch in my throat. I could have sworn Fred’s eyes lingered on my cleavage a little too much that night but I’m sure it was the alcohol swirling through my veins. 

“Ready?” Nova’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, her suitcase behind her. 

“Definitely.” I confirm zipping my case and following Nova out of our dorm, excitement and nervous bubbling inside of me. 

\\//

Nova pushes the large dark wood door open, the smell of cinnamon and apple filling the air, light chatter bouncing off the walls. 

“I think my uncle is here.” Nova mumbles, leaving her suitcase on the ground and walking through the house. I follow her lead, ditching my suitcase and taking in the beautifully styled home. 

“Hey Dad, uncle George.” 

I almost faint on the spot, there’s Fred and a literal duplicate of Fred.

“Uh Dad you remember Y/n, George this is my best friend Y/n.” I smile weakly at the pair as George smiles at me.

“Good to see you again Y/n.” Fred smiles, I notice George side eye Fred quickly raising his eyebrows before taking a sip of his drink. Fred simply smirks, nodding softly, his eyes lingering on me before darting over to Nova. I frown my eyebrows together trying to understand what they are silently talking about, surely not me. I shake the thought from my head, of course two grown men haven't been talking about me, especially not my best friend's dad. Get it together Y/n. 

“So, what do you have planned for this summer?” George asks, his eyes flicking between Nova and I. 

“Definitely hitting the bars, soaking in the sun and maybe finding a man or two.” Nova winks as she hands me a glass of wine. 

“A man?” Fred questions. 

“Or two?” George questions both of them laughing at each other. 

“It's summer, why not have a little fun?” The second the words leave my lips I feel a blush creep upon my face, Fred and George both chuckling in response. 

“Maybe we should go have some summer fun Freddie.” George smirks causing Nova to gag slightly. 

“Right, that's our cue to leave.” Nova mumbles quickly downing the rest of her glass and walking back inside the house. 

“Uh.” The heat returns to my body as I get left alone with Fred and George. I leave my glass on the table in front of me and walk inside the house, once inside I turn back to take in Fred’s appearance one last time. My breath hitches in my throat and butterflies erupt inside of me as our eyes lock together. I hurriedly look away and rush through the house to get ready for the night with Nova. 

Coincidence. Just a simple Coincidence. 

\\// 

Nova and I had been dancing for hours, the music thumped through my chest, the alcohol flowed through my veins and my mind kept wandering to Fred, curious as to what he is doing right now. 

“Hey, this is Tom and we’re getting out of here.” Nova squeals excitedly, pulling a blonde guy behind her before I even have a chance to respond. 

“Seriously?” I yell, my voice falling silent over the sound of the music. I follow behind the pair, hoping to catch Nova and ask if she is seriously leaving me in the club right now. 

“Hey!” 

Nova’s body disappears into a cab before she has the chance to hear me. 

“Fuck.” I huff, the cool breeze hitting my exposed skin. Only a three minute walk back to the house, I tell myself. I quickly check the time, 11:45pm, Fred will definitely be asleep and won’t question Nova’s hodiny act. 

The walk back was quick and almost claiming. The sound of the wind blowing in the trees, owls hooting and the crispy moon light shining along the streets. 

The walk back to the house had definitely sobered me up, now fully aware of how loud my heels are against the pavement. I decide to slip my heels off before walking on the wooden deck, not wanting to disturb Fred. I search through my bag, trying to find the house key but coming up empty handed. 

“Fuck you Nova.” I mumble, slightly lifting up the doormat with my foot in hopes of a spare key, but no luck. Right as I’m about to walk around the back and sleep on the deck chairs the door pulls open. 

Fred and George both laugh and continue their conversation before their eyes land on me. 

“Oh Y/n, hello again.” George smiles. 

“Um, hey.” I smile back. My eyes quickly flick to Fred his toned chest on full display and loose grey sweatpants hanging on his hips. 

“Everything okay? You’re missing Nova.” Fred asks, slight worry filling his voice. 

“Yeah no, everything is fine, Nova is making her summer fun with Tom?” I question wondering if I should even be telling her father and uncle this. 

The twins laugh at my question, both shaking their heads. 

“Well I will see you later, nice meeting you y/n.” George smiles, “Enjoy your summer Freddie.” George’s eyes look me up and down before he walks past me, the sound of his car unlocking in the near distance. 

“Excuse me.” I mumble pushing past Fred as he stands in the doorway, I quickly drop my shoes with the others at the door, wanting to rush away to my room. 

“So why aren’t you out making your summer fun with a guy?” 

I feel my mouth go dry at his question, how do I answer this without saying it’s because of you dumbass. 

“The guy’s I typically go for aren’t hanging around at clubs.” Fred raises his eyebrow, his eyes flicking from my lips and back to my eyes. 

“What kind of guys do you go for?” 

Now's your chance, say it's him, if it goes badly act super drunk and blame it on that. I take a deep breath after listening to the internal battle with myself. 

“Guys that choose to stay in with their brothers and drink.” The moment the sentence flows through the air, my cheeks heat up, both with nerves and regret. 

Fred smirks, licking his lips before walking towards me. I back away from him slightly before my back hits the wall. 

“Is that so? Darling, I'm old enough to be your father” 

“That has never been an issue for me… daddy.” 

Fred groans before locking his lips with mine. I moan into the kiss, the sweet taste of cinnamon whiskey on his tongue as our tongues fight for dominance. His hands roam my body, falling to the middle of my back and pulling me flush against his chest. My fingers lace in his hair, tugging on the strands. 

“This is wrong.” I pant, pulling away from the kiss as our chests rise and fall. 

“Say the word and I stop.” Fred’s eyes search mine for any hesitation before I close the gap between us. His hands fall to my thighs picking me up in one swift motion and slowly walking us to his bedroom. My red dress hikes up my thighs with every step closer to the room, my black lace panties on full display. I pull my lips away from Fred’s kissing down his neck before discovering his sweet spot. His fingers grip my ass tight, moans falling from his lips. 

A surprised squeal escapes me as Fred drops me on his bed, his eyes lingering on my body. Before he has the chance to ask me I pull my dress from my skin, leaving me in just my panties, thankful that my dress didn’t require a bra. 

“Jesus.” Fred steps back, taking in the sight of me half naked and under him, egar for him. 

“Daddy please.” The nickname causes his eyes to roll back slightly, a low sigh passing his lips as he cages me in against the mattress, kissing my lips before trailing kisses down my neck towards my boobs. I arch my back causing my nipple to press against his tongue more, his teeth pulling at the hardening nub. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Fred smirks, chuckling as the slight vibration rumbles against my skin. 

“I’ve barely touched you babygirl, look at you, so needy and eager for me.” 

“Only you.” 

My words pull yet another chuckle from his lips. Fred’s fingertips trail along the waistband on my panties causing a shiver to run down my spine. He leans down over my body, his warm breath fanning against my neck. 

“Get on your knees.” Within a second I am on my knees looking up at him. “Fuck, such a good girl.” 

I softly nod in response, my hand palming his evident erection through his sweatpants. Fred hisses at the contact before ridding himself of the clothing. 

A whimper escapes me at the sight of his hard cock. Longer and thicker than I had imagined but everything I need. 

Without being asked I take his dick in my hand, pumping up and down as I lightly swirl my tongue around the head. 

“Yes baby.” Fred’s fingers loop in my hair, holding it out of the way to ensure he gets the perfect view of his cock disappearing into my throat. I bob my head up and down his length, my tongue swirling and my cheeks hollowing out. Fred’s cock leaves my lips with a pop, he grabs his dick and slowly slides it up and down my tongue moaning at the sight. 

“Fucking perfect.” My eyes roll back at the praise, arousal leaking down my thighs and my mind hoping this isn’t some twisted dream. 

Fred pulls me up by my arms, his lips finding mine again in a hungry kiss. His fingertips brush against my clothed pussy before slipping past the fabric and rubbing my swollen clit. I hiss at the contact, Fred moans at the feeling of my wetness. 

“Daddy’s girl likes sucking dick huh?” 

“Makes her little pussy drip?” 

“Does my princess touch herself to the thought of me?” 

I meekly nod in response not wanting the pleasure to stop, however Fred stops his movements causing me to whimper. 

“Daddy asked you a question darling, do you think of me when you cum?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Good girl.” He presses a quick kiss to the side of my head before he pushes me back onto the bed, ripping the panties from my skin. His tongue presses flat against my clit as I sigh with pleasure and surprise. 

“Daddy.” 

Fred hums against my pussy, swirling his tongue in a figure eight motion as my fingers grip the bed sheets. Fred continues to lap at my cunt, savouring the taste before his hands find mine, lacing our fingers together. 

“Fuck.” I moan as I look down at Fred, his eyes catching mine while swiping his tongue side to side. 

“Yes, fuck, oh I’m close.” I regret saying the words the second Fred pulls away from me. 

“No baby, you’re cumming on my cock.” Butterflies fill my stomach at his words, truly hoping this is really happening. 

Fred lays down next to me on the bed, grabbing my hips and guiding me to straddle his waist. His hand falls behind my neck, our lips meet in a brief kiss before being broken by my moans. Fred slides inside of me, stretching my walls perfectly. 

“So big daddy.” My fingernails drag down his chest earning a hiss from his lips. After a few seconds of adjusting to his size I rock my hips back and forth, keeping my hands placed on his chest for balance. 

“Beautiful.” Blush fills my cheeks at his praise, his soft hands rubbing up and down my sides. I keep my rhythm, every now and again swirling my hips for a different sensation, one that pulls the most delicious moans from his lips. Fred’s hands grip my ass, spanking the supple skin as I cry out in pleasure. 

“Is this what you like, baby? Taking control and fucking daddy?” I hum in response as my eyes flutter closed basking in the feeling of his cock hitting my g-spot. Fred’s hands move to my back, flipping us over as I gasp. 

“Only I can make you feel this good.” 

My lips part and my eyes squeeze shut at the new angle. Fred’s resting on his knees with my legs against his chest, ankles resting on his shoulders, his hands groping my boobs. 

“Look at you squirming on my cock, ruining you for any other man.” 

“God daddy yes.” 

“You’re mine.” 

“Only yours daddy.” 

Fred grunts at my response, his pace picking up as he starts to rub fast circles on my clit. 

“Yes!” I cry out, my pussy clenching around him. “Just like that.” 

“You cum when I say.” 

I huff, digging my nails into the comforter as I scream and cry out. 

“Daddy please, please let me cum.” 

Fred grunts, licking his lips.

“Mmm hold it for me.” 

My eyes roll back as my back arches off the mattress. 

“Daddy, please!” 

I feel Fred’s cock twitch inside of me, a deep moan filling the air. 

“Fucking cum for me Y/n.” 

A shiver runs down my spine, my body tenses as Fred’s name passes my lips. My mind feels foggy and my vision blurs. Fred grips my legs, his hips faltering as his hot release fills me. 

Fred pulls out of me, both of us sighing, our chests rising and falling, sweat glistening on our bodies. 

“Thank you.” I blurt out, feeling tiredness wash over me. 

“No need to thank me Darling.” He places a soft kiss to my lips as I feel my eyelids get heavier, not even bothering to move as sleep envelops me. 

\\//

I wake up the next morning to the sun shining through the blinds. Instantly everything floods back from last night. I quickly lift up the bedsheets, my naked body confirming that it wasn’t just a dream. 

“Morning.” Fred mumbles, his morning voice sending wetness straight to my pussy. 

“Morning.” I whisper a goofy smile on my face. Fred pulls me into him, his nose brushing against mine before our lips meet in the middle. 

“Hey dad, have you see- WHAT THE FUCK?”

\\// 

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[jaeminscoffee]

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right? 

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place. 

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad) 

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense. 

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend. 

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people. 

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny. 

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you. 

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks. 

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look. 

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it" 

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n." 

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing. 

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine." 

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda. 

Ironic, huh? 

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night. 

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location. 

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze. 

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder. 

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming. 

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning. 

"Answer me." 

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement. 

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?" 

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place. 

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot. 

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study. 

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling. 

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command. 

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck. 

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features. 

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking. 

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode 

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?" 

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions. 

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you. 

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear. 

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?" 

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in. 

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck." 

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?" 

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed. 

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?" 

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum. 

"Say it, Y/n." 

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad. 

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds. 

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. 

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers. 

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?" 

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach. 

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe. 

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully. 

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.." 

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration, 

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night. 

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity. 

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly. 

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!" 

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock" 

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad. 

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel" 

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.  

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace, 

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm. 

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast. 

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you. 

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper. 

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name. 

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure. 

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls, 

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for. 

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed. 

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him. 

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side, 

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad, 

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???" 

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

[hajim3]

𝙰𝚔𝚊𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝙽𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜

꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷꒦ ꒷꒦‧˚.‧꒷꒦꒷‧˚꒦꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷꒦ ꒷꒦‧˚.‧꒷꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷

Honestly I was bored and just felt like posting something since I haven���t actually posted any writings in a while. I’ve been working on my m.list and that shit hard 😩

n e way enjoy😌💖

honestly idek what to put for the warnings just know it’s nsfw 👍🏾

nsfw under the cut; minors pls dni; gn!reader

word count: 489

꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷꒦ ꒷꒦‧˚.‧꒷꒦꒷‧˚꒦꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷꒦ ꒷꒦‧˚.‧꒷꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷

- First of all before I say anything’s else lemme get something out the way..... he’s kinky asf boo💅🏾✨

- Like seriously he will dead ass try anything as long as your cool with it

- If he’s whoreknee before a game he will MOST DEF pull you into the locker room and he either lets you blow him or he just full on rails you against the lockers y’all may or may not have gotten caught by Bokuto once or twice😗

- He is the KING of teasing

- Whispering dirty things in your ear in front of people, rubbing your thigh just a little bit to high and squeezing it, and don’t get caught lackin cuz he will slap your ass and you’ll be left limping

- Whispering dirty things in your ear in front of people, rubbing your thigh just a little bit to high and squeezing it, and don’t get caught lackin cuz he will slap your ass and you’ll be left limping

- If your being bratty and trying to tease him, he’ll act like nothing is wrong all day so you keep acting up like he’s not gonna bend you over his knee and spank you raw then fuck you till you damn near pass out as soon as y’all get home... lord bless your poor soul

- One time you were being extra needy while he was on an important phone call and he continuously told you to stop and wait but you obviously didn’t, so when he got done, he blindfolded you, tied your hands and ankles to the head board, and left a vibrator in you while he took a shower

- Even when he took the vibrator out, he still fucked you until you were a fucked out, crying mess🌟

- Aftercare is ✨immaculate✨

- He’ll run you guys a hot bath with candles lit around it and carry you to the bath tub and he’ll clean you up while showering you face with little kisses

- Then he brings you two back to bed and he whispers praises into your ears while you two cuddle and he massages your lower back with his thumb and rubs over and kisses the marks that the rope left

- The next morning he cooks breakfast and when he wakes you up, you’re all sore and bruised up and he just chuckles at how pathetic you look❤️

NOW LETS TALK DICC SIZE

- Soft- 7 inches

- Hard- 9.5

- Got some thicc to it, not to much but just enough to drive you crazy😩 and it’s literally so pretty like wtf; the tip is kinda pink and it’s got some veins running down it whew chile 🧎🏾‍♀️

-Nick Names-

For him~ babe/baby, sweetie, daddy

Contact name~ Lover Boy 😩💗

For you~ babe/baby/baby girl/boy, Darling, sweetheart (ok so I don’t like y*gami sharto anymore but I do feel like he would call you darling it kinda fits)

Contact name~ Darling 🌺❤️✨

FIN

 ⌜ •   °    +   °   •   ⌝

© original work of hajim3 (2021), do not modify or repost without permission.

Likes, reblogs and follows are greatly appreciated 💖

[koulakoukoula2003]

Winter on Paradis

Pairings: Levi x y/n x Erwin, Hange x Moblit, Eren x Mikasa, Marlowe x Hitch

Genre: Fluff, Comedy

Summary: (AU where nobody dies in the Battle of Shiganshina) Everybody is more than excited to find everything covered in white outside the Survey Corps HQ. The Winter Holidays are closer than ever, and you can't wait to spend them alongside your husband, and your brats in your Special Operations Squad.

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This takes place after the Battle of Shiganshina. Moblit and Hange are married. You and Levi are married. BASICALLY EVERYBODY'S HAPPY, WE NEED SOME HAPPINESS IN THIS FANDOM GODDAMMIT😭😭

Enjoy! 🥰

The next morning, everything was white outside. Everybody was way too excited. It was the 24th of December. And tomorrow was her beloved husband’s birthday. (Y/n) had to think of presents, but all she could look at now, was the whiteness that spread all around them. The snow looked puffy. Only for Connie and Sasha to step right in and destroy it's immaculate beauty. They dove right into the snow, throwing snowballs at each other, and Jean soon joined, playing like five-year-olds.

A snowball landed on Marlowe’s back and he turned, only to be met with an even larger one landing on his face and Sasha with Connie laughed their asses off.

“Aw man, look at that mess,” Hitch approached her boyfriend wiping the white snow off his face. They were all dressed in their pyjamas. They hadn’t even bothered to throw on a cloak or a jacket. Armin had barged right into the barracks, notifying them all that everything outside was covered in a thick, beautiful veil of white and everybody just had to run outside right away.

“No worries, Hitch. I’ve got this,” Marlowe cracked his fingers before he leaned down, picking a large handful of snow and tossing it in Connie’s way. Connie’s laughter ceased as the throw was so powerful, it knocked him down on the snow and Sasha only pointed down at him laughing even more.

Hitch threw another snowball, knocking Sasha down beside Connie. Hitch laughed throwing a fist in the air. “That’s what you get for sneak-attacking my boyfriend!”

Meanwhile, Jean and Eren had been glaring at each other with snowballs in their fists, waiting for the right moment to throw them. Mikasa and Armin were just watching as Jean and Eren did nothing but stare intensely at each other as if they were trying to curse at each other with just one look. Armin raised an eyebrow. Wait a minute…

“Are you guys making a staring contest?” Armin pointed out but the two didn’t answer. They were too busy with trying to keep their eyes open.

Mikasa groaned. “Seriously?! What are you guys? Five-year-olds?!”

The two ignored her and tried to keep it up for as long as they could manage. Eren was the first to give in. “AAH! MY EYES!”

Jean threw a fist in the air. “FUCK YEAH!” And then he tossed the melting snowball that he had in his hand towards his friend. He grabbed another snowball tossing it at him, and another. “Can Mikasa stop me from turning you into a snowman?!” Jean cried out.

“SHUT UP, JEANBOYYYY!” Eren launched at him and they both came crushing down on the snow, beating each other up.

By the time the veterans walked out, it was a mess. (Y/n) had chosen to put on that one thick coat that she had for such circumstances. It was brown, way too big for her small body, but quite cosy and warm due to the fur embroidered on the inside of it. Of course, she had hurried to the barracks to catch all those coats of her squad’s stuff that she recognised. She had washed those coats before. She passed all six of them around her arm and she hurried outside.

Connie, Sasha, Marlowe and Hitch were locked in a thunderous snowball fight. Mikasa and Armin were cheering for Eren whilst he fought with Jean. (Y/n) sighed and she just shook her head. Those kids were going to catch a cold, that was for sure.

“L- Lieutenant (Y/n)-” Marlowe tried to say as he stopped throwing snowballs and turned at his superior, only to be knocked down by a powerful snowball from Connie.

“HELL YEAH!” Connie cried out.

“High-five!” Sasha raised her hand only for Connie to give it a smack.

Hitch growled as she gathered all the snow she could. “You little-”

“Time-out! Time-out! Unarmed person passing by!” (Y/n) cried out as she walked between the two groups. She caught Marlowe’s hand helping him up.

“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Marlowe said as he dusted off the snow from his shoulders. (Y/n) passed his coat around his shoulders and she messed his hair pushing the snow away.

“What have I asked you to call me?” (Y/n) grinned as she settled the coat closer around him.

Marlowe started giggling like an idiot. “(Y/n)?”

(Y/n) gave him a smile. “There, there, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She handed Hitch her own coat. Hitch had just joined the Survey Corps, and she with Marlowe were making a pretty good team already.

“Thanks, Lieu- er- (y/n)!”

Connie let out a loud sneeze as (y/n) approached him and she cringed. “Oh dear,”

“It’s nothing, (y/n), seriously,” Connie said as he rubbed his red nose.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow “Sure,” as she passed his own coat around him, and then she did the same with Sasha. “You guys continue,” She grinned. “The team who wins gets to share an entire tray of cake,”

Sasha’s eyes widened. “IT HAS TO BE ME!”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY!” Hitch growled as their hands reached for all the snow she could get.

“SO BE IT!” Connie cried out and the fight continued. (Y/n) giggled as she watched them. She’d never get to make that cake. Those kids would be bedridden by afternoon with an unbearable fever and an undoubtedly sore throat.

Erwin let out a sigh as he watched (y/n) scolding Jean and Eren to death before tucking them both in their coats and then setting over to do the same with Armin and Mikasa. But then he realised he wasn’t the only one staring. An invisible smile spread on Levi’s lips as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his black, thick trench coat, and then another contented sigh came from Moblit. All three men stared at that wonderful woman whilst she mothered the fifteen-year-olds that were making a mess of the street.

Moblit received a painful smack on his shoulder, and he knew of only one woman whose hand was so damn heavy. He turned and he saw his wife. “I get it for those two idiots, but why are YOU SIGHING AND STARING AT HER?!” Hange cried out furiously and Moblit cringed.

“I- I- I wasn’t staring at her!”

“YES, YOU WERE!”

“NO, I WASN’T!”

“FUCK YOU, MOBBY! …and then fuck me too,”

Those two were kissing and making out before they knew it. Levi groaned and rubbed his forehead and Erwin rolled his eyes. Both men turned their attention away from the loudly kissing couple, and they tried to ignore Hange’s moans and Moblit’s groans. Levi clicked his tongue in utter annoyance.

I’m never standing around those two ever again.

Time Skip

“H- Hey, (y/n)?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Y- You don’t happen to have a... twin sister, do you?”

(Y/n) choked back a laugh. Connie’s fever was bringing the wildest hallucinations she had ever seen in a patient with fever. “No, darling,”

“Who brought that goat in here?” Sasha mumbled as she pointed at Hitch who was lying on a bed across from her. No matter her fever, Hitch’s eyebrow twitched in frustration.

“I know for a fact that Sasha’s not hallucinating!” Hitch growled.

“Jeez, can y’all like… shut up?" Jean cut in. "And no, Sasha, that’s not a goat, that’s clearly a unicorn,” Jean pointed out in as-a-matter-of-factedly tone in his voice. (Y/n) cringed. Oh boy. Jean was hallucinating too.

“Speaks the horse,” Eren’s voice came from the bed across of Jean’s and Jean shut his eyes and groaned. Eren was the only one not hallucinating and maybe his titan-shifting abilities had something to do with that. Still, Mikasa was beside him, tending to his fever, and Armin was all around trying to help (y/n) all he could.

“You… son of a b-” Jean tried to say but (y/n) cut him.

“Guys!” She said strictly, catching everyone’s attention. “Let’s just deal with your fever and then you’re all free to skin each other alive, how about that?”

Eren sighed as he let his head roll back on his pillow and Jean groaned. “Fine!”

(Y/n) reached Marlowe. He wasn’t hallucinating either, or at least she thought as much. He was sitting there, quietly on the bed across Connie’s dealing with his fever.

“Hey, honeybun,” Hitch caught Marlowe’s attention. His bed was beside her own. “Do I look like a unicorn to you?”

Marlowe looked at her for a moment. His own fever-induced hallucinations weren’t helping him form an honest answer. “N- No, my sweetiecake,”

“Those are like… the lamest pet names I’ve ever heard of,” Jean commented.

“It’s not like you have a big experience with the ladies and pet names,” Connie grinned. (y/n) couldn’t understand how he was able to tease even though he was in a very high fever.

“Me?” Jean chuckled. “If anybody’s got experience in here, it’s me,” Connie, Sasha and Eren started laughing and a bright blush graced Jean’s cheeks. Jean frowned deeply. “YOU GUYS, SHUT UP!”

“Oi, Jean… I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to your twin brother,” Connie said as he let his head roll back on the pillow. (Y/n) tried her best not to laugh. There he is.

“Ooohhh," Jean nodded casually. "Alright, dude, no problem,”

A/N: Thanks for reading!!! Lemme know if you like it!!! Feel free to reblog and comment below!!! 🥰

[snelbz]

What Happens In Vegas... {3}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Feyre x Rhysand, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Summary: For Feyre’s twenty-first birthday, her best friend took her to Las Vegas for a weekend of fun she could never forget. She’s going home with a lot more than memories.

@snelbz​ / @tacmc​ collab

What Happens In Vegas Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Ask Box

I felt like I had just fallen asleep when someone began hammering on my door.

“Feyre? Are you in there?” The knob shook and it sounded like whoever it was was trying to get in. I’d locked it after the incident with Rhys, just in case he wanted to come back and finish the fight we’d started.

I blinked and sat up, looking around the room, bleary eyed. The last time I had looked at the clock, it was 4:17. It had taken me hours to fall asleep, with the loud music below and the knowledge that Rhys was probably giving Belly Chain the night I should have gotten in Vegas.

Another knock had me climbing across the huge bed and hurrying for the door, but as I reached it, I realized I wore nothing but Rhysand’s shirt he’d left in Vegas. Whatever he’d washed it with, it didn’t smell of puke. The man had some serious laundry skills. Aside from my ruined dress and a couple of other tops, it was all I had with me, so it would have to do.

I reached the door and asked, “Who is it?”

“Amarantha. I’m Rhysand’s PA.”

I cracked open the door and peered out. The elegant redhead from last night stared back at me, unimpressed. From being made to wait or the sight of my bed hair, I didn’t know. Did everyone in this house look like they’d just slunk off the cover of a magazine? Her eyes turned into slits at the sight of Rhys’ shirt.

“His representatives are here to meet with you. You might want to get your ass into gear.” The woman spun on her heel and strode off down the hallway, heels clacking furiously against the terra-cotta tiled floor.

I hesitated, watching her disappear around the corner before closing the door behind me. I slumped back against it with a groan before stumbling into the adjoining bathroom. After a look in the mirror, and a cringe, I decided that a shower was definitely necessary. 

The shower was amazing.

The cost of the bathroom alone was probably equivalent to everything I owned. I quickly washed my hair and scrubbed my skin, and I was letting myself out. After brushing through my hair and putting on the same clothes I felt like I had been wearing for years at this point, I was wandering into the hallway.

Amarantha hadn’t told me where they were waiting for me, and in a house this big, I wasn’t excited about looking for the right room. When I walked down the staircase, though, there was a group of men in suits, and I figured that I wouldn’t have to look too long.

“Feyre?”

I nodded, my reality settling in around me. I was about to get divorced. Divorced at twenty-one. What a fucking dream. 

“Follow me.”

Me. Although there were four of them in the group, he was clearly in charge. He was probably a few years younger than my dad, clearly full of himself, and obviously rich as hell. His suit was pristine, designer, his hair luscious and just trimmed and styled. 

“My name is Darren Hybern,” he said. “The band’s manager.”

I noticed he didn’t offer to shake my hand. “Feyre. Sorry I’m late.”

He smiled and his teeth were too white, too perfect. “It’s fine, not a problem at all.” His tone suggested differently.

He led us to a room by the front door, an office of sorts. There was a large table, the likes of which I’d only seen in boardrooms and interview scenes on tv and in movies. He gestured to the men, who’d sat down on one side of the table, a show of power in their impressive, immaculate suits. “Gentlemen, this is Ms. Archeron,” Hybern announced. “Jeffrey Baker, Bill Preston, and Ted Clark are Rhysand’s legal representatives. Why don’t you sit here, Feyre?”

He spoke slowly, as if I were a feeble-minded child. He pulled a chair out from the table for me directly opposite the team of legal eagles, then walked around to sit on their side. Wow, that sure told me. The lines had been drawn.

I rubbed my sweaty palms on the sides of my jeans and sat up straight, doing my best not to wilt beneath their hostile gazes. I could definitely do this. How hard could it be to get a divorce, after all?

“Ms. Archeron,” the one Hybern had identified as Ted started. He pushed a black leather folder full of papers toward me. “Mr. Lunasa asked us to draw up annulment papers. They’ll cover all issues, including details of your settlement from Mr. Lunasa.”

The size of the stack of papers before me was daunting. These people worked fast. “My settlement?”

“Yes,” Ted said. “Rest assured, Mr. Lunasa has been very generous.”

I shook my head in confusion. “I’m sorry. Wha—.”

“We’ll deal with that last,” Ted rushed on. “You’ll notice here that the document covers all conditions to be met by yourself. The main issues include your not speaking to any member of the press with regard to this matter. This is non-negotiable, I’m afraid. This condition remains in force until your death. Do you fully understand the requirement, Ms. Archeron? Under no circumstances may you talk to any member of the press regarding Mr. Lunasa in any way while you’re alive.”

“So I can talk to them after I die?” I asked with a weak little laugh. Ted was getting on my nerves. I guess I hadn’t gotten enough sleep after all.”

Ted bared his teeth. They weren’t nearly as impressive as Hybern’s. “This is a very serious matter, Ms. Archeron.”

“Feyre,” I said. “My name is Feyre, and I do realize the seriousness of this issue, Ted. I apologize for being flippant. But if we could get back to the part about the settlement? I’m a little confused.”

“Very well.” Ted looked down his nose at me and tapped a thick, gold pen on the paperwork in front of me. “As I said, Mr. Lunasa has been very generous.”

“No,” I said, not looking at the papers, “you don’t understand.”

Ted cleared his throat and looked down at me over the top of his glasses. “It would be unwise of you to try and press for more given the circumstances, Ms. Archeron. A six-hour marriage in Las Vegas entered into while you were both heavily under the influence of alcohol? Textbook grounds for annulment.”

Ted’s cronies tittered and I felt my face fire up. My need to accidentally kick the prick under the table grew and grew.

“My client will not be making another offer.”

“I don’t want him to make another offer,” I said, my voice rising.

“The annulment will go ahead, Ms. Archeron,” said Ted. “There is no question of that. There will be no reconciliation.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Ted sighed. “We need to finalize this today, Ms. Archeron.”

“I’m not trying to hold anything up, Ted.”

The other two lawyers watched me with distaste, backing up Ted with sleazy, knowing smiles. Nothing pissed me off faster than a bunch of people trying to intimidate someone.

Hybern gave me a big-toothed, faux-fatherly grin. “I’m sure Feyre can see how kind Rhys is being. There aren’t going to be any delays here, are there?”

These people, they blew my mind. Speaking of which, I had to wonder where my darling husband was. Too busy banging bikini models to turn up to his own divorce, the poor guy. I ran my fingers through my wet hair, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Trying to get my anger managed. “Wait—.”

“We all just want what’s best for you given the unfortunate situation,” Hybern continued, obviously lying through his big, bright teeth.

“Great,” I said, fingers fidgeting beneath the table. “That’s … that’s really great of you.”

“Please, Ms. Archeron.” Ted tapped his pen imperiously alongside a figure on the paperwork and I dutifully looked, though I didn’t want to.

There were lots of zeros. I mean, really a lot. It was insane. In two lifetimes I couldn’t earn that kind of money. Rhys must have wanted me gone something fierce. My stomach rumbled nervously but my puking days were over. The whole scene felt horrific, like something out of a bad movie or soap opera. The girl from the wrong side of the tracks hijacks the hot, rich guy and tricks him into marriage. Now all that was left was for him to use his people to chase me off into the sunset.

Well, he won.

“This was all just a mistake,” said Hybern. “I’m sure Feyre is every bit as keen to put it behind her as Rhys is. And with this generous financial settlement, she can move forward to a bright future.”

“You’ll also never attempt to make contact with Mr. Lunasa ever again, in any manner. Any attempt on your part to do so will see you in breach of contract.” Ted withdrew his pen, sitting back in his seat with a false smile and his hands crossed over his belly. “Is that clear?”

“No,” I said, scrubbing my face with my hands.

They actually thought I’d fall over myself to get that money. Money I’d done nothing to earn, no matter how tempting accepting it was. Of course, they also thought I’d sell my story to the press and harass Rhys every spare moment I got for the rest of my life. They thought I was cheap, trashy scum. “I think I can honestly say that nothing about this is clear.”

“Feyre, please.” Hybern gave me a disappointed look. “Let’s be reasonable.”

“I’ll tell you what…” I stood and retrieved the ring from my jeans pocket, tossing it onto the sea of paperwork. “You give this back to Rhys and tell him I don’t want any of it. None of this.” I gestured at them, the table, the papers, and the entire damn house. The lawyers looked nervously among themselves as if they’d need more paperwork before they could allow me to go waving my arms about in such a disorderly fashion.

“Feyre…”

“I don’t want to sell his story, or stalk him, or whatever else you have buried in subclause 98.2. I don’t want his money.”

Hybern coughed out a laugh. Fuck him. The phony bastard could think what he liked.

Ted frowned at my big sparkly ring lying innocently among the mess. “Mr. Lunasa didn’t mention a ring.”

“No? Well. Why don’t you tell Mr. Lunasa he can shove it wherever he feels it might best fit, Ted.”

“Ms. Archeron!” Ted stood, his puffy face outraged. “That is unnecessary.”

“Going to have to disagree with you there, Ted.” I bolted out of the dining room of death and made straight for the front door as fast as my feet could carry me. Immediate escape was the only answer. If I could just get the hell away from them long enough to catch my breath, I could come up with a new plan to deal with this ridiculous situation. I’d be fine.

A brand new black pickup truck pulled up as I tore down the front steps.

The window lowered to show my guide from last night, Cass, sitting in the driver’s seat. He smirked from behind black sunglasses, his hair tied at the back of his head. “Hey there, child bride.”

I threw a vulgar gesture in his direction and jogged down the long, winding driveway toward the front gates. Toward liberty and freedom and my old life, or whatever remained of it. If only I’d never gone to Vegas. If only I’d tried harder to convince Joey that a party at home would be fine, none of this would have happened. Gods, I was such an idiot. Why had I drunk so much?

“Feyre! Hold up.” Cass pulled up alongside me in his truck. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

I didn’t answer. I was done with all of them. That and I had the worst feeling I was about to cry, damn it. My eyes felt hot, horrible.

“Stop.” He pulled the brake and climbed out of the truck, running after me. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

I said nothing. I had nothing to say to any of them.

His hand wrapped around my arm gently, but I didn’t care. I swung at him. I’d never hit anyone in my life. Apparently, I wasn’t about to start now. He dodged my flying fist with ease.

“Whoa! Okay.” Cass danced back a step, giving me a wary look over the top of his shades. “You’re mad. I get it.”

Hands on hips, he looked back toward the house. Ted and Hybern stood on the front steps, staring after us. Even from this distance the dynamic duo did not appear happy. Evil bastards.

Cass hissed out a breath. “You’re fucking joking. He sicced that ball sucker Ted onto you?”

I nodded, blinking, trying to get myself under control.

“Did you have anyone with you?” he asked.

“No.”

He cocked his head. “Are you going to cry?”

“No!”

“Fuck. Come on.” He held out his hand to me and I stared at it in disbelief. “Feyre, think. There are photographers and shit waiting out front. Even if you get past them, where are you going to go?”

He was right. I had to go back, get my bag. So stupid of me not to have thought of it. Just as soon as I had myself under control I’d go in and retrieve it, then get the hell out of here. I fanned my face with my hands, took a big breath. All good.

Meanwhile, his hand hovered, waiting. There were a couple of small blisters on it, situated in the join between thumb and finger. Curious.

“Are you the drummer?” I asked with a sniff.

For some reason he cracked up laughing, almost doubling over, clutching at his belly. Maybe he was on drugs or something. Or maybe he was just one more lunatic in this gigantic asylum. Batman would have had a hard time keeping this place in check.

“What is your problem?” I asked, taking a step away from him. Just in case.

His snazzy sunglasses fell off, clattering on the asphalt. He swiped them up and shoved them back on his face.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a house at the beach. We’ll hide out there. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

I hesitated, giving the jerks on the front steps a lethal look. “Why would you help me?”

“Because you’re worth helping.”

“Oh, really? Why would you think that?”

“You wouldn’t like my answer.”

“I haven’t liked a single answer I’ve had all morning, why stop now?”

He smiled. “Fair enough. I’m one of Rhysand’s oldest friends. We’ve gotten drunk and out of control more times than I can remember. He’s had girls angling to snare him for years, even before we had money. He never was the slightest bit interested in marriage. It was never even on his radar before. So the fact that he married you, well, that suggests to me you’re worth helping. Come on, Feyre. Stop worrying.”

Easy for him to say, his life hadn’t been skewered by a rock star.

“I need to get my stuff.”

“And get cornered by them? Worry about it later.” He held his hand out, fingers beckoning for mine. “Let’s get out of here.”

I put my hand in his and we went.

—————————

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but the beach house we pulled up to wasn’t it. It was right on the water, the house lining the sand. It wasn’t as massive as the mansion we were just at, but it was pretty big. Much bigger than my parents’ house, anyways.

“What do you think?” Cassian asked, putting his car in drive in the driveway.

“It’s….nice,” I answered, at last, unsure of how to judge a house strictly from the outside. 

“Nice?” Cassian laughed. “This is my favorite place in the world...and you tell me that it’s nice?”

I laughed, purely because of his exasperated expression. “Well, I have to see the inside first.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged before helping himself out then walked up to the front door. I stayed close behind, afraid that the paparazzi would be hanging just around the corner. 

The inside was much more marvelous than the outside. It was simple but sleek and modern. Plenty of space surrounded me, and between that and the beach just outside the backdoor, I was growing calmer by the second.

As I admired the line of instruments lining the walls, I asked, “How many instruments can you actually play?” 

Cassian shrugged. “A few.”

I snorted. “Right.”

“What kind of music do you like?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

I shrugged. “A little bit of everything, mostly country.”

He groaned. “That’s, like, worst case music to like being married to a rock star. Do you even like hardcore?”

The smile I gave him as I walked into his living room was pained. “Sorry.”

Cassian’s house was clearly a bachelor pad/den of iniquity. I’d had a vague notion to make lunch to thank him for taking me in, but there wasn’t a single speck of food in the house. Beer filled the fridge and vodka the freezer. Oh, no, there was a bag of oranges used as wedges to go with shots of vodka, apparently. He’d ruled out touching those. Coffee, however, was something they both agreed was essential. After drinking three cups in the space of an hour, I felt a lot more like my old well-planned, caffeinated self.

Cass dialed for pizza and we watched TV late into the night. Mostly he found his joy in mocking my taste in pretty much everything: movies, music, the lot. At least he did it good-naturedly. We couldn’t go outside because a couple of photographers were waiting on the beach. I felt bad about it but he’d just shrugged it off.

This is my everyday life. It’s nothing new to me.

He paused on the country music channel as we were eating our pizza.

“What about this song?” he asked. “You like this?”

Miranda Lambert strode on screen in a cool ’50s frock and I grinned. “Miranda is a badass.”

“I’ve met her.”

I sat up straight. “Really?”

He chuckled. “You’re impressed I’ve met Miranda Lambert but you didn’t even know who I was. Honestly, woman, you are hard on the ego.”

“I saw the gold and platinum records lining the hallway, buddy. I’m thinking you can take it.”

He snorted. “Can’t you at least pretend to worship me?”

I bite into another slice of pizza. “Nope. Sorry.”

With a scoff, Cassian began to surf through the channels. Football, home shopping, Jeopardy!, and me. My face on tv.

“Wait,” I said.

He groaned. “Not a good idea.”

“No, just…” I held up a hand, and that seemed to have do it. He didn’t change the channel anymore, but I was fully aware that he was watching me.

The reporter showed up on the screen, talking about everything and nothing in between. I couldn’t help but try and grasp the concept of what she was saying, although the words really didn’t sink in. 

“Rhysand Lunasa’s new wife-.”

“Is that all I’m going to be seen as from now on?” I muttered, not really sure if I said it outloud or not. “Rhysand Lunasa’s new wife?”

Cassian didn’t respond. Or, maybe he did and I just didn’t hear him. The footage of me at the airport streamed across the screen and I frowned. I looked so scared, so off guard, so nervous. And I was, that wasn’t the point, but I figured the first time I would ever be on t.v. would be because of a great accomplishment, not because I was accidentally married to a rockstar. 

Cassian rested a hand on my shoulder and I looked at him. “Rhys is the favorite, darlin’. He’s pretty, plays guitar, and writes the songs. Girlies faint when he walks by. Team that with your being a young ’un and you’ve got the news of the week.”

“I’m twenty-one.”

“And he’s twenty-six. It’s enough of a difference if they hype it just right.” Cass sighed. “Face it, child bride. You got married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator to one of rock ’n’ roll’s favorite sons. It was always bound to cause a shitstorm. Given there’s also been some crap going on with the band lately… What with Tamlin partying like it’s 1999 and Rhys losing his music-writing mojo. Well, you get the picture. But next week, someone else will do something wacky and all the attention will move on.”

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I know so. People are constantly fucking up. It’s a glorious thing.” He sat back and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “Now smile for Uncle Cass, cause like I said, this will all blow over in a week or so. You know you want to.”

I smiled halfheartedly.

“That’s a bullshit smile and I’m ashamed of you. You’re not going to fool anyone with that. Try again.”

I tried harder, smiling till my cheeks hurt.

“Damn. Now you just look like you’re in pain.”

Banging on the front door interrupted our merriment.

Cass raised his brows at me. “Wondered how long he’d take.”

“What?” I trailed him to the front door, lurking behind a divider just in case it was more press.

He opened the door and Rhys charged in, face tight and furious.

“You piece of shit. You better not have touched her. Where is she?”

“The child bride is otherwise occupied.” Cass cocked his head, taking Rhys in with a cool glance. “Why the fuck do you even care?”

“Don’t start with me. Where is she?”

Calmly, Cassian shut the door and turned to face his friend. I hesitated, hanging back around the corner.

Cass crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You left her to face Hybern and three lawyers on her own. You, my friend, are most definitely the piece of shit in this particular scenario.”

“I didn’t know Darren would go at her with all that.”

“You didn’t know because you didn’t want to know,” said Cass . “Lie to everyone else out there, Rhys. Not me. And sure as fuck not to yourself.”

“Back off.”

Cassian sighed. “You need some serious life advice, friend.”

“Who are you, Oprah?”

Coughing out a laugh, Cass slumped against the wall. “Hell, yeah. Soon I’m gonna be giving out cars, so stick around.”

“What did she say?”

“Who, Oprah?” 

Rhysand just scowled at him. He didn’t even notice me spying. Sad to say, even a scowling Rhys was a thing of rare beauty. He did things to me. Complicated things. My heart tripped about in my chest. The anger and emotion in his voice couldn’t be concern for me. That made no sense, not after last night and this morning. I had to be projecting, and it sucked that I even wanted him to care. My head made no sense. Getting away from this guy was the safest option all round. “Rhys, she was so upset she took a swing at me.

“Bullshit.”

“I kid you not. She was nearly in tears when I found her,” said Cass.

I banged my forehead in silent agony against the wall. Why the hell did Cassian have to tell him that?

My husband hung his head. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Seems you didn’t mean for a shitload to happen.” Cass shook his head and tutted. “Did you even mean to marry her, dude? Seriously?”

Rhysand’s face screwed up, his brow doing the wrinkly James Dean thing again. “I don’t know anymore, okay? Fuck. I went to Vegas because I was so sick of all this shit, and I met her. She was different. She seemed different that night. I just… I wanted something outside of all this fucking idiocy for a change.”

Cassian pouted. “Poor Rhysie. Did being a rock god get old?”

“Where is she?”

“I feel your pain, bro. Really, I do. I mean, all you wanted was a girl who wouldn’t kiss your ass for once and now you’re pissed at her for the same damn reason. It’s complicated, right?”

“Fuck you. Leave it alone, Cass. It’s done.” My husband huffed out a breath. “Anyway, she’s the one who wanted the fucking divorce. Why aren’t you giving her the third degree, huh?”

With a dramatic sigh, Cass gestured towards me. “Because she’s really busy hiding around the corner, listening. I can’t disturb her now.”

Rhysand’s body stilled and his blue eyes found me. “Feyre.”

Huh. Busted.

I stepped away from the wall and tried to put on a happy face. It didn’t work. “Hi.”

“She says that so well.” Cass turned to me and winked. “So did you really ask the mighty Rhysand Lunasa for a divorce?”

“She threw up on me when I told her we were married,” my husband reported.

“What?” Cass dissolved into laughter, tears leaking from his eyes. “Are you serious? Fucking hell, that is fantastic. Oh, man, I wish I’d been there.”

I gave Rhys what I hoped to be the meanest look in all of time and space. He stared back, unimpressed.

“It was the floor,” I clarified. “I didn’t throw up on him.”

“That time,” said Rhys.

“Please keep going,” said Cass, laughing harder than ever. “This just gets better and better.”

Rhys didn’t. Thank God.

“Seriously, I fucking love your wife, man. She’s awesome. Can I have her?”

The look I got from Rhys spoke of a much more reluctant affection. With the line between his brows, it was closer to outright irritation. I blew him a kiss. He looked away, hands fisted like he was barely holding himself back from throttling me. The feeling was entirely mutual.

Ah, marital bliss.

“You two are just the best.” A chiming sound came from Cassian’s pocket and he pulled out a cell phone. Whatever he saw on the screen stopped his laughter dead. “You know, you should take her to your house,man.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rhysand’s mouth pulled wide in a truly pained expression. I didn’t think it was a good idea either. I’d happily go through life without setting foot inside the house of horrors ever again. Maybe if I asked Cassian nicely he’d fetch my stuff for me. Imposing on him further didn’t appeal, but I was running low on options.

“Whoa.” With a grim face, Cass shoved his cell at Rhys. 

“Fuck,” Rhys mumbled. He wrapped his hand around the back of his neck and squeezed. The worried glance he gave me from beneath his dark brows set every alarm ringing inside my head. Whatever was on that screen was bad. Really bad.

“What is it?” I asked. “Oh, you, ah… you don’t need to worry about it.” His gaze dropped to the phone again, then he passed it back to Cass. “My place would be cool, actually. We should do that. Fun. Yeah.”

“No.” For Rhysand to be so nice to me it had to be something truly bad. I held out my hand, fingers twitching from impatience or nerves or a bit of both. “Show me.”

Rhysand didn’t budge. “It’s not important.”

“Show me,” I snapped.

Cassian frowned as he looked at Rhysand. Rhys, on the other hand, was staring daggers at his bandmate, his friend. 

He handed the phone to me.

My cheeks instantly heated as I glanced down at the picture on Cassian’s phone, the picture that was all over the web. 

I was looking at a picture of the tattoo of Rhysand’s name on my ass, a picture that I didn’t even know had been taken. 

I tensed, my heart falling into my stomach. It couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense. I had no idea how it had happened, and the thought of a picture of my asscheek ending up all over the internet had me ready to puke.

“Excuse me,” I breathed, shoving the phone into Cassian’s chest. The second he took it, I was hauling ass down the hallway, into the bathroom, where I slammed the door shut behind me.

I locked it and sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi, trying to slow my breathing, trying to be calm. There was nothing I could do. The picture was already out there. This was no death and dismemberment. It was a stupid picture of me in a compromising position showing more skin than I liked. But so what? Big deal. Accept it and move on. Despite the fact that everyone I knew would likely see it. Worse things had happened in the history of the world. I just needed to put it in context and stay calm.

“Feyre?” Rhys tapped lightly on the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” No. Not really.

“Let me in?” I gave the door a pained look. “Please.”

Slowly, I stood and flicked the lock. Rhysand wandered in and shut the door behind him. No slicked back, styled hair today. His dark hair hung down, framing his face on one side. He had three small silver earrings in one ear playing peekaboo behind his hair. I stared at them because meeting his eyes was out of the question. I was not going to cry. Not about this. What the hell was even wrong with my eyes lately? Letting him in had been dumb.

With a heavy frown he stared down at me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, it is. I should have looked after you better.”

“No, Rhys.” I swallowed hard. “We were both drunk. God, this is all so horrifically, embarrassingly stupid.”

He just stared at me.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, you’re allowed to be upset. That was a private moment. It shouldn’t be out there. We were in a private room. This should never have happened, but people get offered a lot of money for this sort of thing.”

I nodded, knowing this sort of thing happened to them all the time. He must have thought I was having a meltdown for no reason. “Can I… can I see it again?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Not really.” I chuckled, but there was no humor in the words. They sounded slightly unhinged.

Rhys handed me his phone regardless.

The image I was looking at this time was a different angle, more zoomed out, but there could be no doubting what it was, even on the small screen. There was a lot of skin on account of my being bare from the waist down. My naked butt sat front and center in all its pale glory. The party dress had been pushed up and I stood, bent over a table while a tattoo artist worked hard inking my rear. My panties had been cinched down, barely covering the basics.

At the other end of the frame, our faces were close together and Rhysand was smiling. Huh. So that was what he looked like when he smiled

I remembered it then, the buzz of the needle, and him talking to me, holding my hands. At first, that needle had stung. “You were pretending to bite my fingers. The tattoo artist got mad at us for messing around.”

Rhys tipped his chin. “Yeah. You were supposed to be keeping still.”

I nodded, trying to remember more but coming up empty.

I blinked, trying my damndest to keep my chin from wobbling but I knew I was about to have another round of tears. “Rhys, I- I’d really like to be alone for a few minutes…”

He made a growly noise and suddenly his arms wrapped around me, pulling me in against him. He caught me off guard and I stumbled, my nose bumping into his chest. It hurt. But he smelled good. Clean, male, and good. Familiar. Some part of me remembered being this close to him and it was comforting. Something in my mind said “safe.” But I couldn’t remember how or why.

A hand moved restlessly over my back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “so fucking sorry.”

The kindness was too much. Stupid tears flowed.

“I’d hardly even shown anyone my ass and now it’s all over the Internet.”

“I know, baby.” He rested his head against the top of mine, holding on tight as I blubbered into his T-shirt. Having someone to hold on to helped. It would be okay. Deep down I knew it would be. But right then I couldn’t see my way clear. Standing there with his arms around me felt right.

I don’t know when we started swaying. Rhys rocked me gently from side to side as if we were dancing to some slow song. The overwhelming temptation to stay like that with my face pressed into his shirt was what made me step back, pull myself together. His hands sat lightly on my hips, the connection not quite broken.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Of course.” The front of his shirt had a damp patch, thanks to me.

“Your shirt’s all wet.”

He shrugged.

I ugly-cried. It was a gift of mine. The mirror confirmed it, demon-red eyes and flushed fluoro-pink cheeks. With an awkward smile I stepped away from him, and his hands fell back to his sides. I splashed my face with water and dried it on a towel while he stood idly by, frowning.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he said.

“Really?” I gave him a dubious look. Rhysand and me alone? Given the marriage situation and our previous sober encounters, it didn’t seem the wisest plan.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together, getting all enthused. “Just you and me. We’ll get out of here for a while.”

“Rhys, like you said out there, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You want to stay in LA?” he scoffed.

“Look, you’ve been really sweet since you stepped through that door. Well, apart from telling Cass about me puking on you. That was unnecessary. But in the preceding twenty-four hours you dumped me alone in a room, went off with a groupie, accused me of trying to get it on with your bandmate, and sicced your posse of lawyers onto me.”

He said nothing.

“Not that you going off with a groupie is any of my business. Of course.”

He turned on his heel and paced to the other end of the bathroom, his movements tight, angry. Despite it being five times the size of the one back home, it still didn’t leave enough room for a showdown like this. And he was between me and the door. Because suddenly exiting seemed like a smart move.

“I just asked them to sort out the paperwork,” he said.

“And they sure did.” I put my hands on my hips, standing my ground. “I don’t want any of your money.”

“I heard.” His face was carefully blank. My statement prompted in him none of the disbelief or mockery it had in the suited bullies. Lucky for him. I doubt he believed me, but at least he was willing to pretend. “They’re drawing up new papers.”

“Good.” I stared him down. “You don’t have to pay me off. Don’t make assumptions like that. If you want to know something, ask. And I was never going to sell the story to the press. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Okay.” He slumped against the wall, leaning his head back to stare up at nothing. “Sorry,” he told the ceiling. I’m sure the plasterwork appreciated it immensely. When I made no response, his gaze eventually found me. It had to be wrong, or at the very least immoral, to be so pretty. Normal people didn’t stand a chance. My heart took a dive every time I looked at him. No, a dive didn’t cover it. It plummeted.

Where was Joey to tell me I was being melodramatic when I needed her most?

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” he repeated. “I know the last twenty-four hours have been shit. Offering to get out of here for a while was my way of trying to make things better.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And also for coming in here to check on me.”

“No problem.”

He stared at me, eyes unguarded for once. And the honesty in his gaze changed things for me, the brief flash of something more. Sadness or loneliness, I don’t know. A kind of weariness that was there and gone before I could understand. But it left its mark. There was a lot more to this man than a pretty face and a big name. I needed to remember that and not make my own assumptions.

“You really want to go?” I asked. “Really?”

His eyes were bright with amusement. “Why not?”

I gave him a cautious smile.

“We can talk over whatever we need to, just you and me. I need to make a couple of calls, then we’ll head off, okay?”

I nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

With a parting nod, he opened the door and strode back out. He and Cass talked quietly about something in the living room. I took the opportunity to wash my face once more and finger comb my hair.

“Give me the keys to the truck,” said Rhys, squaring off against Cass. 

He winced. “I was joking about giving away cars.”

“Come on. Quit bitching. I rode over on the bike and I don’t have a helmet for her.”

“Fine.” With a sour face, Cassian dropped his car keys into Rhysand’s outstretched hand. “But only ’cause I like your wife. Not a scratch, you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rhys turned and saw me.

A hint of a smile curled his lips. Except for that first day on the bathroom floor, I’d never seen him smile, never even seen him come close. This bare trace of one made me light up inside. My knees wobbled. That couldn’t be normal. I shouldn’t be feeling all warm and happy just because he was. I couldn’t afford to have any feelings for him at all. Not if I wanted to get out of this in one piece.

“Thanks for putting up with me today, Cass,” I said.

“The pleasure was all mine,” he drawled. “Sure you wanna go with him, child bride? This prick makes you cry. I make you laugh.”

Rhysand’s smile disappeared and he strode to my side. His hand sat lightly against the base of my spine, warm even through the layer of clothing. “We’re out of here.”

Cassian grinned and winked at me.

“Where are we going?” I asked Rhys.

“Does it matter? Let’s just drive.”

[mmvalentine]

Home is Where You Are pt 3 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. CW: abusive relationships. Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

The next time Rhys saw Feyre was at the wake.

Back in his apartment, Rhys tried to settle into his normal routine. But the idea of having Feyre back in his life was intoxicating, after having imagined it for so long. He tried to concentrate hard on his work in order to prevent him from texting her everyday. Especially because it turned out that in the city, the did not live far from each other at all.

A few days later, Rhys put on a black suit and went to Feyre and Tamlin's apartment. She looked so tired, with black circles under her lovely eyes and a slight tremor in her hands. The fluttery feeling he had had in anticipation of seeing her again was replaced by a solemn concern.

Feyre met him at the door. She smiled at him, and clasped his arms. Rhys searched her eyes, questioningly. "I'm okay," she said quietly. "Don't spend too long with just one person," Tamlin said to her. "Make sure to greet all the guests." Rhys rolled his eyes. "Do whatever the hell you want," he whispered, once Tamlin had walked away.

After the service, through which Nesta and Elain did very little and everything seemed to fall to Feyre, the people fanned out through the small apartment. Rhys found Feyre sitting in the walk-in pantry.

He had gone looking for a glass for get some water, and now shut the door behind him before sitting down next to her.

"Okay?" he asked. "Yeah. Just tired." Feyre leaned her head back against a shelf. "Have you eaten today?" "Not much appetite." "Do you want me to tell you stories about your dad?" Feyre smiled. "Yes." "Okay. I haven't told anyone this before, and it's a sort of heavy story. But did you know my dad used to keep a baseball bat by the door. Self-defence, he said, in case of home invaders.

"Well, this one time he was going off at me, you know, really laying into me. And your dad, every so often, when my old man was just shouting the whole house down, would knock on the front door at an opportune moment. Sometimes it would just break his rhythm, and that was enough to stop the screaming. And usually your dad would make up some excuse and then leave again.

"Anyway this particular time, my dad had the bat in his hands when your dad knocked. He opens the door, and spits what in your dad's face. I remember so clearly, your dad's going from my dad's face, to the bat, to me behind him. And then he says, 'You know I think there were some teenagers scrabbling around my porch last night. And I've been thinking I should get myself some protection.' And my dad says, 'that's the problem with you lot, you're soft and they know it.' 'well,' says your dad, 'I've got four women in the house and they suddenly feel unprotected. Do you think you could give me a hand?' and next thing I know, my dad's handing over the baseball bat. 'Hold onto this for now,' he says, 'then get yourself a decent rifle.' Then your dad left and he had to whack me with a newspaper roll instead.

"The point is, I'm pretty sure on more than one occasion your dad saved my ass. And I'll always be grateful."

Feyre stared at him. "I didn't know he used to go over there," she said. "Not sure I'd be here if he didn't," Rhys responded. "At least, I wouldn't be nearly this pretty." He grinned at her, and Feyre laughed. The sound of it released some of the tension in Rhys' stomach, and he leaned over and kissed Feyre on the cheek.

A few weeks later, Feyre came around to Rhys' neighbourhood. She had agreed to design something for a campaign Rhys was working on, and they decided to meet at his place to discuss the brief. Over the past fortnight, it had been the perfect excuse to be able to talk to her.

What are you making at the moment? he had texted her. Ugh, nothing, she replied. I've had no inspiration since my last show ended. Maybe you just need some better source material, Rhys wrote. You could always paint me, if you like. Har har, Feyre wrote back. Don't flirt with an almost married woman. Sorry, Rhys texted back. I do it with no hope or agenda. But seriously, if you like working toward things, my company is looking for an artist for an upcoming project, I could throw your name in if you'd like. I'm not in charge of who they pick but I think they'd love you. That would be amazing! Feyre said.

And then they had loved her, not surprising Rhys at all after years of following her on social media. So he picked up the brief and invited her over.

Rhys had torn around his place all evening, trying to get it to look the right balance of homely and inviting, and immaculate. Ridculous, he told himself, trying to impress an engaged woman. Still, even if she wasn't interested in him romantically, he still cared about her opinion.

Finally there was a knock at his door, and Rhys tried not to throw it open too enthusiastically. But when he saw her, the smile fell from his face.

"Feyre," he said. "I... come in." He stood aside, and Feyre smiled. She looked awful. The bags under her eyes that Rhys had attributed to her father's funeral were somehow worse, and she had definitely lost weight.

"Thanks," Feyre said. "How are you?" "I'm... good, how are you? Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine." "Okay, you look..." he trailed off. "Are you sure you're okay?" Feyre brushed him off with a laugh. "Yes mother hen, I'm good. So tell me about this project."

Rhys led her to the couch, and looked sidelong at her. If she didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to push her. "I was going to order some food first, what do you feel like for dinner?" he said. But Feyre shook her head. "Nothing for me. Tamlin has me on this cleanse, says it's good for stress." She pulled out a bottle of green-brown liquid and took a long drink. Rhys watched her, and held his tongue.

"Okay," he said. "Well I'm going to get some pizza and if you decide you're hungry you can have some." "Sure, whatever," Feyre said. "Now tell me about this project! I'm so excited, when they reached out to me they only gave me this really vague outline."

So they sat and talked about work, and even though her face was gaunt and her skin a little sallow, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about her ideas made Rhys' heart squeeze. If he could just make her a tiny bit happy, that'd be enough.

Over the next couple of months they exchanged texts and emails, mostly about work, but sometimes about life, too.

Nesta's a pain in my ass, she wrote once. Nesta's a pain in everyone's ass, Rhys replied. Hadn't seen the woman in a decade and when I asked her how she was at the funeral she said 'oh you're back' and then walked away.

Rhys I'm giving up on this project, I quit, she sent another time. Tamlin says what I've made won't resonate with the modern audience, but I don't have any other ideas and I can't bear to start again. We didn't pick Tamlin out of twenty applying artists, we picked you, Rhys wrote back. And personally, I fucking love it as it is. If you change it you're fired.

And then one day, The house sold. I can't believe it's really happening. Congratulations, Rhys said. That's great news. It went for more than I expected, Feyre said. Then, I guess I'll have to go back down and get all that stuff out before the new owners move in. Want company? Very much.

This time, Rhys drove. He picked Feyre up at her place, and his knuckles went white on the steering wheel with effort not to comment on how she had lost even more weight, and her beautiful honey hair looked dull and lank around her face.

"Hello, Feyre darling," he said as she climbed into the car. "How have you been?" "Just fine Rhys dear, and you?" "Good," Rhys said carefully. "That Tamlin treating you okay?" Feyre made a face. "He's pretty stressed out lately. He finds it difficult to work with new people, so I've been modelling for some of his advertising stuff. You know how it is, running your own business." "Sure..." Rhys said. "And... is there a certain... aesthetic they stick to?" Feyre frowned. "Of course, he's a personal trainer." "Okay..." "So are we going to drive or are you going to ask weird questions all day?" "Sorry ma'am, right away ma'am," Rhys said, flicking his sunglasses onto his face and pulling out of his driveway. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Feyre. She was slumped in her seat, and had started to chew on the nails of her left hand.

"Welcome to Archeron Airlines," Rhys said, in his best pilot voice. "My name is Rhys and I'l be your captain for the day, on behalf of us all here thank your for flying Archeron."

Feyre stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"It's a fine day for flying, the weather looks good and minimal turbulence is expected. We are cruising at an altitude of 0.75 feet, your expected fight time is four hours."

"It's six actually," Feyre corrected, the corner of her mouth pulling up. "I know," Rhys said, leaning toward her conspiratorially. "But I drive like a maniac."

Feyre laughed out loud then, and Rhys' heart glowed in his chest. He could do this. He could make her laugh all the way to Velaris St, and make those frown lines disappear. If only he could see her everyday, he thought. If only he could make sure she was okay.

Because she wasn't saying anything, but he was so sure this had something to do with Tamlin.

****

I was going to try keep this very separate from COD but also I want to get the heavy angst out of the way. Because you guys, I promise this one gets so sweet and fluffy if you can just stick with me a little longer.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira

[inkandpen22]

Beautiful Angel of Darkness (3/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader 

Warning: mild violence (basically nothing), mentions of smut 

Word Count: 1.2k

Part Summary: Buffy discovers that Y/N is a vampire. The discovery scares the Scoobies which is exactly what Y/N was hoping for. After they return to the crypt, Spike reveals something to her. 

A/N: The scene from gif between Dru and Spike inspired a portion of this part because that bit in the show is just so iconic! I mean... look at him! Haha 

Masterlist

“You’re a vampire!” Buffy gasps, her eyes tighten as if she’s seen a ghost. 

“Oh way to go Slayer! Ten points Gryffindor!” I tease, unable to withhold my laughter. 

She clenches her jaw. “Did Spike do this to you?” 

“No, it was Count von Count from Sesame Street,” I sass. “Um yeah, duh! For being older you’re not exactly wiser.” 

Her brows scrunch together, my words visibly capturing her attention. “How old you are you?” 

“Again, where are your manners?! Don’t you know you never ask a woman her age!” I remind her a matter-of-factly. 

“Can we stop with the chitter-chatter? I’m getting thirsty,” Spike groans from the sidelines. 

I tilt my head to the side with a pout. “Do we eat her?” 

“As if,” the Slayer grumbles. Then, she kicks me aggressively in the stomach, causing me to fly back into the far brick building. 

I fall to the pavement with a smack. It takes a minute for me to process what just happened. Then, I grow fucking pissed! I hop up to my feet and check my clothes. A massive black boot mark on my brand new shirt! Now on her feet, Buffy catches her breath. 

I scoff, stretching out my shirt to show her. “This is fucking new you bitch!” A growl forms deep in my chest as I see nothing but red. I march over to the Slayer and she squares up to fight. 

“Buffy!” An annoying high-pitch voice squeals. That must be Willow. 

Sure enough, Buffy’s Scoobie gang jocks out of the club to assist her. 

“Stay back guys! She isn’t human like we thought!” She warns. 

“No, she’s not,” I point, pretending to feel really bad about it. 

Spike appears beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist with a cheeky grin. I reach up and place a quick peck to his cheek. 

“You turned her, Spike!” Xander shouts, apparently rather crossed about the whole thing. 

“Can you blame a man?” He defense, peering down at me with longing eyes. 

I bite down at my lip as my eyes linger on his cherry red ones. Spike’s hand slips down my waist and he gives my ass a nice squeeze. If we weren’t in the presence of such terrible company, I would take him right here. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Xander grumbles to his friends. 

Spike and I turn our attention to the group, our cheeks against each other as we smile. How could mere humans ever understand what Spike and I have? We’re far too complex for their simple minds. It’s all encompassing and it replaces our souls. Spike is my reason for existing and I’m his in return. 

Spike caresses my cheek and places a gentle kiss to my temple. “Should we go, Love? I think we’ve over stayed our welcome.” 

I brush my hand against his jawline, starring into his compelling eyes with a mischivious grin. “Anything you wish, Darling.” 

He growls, a wicked grin appearing on his lips and I can feel the vibration from his chest. “You know I love it when you talk like that.” 

I snicker, eager to get back to the crypt and experience everything has to offer. I can never get enough of him. He’s the greatest addiction in the world that never be satisfied. 

___________________________________________________

Spike and I lay in bed, catching our breath from our many rounds of amazing fucking after we got back from The Bronze. The silk red sheet barely covers us from the outside world. As I relax with my head on my crisscrossed arms beside him, Spike props himself up on his arm and faces me. He leans down, placing a gentle kiss to my shoulder blade. Gently, he begins to trace random shapes on my back. 

“Let’s play a game, Love,” he suggests. 

I smile, “okay.” 

“I will write out words on your perfect skin,” he explains slowly, planting another kiss to my spin. “And you will guess what it is.” He adds, placing a kiss to my waist. 

I giggle, “okay.” 

Spike starts tracing letters onto my back and I do my best to focus. I also cheat by using my knowledge of Spike to make an educated guess. 

“Moon,” I guess. 

“Excellent,” he compliments. “That earns you a kiss.” 

He leans down and reach up to meet his lips halfway. He smiles into the kiss and I can’t help but mirror the reaction. We part and he continues on with the next word once I’m laying down again. 

I hum, I have two thoughts. “Blood,” I guess, biting my lip nervously. 

“So smart,” he leans down and plants a kiss to my lips. 

“Thank you,” I say against his lips. “I try.” 

We part and I rest my head back down on my arms. Spike lingers for a moment to think of a word as he taps his finger against his lips. When one pops into his head, his finger starts to glide across my skin. Oh, this is a long one. 

I try to focus on the movement of his finger so I don’t miss any lines. “Could you do it again?” 

He complies and repeats the lines. I press my lips together, starring absentmindedly at the far wall. I’m not sure how many words start with ‘I’. 

Infringe 

Ingenious 

Inimical 

But it’s an IL word. 

I hum, struggling to figure it out. Spike snicker beside me, enjoying my struggle. I playfully swat the arm that keeps him up, which only makes him laugh harder at my expense.

“Okay, one more time,” he so kindly does it again. 

I huff, growing slightly frustrated that I’m missing it and losing my streak. An IL word, how hard can it be? 

“Is it a phrase?” I question aggresively. It’s the one solution. 

He hums, a mischivious smirk appearing on his lips. 

To help me figure it out, I begin to name the letters out loud. 

“I, L, O, V...” I stop saying them, but Spike continues writing out the letters. 

Slowly, I turn onto my side and Spike’s hand slides to my waist. A faint smile remains on his lips as he brings his fingers to my temple and brushes my hair back. His eyes search my face with such admiration. 

“I love you,” he reveals quietly between us. 

A breathless laugh escapes my lips as I leap to wrap my arms around him. He falls onto the bed with laughter. I climb on top of him, utterly exploding with happiness. “You love me?!” 

He snickers, amused by my reaction. “Don’t believe me?” He sits up, resting against the headboard and grips my waist. “Yes, Y/N, I love you! I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you!” 

I cup his face, pressing my lips to his. I can’t help but smile against the kiss. I want to make this moment last forever. I break away, realizing I haven’t said it back yet. 

“Oh! I love you too! I love you so much!” I rush out. 

He smiles brightly, “I was hoping you would.” 

His hand wraps around the back of my neck and he brings me in for a gentle kiss. I’ve fallen under his spell, he’s utterly immaculate. Every moment with him is magical. I want to make up for every minute we spent apart before we met. As long as Spike’s mine, nothing bad can ever happen to us. 

We rest our foreheads against one another, starring each other’s eyes. 

“From now until forever,” he promises me. 

“Forever,” I repeat the vow, meaning it wholeheartedly. 

God, I love him so much. My entire world is him. He’s the sun, the moon, everything. I will love him for eternity. 

___________________________________

Masterlist 

Tags: @currently-obsesed-with-spike​ @mx-pibbles​ @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard​

[emilbecker]

—  SELF PARA,  2019 CHARITY GALA.

marcus and emil meet for the first time. featuring jessica reyes & marcus reyes.

to both their reliefs, there had never been reason to meet. the two knew of each other, to emil, he sees a rich man with no heart, and no real desire to be liked. marcus sees someone with a little too much to prove, overcompensating. but for what, he hasn't cared to figure out. 

it's through jessica that they meet. a charity gala that marcus dreads, but when has he ever not put on a brave face? marcus endures time wasting and frankly mind numbing circle jerking and chatting, mostly at his sister's vivacious side. without jessica to whisper amused judgements to as they move from group to group, marcus would be spending far more time in a bathroom smoking. it's the next group that makes his interest take a sharp dive. jessica speaks excitedly about emil becker, but more so their twin, penny. a name that's made its way into marcus' conscience on more than one occasion. 

but it's emil who's most displeased about the two figures approaching, one considerably more so than the other. emil turns to penny with a laugh, effortlessly making his shit talking look like nothing of note at all. against his twin's ear, they whisper, “fucking pray for me, fuck this guy.” penny manages an equally unassuming laugh and shows off her mastered art of elbowing them without being noticed by anyone else. emil in turn, holds back a reaction to keep for later. maybe they'll mess up the letters on penny's fridge door next time they're over. 

becker's and reyes' meet and two very different things happen. penny and jessica embrace and immediately their conversation turns to their outfits. emil and marcus however, are two fortresses in each other's way. marcus doesn't want to engage for jessica's sake, and emil for penny's (and their reputation for being the friendliest one in the room). there are far more traits shared than either would like to face: the violence; the manipulation; the lying. it's the worst of themselves that they share, but swimming around with all that horror, is their shared will. 

but only one of them knows the full extent. 

marcus faces death with arrogance, and it won't be his last time. the two exchange firm handshakes and bright smiles while their sisters forget their existence. it feels like a personal attack to emil, making a note to hide all the letters on penny's fridge for dumping him with marcus fucking reyes. rationality says penny couldn't be held accountable when she doesn't know the extent of marcus' crimes, but the sibling bond pushes rationality harshly to the side.

“wonderful to finally meet you!” emil lies, “marcus, isn't it?” emil sees the serpents grin they're met with for what it is.

“pleasure's mine, emil. i'm a big fan of your work,” marcus lies. in reality, emil is a bug who makes too much noise, and if that noise begins to follow marcus, he'll gladly crush the nation's darling under his heel.

can't say the same for you. emil grins with a modest and tolerable pride, but lets the faintest hint of condescension cling to his next words. “thanks. i love your jacket, who designed it?” intuition tells emil that marcus wouldn't appreciate them reaching for the intricately jeweled jacket and feeling over the patterns, so they do it. 

“oh, it's balmain,” marcus responds through razor sharp, gritted teeth. the contact isn't appreciated but marcus doesn't allow himself to react other than let his sinister smile bloom.

 “oh, balmain. didn't they put blackface on the runway this year? anyway, penny, are you seeing this?” emil calls over his shoulder, “i want a jacket like this.” penny shoots him a smile that emil knows the real meaning of, i'll make you something better. “really suits you, though, marcus,” even there, there's a hint of what can only be disgust. perhaps not even the immaculate emil becker can keep his contempt for people like marcus reyes at bay, at least not while anyone else is watching. 

“that's very kind of you, emil, but please, the flattery isn't necessary,” he says graciously, hiding an avalanche of annoyance behind it, “but to contradict myself, really must commend you on the zuckerberg interview. you really fillited him like a fish.” he forces amusement on his features, eliciting an animated laugh from emil who throws their head back before their hand catches marcus' shoulder again. get the fuck off me.

“you have no idea how fun that was. this is top secret but i had to slip in a few questions that weren't ‘agreed upon’. makes for great tv, y'know.” emil's wink only proves to grate him further. 

“your secret's safe with me, becker,” marcus teases with a smooth drawl, meanwhile trying to catch jessica's attention to give her the look of i'm tired of these people, let's move on please, but he doesn't catch her. is she avoiding his eyes on purpose?

“good man. oh! you're ravi's husband, aren't you? his style is really something else, i've not had that much fun talking about fashion with someone in years. will you tell him that? i didn't catch a way to contact him last time we bumped into each other. truly impeccable taste, that one. and i guess you, too.” another wink shows itself and marcus wants to rip it from emil's pretty features. “or i can save you the relaying and tell him myself,” emil suggests, pulling their phone from their bag with a smile marcus swears is patronising. 

“why don't you give me your number and i'll pass it onto ravi?” marcus proposes sweetly, but emil sees the possessiveness, and it makes his already low opinion of marcus sink further. 

“if you wanted my number, mr reyes, all you had to do is ask.” with a smirk, emil leaves his number in marcus' phone, not at all betting that it'll make its way to the intended recipient. and he's right. marcus will delete the smug talk show host's number in the car ride home.

finally, the sisters break away and relief washes over marcus and emil. marcus shoots jessica a quick look of how could you leave me with them for so long? while emil is relieved to have penny paying attention to him again. 

“it was lovely meeting you, marcus. jess, it's a pleasure as always. we should go talk to my bosses, tryin' to drag this one on the show some day,” he says, nodding at penny, “send ravi my love!” with an air kiss blown to both reyes', the becker twins take their leave.

“don't leave me with him ever again. i mean it,” marcus grumbles as he and jess move in the opposite direction.

[nctsiren]

🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️🖊️ PLEASE 🥺 I need more of my girls 🥺

SINCE YOU SENT FIVE 🖊 I GUESS I’LL DO FIVE FOR EVIE AND FIVE FOR HYEYOUNG HEHE :)))

taglist: @aqueenieme @moonbeamsung @atinygracie @jinsoulorbitzen12 @btshook @1-800-enhypenbibi

HYEYOUNG

hyeyoung is the maternal nurturing figure nd we all know that BUT she’s also the biggest squishiest baby on the planet. all of the other 26 members think she’s adorable and want to protect her at all costs. she’s just PURE. just as taeil is respected/admired by the group, she is as well- and some of the guys get very protective of her out of the blue (they’re protective of all of the girls, but with hyeyoung it’s like they’re protecting their momma). she’s also super bubbly and funny when you get to know her!

BUT if we get into flaws, hyeyoung does have some bad ones. everyone does, we’re human. she can be WAY too passive at times. she lets people walk all over her (unless it’s those she’s VERY close with) and is BAD at standing up for herself. she’s late to EVERYTHING and you wouldn’t expect that, but it’s only when it’s just HER. if it’s for a group or for the members, she’s perfectly on time. she’s very indecisive with certain things, as well, and she doesn’t deal w conflict well so she might give the silent treatment until she knows how to properly communicate. she can also be really, really stubborn sometimes and it is a lil ridiculous. totally the girl who has to go by her routine/plans for the day. the times she and johnny have argued, it was all about stupid shit, and she’s been working on her communication skills to improve the inevitable disagreements/arguments

she isn’t a vegetarian, but she will never eat meat if she has the choice. she’s super particular about what she consumes, but not even in a “i need to diet” way, she’s just been very into healthy eating since she was a child. she’s also the person to do her whole self-care routine every morning and night, no matter what. she’s good at helping the other girls take care of themselves when they’re feeling down.

she would love to act, but she’s more focused on idol life. dancing is her passion now that she’s gotten far in her training. she isn’t as big on music production, though she assisted in writing ‘WOMAN’. since sm is targeting them for america and kind of .. giving them more “freedom” so the west is more inclined to like them, hyeyoung helps take part in the choreo process. she tries to highlight the skills of each member in the dance, but she does have to follow guidelines for concepts

when hyeyoung speaks, she enunciates words very clearly, as to make sure she is understood. despite being shy at times, she always speaks at the appropriate volume for a conversation. she sits with immaculate posture, except when she’s lounging- if she’s on a couch or bed, she doesn’t sit, she lays. you can tell she’s thinking deeply if she appears to be chewing on the inside of her cheek or biting her lip. she used to have awful restless leg, and she still does, to an extent, but she suppresses it in public. sometimes you’ll catch her picking at her cuticles, swaying slightly, or humming. she’s also very physically affectionate. she loves clinging onto her members.

EVIE

oh my sweet evie .. she’s so ALIVE like she is a FEELER she wants to experience all things and turn it into art and beauty and she has such a lovely way of looking at life. she’s the Definition of unnie like she’s the big sister you want to talk to and lean on, even for the older girls.she’s very good at communicating and she and lily are the moodmakers.. evie in particular tho. she’s pretty spiritual and does tarot

as far as bad habits .. she’s hotheaded at times and won’t be civil if she’s genuinely angry at someone. she also values her alone time to the point of accidentally hurting the feelings of those around her. she also will self-sabotage because she thinks it’s funny and .. darling .. it’s NOT please don’t do things to get yourself in trouble or make yourself sad just to finish that painting or break your heart to perform a song better that’s Not Good my love. also, loyalty to a FAULT. she will defend her girls even if they’re wrong (not ACTUALLY horrible things though) and like. it’s sweet but evie .. mila DID fuck up yknow. even she knows it. pls don’t defend her blindly she really hurt lucas’ feelings. she also is too impulsive and has little regard for her own well-being .. sigh

she loves to eat and will eat anything but she’s REALLY fond of junk foods. her favorite food .. is a taco bell quesarito .. which drives hyeyoung INSANE like WHY IS THAT YOUR. FAVORITE. ms wu is also pretty amazing at making sure her members are doing self care and being good to themselves .. meanwhile they’re reminding evie to wash her hair and take off her makeup and change into pajamas before sleeping

she’s a huge fan of the concepts for comebacks and lending her creativity to the projects. she would be doing art if she weren’t an idol. she don’t fuck with graphic art- she doesn’t hate it or shit on it, but it’s really not for her. she used to do commissions growing up in the uk. she probably would have wanted to be a tattoo artist, honestly. she loves singing /music to DEATH and literally cannot do any task unless there is music playing and she always sings along. catch her promoting kris’ (kris as in kris wu the rapper, ex-exo member, her cousin) music

mila, evie, and lily all gay sit. evie’s is really pronounced tho tbh. on variety shows (in the future) the mcs will laugh at how she sits. lily grew up being scolded for it, so she’s more subtle about it, and mila can control it well. she’s like chanyeol and hits people while laughing. she cracks her knees and ankles often. she talks with her hands, but more aggressively than an average person. she bites her nails and rips off her acrylics out of boredom sometimes. she grinds her teeth when she’s alone. she harmonizes when singing along to any song. she scratches herself when she’s stressed. and evie is ALSO clingy nd affectionate

[fathermarty]

hello hello, darling ! i hope your day has been lovely, thus far .

if you would be so kind as to ship me with an hp character (preferably marauders era), i would be v grateful !

i’m a slytherin, but i have a ton of gryffindor qualities, once you get to know me . i have different faces for different people, and people rarely see me cry . however- once you break my apprehensive barrier, i am extremely loud, funny, charasmatic, and just downright weird .

i have a lot of trauma, and i have depression/anxiety, so that adds some ✨spice✨ to my life . i’m not good with conveying emotions, but i am extremely empathetic, and am known as the extremely sarcastic, dry, yet incredibly kind, sweet, and loving, therapist/mom friend .

i am tall (5’9), a bit clumsy, but i think it fits my oddball personality . i’m good at holding down the fort, and i’m v good at handling rowdy personalities, and i am great at matching people’s energy .

oooh! i also loveeee music (huge one direction fan here ;)) and i am v good at art and makeup (if i do say so myself) .

hope this wasn’t a bore to read, and thank you for letting me request ! <33

hello dear! 

it has been good, It is currently storming its ass off here so that's fun. well besides the fact my car is white and is currently parked beside a FUCKING DIRT MOUNTAIN. it's fine it’s fine everything is fine. i hope you are doing well hun!

okay, so I personally ship you with Remus hard fucking core. like i don't know if anyone else should be shipped w him?!

So picture this: you guys meet in the hospital wing, him after having a rough full moon, and you from just being clumsy. You are stuck in the wing for the whole day like him, so you guys start chit-chatting. 

Remus is a bit weary because you are a Slytherin but he learns that you are different just from talking to you. At some point during the day, you both are roaring with laughter at something you said. Remus finds himself enjoying your company more and more as each minute passes. You guys become friends and you make Remus promise to reach out more.

“Don’t worry y/l/n, you are stuck with me now.”

Oh boy was he right. Every class you guys had together he would ditch his friends for you. You even found yourself sitting with the Mauraders. “Don’t get your jumper in a knot Potter, I am not here to steal Lily.” You said one particular day sending a wink in the direction of the boy's precious LilyFlower. Everyone who was in earshot roared with laughter and ever since then, the Mauraders have become your friends too.

You were always there to help James and Sirius with their crushes and just there for them in general. Even Peter would come to you for some advice when he was not sure what to do. This made Remus’ heart swell.

Anytime you were with the Mauraders you had them laughing, sometimes unintentionally because you are a klutz, but laughing nonetheless. 

It wasn’t long until you figured out about Remus's lycanthropy, and you never directly told him you knew but it was pretty obvious. You would “coincidentally” be in the hospital wing the day after the full moon with an “injury” but you and Remus both knew you were not hurt. You just wanted to be there for him.

After a few full moons, Remus officially told you in a panic and he let all his emotions out. You were there to be his shoulder to cry on. You sat on his lap with his head buried in your neck. You ran your hands through his hair as you consoled him. This was when you decided your barrier would come down for Remus.

Sure enough, the next time you had a depressive attack Remus was there. You came to his dorm  (he told you the common room door password) because at that moment you needed him. Your beautifully immaculate makeup that he has come to look forward to seeing every day was smudged as tears and down your face. Remus let you lay on his bed as he conjured up a makeup wipe to clean up your face, he knows how much you care about your skin. After he took your makeup off he turned on the record player so music couldn't softly play. Then he crawled beside you and did just what you needed, he held you while you cried. He held you to his chest as he rubbed your back and carefully cradled your neck rubbing small circles on the side.

You and Remus aren’t sure when everything became official but it was obvious that you guys were an item. He would take care of your small bumps and bruises from your clumsy rendezvous and you would take care of him before and after the full moon. You guys became each other's rock.

“Y/n you are the most incredible woman I have ever met. You are so incredibly strong and you wear your heart on your sleeve. Your beauty shines both on the outside and inside. You make life so much more enjoyable baby, I love you.”

Ayeeeee my third ship, thank you so much for requesting honey! I hope you like it <3 My inbox is open for more ships ^_^

xoxo father marty ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

mwah

[ohmightydevviepuu]

our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 3

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter three

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she's been thinking that maybe it should say "Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck."

Her partner's been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

--

always, always, always because of @thisonesatellite​​ and @profdanglaisstuff​ thank you AGAIN to the amazing team at @captainswanbigbang​

cw: canonical character death rating: T/M (implied violence, language) AO3 chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

chapter summary:   Emma’s tracked down her suspect but then he looks into her eyes like he can see her, like he recognizes her--

And it’s a big fucking problem. She doesn’t trust him.  They are not a team.  No matter what he says or how blue his eyes are when he reads her like an open book.

--

“I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting,” James Hook said. “A woman such as yourself deserves my full and prompt attention.”

His voice was familiar; exactly as she had heard it in her dream down to the cadence of his accent.

“Does that line ever work?” Emma asked.

His eyes twinkled with appreciation. “I,” he said seriously, “will let you know, yeah?”

He was wearing eyeliner, kohl smudged around his eyes. Blue button-up shirt--partially undone, matched his eyes, would look even better on the floor--buttoned waistcoat, jeans that showed off his--

Fuck.

Emma needed a drink before she ended up like one of the co-eds.

“MacCutcheon,” she said simply.

“How do you like it?”

“In a glass,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Tough lass,” he said with a laugh, pouring her a shot.

“Yeah, well,” she said, picking up the shot glass and downing it in one. The condensation left a ring on the cocktail napkin. “It’s been a long day, and I’m thirsty.” She looked around, taking in more of the place--anything to look at instead of staring at Hook and his partially-unbuttoned shirt. “What’s with all of the swords?” Emma asked, gesturing at a wall covered in weapons.

The Rabbit Hole fell on the upside of ‘dive’, but only just barely. Maybe it was the Edison bulbs. The soft yellow glow gave everything a patina of ‘vintage’ instead of ‘grimey’. 

“And what are those, boat hooks?”

“Aye,” he said.

“What are you, some kind of sailor?”

“In another life,” he said, the fake grin stretching across his face, “I served in the Royal Navy.”

“You’ve practically got an armory in here,” she said.

“That’s the idea,” he agreed.

“You don’t seem like the type of guy to collect old-fashioned weapons.”

“Aye,” he said again, the eyes twinkling--again. “I collect blondes from bottles, too.”

Emma was a natural blonde--probably another legacy from one of her parents. She returned his gaze and said only, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

There it was: the real smile. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps I would. James Hook.” He held out his right hand to her, and Emma shook it, which was when she noticed that he only had the one.

“I know who you are,” she said.

“Ah,” he said. “So you’ve heard of me? Well, it’s always nice to leave an impression.”

“Oh,” Emma said. “You have. You’re handsome, and charming--”

“Do go on,” Hook said, shifting his weight against the back counter.

“The kind of guy who--now, stop me if I’ve got this wrong--steals a man’s wife and leaves a boy motherless, then keeps up the grudge by breaking into his home and stealing from him again.” Emma watched him during her recitation. This was her favorite part: skips always broke down when the hot piece of ass they’d been planning on nailing turned the tables and cuffed them.

Not in the fun way, either.

But Hook just looked at her, stepping forward again and bracing his elbow against the bar, his chin in his hand. His fingers curled against his upper lip, his eyes were wide and innocent, and the fake grin had returned; the change was so smoothly done it was--almost--imperceptible.

“Sounds like a lovely tale,” he said. “But I’m going to wager the truth is rather more gruesome.”

Emma was calm. She was focused. And he was not lying.

“Besides,” Hook said evenly, “I’m going to need you to be a mite more specific in your accusations; you see, I’ve had many a man’s wife.”

“And I need you,” Emma said, matching his tone, “to return what you’ve stolen.”

His smile--the fake smile--faltered. Just for a second. “Tell me something, love,” Hook said, leaning into her personal space, his eyes never leaving hers, “If a woman comes to you and begs you to take her away, is that theft?” He ran his tongue over his lower lip and winked at her.

“But--why would she leave him?” Emma asked before she could stop herself. The son, they had a son--

What were they even talking about?

“Because he was a coward,” Hook said easily. “Because she loved me.”

Emma pulled herself away from his gaze. Whatever was going on here--he wasn’t lying.

“So, lass,” he said, “you know who I am, but you won’t even tell me your name?”

“What fun would that be?” Emma said.

“If you’re helping Rump--Gold,” Hook said, with particular emphasis on the name, “I’m afraid you’re fighting for a lost cause.”

“I’m not fighting for anything,” Emma said, “except for my fee. Tell me what you know about Graham Humbert’s death.” She grabbed his wrist. “And I’m gonna let you in on a little secret--I’m pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me.”

“He came in here the other evening, on the hunt,” Hook said, biting down hard on the ‘t’. “He often did. It’s rather a target-rich environment, as you can see.” He gestured at the crowded room and leered. “That’s the last time I saw him.”

Emma smiled, the kind that showed no teeth, that was small and controlled, and tightened her grip on his wrist. With her other hand, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, unlocked it and scrolled to David Nolan’s entry. “He came here looking for you the night he died,” she said. “A fact I think the sheriff--” Emma held up the phone to show him “--will find fascinating, don’t you?”

He started to pull away, but Emma twisted his wrist just enough to put pressure on it--enough that pulling away would make a scene and potentially force someone to call the sheriff anyway. The singer finished a song to a scattering of applause, and Emma kept her grip and her gaze on Hook.

“Well done, lass,” he said. Emma let go of him and his hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. He had rings on two of his fingers and his thumb, and a freaking earring, a black stud. “You’ll be Emma Swan, then.”

“There goes my air of mystery,” she deadpanned.

“On the contrary, love,” Hook said, licking his lips again. “You’ve bested me. I can count on one hand the number of times someone has done that.”

“Is that a joke?” Emma said drily. “Because you’re a terrible liar.”

“Ask me what you’ve really come here to ask, Swan,” he said, and something in his face had shifted, like he had dropped the act of whatever part he was trying to play. His eyes were serious and the tone of his voice had lowered.

“Did you kill him?”

“I did not,” Hook said.

Emma believed him. Shit.

--

“Now then,” Hook said. “Emma Swan. Bail bonds, private investigations. Twenty-eight years old?”

They weren’t in the bar anymore.

According to the paperwork Graham had pulled, Hook had owned The Rabbit Hole for more than twenty years--clearly a typo as the man appeared exactly as Gold had described him: mid-thirties, no more, no less. It was difficult to picture him running off with a woman Gold’s age.

He’s older than he looks, Gold smirked, and had looked at Emma in a way that made her want to shower. And rather partial, I’m afraid, to brunettes.

Emma had confirmation of this, at least, when Hook had called out to a beautiful brunette in a micromini, tights and an artfully ripped t-shirt. Lacey, my darling, cover for me here, will you?

She’d laughed and given him--and Emma--a wink, and it was obvious what she thought Hook and Emma were doing, and why they needed cover. I’ve got this, Jamie, she’d said.

And he’d taken Emma to a small but immaculate office, dimly lit, rimmed with books, and offered her a chair with a bow before taking a seat behind the desk. She’s new, Hook had said of Lacey, but she does the job like she’s been here for decades. Something about that had amused him; Hook seemed consistently to be amusing himself with jokes only he understood. Any man who kept a skull-and-crossbones on the wall was definitely a man with an unusual sense of humor--in fact, this room had a distinct nautical theme, with a red flag draped above the black one and an honest-to-goodness ship in a bottle on his desk, and it was all a far cry from the badly-curated murder-tinged whimsy that made up the decor of the main bar.

“That’s oddly specific,” Emma countered. “Do I, like, get a prize if you’re right?”

“An educated guess,” Hook answered, and said nothing else as his eyes settled over her. Emma felt like she was being evaluated; not the first time that had happened, and she had no idea what he thought he was looking for.

“So, then,” he said. “Your Graham Humbert came looking for me.”

“He wasn’t my anything,” Emma said quickly. Maybe too quickly.

“Aye,” Hook said. “Of that I’m well aware.” He twisted his thumb against the metal of one of his rings and broke eye contact, looking down and away from her. “We weren’t friends, you know. Barely even acquainted. But you might say that we had certain connections in common.” Hook looked at her quickly and looked away again. “I hadn’t seen him in as long as I can remember.”

There was something strange underlying the words. Not a lie, but not the truth. And something about the phrase tickled Emma’s memory, like she had heard it somewhere before.

“He was involved with Regina Mills,” Emma said, realizing it at the same moment she said it.

“Indeed he was.” Hook made a sound, almost like a bark, and it took Emma a moment to realize it was a laugh. There was no amusement in it. “You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but she rather held his heart in her hands.”

Emma winced.

“Apologies, love,” Hook said quickly, and with apparent sincerity. “That was in rather poor taste, I admit.”

“You were too, weren’t you?” Emma asked instead of acknowledging his half-assed apology. “Involved with her?”

Another harsh laugh escaped him. “Indeed I was,” he said, “though not in the way you’d think. I did some work for the family. A long time ago.”

Emma smirked. “A man who used to be a sailor and now owns a bar?”

“‘Used to be’ is right, Swan,” he said, “but one might consider the bar payment.” He did that thing again, where he over-emphasized the harsh consonants. “For services rendered.”

“You realize you are the only one in this entire neighborhood who owns their property outright instead of paying rent to Robert Gold?”

“Am I?” He examined his fingernails. “That’s fortuitous.” It was obscene, the way Hook made words sound, but Emma knew a distraction when she saw one. This man used words as deflections, armor not unlike her collection of leather jackets.

“She came to see me,” Emma said.

“Did she?” That got Hook’s attention. “And what did you think of Her Majesty the Queen?”

“Her what now?”

“Regina, love. Latin.”

“You speak Latin?” Emma’s eyebrows definitely went up.

“And Greek,” he pointed out, smirking.

“They teach you that in the Royal Navy?”

“Something like that,” he agreed.

Emma’s head was beginning to hurt. This was shaping up to be the world’s worst first draft of “Who’s on first”--she wasn’t getting anywhere, and she needed another drink.

“What did she want?” Hook asked, and for the first time, there was genuine curiosity in his tone. He twisted behind him, pulling out a bottle, then repeated the process and came up with two glasses pinched between his thumb and forefinger, placing one in front of her. He pulled the cork with his teeth, poured himself a shot, and then gestured at her with the bottle.

Emma gave him a look.

“You’re something of an open book, Swan,” Hook said, the picture of innocent hospitality, “or did you not want another drink?”

“Regina wanted to know,” Emma said, ignoring his outstretched hand, “what I was doing about Graham’s death.”

“Don’t make a man drink alone, love.”

“I don’t want a drink,” she lied. “Or a man.”

Hook pouted. “Now who’s not telling the truth?”

Emma took the bottle from his hand and poured herself three fingers’ worth.

“I do find that spirits can be an excellent solution to so many of life’s problems,” Hook said with false cheerfulness, “so I am glad to see that you are making progress.”

Emma left the glass on the desk and leveled a glare at him.

“Are you?” he said, raising his eyebrows, “making progress?”

There was a knock on the door at the same time as it opened, and a young man stepped in. Nearly as tall as Hook, he had long, dark blonde hair that he’d slicked back, leaving some fringe to fall messily at his temples.

“Alright, Liam?” Hook said.

The young man--Liam--coughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, only Lacey said you were back here--”

“And you wanted to interrupt?” Hook asked, a mix of exasperation, fondness and something sharper in his voice.

Liam shrugged.

“Swan,” Hook said, “allow me to present my lit--younger brother, Liam, who was just leaving.”

Emma nodded at him, with his slightly-less-blue eyes and the curious way they watched her.

There was a look in Hook’s eyes as his brother walked out that Emma was not prepared to acknowledge. She pushed her untouched tumbler of rum back toward him and snapped, “Enough. Why did Graham come here to see you?” Emma demanded.

Hook shrugged.

“He tracked you down through property records,” Emma said. “Because the Mills Organization paid you in real estate for work you did for them a long time ago?”

“So it would seem,” he said.

“You know it says on the deed that you’ve been the owner here for as long as I’ve been alive?”

“Does it?” he smirked. “And yet I’ve retained my youthful glow.”

There it was again--not a lie, but not the truth.

He’s older than he looks.

Emma sat, toying with the tumbler she had pulled back toward her seat, running her forefinger around the ring of the glass and saying nothing.

“What can I say, Swan,” he said. “‘I contain multitudes.’ Not unlike your Graham Humbert.” He looked at her as though he was expecting a reaction; Emma stared at him.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Ah,” he said, as though to himself. “Not a believer, then--well, surely that will stop you getting killed.”

Hook considered her for a moment before tossing back his shot, then said: “Walt Whitman, lass. American poet.”

“Didn’t study poetry at any of the high schools I got kicked out of,” Emma said. “What does my listening to you recite poetry and mutter to yourself have to do with Graham?”

Hook shook his head. “Absolutely nothing, love,” he said. “Merely pointing out that you might be surprised by what they teach you in the Royal Navy.”

“You don’t know anything about what I believe,” Emma said sharply.

His blue eyes blazed. “I know that everything you think you believe is wrong,” he said.

“A man is dead, Hook,” Emma said. “I need you to stop fucking around and give me back whatever it is you’ve taken.”

“She’s dead, Swan,” he said sadly, the fire gone just as quickly as it had come, “and whatever that bloody crocodile has you looking for, I don’t have it.”

He had that look again.

Crocodile.

“Just like Milah, when the crocodile took her from me.”

“His wife?” Emma said. “Look, I’m sorry she died, but Graham--Graham was murdered.”

“Died,” Hook snorted. “Like it was some kind of accident--”

“That’s not what I said,” Emma protested, feeling suddenly on the defensive.

“--lass, it was no more of an accident than Humbert laid out in the alley.” Hook poured himself another shot and held it. “And you, Swan, helping him? I fear we’re working at cross purposes.”

“I’m just here to retrieve something on behalf of my client,” Emma said, exasperated and confused, “and to get paid Same as Graham, only he ended up dead and I would prefer to avoid that.”

“It’s a shame, really, Emma,” he said, apparently not listening. “I think we could make quite the team.”

“And what,” Emma wanted to know, “would our objective be?”

Hook paused and looked at her before he drank the second shot, and Emma still had no idea what he was looking for. He took a breath and said: “To avenge your partner,” he said, as if it would be that simple. “To exact revenge on the man who took my hand, Rumplestiltskin.”

--

“Swan!” Hook called, rushing after her. “Swan, wait up!”

Emma was ten or fifteen feet out the door of The Rabbit Hole when she doubled back quickly and pushed herself against him. “Whoa!” she cried. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”

Hook smiled at her and pulled them closer together. “It’s about bloody time.”

Emma hit him. “I seem to have a shadow,” she said, gesturing at the figure running into the darkness--the one that had lunged itself at her and forced her up against Hook.

“I suppose,” Hook said, pretending to consider it, “that’s a plausible excuse for grabbing me, but next time don’t stand on ceremony.”

Was the man insane? “Do you have any idea what you sound like right now? Who the fuck is Rumplestiltskin?”

Hook’s face fell. “I sound like a crazy person,” he said. “Apologies, love, I realize Humbert didn’t--” He paused, took a breath. “Would you settle for ‘dashing rapscallion’?”

“Excuse me?” Emma stuttered.

“As opposed to ‘crazy person’, Swan,” Hook pushed, and then leaned in closer at her continued silence, angling his head so their eyes were level. “Scoundrel, perhaps?”

He was close enough to--

He was very close.

“I think, Swan,” he said, very softly, his eyes boring into hers, “that you are not the only one with a shadow. Don’t turn,” he warned, “just look at me.”

The full focus of this man’s attention was nearly unbearable. Emma desperately needed to break eye contact and maintain her wits, which was how she noticed the red streak on his shoulder.

Where she’d grabbed him.

Unfortunately, that drew his eyes to the spot as well, and he knew immediately what it was.

“Swan,” he said, and he sounded disappointed. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing,” Emma insisted. “Just, the jerk who came after me must have had a knife or something.”

“Give me your hand,” Hook said.

“What?” Emma said, trying to pull away.

He wouldn’t let her. “It’s cut,” he said, getting impatient. “Let me help you.”

“No,” Emma said, taking a definitive step back. Hook countered by stepping forward, back into her personal space. “It’s fine.”

“Swan,” he sighed. “It’s not.”

And he ran his hand down her arm, curling his fingers around her wrist and lifting it for closer inspection, balancing her hand on his left wrist against his prosthetic.

“I’m not taking medical advice from a man who has named himself after a character in a fairy tale and who thinks my client can spin straw into gold,” Emma muttered. “Not even when he suddenly decides to be a gentleman.”

Hook’s face twisted, that already-familiar smirk pulling at his mouth as he took something out of his pocket. “I,” he said, and his tone was serious in spite of his expression, “am always a gentleman.” He looked at Emma through eyelashes that were thicker than hers were after several rounds of lash primer as he repeated his bit with the cork and moved to pour the contents over the small slash in her palm.

“What is that?” Emma asked suspiciously, then swore as the liquid hit her skin.

“It’s rum,” Hook said. “And a bloody waste of it.” He handed the flask to her before she could refuse and pulled out a handkerchief from his coat pocket, pressing it into her hand before Emma could try to pull away again and tying it off with his teeth.

Just--his teeth . Why?

His eyes never left hers, not even as he stepped away from her.

“He’s gone,” Hook whispered.

Emma sighed and took a swig of the rum in resignation. “Scoundrel it is, then,” she said, taking a definitive step backward and crossing her arms across her body in the universal signal for back off. Because she knew what he was doing, she had seen this movie before, and it hadn’t ended well.

They were not a team.

They could not be a team.

“Why were you following me?”

“I wanted to continue our conversation,” he said. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Emma shook her head slowly.

He grinned, shrugged. “And," he said, "I would like to see Regina Mills. I was hoping you would be so kind as to facilitate transportation.”

“You don’t drive?”

“I don’t drive a car,” Hook said. “It’s not by choice that I live here in the city, love, it’s by necessity.”

Emma felt her resistance wavering. “What makes you think I’d be willing to help you?”

“You seem,” Hook paused, as if searching for the correct word, “motivated.”

“What happened to cross purposes?”

“I look at this very simply,” Hook said. “I help you get what you want, and it gets me what I want. No more, no less. Besides, I find that I quite fancy you--when you’re not yelling at me, that is.”

“I don’t understand you,” Emma said.

“The mystique is part of my charm, I assure you,” Hook said, raising his eyebrows.

But she had already given in to whatever scheme this was, had given in the minute she pushed herself against him.

The minute he had held her arm and pushed into her space.

Emma gestured for him to go ahead, and they started walking to her car. Hook took in the careworn yellow Beetle with a grin on his face. “Quite a vessel you captain here, Swan,” he said, pulling the door open on the passenger side.

“It seemed like the best choice at the time,” Emma said softly, meaning it, momentarily hating herself for how wrong she had been--and how much this felt like the same beginning all over again. She ran a quick address search on her phone and came up with nothing; it was odd, given the extent of the Mills Organization’s influence.

“I know where she lives, lass,” Hook said. “I’ll navigate.”

Emma pulled out of her spot, the silence growing between them, interspersed at odd intervals with his muttered directions until he spoke. “You know, Swan, most people would find your silence off-putting, but I should warn you that I love a challenge.”

“No challenge,” Emma said. “I’m not looking for someone who’s gonna give his heart to the world, or some true love riding to my rescue.”

“But?” Hook prompted.

“I mean,” Emma said, dripping with sarcasm, “somewhere in the universe, there's gotta be a guy who'll keep me warm when I'm cold, feed me when I'm hungry and maybe, on occasion, take me dancing.”

“No,” he said. “That’s not it. You’re afraid--to talk, to reveal yourself.”

“Am I?” Emma said flatly. “What are we doing now? What happened to ‘a bit of an open book’?” She finished with a horrible imitation of his accent.

“You’re afraid to trust me.”

“Afraid to trust the guy who believes in fairy tales, Captain Hook?” Emma snorted. “However did you guess?”

“Bartender’s a sympathetic ear, love,” Hook said, “but I don’t need you to share. You have that look in your eyes.”

Emma’s entire body went still.

“The one,” Hook said, as if she didn’t already know--didn’t own a freaking mirror--hadn’t seen the look on his face that very night, “you get when you’ve been left alone.”

“Now I’m some kind of lost girl?” Emma forced herself to laugh. “Nice try, Hook, but my world ain’t Neverland.”

He made a noise, halfway between the unamused bark-laugh and a sigh, and said: “My point, Swan, is that an orphan’s an orphan.”

Emma said nothing, but Hook pressed on. “And True Love--well, that’s the rarest magic of all, or so they say. Have you ever even been in love?”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, took a deep breath, and lied. “No,” she said simply. “I have never been in love.” She pulled the car against the curb and turned off the ignition. “We’re here,” she said.

“Who’s the guy, Swan?” he said, and his voice was almost free of affect. She could--almost--believe he meant it.

“What guy?” Emma said, because fuck him and his open-book bullshit.

“The one,” Hook said as if it was obvious, “who left you with such a high opinion of me.”

Emma got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her.

--

@kmomof4​ @shireness-says​ @spartanguard​ @optomisticgirl​ @eirabach​ @winterbaby89​ @stahlop​ @teamhook @iamlaxdris71 @snowbellewells​ @carpedzem​ @scientificapricot​ @ultraluckycatnd @therealstartraveller776 @wyntereyez @nikkiemms @searchingwardrobes​ @courtorderedcake​

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The Bad Guy (G.D. Gang AU)

Summary: The world sees him as Grayson Dolan - the CEO of Dolan enterprises, an entrepreneur. Y/N will soon find a much darker side to the world’s favorite bachelor.  

Warnings: language, alcohol use, smut, fluff, angst, violence…

Word count: 27.6k

The Bad Guy Masterlist

A week I had been down here, listening to Grayson’s stubborn grunts and dry chuckles, coated in defiance and poison. A week I had spent in the cold, dark basement as leverage where I had been beaten and degraded in hopes of breaking him.

I’m not afraid anymore. Not for myself, but for him alone. Hearing them take turns torturing the man I had come to love in spite of my better judgement, I knew if he didn’t give them information they seek it would be his end.

Me?

I knew how my story would end. I think I knew it since the moment I said ‘fuck it’ and gave my heart to Grayson Dolan, leader of the most powerful gang on US soil.

I knew what would happen to me; that I’d meet my end at the edge of a sharp blade or at the barrel of a gun. I just didn’t know who would be on the other end.

It would be to break him, the final nail in the coffin.

They’ve tried hurting me in front of him, but he barely budged. He didn’t even flinch when I took punch after punch until I passed out. The merciless, unemotional coldness in his eyes never withered. His claim of no attachment to me remained despite their threats.

It stung, even knowing he said it in hopes of my release.

My skin has ruptured above the growing purple blooms. Every movement hurts. I am battered on the inside worse than any broken bone and without a doctor who can even detect the damage.

I sat curled up against the wall, shivering in my underwear and clutching to the already faded scent of his shirt. It was either suffocatingly quiet or pierced with the screams of tortured people, not only Grayson’s. I’ve learned to distinguish the sounds for Grayson never once screamed, not even when he was walking the line of life and death. He’s too proud to give them the satisfaction.

The never-ending punches from down the hall, behind the steel doors, they never stop. Angry shouting never stops.

Until they do.

Quick, heavy footsteps near me. Determined walking, I could tell. It wasn’t a good sign for me, not after the last time. The last time ended with me coughing up a lung and him losing consciousness after they punched him so hard I could have sword his neck broke.

The door opens and I jump to my feet, placing an invisible mask of stubborn fearlessness, hoping to hide my true emotions.

“Walk.” The order is simple, just as the gun pointed at my head. The man tilts his head, instructing me to move instead of staring at his bloodied hands. The dry blood meant it wasn’t his turn to torture Grayson, but me.

I obey his wishes, knowing I have no choice. It’s either listen or die…there’s no in between.

Walking down the dark hallway, seeing a small light at the end where Grayson is held, I hold my breath in anticipation of what is waiting for me once I arrive.

What will I find in there? A man too stubborn to die or his corpse after all the animalistic things they’ve done to him?

Pushed inside, I stumble forward, my legs weak from days of starvation and dehydration, the beating and loss of sleep.

Lips quivering, I look away from the barely recognizable image of the man I love. His face is made out of blood and bruises, cuts on every inch of his once impeccable skin. His eyes are swollen over, barely open and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws. His hair is matted, no longer styled immaculate as he wore it before. He’s shirtless, only giving way for more injuries that line his body.

He’s barely alive, but he still refuses to talk.

I’m not even sure what this man wants from us, nor what Grayson did to anger him. I just know it will end us both if he keeps up his nonnegotiable attitude.

Refusing to cry, I keep my pieces close, not allowing them to shatter. If I shatter right now, I didn’t know what it would do to him.

“Now. I’ve had a change of heart.” The man smirks, putting a hand around me carelessly. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, trying hard to restrain myself from acting up when I know I’m no match for him. I try my best not to look at Grayson, averting my eyes to the ground instead.

“I’m willing to let you go.” He says slyly, his raw voice brutal against my ear. Disgusted by his proximity, I struggle against him, shooting my right leg out but my movements are far too slow. Hands moving from my waist, the stranger seized my arms, trapping them to my side.

“It’s obvious this one will not admit to anything to save you…so…I want to offer you an out.” His tongue brushed my earlobe, forcing me to hold back on gagging as nauseating swirls began to dance in my very empty stomach.

He slides his hand down my right arm, forcing something cold and heavy in the palm of my hand. He wraps my fingers around the metal, his breath that smells of cigarettes and alcohol overwhelming my senses.

“Make the shot and you can go free.” That’s when I realized what he gave me. A gun.

“Try anything and my men will blow both your brains out.” He warns, finally stepping away from me.

I lift my hand up, biting down on my lower lip mercilessly as I gaze upon the deadly weapon in my possession. I’m trying to figure out if trying to aim the gun at someone else would be possible.

Closing my eyes with a slight shake of my head, I aim the gun at a calm Grayson and meet his gaze.

There is nothing behind the hazel swirls I loved so dearly, not a trace of the man I cherished. His eyes aren’t even hazel anymore, but brown and bloodied, barely giving way to the color I adored.

In those earthy hues was his soul, not in the way those cheesy romance novels described, so obsessed with lust, but with the kind of beauty that expands a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven you wish to be a part of. A heaven I got to be a part of.

That’s all gone now.

“Maybe this will make it easier for you.” The man speaks up, noticing the continuous trembling of my hands, my entire body at that.

“The very first night we took you, I told him we’d kill you…after taking turns raping you. He said: do as you please. She means nothing to me.” My eyes widen at the words, feeling as if I’ll break like a porcelain figurine. Once I break, nothing will put me back together again. Not even Grayson.

Could he ever say such a thing?

Could he sacrifice me for his business?

He always told me I’d never be his priority, so is this him keeping his word?

My rage grew, but I knew I’d never be able to pull the trigger. I might not be his priority, but he’s always been mine. I can hate him for his actions, never forgive him for what he had done…but he won’t die by my hand.

Not tonight.

I shook my head rapidly disallowing my second thoughts to get the better of me. Faltering, the gun is ripped out of my hand and I whimper at the forceful takeover.

“That’s disappointing.” He spat at me, but I didn’t fret.

They untie Grayson, placing the gun in his hand as well. He wouldn’t do this to me. I’m not afraid.

Faith - mine floated away from me a very long time ago, like a leaf being pulled away on the tide, and into the sea to become lost and alone, likely drowned. But I have faith in Grayson. I’ve always trusted him, not doubting he’d protect me.

That’s why this is much more painful than it had to be.

Without a second thought, in a single heartbeat, he aimed the gun at me and cocked his head.

“Sorry darling. Nothing personal.” And then he pulled the trigger.

One year earlier

Have you ever felt change in the air? Like something big, unstoppable is coming for you, prepared to turn your life around into something you can’t recognize?

I’ve felt that this entire day, deep in my bones.

Driving to a night shift at a bar wasn’t a part of that feeling. That’s routine. At least for me it is.

It’s been that way ever since I moved to New York and started classes in NYU because I couldn’t afford tuition in Columbia, my dream school. I wanted to study medicine, to get a degree and make my parents proud. They say that children rarely surpass what their parents became and I came from a salesman and a music teacher that were born and raised in a town so small it doesn’t show on many maps…in this day and age, I had nowhere to go but up.

I swore I’d leave that town and if working late nights at a bar in a popular club, flirting for tips is the way to go, then I’d do just that.

“VIP section wants whiskey on the rocks.” Carmen gave the order and I nod, grabbing glasses. Two years behind the bar gave me enough experience to do most things with eyes closed, but when it’s the good stuff they require all your senses sharpen.

“How many?” I ask, taking the bottle of our finest whiskey.

“Eight.” She bends down, picking up a bottle of tequila for drunk frats on the other end of the bar and I gawk at her.

“This should make a nice tip!” If the guys have hundreds of dollars to spend on eight glasses of whiskey, I’m sure a wink paired with a smile would get me at least a third if not more of the original price.

Older they are, creepier but more generous they get. I’ve learned that fast. However, they were easy to impress. The young guys were those who actually expected innocent flirting to go further and got pissed when I put them in their place, denying me a proper tip at that.

Assholes.

Adding ice, I take the tray and make my way to the VIP section, swaying lightly to the beat. I couldn’t risk spilling these drinks for they cost as much as my kidneys, so I quickly stopped myself and plastered a smile before entering the section behind a velvet rope.

One look is enough for me to groan internally, seeing five young men and three men in their fifties.

“Frank.” I lean closer to the guard, making sure he’s aware I might need him. Although he’s always been there in time, I had to remind him for my sake.

“Stay close. I might need you.” Frank nods, his pale blue eyes darkening once he looks back at the men in their fancy suits.

“No worries, little one. Always am. Keeping my eye on them.”

Extremely self-conscious of my slightly exposing uniform, I take a deep breath and step up to the podium with their table.

Eight men sitting, three standing - guards most likely.

In the center of the table sit two almost identical men, both in suits and looking like they belong on a runway instead of the crowd they’re with. But only one of the two caught my eye.

Shaking my head slightly, I move closer once the same guy looks up at me, eyeing me up and down before rolling his eyes and waving me over.

Oh, here we go.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” I coat my voice in unnecessary sweetness, hoping to smooth over the waiting time that added up in my hesitation to approach them.

I started placing a glass in front of each man, ignoring the fact someone’s hand is brushing my ass and most of them are peering at my cleavage for a better view.

“We won the jackpot tonight boys!” The man who clearly knows no bounds taps my ass and I jump up, knocking over the last glass all over one of the guests.

Gasping, eyes wide in horror, I feel cold sweat wash over me.

“I’m so sorry, sir!” I begin apologizing profusely, hands trembling as I dab his thigh with a rag until his hand firmly grasps my wrist, stopping me effectively.

“Stop!” He practically growls at me, forcing me to look up despite my want to disappear.

“Get me another.” His voice clears as he looks into my eyes, the dark brown enticing me to nod silently. I realize just now that it’s the same man I first noticed upon entering, the one who called me over. Denying myself the pleasure to look at him any better, I nod curtly.

“Right away sir!” I squeal, swallowing thickly when I feel a hand on my lower back again. Turning around, I face the dickhead who made me spill and glare at him.

“Please don’t touch the servers, sir.” My voice is anything but pleasant and I don’t care. Fondling is where I draw the line. Slapping the unwanted hand away from me, I walk around him and start walking away on wobbly legs. Hearing a loud, gruff laugh, I glance back at the table only to see the old bastard enjoying his advances and the fact he got away scot free.

I grimace, trying to hold back tears and run the hell out of there with Frank calling after me.

“Get me a glass of that whiskey on rocks and a shot for me.” I ask Carmen, my voice as shaky as I feel.

Nauseous, skin crawling, screaming inside - that’s how I feel. There’s always someone throwing unsavory comments my way, but almost none have ever put their hands on me in that degree.

“You alright, hon?” Carmen gave me a sympathetic smile as I shook my head and quickly downed the shot.

“Nah. But I will be.” Shrugging, I grab the tray and head back, a little more confident than I left. A shot can do a girl wonders when necessary.

Coming nearby, I find one of the guards pushing that old sack of shit out the back door and stop, unable to contain a smile.

“I’m sorry I -” Frank stops me, but I pass right by, preparing to face the music again.

The table is now a man short, my heart a little calmer.

Placing the drink before the young man, I apologize once more only to find the guard that escorted that ass take his place behind the same guy.

“Thank you.” I whisper to the guard, turning to leave when a hand wrapped around my wrist again.

“You’re thanking the wrong man.” He glances at me, releasing my hand and I turn back around, eyes gliding over the men around him and the man I deemed his brother beside him. His brother is the only one watching the interaction, none of the others seems to dare look at me.

“Thank you for stepping in, especially after the spilling incident.” I swallow my pride and thank him for intervening, deciding he deserves it.

Waiting for a response, for a look my way at the very least, I quickly realize it won’t happen when his hand sets mine free.

I’m left looking at his stylish brown hair and sharp jawline instead, unable to see much more from this angle. He’s got wide shoulders, that I can be sure of.

“Well, uh…if that’s all.” I step back, lips set in a firm line until his voice coaxed me to stop.

“A bill would be great.” He reminds me, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow and I stop, tapping my pockets for the bill in panic. If I don’t have a bill, legally they don’t have to pay for a single thing which means I am the one paying for it. I can’t afford that to happen.

Feeling the crumbled paper in my left back pocket, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’ve been holding and unfold the paper in front of him.

“Wait.” He stops me once more and I tense up, biting my lip.

“Yes, sir?”

“You only put down eight drinks. We had nine this evening.” He points out and I frown, licking my lips.

“I’ve spilled one, sir.” I remind him sheepishly, growing uncomfortable under his unrelenting state.

Unexpectedly, the man stands up and my level of distress skyrockets.

He is TALL tall and very muscular, even under the suit it’s obvious. His eyes are dark and knowing, his nose perfectly shaped for his face, all his features sharp and appealing like something out of a Taylor Swift song.

He’s so tall and handsome as hell. He’s so bad, but he does it so well? Sounds about right.

“What happens when you spill a drink?” He steps closer, lights dancing on his skin as I feel my heart thundering inside my chest.

He looks like a walking Taylor Swift song, but he feels like he just walked out of a Lana del Rey’s song.

His presence alone commands awe, respect and his charisma can make any human stop and forget what they’re doing so long as it pleases him. He is magnetic, electric, someone you can get lost in before knowing what’s happening.

But he’d never go for a girl like me. His suit alone costs more than my car.

“I pay for the damage, sir.” I respond confidently, surprising myself with the calm and collected front I had put on.

His eyes narrow at me, just enough for him to make out my features better in the darkness.

“How much is one glass of this whiskey?” He pushes further and I gulp, wondering if he can see my heart beating out my chest. What does any of this have to do with him anyway? It’s becoming literal torture to speak to him where we both lean forward to hear the other better and none of that leaning forward ends with his lips on mine.

“Two hundred dollars, sir.” I answer, feeling my breathing turn more shallow by the minute.

“You don’t strike me as someone who can afford something like that.” He points out and I chuckle nervously, shrugging.

“All part of my job.”

He grabs his back pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet and opens it up, exposing an impressive bundle of cash.

I couldn’t not stare at the money, nor wrap my mind around the fact people just walk around with that amount like it’s nothing.

“Here.” He hands me the money.

“That’s for nine glasses.” He continues to grab more money, counting silently as his plush lips move accordingly.

“And for your efforts.” He pockets a rather large looking sum in my apron, knocking the wind out of me.

“That’s too much, sir. I can’t accept this.” I try to give the money back when he reaches out and takes my hand in his, holding it captive.

“Take it. It will do you much more good than it could for me.” He states, not breaking eye contact that has become far too intimate for my taste.

“And it’s Grayson. Sir makes me feel old.”

I nod, walking away, certain I’d never see Grayson again.

But he was there the next night.

And the night after that.

And many more to come.

He always requests me as their server by name, somehow knowing it without me ever saying it. He never addressed me by it, but I knew he knew.

Every night consists of him and his brother, Ethan as I’ve been told, coming by and taking the same table in the VIP section, their guard with them.

Every night I bring them whiskey on the rocks, the two hundred a glass type, and every night he gives me a tip so generous that I finally learned what it meant to buy a new book to study from instead of handy downs.

And I love the smell of new books!

Grayson would barely speak to me, politely exchanging orders and thank you’s, but each night his discreet looks started becoming less and less discreet.

Three weeks in, he didn’t bother just glancing at me with his serious face on and a very hardened look he kept steady for whoever would join the table that night. He didn’t just glance, but stare every chance he got. And despite my better judgement, I stared back.

“Keep the rest, Y/N.” Grayson’s three thousand dollars in my hands shocked me, especially when the bill was just a little over a thousand and a half. It’s also the first time ever he used my name in a conversation. And I liked it. The way my name rolled over his pretty pink lips left me in shackles of lust he evoked.

“I can’t keep taking all this money, Grayson.” I leaned in, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Y/N Y/L/N, early twenties, student and living in a studio apartment. Yes, I know the exact age which I’ll keep quiet because it’s rude to talk about a lady’s age, and yes, I know your exact address, but I’d like you to feel comfortable around me so I’ll keep it to myself. You need this money and you earn it every night. I award those who do their jobs well, so take it and don’t question it.” He tapped my shoulder, the air around us turning static with contact as it always does when he touched me, accidentally or not.

“You had me investigated?” I whisper shout, prepared to call Frank on him. This goes beyond creepy, it’s stalkerish!

“I like to know who works in my close proximity. Nothing to worry about.” Winking, he walked back to the table and grabbed his jacket, snapping his fingers and the rest stood with him, leaving as I’m left gobsmacked. All he had to give me is a quick glance over the shoulder as he folded the jacket over his forearm, leaning in as he stopped beside me.

“I’m sure you investigated me too.” His cologne alone is enough to make my head spin, let alone the muscles bulging under his white dress shirt. He fixed his tie, pursed his lips when he noticed I barely blink anymore and walked away.

That’s all it was, just looks and occasional eyebrow raise, not even a smile to spare.

Two months in, that’s when I got my first smile. And although he was wrong the first time around, I did do my research on him in the meantime as he was gone for a few weeks.

A businessman with restaurants, clubs, gyms even, all over the country! He owns a studio in LA as well! His company DT media, which he started with his twin brother is one of the most lucrative companies in the world.

He’s not just rich, he’s filthy rich! Squeaky clean record, most eligible bachelor, prince charming in this day and age.

Yes, I needed a couple of shots to truly take that in.

“Missed me?” He smirked once I came up to the table with his usual order, his ear now sporting a wing shaped earring like I’ve seen in the photos, but never on him. He traded in a suit for a leather jacket, only adding on his bad boy look.

“Those abs? Yes. Those remarks? Nope!” I’m no longer stiff around him, openly sassing back which he seems to like.

His lips curl upwards, the soft skin spreading until his pearly whites showed, blurred with an amused shake of his head.

“Oh! So, he can smile! I can die in peace!” I teased, giggling at him for he now chuckled as well.

A smirk, a smile and a chuckle all at once? I truly got blessed.

“Funny! For your information, I missed you.” Grayson didn’t hold back, which stunned me for a second. He’s truly in a good mood tonight. He’s never flirted with me, not like that. It was all – tortured and broody, all in stolen glances and accidental touches kind of a flirtation.

“Good to know.” I smile, genuinely unsure what to say to that. What do people say to these things?

I felt his eyes on me as I walked away, managing to resist the urge to look back at him. I’m sure he missed seeing me walk away just as much as he missed me.

But when I returned, he wasn’t happy. Hunched over and talking in hush voices, Ethan and Grayson looked almost panicked.

Until Grayson saw me and ran up to me with a wild look in his brownish - hazel eyes.

“I need to borrow your car.” He states and I scoff, thinking he’s joking. A man of his stature needs to borrow my old car? Funny.

“Keys, Y/N! Now!” He raised his voice at me, shaking me up for he never did that after I initially spilled a drink on him. He’s always been calm and patient. This is a new side to him. One I’ve never seen.

“It’s a piece of junk. Might not even start.” I defend my Impala, the only object in my life that matters to me.

“It’s a matter of life and death, okay?! Please?” I didn’t need anymore convincing, fishing out my keys. He snatched them out my hand, pressing a hard, quick peck to my cheek as he and Ethan ran out the back, giving me a view of a gun Ethan had in the back of his jeans.

I’m not sure what stunned me more: the peck or the gun. What the hell does he need a gun for?

Grayson didn’t return the next night. Nor the next one. Not that week, leaving me frustrated after getting a call from the police about my wrecked car, abandoned in Brooklyn.

Without a car, or any answers, I took matters in my own hands.

I walked into DT media every day after class and requested to see Grayson Dolan only to be turned around.

Unlucky for him, I’m not a quitter.

I badgered his business on daily basis over internet, phones, letters, faxes, in person. All in order to get something concrete to justify why I no longer have my car…the only thing I gave a damn about.

Until luck struck like lightning.

“Grayson Bailey Dolan!” I shouted in the lobby, catching his fleeting figure leaving the elevator.

He tensed up, turning toward me with a stony face and a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

I rushed toward him, glaring at him on the way.

“You’ve been a pain in the ass these days.” Grayson states, not allowing me to speak first and I chuckle dryly.

“And you borrowed my car, wrecked it and abandoned it in Brooklyn!” I grumble, certain my blood pressure is off the charts.

“So?” He clicks his tongue, lifting his right hand to check the time as if this conversation is just another thing he wants to wrap up and get rid of me.

“So?!” I look at him in disbelief, my blood boiling.

“It took me four hundred dollars to get it back after it was impounded by police! Two hundred to tow it to the nearest mechanic! And now they say it will cost me more to fix the car than to buy a new one!” My voice echoed throughout the fairly empty lobby, most people dare not look our way just like in the club.

“Again. Why is this my problem?” Grayson points a finger at himself and I am sure my eyes now hold actual flames from the fire he unleashed inside me.

“I want my damn car fixed, Grayson! Cough up the cash or get me your insurance company info, do something!” Voice raw from shouting, I found myself at my wits end, ready to give up.

“I have no idea why I’d do that for you. I had nothing to do with your car being totaled.” He shrugged, walking past me.

I grab him by the arm, forcing him to stop and look at me. His muscles are hard, big under my touch and his eyes threatening as he towers over me with his lips set in a firm line. His forehead wrinkles and a single hair falls out of place on his perfect head.

Straightening my back, I look him straight in the eyes, not allowing his built to intimidate me.

“You will fix my car or I’ll be your worst nightmare.” With my voice dark and low, I realize I’m actually threatening a man much more powerful than I could ever be.

“If you think I was a nuisance before, you’ll be shocked to see how far I’ll go to get what’s mine.” With that, I let go of him and walk right by him, intentionally ramming my shoulder into his. It hurt me more than it hurt him, but it’s the message behind that move that counts!

Next time I saw him was a week later, once more in his seat at the club and my services requested again.

“Hello, my little nuisance.” He greets me with a wide smile, taking the glass in his hand before I have the chance to put it before him.

I huffed, narrowing my eyes at him chiefly to take in the leather jacket, bad guy, James Dean look he’s sporting instead of the usual suit and tie I’ve come to love.

This felt more relaxed, but much more dangerous. The last time I saw him wearing leather was the night I said goodbye to my car.

“Anything else, sir?” I emphasize, making his brother burst into laughter, Grayson himself placing a hand over his chest.

“Ouch, doll. What did I ever do to deserve this?” He faked a pained expression, but a smile on his lips is a dead giveaway this is all just a joke to him.

“I’m not your doll! And you owe me something.” I lean back, grabbing my tray from the table quickly.

But he is quicker than I am.

In moments, his arm wrapped around my elbow, pulling me into his now standing form. I gasp involuntarily due to a mixture of genuine surprise and his body against mine.

Firm in all the right places, that’s the first thing I notice.

Warm, engulfing me in that warmth, that’s the second one.

Smell of cologne and not the store bought kind like I’m used to, but the expensive kind where one bottle would pay for my car to be fixed. That’s the third.

“When your shift ends, I’ll be waiting.” With that, he let go of me and a sudden wave of polar coldness spread through me. The tone he used wasn’t meant to frighten me, but a part of me did fear him. There’s more to the Grayson Dolan who wears suits and expensive watches than it meets the eye. There’s something there, much more sinister than anyone could comprehend.

I rushed back to the bar, still holding my breath as my lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen. I watched the clock with dread, seeing I have an hour left and to my surprise, I wasn’t called back for Grayson slipped me the cash when he let go of me.

Confident he forgot, I walked outside and almost had a heart attack when I saw him leaning on a baby blue Porsche with his arms crossed over his chest.

A car parked behind his was a simple jeep, his brother behind the wheel.

“Why are you here?” I cross my arms too, holding my bag closer.

“You said I owe you and well, I’m a man who pays his debts.” The confident smirk of his reappears, wiping all my confidence away in an instance.

“Like it?” He gestures to the car and I furrow my eyebrows in response.

“Your dream car if I’m right?” It’s a rhetorical question, that much is clear. His glances from the car to me only fuel my confusion. How deep did he go when he investigated me?

“Yes. But -” I begin, raising my right hand to my temple, pressing two fingers to it to ease the growing pressure.

“It’s yours.” Grayson states and I feel my legs lose their footing and waver.

“The fuck?! Grayson I asked for a few thousands to fix my Impala, not for a Porsche!” I shout, my voice high and almost shrill from the shock.

“Are you seriously yelling at me for giving you your dream car?” Grayson chuckles, sauntering toward me with the dreamiest look in his dark eyes. I pause, noticing the power behind those breathtaking eyes. The power that's as reckless as a tornado. His eyes flash. For a moment they look golden with warmth... and as careless as hell.

Pushing my hair back, securing it behind my ears, I look at him in disbelief.

“It’s a very beautiful car, but I can’t accept something so expensive.” Trying to keep my voice leveled, I sigh, rubbing my forehead now.

“Yes, you can. You deserve actual beauty in your life…well, beauty besides yourself.” He states, coming closer and my eyes widen, wild in the realization he just complimented me without a second thought.

“You’re not my sugar daddy and I am not a gold digger, Grayson.” I barely get the words out before he closes the distance between us, pressing his index finger to my lips. Tentatively, he traces my cupid bow, then my lower lip as if he’s searching something in the smallest of nooks of the soft flesh.

“I just want you to have something nice for once. Just accept the car, okay?” A part of me felt self-conscious with our close proximity, wondering if he can see the growing zit on my left cheek or if he could notice the eye bags I’ve been trying to cover up with a ton of make-up but failed, but another part of me hoped he would stop this torture where my heart thumped so strongly when he neared me and just kiss me already, ending the intoxicating desire to have him closer than humanly possible.

And just as I give in, gravitating toward him, slowly standing on my tiptoes, Grayson takes two steps back, making me nearly fall in his sudden need for space.

“Take the car, because it’s used. Does that help?” He continues his mission to convince me and I let out a shaky breath upon the loss of his touch. I wanted him. Now I knew that for sure. I longed for him.

“Used?” I raise a brow in question, wanting to keep the conversation going simply to have him with me longer.

“I already had it cleaned, but I may have christened the back seat twice…the front seat a couple times more.” My eyes popped at his confession, disgust at the implications and jealousy for I wanted that and although I’m not an idiot to assume he’s untouched, I didn’t need to picture him with other girls in the very car he’s offering me.

The keys come flying at me and I barely catch them before they smack my chest. Grayson walks to the other car, opening the Jeep doors with a wink sent my way.

However, I rushed after him, pocketing the keys in his jacket.

“Goodnight, sir.”

Walking away, I heard a loud groan and smiled at the sound. Wrapping my jacket around my body tighter, folding my arms over my chest for additional warmth, I keep walking into the night on high alert. Its pass two after midnight and I’m a cautious type. And for good reason.

“Get in.” A car stops beside me - a baby blue Porsche.

“Nope.” I don’t spare him a second look. He needs to learn to let things go. I’m certain he’s never had a woman say no to him before.

“Y/N, get in or I will make you get in!” He shouts, practically growling and I shake my head, keeping my eyes ahead.

That’s when he stops the car and is by me in a heartbeat. Next thing I know, I’m pushed into the car with a fleeting warmth from his arms before the door locks and I find myself stuck inside as Grayson sits in the passenger’s seat.

“What the fuck, Grayson?!” I try to open the door again, getting a smug smile on his behalf.

“You’re walking the streets dressed like that so late? Not on my watch.” His gruff voice and fingers paling against the steering wheel made me pipe down, knowing he’s right. Yes, it’s dangerous, but I had no choice in the matter.

“Well, someone ruined my car.” I mumble under my breath and he sighs, shaking his head at me before craning his neck to look at me properly.

“I’ll get your fucking car fixed, okay?” The language he uses matched his frustration with me and I could hardly contain my smile.

“So stubborn.” He’s the one mumbling now and my efforts to keep a smile at bay fail me and he notices almost immediately.

“Oh, you think this is funny? Let’s see how funny it is when I drive you home every night until I have your car fixed.” And my smile is effectively replaced with lips parting and eyes narrowing at the handsome man beside me. Okay, it’s not necessarily a bad thing to get more time with a handsome man such as himself, but the fact he’s so determined unnerves me.

“You’re not the boss of me, okay? I understand you’re used to bossing everyone around and having things your way, but I’m not a doll you can play with and expect to obey your unwritten rules.” Pulling my bag closer to my chest, I avert my gaze to the window, looking out to see he is driving me straight home because as he said it before, he knows where I live.

“I’m sorry.” He says through gritted teeth, like the words in his mouth are alien, acid. I’m sure he’s not the type to spew apologies often. It makes me appreciate the effort even more.

“I just want you safe. Is that a good enough reason to drive you home after I destroyed your car?” He asks, stopping in front of my building and I turn to him with a smile when he unlocks my door.

“You finally admit it.” I grant him a smile, moving to open the door with my right hand when he takes my left one. He brings it to his lips, pressing the back of it into his heavenly plush and I’m sure the gesture made me blush like a schoolgirl.

“See you tomorrow, doll.”

And I did.

Grayson wasn’t shy about his frequent visits and I didn’t hide how happy those visits made me. I know I said he and I wouldn’t work because he’d never give me time of the day, but I was wrong. The more time I got to spend with him on the rides after work, the more I craved his company.

The first night after centered on a squabble for the radio.

“The driver picks music!” He slapped my hand away and I slapped his right back.

“I’d be the driver if I had my car, you know.” I narrowed my eyes at him and his devilish smirk widened at my remark.

“You can’t play the guilt card forever, you know?” He emphasized the last bit, mimicking my voice to the best of his ability to provoke a response and he definitely got one. I hogged the radio for the rest of our drives as result of him being unable to handle my silent treatment.

Our interactions in the club remained professional for the most part, nothing to make anyone suspicious, no one knowing the truth but his brother who always minded his own business as if to give us a sense of privacy.

Night after night, I went to work with a smile, finally content with my life.

Day after day, I looked forward to the darkness that takes the city hostage for hours on end because that darkness brought me him.

‘I won’t be in tonight, doll. I’ll come by to pick you up after.’

My heart sunk at the thought of our time being cut short tonight, making the shift drag on. That’s until I was requested by name in the VIP section.

Happy to know he made it anyway, I grab his usual and rush to the table I’m used to seeing him at. I used to dread it, but it’s become my favorite part of the club.

However, once I walk in there, Grayson isn’t the one in the seat.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir. What would you like to order?” I quickly plaster on my fake smile, letting the professional in me take over as I scan the slightly older man and the snake tattoos on his neck. Swallowing thickly as he allowed himself the time to look me up and down like I’m there for his pleasure instead to serve him drinks, I used the time to properly remember him for future needs.

He’s someone I need to beware of, I just felt it.

“Don’t worry, doll. You got my drink just right. You with a side of whiskey.” The man spoke, his voice rough like sandpaper, my nickname sounding unnatural coming from him. It’s the nickname Grayson had given me and after a lot of bickering about it, I’ve learned to love it – love the way he said it with a longing smile and an oddly gentle look in his eye. This man said it like it was a swear word, something that is meant to harm you.

“I’m afraid I’m not on the menu, but the drinks sure are.” I remark, placing the drinks in front of him and his two men, showing him no fear. But I am scared. You can easily tell who the bad guy is and this guy seems to be one of the worst.

“That’s too bad, doll. I thought it said Y/N on here.” He leans back, raising his left leg up so his left ankle rests on his right knee. He’s spread out in his seat, trying to take as much space as he can and he isn’t shy about making sure I know it when he reaches for his dick to scratch.

Disgusting.

“How do you know my name?” I quirk a brow, feeling my brain catching up with his words. He’s using my nickname, my name and he’s sitting in this particular booth.

“Tell my old friend Grayson, Damien sends his regards. Can you handle that, doll?” Even the mention of Grayson’s name makes my heart pick up pace, the back of my neck now drenched in cold sweat and my fingers numbing from fear.

“I’m not sure who you’re referring to, sir.” I lie through my teeth, hearing my inner voice warning me this man is not to be trusted. Whatever it is that he wants, I can’t let him know about my friendship with Grayson.

“Oh, I think you do, doll.” He winks at me, casually bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip before I take a step back and politely smile back as expected of me.

“If that’s all, I have to get back to the bar.” I duck out of there as fast as possible, minding my walk so it doesn’t seem like I’m running. I can’t let them know they inspired fear, because that would give away all I’ve tried to hide.

Locking myself in the bathroom, I quickly text Grayson.

‘Who the hell is Damien and why is he telling me to send you his regards?!’

No answer.

‘Grayson, he called me doll the entire time and he sat in your booth, in your seat and requested me by name.’ I type furiously, my fingers trembling as I do. I find myself picking at my nail polish nervously, feeling my mind is on fire with the waiting period. Any answer on his behalf would soothe me, but I can’t even breathe until I finally hear the sound.

My phone rings.

“Get out of there now!” Grayson shouts and I frown, looking around the bathroom panicked. I was wrong. His voice didn’t soothe me for I could hear the worry laced behind his shouting and it made the dread in my stomach that much worse.

“Why? What’s going on?” I question, my words coming out fast just as my legs turn to jelly.

“I’ll be there in five, already on my way, doll.” There it is…the glorious sound of my nickname coming from his lips – so effortlessly beautiful.

“O-okay.” I grimace as I stutter, hating the fear that crept up to me and took over every cell in my body.

“Just breathe, okay? Leave everything and don’t tell anyone you’re going out.” I listen to his instructions, but I can’t just leave.

“If I do that, I’ll lose this job. Grayson, I need this job!” I fumble with my apron, unable to untie the knot with just one hand. Pressing the phone against my cheek with the support of my left shoulder, I use my nails to untie the damn knot and the apron falls to the bathroom floor.

“Fuck the job! I’ll find you a different job! A better one! But you have to leave. Y/N, do you trust me?” Grayson’s panic overwhelms me, for I never heard this man sound quite so worried other than the night he asked for my keys. I know how well that turned out, so his worry translates to me freaking out.

Pausing before answering, my eyes closed shut as I try to silence my mind for a moment to think.

“Doll, trust me. Please.” And that’s when I know what to do without thinking.

Grayson Dolan is a man of many virtues, but begging wasn’t one of them. He’s the man who demands and makes things happen. Such men don’t strike you as someone who plead often. And this was Grayson Dolan pleading, asking me to do something irrational without an explanation and I trusted him.

In that moment, I trusted him with my life.

“Alright.” I press my lips together, opening the door and quickly moving around the dancing drunken people. Looking around, I made my way to the nearest exit, shutting the door behind me and walking into the alley.

“I’m almost there. Stay on the line.” Grayson’s voice shakes me up, reminding me he’s still there. I wouldn’t have heard him inside, but I heard him perfectly in this moment. Now it offers some of that comfort I craved, letting my knots be untied slowly.

He’s coming for me. I’m going to be okay.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” That rough, sinister voice made my heart stop beating and breath halt in my throat. Turning around, I blinked slow, afraid of the man who licked his lips and flicked his cigar to the side like he just found his entertainment for tonight.

“I’m just taking a break. Talking to my sister and her husband.” I point to the phone, making up an excuse and hoping to hear Grayson on the other end. But the line is silent.

Fuck. I just need to hear his voice to calm down, but without it, I feel myself slipping into the clutches of pure fear.

“Ah, family. How cute. My family is tight too.” He comes closer to me, pushing back his wavy tapper and I notice a vertical scar running along his entire right side of the face.

“Very tight.” He repeats, making sure I understood him well. The closer he gets, the more steps I take back to keep the distance between us. But I know should he wish it, I’d be caught in his grip shortly. I’m no match for him.

“Now, why don’t we get acquainted better and you can tell Grayson how good I made you feel?” He sneers, grabbing both my hands and pushing me into the wall next to me, slamming my head into it in the process.

My thought process is jumbled, my eyes barely opening from the impact and I feel warm liquid dripping down my neck as he presses closer to me, fumbling with his jeans. All my fight or flight instincts kick in as I drive my left knee up and into his nether region immediately.

He groans, doubling down before growling like a wounded beast. I stumble forward, still hazy from the blow and stop dead in my tracks when bright lights blind me and arms grab onto me. I fall into a hard chest, feeling warmth engulf me and a familiar scent of cologne intoxicates my senses.

It’s Grayson. I need no vision to see when my heart feels him.

“Take her.” He pushes me into someone else, the warmth and smell changing, but I don’t feel any less safe. I know he’d never let someone untrustworthy hold me.

I still turn around, looking at his dark figure over my right shoulder.

“Gray.” I manage to croak out, weak and faint.

He glances at me with his eyes wide in worry and a soft expression on his face.

Until Damien coughs, laughing.

In split second, I saw Grayson’s eyes turn dark and cloudy with hatred and rage, his face contorting, hardening as every muscle clenched and it didn’t look like Grayson I know anymore.

This is a machine.

“Take her!” He barks a command at the man holding me, walking toward Damien with hands turned to fists – each of his fists reflecting light off the brass knuckles on them. My eyes widen and I trash against the man who tightens his hold on me.

I watch Grayson begin throwing punches as I’m dragged into the back seat of a Jeep, realizing it’s Ethan who has me.

“Don’t look. Okay? Just look at me?” Ethan takes my face in his hands, keeping it steady as I hear the grunts, swearing in the distance. I could barely focus on anything, the ringing in my ears growing louder and my vision blurring. For a moment I was sure I saw them both, but it was just Ethan’s face doubling before my eyes. Not a bad sight to witness.

“I’m not…f-feeling w-w-well.” I stammer, my eyes rolling back into my skull as the last things I hear before passing out are a loud “FUCK” and a gunshot cracking in the air as loud as thunder.

**

Waking up to a splitting headache and hushed bickering left me with a dire need to calm my wild heart. Squinting because the light is too bright for me to process properly, I shield my eyes from the brightness with a hand raised toward the ceiling. Using my other hand to help my heavy body into a sitting position, I push my legs over the edge touching the hardwood floor with the tips of my toes.

Grabbing my head with both hands in an attempt to keep it on my shoulder, I grimace from the aches I started to feel in my entire body. The nausea didn’t help either.

Forcing myself to look around, I found myself in a bright, airy room with dominant white and red colors thanks to the squeaky clean look the room held. The walls are white as pearls, sheets a deep maroon to match the antique looking furniture around me. Every cabinet, drawer, even the closet door are a reddish color with flowery and bird themes. To my surprise, there’s even a keyboard in one corner, a guitar right beside the bed and several potted plants around.

All in all, I have no idea where I am and it brings the disorienting feeling to maximum level. Dizzy, barely holding myself up, I decide to follow the hushed voices. Mostly leaning on the wall, I find the door, entering a long hall with yellow and red colors, words written on the walls and paintings on them I barely looked at as my movements took most my concentration.

Finally at the end of the hall, I peak through the ajar door and find Grayson with his brother.

“You need to fucking cut this shit out, bro!” Ethan leaned toward Grayson who kept his back turned to the door.

“You can’t be out there starting a war for a girl you’re not even with! Have some fucking sense!” Ethan shouted and I bite my lower lip to stop it from quivering once I remember the gunshot I heard just before passing out.

“I’m not an idiot, alright? He’s pushing my boundaries to see how far he can go and if I let him start picking off my people, even the ones that aren’t officially in our crew, that’s when he’ll find us vulnerable.” Grayson reasoned, turning back around and no amount of lip biting could stop me from gasping at the sight, attracting unwanted attention with it.

Grayson’s white shirt was redder than the furniture in his room, more than my nail polish. His sleeves pulled to his elbows reveal his tattooed arms tainted with blood so much so his blue ink was barely visible under the matted substance. His face is coated in blood droplets, his neck bearing the marks as well.

“Y/N?” Grayson says my name with wide eyes as if he didn’t expect to see me right now, but all I can think is ‘run’.

No matter what he meant to me so far, this was too much for anyone to handle. He had hurt someone and I couldn’t make myself stay and look at him any longer. I don’t care that the person he hurt was scum, or that it was for me, only that his hands aren’t clean and he’s unpredictable.

Stumbling back in hopes of running, my legs give out and I fall flat on my ass with a pained ‘oof’, panic taking over me once he opens the door and I realize I can’t run.

Propped up only by my hands, legs tucked closer to me, eyes flickering from one twin to the other, I start dragging myself back and away from him.

Grayson takes a step closer and I feel a scream forming in my throat and just before I let it out, Ethan grabs his brother by the arm and pulls him back.

“Bro, look at her. She’s terrified of us.”

Grayson turned his eyes to me, a gentle look in his eyes just as it was when I called him Gray. But a speck of blood by his right eye is enough to keep me rooted and not give into his charmingly good looks. The fear sits on me like a pillow over my mouth and nose. Enough air gets by it, allowing my body to keep functioning, but it's crippling all the same. I never thought I’d be scared of Grayson Dolan ever again, the feeling so foreign after all the sweet moments we’ve shared.

Was it all an illusion?

“Y/N.” He starts slowly, lifting his hands up toward me in surrender, slowly bending down until he sits on the floor on his knees.

“It’s still me, okay?” His voice is softened, laced with care and worry, but I shake my head in denial.

“It’s not you. You’re not the Grayson Dolan I know.” I reply, barely keeping my voice from spiraling into the wailing cracks I’ve felt tearing at my throat.

“Doll…” He tries, the corners of his lips twitching as he swallows thickly, struggling to find the right words to say. But to call me that name again…that’s not the right thing, not by a long shot.

“Don’t call me that!” I shout, my own loudness echoing inside my head. Forced to shut my eyes until the sudden wave of pain wavers, I struggle to breathe with images of all the times Grayson showed me kindness overwhelm me.

Why is my own brain working against me?

“I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.” He says quietly, his voice just above a whisper but calm and steady.

The adrenaline floods my system like it's on an intravenous drip - right into my blood at full pelt. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide, letting in every ounce of the fading light. My body wants to either run fast for the hills or work to find weaponry, but instead I stay right where I am. Sometimes freezing is the best of the choices, and let's face it, there really are only three.

“Who the hell are you, Grayson? Really?” I question, pushing myself forward to relieve my arms from the pressure of holding me up entirely. I wasn’t leaving anytime soon due to my inability to stand and the dizziness settling in, but I also needed answers.

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know, just…Not now. You need to rest now.” Grayson offered me his hand to take and I narrowed my eyes at him – not only in suspicion and judgement, but to focus long enough to see him well enough instead of three blurry versions of him.

“I can’t rest with...”I pause, swallowing my spit to keep myself from throwing up.

“With a man drenched in blood who I obviously know nothing about.” I finish the words, seeing his curt nod at the last moment before he stands up.

“When you stop seeing double, I’ll answer all your questions. Until then, my brother will take you to sleep as the doctor requested after giving you those sedatives. Goodnight.” Grayson’s jaw clenched before he turned around and walked out, leaving me alone with Ethan who huffed before he crouched beside me.

I instantly relax, refusing to feel guilty about the hurt in Grayson’s eyes.

“Can’t get up, huh?” He guessed about right, a half smile on his face when he notices me nod in defeat.

“Let’s go, princess.” The next thing I know I’m wrapped in his arms, my head on his shoulder as the small steps he takes lull me to sleep before he even puts me down.

**

Waking up once more in the white room I now recognize faintly, I rub my eyes but remain lying down. Breathing softly, I stare at the ceiling for minutes…maybe hours before I’m ready to get up and face whatever the mystery of Grayson Dolan is.

Looking to the nightstand, I find a glass of water with tiny bubbles of air pushing themselves at the edges of the glass signifying it’s been there for a while now. Besides the glass, there’s a pill with a note next to it and I sit up with a low groan as my head still hurts bad.

Aspirin. Drink it, put on the clothes laid out in the bathroom and come downstairs. If you want to shower, there’s warm water and clean towels as well.

Eyeing the note, I see no one’s signed it. Assuming it’s Ethan’s handwriting, I get up and make my way to the bathroom which is immaculate just as the room. It smells…clean.

I quickly take a shower, noticing some blood wash out of my hair in the process and I remember my head smashing into a concrete wall that night as well. It’s probably why my head’s so badly hurt and my senses barely work.

Towel drying my hair and body, I pick up the clothes with caution and examine them. A black shirt that acts as a dress on me, falling all the way down to my knees. A fresh pair of underwear that suspiciously looks like something I already own and knee high male socks. That’s what’s left for me and I have no choice but put them on for my own clothes are far too dirty to be worn again before washing.

The minute I walk out the room, I’m back in the hallway with a little more focus than the night before. The walls are painted into a sunrise and the words written go with the painting – House of the rising sun.

I could smell breakfast in the air, eggs and toast most likely from what I could tell. My stomach turned, crying for something of substance to be given for digestion as the mating song of whales sounded. Rubbing it gently, I walked downstairs, finding the kitchen on my far right.

Walking into the room made life stop as everyone turned to look at me, frozen in the moment and I’ve never felt so self-conscious before. It’s as if I’m standing naked on stage with every eye in the house focused on my every flaw. No make-up, no clothes that fit my body and no dimmed lights to hide anything. I’m just me and I’m painfully aware of that as my eyes find Grayson’s before averting my gaze to the floor.

Grayson, Ethan and two women sat at the table, all staring at me.

“Well come on in, we won’t bite.” The older woman beckoned me to come closer and take a seat, standing up to help me which I’m very grateful for considering I’m still unsure on my feet.

“Thank you.” I keep my eyes on the table, pursing my lips slightly as a plate is set before me.

“How are you feeling?” The other girl asks and I look up politely, faking a smile for social purposes.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck and then trapped in a nightmare.” My response makes the girl chuckle. She claps her hands together, leaning forward.

“I like you.” She lets me know and I furrow my brows, daring to look at Grayson who’s still unmoving and his eyes remain trained on me. He’s watching me carefully for any reaction, making me more nervous than before.

Unable to stop myself from hyper salivating at the food in front of me, I practically chowed down on the contents until there was barely a crumb left.

“Well, we should go back. The jet awaits.” The older woman stood, wiping her mouth with a napkin before planting a kiss on both brother’s foreheads and the younger one simply flipped them off and sent me a small wave.

I looked at the girls in slight panic, feeling much safer with them there.

“Don’t let my sons fool you, okay? They’re still very much little boys with golden hearts and pure souls.” The older woman pecks my cheek and I find myself gobsmacked with the realization that this was Grayson’s mother and I barely spoke to the woman. The other girl looked a lot like them, guessing it was their sister.

“I’ll walk you out, ma’” Ethan gently put his arm around his mother, guiding her out the room, the other girl already gone – leaving me alone with Grayson.

He clears his throat awkwardly, picking up the dishes and I help him silently.

“You should, uh, rest. I’ll do it.” Grayson takes the dishes from me, his fingers brushing mine and it’s like a bolt of electricity rushing from my fingers up my arms. Retracting them fast, I wrap my arms around myself, leaning on the counter while he cleans up.

“Your mother seems nice.” I state, unable to handle the silence. There’s too many unsaid things between us and I know he doesn’t technically owe me any answers, but I deserve to know what went down that night. I’m probably jobless, carless and soon to be homeless – all since I met him and we’re not even together.

“Much nicer than my sister.” He muses and I smile, happy I got that right.

“So, you…probably want to talk now?” I don’t miss the nervous tapping of his fingers against the counter nor the way he avoids looking at me now. Grayson isn’t the type to get nervous, but he sure as hell looked to be drowning in his nerves in this particular moment.

“Would be good to know why my life went up in flames.” I shrug, pressing my lips together and a breathless chuckle accompanied by a quick nod is my response.

“I want to be completely honest with you.” Grayson walks by me and I follow after without a word. He walks out the kitchen and toward the stairs, continuing.

“We’re about to go full dark, no stars and if you can’t handle some things, now would be a good time to tell me.” Grayson warns and I feel my heart fall, uncertain with the darkness he offers to show me. I’ve always been afraid of the dark, even more so of falling…in any way and I’ve found myself at a doorstep with both my fears on the other side – his dark side and my feelings for him that continue to grow even with everything I’ve learned about him so far.

We walk upstairs, back to the room I woke up in – the sheets already changed and the fresh smell circulating the room.

“Hope you found the bed comfortable. It’s been serving me well for years.” He glances over his shoulder, gauging my reaction and I find myself uneasy, but also excited over the fact. It’s his room. This entire room is a testament to his colorful personality – clean cut, but various shades of the good and the bad swirling inside him.

“Uh, yeah. Really comfy.” I proceed to plop on the fluff, watching him sit on a chair by his keyboard, turning fully to face me.

“Are you prepared to hear the ugly truth or should I sugarcoat everything?” He questions and I roll my eyes at him.

“Don’t lie to my anymore. I want to know everything.”

He nods approvingly, almost impressed by my assertiveness.

“Well, I’ll speak frankly. I’ve always believed that the ability to speak to someone without overthinking your words, to be at ease with someone so much that you trust them with your deepest darkest truths…that is the definition of true l – friendship.” He stops himself just in time, redefining whatever was at the top of his tongue and I nod, agreeing with him.

3rd Person POV

“My business runs much deeper than the world knows. It includes a lot of legitimate establishments, many outstanding businesses, but also some that aren’t as legal to say.” Oh how bewildered she looked, so doubtful and quizzical. So reluctant to facing the real facts although she knew one day she would face no choice, for she was trying so hard to stop the vicious, secular things her mind was already turning his truths into...She was only beginning to know him and already she was overwhelmed by all she knew. But she had to know all he is for all he is all she cares for, but to know him is to love him and so she felt herself shake with fear of falling for a man as magnificent, as dangerous as Grayson Dolan.

“I own illegal casinos, speak easy in every damn city you can name, gentlemen’s clubs – some legitimate and some for specific clientele, gun trading and internet companies, art thievery and many more…In my world I am known as the leader of The House of the rising sun and it’s a gang on a global scale.” His words rip through her like glass shards do to skin, but he can barely tell if she’s shaking because he’s started to tremble himself. It’s strange to feel so nervous around a girl he barely knew, but he did know her. He knew almost everything about her and there was no way of denying it.

He knew her mood just by her smile, noticing the stiffness of her cheeks when she fake smiled at demanding customers and the real one she beamed at him more often than not. He knew her favorite color is baby blue and favorite car brand is a Porsche. He knew of her family and her desire to leave the small town she was born in. He learned of her financial struggles and her desire to attend Columbia. He knew she chewed on her bottom lip when she’s nervous, just as she picks at her nails because her nail polish was always damaged at the sides. He knew she washed her hair every night because he could smell the lavender scent every time she leaned down to put his drinks on the table. He knew her lilac perfume was store brand and nothing fancy like the girls he’s used to usually have on, but he learned to enjoy the smell for it reminded him of her. There are a thousand things he knows about her that aren’t in any research his men did for him, simply by observing her every night for as long as he could without compromising himself. So yes, he cared for her and her opinion of him.

“And that man…Damien was the son of my biggest rival. The man was a snake and he broke major rules that night.” Grayson’s hand formed a fist, the memory of what he almost did to Y/N washing over him only ignite the fire that barely extinguished itself once he saw the fear in her beautiful eyes the night before.

“Was?” She asks cautiously. She trembles and shivers, then looks at him with pleading eyes. Hoping, just hoping not to hear the words that without doubt would reaffirm her initial fear of what truly happened that night.

“He’s no longer an issue.” Grayson replies, flexing his arms and the inked biceps grow under the pressure before deflating ever so slightly.

“How many people have you killed?” Y/N stands, her hand covering her mouth. So frantic of the deceitfulness of the forthcoming actuality.

“Too many to count…But I know why they’re dead. They threatened me and my family. My loved ones. No one can do that and live. Not while I’m around.” Grayson stood as well, noticing her hand fall and her bottom lip is trapped between her pearly whites, being tortured as she nibbles on it.

He wanted to do that badly, to bruise her lips as he bit it while her lips molded with his.

“You can’t just go around killing people! You let the law handle it!” She exclaimed, watching him shake his head vehemently.

“The only justice in this world is the one we make ourselves.” Deciding to table the discussion of morality for now, she shook her head and looked at him.

“So why did I become a target?” She put her hands on her hips, releasing the soft flesh of her bottom lip a shade darker, enticing Grayson to lick his lips.

“I’ve come to…care…for you.” He paused between each statement, searching for words that aren’t quite heavy and are easily taken back should need be.

“And now what?” Y/N tilts her head up, meeting his gaze in determination.

“You’ll be in danger for a while and I can’t in good consciousness let you go back to your old life. Staying here with me is the best way to go.” Grayson’s words make her scoff, but once he raises his eyebrows to her little huff and puff show she realizes he’s serious.

“I can’t drop everything just so you can babysit me!” Her voice goes higher than Grayson knew it could, pushing forth a dirty thought about him eliciting the same sound from her in bed.

“Grayson!” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, forcing him to look at her again.

“You either stay and let me deal with this issue or go home and get yourself killed. Your choice.” He turned to walk out the room, but her hand quickly clasped on his shoulder and he stopped, turning to her halfway.

“I’ll also go stir crazy if you force me to sit alone in this big old house with nothing to do.” She sighs, defeat written in every line of the pretty face he admired.

“You can help me organize my paperwork.” Grayson offered, reminding himself to mess the paperwork up for he always kept his records straight. But she didn’t have to know that.

The smile that spread on her lips assured him she’s on board, relaxing his heart for a while.

While she demanded a different room to stay in, despite his offer to share a bed, Grayson granted her a room right next to his. He wanted her close just in case something happened.

“How do you know we’re safe here?” She once asked him, making him chuckle.

“This is my city. Only a man with a death wish would dare step foot in this street, let alone my house.” And it calmed her for a while, but it didn’t make the possibility disappear from her worries.

Working with him whenever he’s home, Y/N learned a lot more about his alleged businesses. All of them proved to be lucrative, bringing in millions upon millions to his bank accounts. Several of them – most hidden in offshore locations for insurance. She also found him to be a generous donor to many children hospitals and cancer research centers, for homeless people and ASPCA. Even though she absolutely refused to admit it to herself, it made his room inside her heart grow.

She learned he likes his morning coffee black and anymore caffeine would drive his anxiety up to impossible levels which made her restrict his caffeine intake. She also learned he’s very quiet when work is involved, but also ruthless when necessary. She found him to be a little cold toward her, but the iceberg slowly melted over time – finding him staring at her whenever he thought she wouldn’t notice. But she did.

She did.

She found him to be lactose intolerant and both brothers refused to take any dairy products, which she loved teasing them about. Surprisingly, she learned he’s also got mild asthma and so many allergies she lost count of – starting with seasonal allergies down to animal allergies. Even with her love for all things furry, she didn’t mind a possibility of a life without them.

It dawned on her when she ended up running her fingers through his hair when she tried to wake him up in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep and just wanted to talk to him. Even more when he woke with a soft smile, tapping the spot beside him for her to take. He didn’t yell or complain of her being a nuisance, but allowed her to ramble about her most ridiculous fears about dark and falling in love or out of an airplane which she claimed to be the same thing.

“What are you afraid of?” She asked quietly, wanting to know what makes a man like him cower in fear and hide.

“Closed spaces.” He sighed, turning on his side to look at her profile – the cheeks, her nose, the way her eyes light up even in the dark.

“I’m not a man with many fears, Y/N.” He adds, seeing her nod with a smile.

“Guessed as much.” She puts a hand over her chest, subtly glancing at him.

“Why do you care so much about that Impala?” Grayson asks the tough questions and she turns to her side now as well, their faces so close their noses are inches apart.

“It’s uh…well. I spent four years of high school working odd jobs and collecting every nickel I earned to ensure I have something to use as a way to leave town. Four years and the only thing I could afford was that piece of junk that took me here. When I started my first year in NYU, I didn’t even have a job or a place to live. Impala was my home for months. I slept in the university parking lot, the night security noticing and taking pity by promising to watch over the car so I can get a decent night of sleep without worrying someone will break in and…It represents a big part of my life. All I’ve worked for, the shelter it provided…an adventure. All of it.” She admits, bearing her soul open for him to see and he had nothing short but admiration for the girl before him. She’s much stronger than he gave her credit for and he realized he can’t write her off as easily as he thought. She might be able to handle his lifestyle, him and all it brings.

Throwing his arm over her hip lazily, Grayson brought her closer to him, hearing her breath speed up at the proximity, but so did his.

He didn’t love her, he desired her most of all. He desired her gaze on him as desperately as the air he needs to breath. He desired her skin against his as the food he’d need to live. He desired her lips to speak his name in ecstasy more than the water as he thirsted for her more than anything else in this world.

And in his desire for her he had lost himself entirely. He had lost his cold exterior, becoming putty in her hands. He had lost his ruthlessness toward her, directing it to any and all who’d harm her. He had lost his resolve to stay away simply so he’d give into her with all he is.

So with that desire and the loss of him, he hated her for all of it. He hated her with burning passion. He hated her so much it consumed him.

Or so he told himself so. For in the end, he did nothing to push her away.

He couldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Logic demanded him to stop acting the way he is, but his entire logic went out the window the night he met her and that creep put his hands on her. He’s no longer a part of the living anymore either. She’s become his cornerstone and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it didn’t change. It’s become factual.

“Gray.” She whispered in the haze his closeness brought him, making his lips spread widely.

“I’ve been waiting for two months to hear you call me that again.” Grayson’s not ashamed to admit to it, remembering his own pledge of honesty.

“I held off on it…it makes us too cozy for comfort. Blurs the lines a little.” Her hand presses forward into the bicep of the arm around her, her teeth capturing her bottom lip once more.

“Oh, doll, you have no idea what you do to me at all.” Grayson leans in, his nose brushing hers as all pretense falls. He no longer has the strength to stay away and she doesn’t want him to. It’s been seven months since they met and every moment since then has been filled with mutual desire and need to fulfill their fantasies.

Her hand moves to the side of his face, grazing the two day old stubble he grew simply because she dared him to. He’s never let his facial hair grow before, finding the look unkempt and dirty but the look he saw on her face as he grew the hair made it worth it. He knew it would come in handy eventually and he knew, even in the darkness of the room, that she bore the same look now.

Her heart races as she glances between his lips and his eyes, knowing what he’s thinking. She’s not exactly a virgin, but she’s barely experienced in sex and knowing he must have bedded girls who have not only experience but incredible looks had her doubting her own skill and retreating.

“Hey, hey. What did I do?” Grayson wondered, his voice unusually soft and understanding.

“I just…I’m not sure what’s happening right now.” She admits sheepishly, finding Grayson turn to his other side. Just when she thinks he’s angry and wants to leave her, he turns on the nightlight and comes back to her side with a genuine smile on his lips.

“I was moments away from indulging in my fantasy of feeling your lips against mine.” He responds so casually that Y/N coughs, nearly choking on her own spit.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” He’s really not holding back, she thinks, shaking her head shyly, her lip finding its spot back between her teeth.

“How many times have you had sex before?” Grayson asks, her eyes widening and her hands covering her face before she turned on her back.

“I thought you were going to just kiss me!” Exclaiming, she giggled, finding it hard to maintain eye contact.

“You and I both know that neither of us would stop at a kiss, no matter how hard we try.” Grayson cocks his eyebrow, noticing one of her hands drop lower and make way for her to look at him with her left eye.

“Once and it was so bad, I barely felt anything but the moment I was no longer a virgin, okay?! I’m not experienced like you and I have no clue what to do, so stop looking at me all sexy like that and let me breathe man!” She dropped both her hands from her face during her little freak out before sitting up in frustration and he sat up, chuckling at her behavior.

“What’s so funny?!” She pushed his right shoulder lightly, annoyed with him. There she is, opening up like never before and he laughs at her.

“The fact that you think I’d judge you for that or the fact that you think you and I having sex would ever compare to the girls I had before. They were all a one night stand.” He laid down, perching himself up on his right elbow so his damn abs were visible in all their perfection and Y/N could barely contain herself.

“And I’d be what exactly?” She pushes for answers he looked ready to provide her with, her heart jumping nervously in her chest.

“Something I’d like to repeat over and over again. I wouldn’t oppose to call it…” He paused, licking his lips. “Dating.” He finished, looking at her wide eyes.

“You’re asking me to be with you? Like, exclusive?” She raised an eyebrow, shifting in her spot so she’s turned to him. Even without her make-up, she’s now accustomed to Grayson seeing her without it and still complimenting her puffy face in the morning when she’s stumbling in the kitchen with Ethan, unable to speak so early before having some breakfast first. It’s something in common she shared with his brother and Grayson found it both frustrating and endearing. And beautiful. He found her truly beautiful with and without make up.

“I guess so. But…I have to be honest with you.” He ran his left hand through his hair, moving it out of his face.

“I’ll never put anything or anyone before my work. That business is my number one priority. The men that work for me and their safety will be my number one priority. You can’t get in the way of that. Ever. Because I will choose The house of the rising sun over you every time.” The painfully honest confession had her frowning, but her desire for him eclipsed her thinking.

She assumed that the choice would never come and she could let herself get lost in Grayson without consequence.

“Okay.” She whispered, letting out a dash of air she held while he stated his terms.

Y/N sighs and leans up, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Grayson doesn’t move, letting her take the lead if that’s what she needs to feel comfortable. He’s actually still in shock she’s okay with what he had to offer her, which isn’t much.

It isn’t love, just fun and he hoped she understood that.

Grayson looks as she lays back down, her hair tied in a loose braid barely hanging on her left shoulder as gravity settles in. He brushes his nose against hers, using his fingers to tug at the hair clip that held her hair together. Slowly, he leans down, just centimeters above her face, unraveling her braid one strand at a time. It’s painfully slow, building up the moment and her chest rise and fall with a quicker pace as he takes his time in the sweet torture. His lips are ghosting over hers before he tilts his head and starts kissing down her jaw.

She hums, eyes closing with Grayson’s movements.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll.” He whispers as her hand reaches down his abdomen, lightly tracing the outlines of his abs. He moves his hand down, reaching for the hem of her shirt, urging her to tug it off.

Y/N sits up and tugs her shirt off, exposing her sports bra and Grayson sends her a smirk as she shyly groans.

“This is so unplanned, it’s not even funny.”

Grayson eyes her, but the smirk disappears as she pushes up and wraps her hands around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to hers. His hands go down to either side of her head as she lays back and pulls him down with her. The kiss deepens and she moans into Grayson’s mouth as he rolls his hips against hers, his hardened length pressing between her legs already. She’s felt more in this make out session than her entire first time experience and she couldn’t contain her excitement about going further with him.

Grayson detaches his lips from hers only to reattach them to the sensitive skin of her neck, learning quickly where she’s most sensitive to his gentle touch. Her eyes close as she tilts her head, giving him more access. He moves one of the straps of her bra aside, enough to start sucking a small mark close to her collarbone. A pleasure-filled sigh falls from her lips as her hand comes up to Grayson’s back, lightly pressing her nails into his skin. A low breath falls from Grayson’s mouth with the sensation, but he continues to leave the hickey, running his tongue over the spot once he’s done to soothe the skin. He wanted to mark her, for his satisfaction alone but judging by the sound she made, it was very much mutual pleasure.

She pushes up, pulling the bra off herself, wanting to move faster, growing impatient.

A smirk comes to Grayson’s face while he wraps his arms around her, bowing his head to press open mouth kisses around her collarbones and down her chest until he reaches her well rounded breasts that he found alluring for months in the dim light of the club she worked in and now he finally had full access, nothing holding him back. One of his hands comes from behind her and plays with one of her nipples, getting a moan for his effort, one of her hands going back to the bed to hold herself up while Grayson’s mouth starts working on the other nipple.

With her eyes closed as she begins to lose herself in the sensation his lips cause, her hips start to buck forward into Grayson’s on instinct.

She pulls Grayson’s head from her breast, bringing his lips to hers before pulling him down with her and pushing his shoulder for her to get on top. His hands instinctively go to her hips, digging his fingers into the soft tissue over the bone. He loves that she’s got some meat on her bones, giving him something to squeeze and hold onto while his mind goes haywire.

Y/N follows the same pattern Grayson did to her neck, satisfied once she’s left her mark on his skin. She kisses her way down his chest, slow enough that it’s becoming teasing. She’s not doing it on purpose, but Grayson’s shaking his head and biting his tongue in order to stop himself from groaning out loud.

Once she reached the hem of the briefs he sleeps in, she slips her thumbs into the waistband, pulling them off and moving to allow him to kick them all the way off while she strips herself of her own underwear before kissing up his thighs and to his hip, around his pelvis and back up his chest, this time intentionally avoiding his twitching length.

She wasn’t sure what to do exactly, only knowing what she read in erotic novels and she was fairly certain they don’t count as proper research for sexual acts.

“Gonna tease me like that all night, doll?” Grayson’s voice is raw with lust as her lips meet his, feeling her core hovering over his length with every nerve in his body.

“If you’re going to look at me like that, I just might.” A cocky smirk comes to her face as she pulls away to meet his stare.

“Fuck no.” Grayson growls, hands coming up to up her face, lips colliding with hers a little rougher than before and she can tell he’s aching for her.

“No more teasing, please.” He mutters against her lips, giving her confidence she’s been lacking. It’s the third time she’s ever heard Grayson Dolan pleading and all those times have been with her. If that doesn’t empower a woman, nothing does.

Without saying a word, Grayson reaches beside her and opens his nightstand drawer for a condom, feeling her smile against his lips. Her legs slightly giving out, she slides her folds against Grayson’s length, inadvertently teasing him while he opens the condom and puts it in place with a few beads of sweat collecting on his chest.

Once ready, Grayson turns them over, his head is against her collarbone, hers against the pillows. He lines his length up with her center, brushing his tip across her folds a few times before stopping entirely.

“You sure, doll?” Grayson wants nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her, but he needs to make sure she’s alright with the way things are going. Before this night they were barely anything concrete and now he’s sweaty and his heart is pounding at the sight of her ready for him and he can’t mess this up by not being absolutely certain she wanted him just as badly as he wants her.

“Gray, please.” With hooded eyes, she’s the one pleading, her hands holding onto his arms for dear life as he slowly pushes into her the very moment he gets reassurance. He feels her fingers dig into his shoulders just as his dig into her hips.

He doesn’t move, opting to rest his forehead against hers, feeling her breath fan his face. Grayson’s aware he’s bigger than most guys and this being only her second time, he mentally face palmed for not preparing her more. He’s just so eager he couldn’t contain himself, but he managed to enter without issue, slowly filling her up inch by inch until he bottomed out, remaining still to let her adjust to his size before grinding into her.

His thrusts are met by her own hips moving on instinct, grunts and moans filling the air and become louder as he increases his pace. He feels himself getting closer, her clenching around him letting him know she’s not too far behind. He can tell by the expression of pure bliss and lust on her face and the pitch of her moans growing just to the sound he wished to get her to make that she’s getting close, so he takes a hand from her hip and presses his thumb to her clit. She jerks forward, a higher moan escaping her throat. His thumb is relentless, keeping its pace until she’s clenching around him and yelling his name, his own grunts and moans coming to an end when his movement turns jerky and he all but collapses on top of her.

Her heart pounds as her sweaty chest meets his head, giving him a perfect way to hear just what he has done to her. He presses a couple of lazy kisses on her chest, resituating on her, planting his feet on the bed but he doesn’t move, not yet.

“Gray.” She whispers, bringing a smile to his lips. Knowing he just felt her first orgasm and that he’s responsible put him on cloud nine. He barely held it together, never ever being the type to fall into a girl and remain there as she scratched the back of his neck like he just did, allowing her to touch him after sex.

“You good, doll?” He asks, barely lifting his head off her chest.

Sex always seemed to be business for Grayson, getting the job done and hopping into the shower before returning to his bed with the girl leaving right after the deed.

Now?

He found himself torn between doing it again or falling asleep in her arms. Lucky for him, she decides for them.

Pushing him to the side, she’s turned the tables on him, reaching for a second condom out his drawer, wanting more.

“Very good.” She responds with a smile.

Y/N lifts herself up and grabs Grayson’s erection, smiling when she sees he’s already good to go. Sliding the condom easily onto him before lining her center up with his tip, she leans down to press a kiss on the left corner of his lips. At an agonizingly slow pace, she sinks down onto him, Grayson’s grip on her sides tightening while her nails go back to digging into the skin, but instead of his shoulders it’s his chest this time around.

Once Grayson’s cock fills her up fully, she takes a minute to adjust just as Grayson did the first time, trusting there’s a reason why he held off for so long. But Grayson is also adjusting to feeling her around him as his eyes take her in. Eyes going from hers, lingering on her breasts, and traveling down to where their lower halves connect, an involuntary groan coming from deep inside his throat at the sight before he looks back up to her. Once his eyes are back on hers, she sends him a lust-filled smirk before she starts moving. Riding him, slowly at first and speeding up as his grip starts to tighten on her hips and her own need grows dire.

Grayson’s name starts sputtering from her lips, hitched breathing in between as her head is thrown back, hair dangling down her back. She starts clenching around Grayson so fast and he takes his chance to move his thumb to her clit once more to help push her over the edge. She jerks at his touch, moaning loudly in ecstasy, louder than before.

“Gray.” She breaths out, gasping for air.

“C'mon, doll.” Grayson pants, the rubbing of his thumb never stopping.

In only seconds, she’s moaning his name, her orgasm hitting hard as she falls onto Grayson’s chest. Grayson’s feet push into the mattress as he pounds into her, chasing his high as he helps her ride out hers. She starts coming down, whispering soft praises into his neck, kissing and biting, sucking on the glistening skin in hopes of successfully leaving a second mark. The whispered praises and assault on his neck are enough to throw him over the edge.

Grayson’s movements come to a halt, his breathing heavy in her ear. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, trailing kisses from her neck to her cheek. An unusually intimate move on his behalf, but she giggles in response, turning her head to look at him before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

She moves aside, letting him dispose of the used condoms, worn out to move on her own. She can feel all her bones drifted apart to let him in fully, but a blissful smile remains on her face when he comes back, still sweaty and hungry for her. But he can tell she’s already tired, the night turning into so much more than she anticipated and he didn’t want to overwhelm her. Not this night.

Laying back beside her, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her right ear before resting his head in the crook of her neck.

“G’dnigt, doll.”

While she slept on his chest, he traced her skin with his fingertips. Grayson knew he’s in over his head and still did nothing to stop it.

**

She always expected sex with Grayson would be rough, something out of her comfort zone. Instead, she got intimacy, genuine lust filled kisses and gentle touches, and craving for one another until there’s no more left to give. She got what she dreamed her first time to be. And in a way it was…it was her first orgasm. And she was happy it was with him.

She could no longer deny that she had fallen for him, but she was damn certain she’d never tell him so.

However, upon opening her eyes, she’s saddened to find the spot beside her empty and she’s all lone in that big bed of his. She half expected him to bring her breakfast in bed or to find him nuzzled in her neck, reminding her that Grayson isn’t the type of guy she usually dates. He’s a gang leader and the tenderness of their night together was surprise on its own, the morning after would have been completely out of character for him.

Sitting up with her head against the headboard, she sighs, pulling her knees closer to her chest. The sheets are wrinkled, out of sorts in every way imaginable. Assuming she looks the same, Y/N smiled to herself and the giddy feeling in her chest grew as she recounted the night before.

“Morning, doll.” Grayson’s voice interrupts her daydreaming, her head turning to him on instinct.

“You’re here?” She states, but it sounds more as a question only confusing him. Why would she expect him to be anywhere else after the night they had?

She took a closer look at him, dressed in a suit – all class and little to no signs of him being anything but the business man she thought him to be. His hair is combed to the side and back, giving him a wind-messed-up-my-hair-but-I-still-look-good kind of a look. Sunrays light up his face, giving his eyes a hazel swirl in a brown orbit, one she deemed magical and not at all earthly. His scruff is now shaved, leaving his skin untouched and he immediately looks five years younger than he is. His lips, the very lips she could still feel against her skin, they spread into a shit eating grin, making her roll her eyes.

While he took a moment to appreciate her disheveled look, he could tell she was scanning him as well. He noted the messy bed hair, finding it looks like a dead raccoon and it still made his heart do a flip. Her eyes are dark, entranced by him, but her lips are parted and wet, letting him know she recently licked the rosy softness he wanted to taste again. Barely covered, a couple of bruises and marks were more than visible under the morning light, giving him a sense of satisfaction for it shows she’s his and his alone now. It reminds him how he watched the marks she left on his neck nearly ten minutes ago, buttoning his shirt all the way to the top to hide them from the world. He’s supposed to be the most eligible bachelor in New York and such marks would surely make people talk.

“You’re staring.” Grayson teases, resting his bawled up hands on the bed, leaning forward to capture her lips in a quick kiss to satisfy his need for her touch.

“And you’re leaving.” She points out, a flash of hurt behind her Y/E/C eyes.

“Gotta attend a meeting and then handle some stuff with E. I’ll be back tonight, doll. You should sleep. Still early for you to be up.” Grayson tilts his head right, placing a kiss on her right cheek before standing up and shooting her a wink.

“Stay safe.” Her words follow him outside, making his chest unnaturally warm with glee he’s unused to feeling. She made him feel things he long forgot were possible to experience as a man of his standing, and it felt good. Really good.

While Grayson attended to his business, Y/N wandered his house in thought. She had long switched to online classes when this whole thing began, but she genuinely missed going to lectures and joking with Carmen at the club. She felt a little alone in the big house because when Grayson and Ethan are gone, she’s left to her own devices. Only a maid or two would cross her path, avoiding chitchat like the plague.

It started feeling like she’s his pet – a dog that mopes around until the owner returns, wagging its tail happily. She hated that comparison, but that’s exactly how her heart would feel when she heard the door open and his face soon came to view.

She tried doing some paperwork, cooking, even completed her assignments for the next week, the very last ones before graduation comes. A part of her knew she’d never get to go, but she hoped Grayson might make an exception and let her see the world once more. Surely the men forgot about her by now.

Something in her heart told her that won’t be an option. There was something inside her that wouldn’t rest, forcing her to busy herself as much as she did. It’s as if something isn’t right in the world and she picked up on it without being aware of it.

But when the knob turned and she whipped around to see who’s at the door, she never expected her gut feeling to be right.

At least a dozen men rushed inside, all of them shouting and none of them with their hands clean. Her eyes widened, searching for the one her heart’s tail wagged for, finding him at the very end of the unknown crowd. His left arm thrown over Ethan’s shoulder, his right hand clutching to his side, his face pale and his mouth set in a firm line, barely standing at all – that’s the image she found waiting for her.

“GRAYSON!” She rushed toward him, her chair falling back from her abrupt movements.

Y/N pushed her way through the men, wrapping her arms around his torso, helping Ethan keep him on his feet.

Feeling a liquid before seeing it, Y/N already knew he’s injured.

“What the fuck happened?!” Her demanding voice stopped the men from speaking, none of them daring to speak but Ethan.

“He got stabbed.” Ethan fills her in, speaking through gritted teeth at the same time as Grayson turns his head toward Y/N, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay, doll.” His voice is weak, but still so sure that it makes her shake her head vehemently, shaking with him in her arms.

“Stabbed! You got yourself stabbed!” The panic in her voice is palpable, her hand covering his wound on instinct.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Grayson chuckles, hissing when his men approach and push Y/N from his side in order to take him upstairs.

“The doc is on his way.” Another one announces, the men gathering around their boss and picking him up before making their way toward the bedroom.

“Ethan, how did this happen?” She turns to his brother who seems more pissed off than scared. She quickly rinses off the blood, not looking at it to stop herself from throwing up.

“The idiot killed someone important against my advice and now he’s paying the price.” Ethan ran a hand through his hair, still matted to his forehead from sweat.

“Who did he kill?” Y/N sits down, feeling her shaky legs could give out any moment now. This isn’t what she signed up for – not knowing if he’ll make it back to her at the end of the day or not. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. She’s still struggling to accept that part of him, unable to connect the dots between the person she’s seen behind the painted veil and the one he is whenever she’s not with him.

She can’t differentiate which Grayson is the real Grayson.

“Damien.” Ethan replies simply, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and taking a chug without grimacing at all. He must be used to the burn, she concludes.

“So, this is my fault.” She drops her gaze, feeling a river of tears coming in and no matter how badly she wanted to stop it, the dam broke and the waterfalls became unstoppable.

“It’s his. He could have roughed him up or something, but he sees red when you’re involved.” Ethan leaned against the counter, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her and hopefully stop her from crying.

“He even made us let him walk in here on his own two feet, saying you’ll freak out if we carry him inside.” Ethan continues, making a small smile appear on her lips as she wiped the tears with the back of her hand.

“How am I supposed to do this?” She looked up, teary eyed and searched for answers in those brown eyes with hazel swirls that Ethan mirrored. She never thought she’d be a real life Betty Cooper who fell for Jughead Jones instead of a guy like Archie Andrews.

“Decide if it’s worth it. If you love him more than anything in this world – more than school, your friends, your own life…it’s worth it. If not, then walk away. It might be hard after last night –“ Ethan pauses, grimacing at the memory and Y/N blushes, realizing he must have heard them because neither of them tried to control their sounds.

“Will he be okay?” She licks her lips, the salty taste of tears not lost on her as she tries to clear her vision enough to properly see Grayson’s older brother.

“Yeah. Probably just stitches and a couple of weeks in bed. Hopefully you can keep him in there, because that stubborn ass will try and get back out there way too soon.” Ethan chuckles, both of them turning to the door once it opens and a man walks in. The man greets Ethan with a curt nod, moving past them and up the stairs.

“The doctor.” Ethan states, taking a hold of Y/N’s hand.

“And we’ll be watching something until it’s all done.” He pulls her with him, despite her resistance.

“But, I want to be there.” She whines, making him smile to himself. He knew she already made her decision, even if she didn’t.

“When the doc is done, we’ll see him. Until then, be prepared for days of heavy security around the house. When a leader of a gang is attacked, everyone’s on high alert.”

Hearing footsteps from all around, Y/N settled in Ethan’s side for the night. She watched the cartoon he put on without even knowing what’s happening on the screen, her mind with Grayson and the last words she said to him in the morning.

She urged him to stay safe, unaware just how badly he needed to hear that.

It’s like going through the motions, unable to focus on more than one task at a time and her brain opted on focusing on Grayson and what he went through for her sake. He killed for her, hurt people for her…Is that his idea of commitment? Is killing in someone’s name a way to say I love you in his world?

She shuddered with the thought, feeling a light tap on her left shoulder.

“C’mon. The doctor wants to talk to us.” Ethan’s face is softer than before, reassuring and understanding. He knows this is all too much for Y/N, but he appreciates how hard she’s working to pull it together. She’s in a state of shock of some sorts, but he knew seeing Grayson would make her feel better.

“He’s got a deep wound in his side, thankfully mostly muscle injury. Whoever did this was clearly derailed by him and missed all vital organs. He’s lost blood, but I put one bag up and he’s already looking better. Stitches come off in two weeks’ time, no strenuous activity until then. Make him rest up, take his antibiotics and painkillers on time and that’s all. Anything happens, take him to my clinic.”

Y/N nods faintly, her eyes darting over the doctor’s shoulder to take a peek at Grayson, unsuccessfully. She already knew the basics, she’s a damn pre-med for God’s sake. She just wanted to see her man.

“Can I see him now?” She interrupts, impatient and already moving aside to get into the room.

A couple of men are stationed inside, eyeing Y/N suspiciously until Ethan steps inside.

“Leave. He’s safe with us. You know your stations.” With that, the room empties, leaving the three alone in silence.

Y/N shuffles closer to Grayson, seeing he’s laid in the middle of the bed with his eyes closed shut and his mouth is no longer gaping with painful grunts leaving them. His hair sticks to his forehead, his middle wrapped in a bandage, a drip still going to get him some fluids. He looked frail, unlike anything she knew him be. It’s the last word in the dictionary she’d ever use to describe him.

Careful, she sits on the bed by his side, her shaky fingers dipping into his open hand.

“He’s probably hopped up on painkillers.” Ethan sighs, sitting on the bed as well.

“Probably be out till tomorrow.” He adds, helping Y/N breathe properly again. She didn’t like the silence, reminding her only the dead are silent. But she could see Grayson’s chest move, the light up and down that followed his every breath and every heartbeat. It’s all she can focus on.

“I don’t want to leave him.” Her small voice surprises Ethan, but he nods regardless. He didn’t expect anything else.

“I’ll be right across the hall, as usual.” He walked around the bed, pressing a kiss to her temple before walking out, leaving her alone with his brother. They needed to be together, he understood perfectly. Whether they knew it or not, there was no doubt in his mind he’d be calling her his sister one day.

Y/N laid on her side, her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. She fell asleep to the even rhythm of his breathing, her mind finally calm.

“Good morning, doll.” She hears him whisper, his voice hoarse and her eyes snap open at the sound.

“You’re awake!” She sits up, her heart pounding, her hands moving from his to inspect him properly, but not daring actually touch him.

“Sorry. Had a totally different plan on getting you into my bed last night, but this seemed like the only foolproof plan.” Grayson snickers, groaning right after as his hand shoots up to his wound.

“You’re an idiot.” She sighs, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Now you’re stuck in this bed for a couple of weeks and you’ve shortened my lifespan for at least ten years.” She accuses, pressing a second kiss on him. She couldn’t resist, needing the feel of his lips against hers.

“At least we can have some fun.” He raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smile on his lips that falls when she shakes her head.

“No strenuous activities. Doctor’s orders.” She informs him, pursing her lips and it’s taking everything inside him not to flip them over and claim them as his.

“I’m going to fire that man.” He slaps a hand over his face, dragging it down in disbelief.

“And I’m going to get you some food. And Ethan to help you handle the morning pee situation.” She shrugs off the blankets, getting up as his hand wraps around her right wrist.

“I’d enjoy someone else taking care of my morning wood situation much more.” He kinks his eyebrow, a cocky smile on his lips. She rolls her eyes at him, tugging her wrist back into her own possession.

“That counts as strenuous activity.” She gives him a small wink in return and blows a kiss his way.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Maybe you’ll be more careful about getting stabbed next time.” She giggles, leaving the room as he shouts after her.

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT!”

Once she returned with his pills in hand, she felt as if she’s caring for a child.

“I don’t wanna.” He whined, closing his mouth shut right after. He barely had anything to eat and now she struggled with talking him into taking his medicine.

“How about we make a deal? Take these and I’ll reward you with a kiss?” She offered, making him smirk. He quickly lifted his head, pressing a small kiss to the left corner of her lips.

“I think I like my rewards in advance.”

Finally, he took his pills, only to plaster a second kiss to her bottom lip.

“And after.”

**

Y/N’s POV

Having him in bed truly helped me get to know him better. Grayson always seemed like a mystery to me, but now I had him right where I wanted him – trapped with me and after repeating the same questions at him for hours, he’d end up answering just to make me shut up.

A little tired, I laid my head on a pillow next to him, absentmindedly tracing the blue-green ink on his tattooed arms. I knew what each tattoo on the rest of his body meant, but these remained a puzzle.

“They’re waves.” He speaks, making me flinch at the sudden pierce of the silent veil that befell us.

“Waves?” I question, waiting for him to expand on his initial statement.

“Yeah. Everything in life comes and goes in waves. The good…the bad…it’s all perfectly balanced in one way or another. It always reminds me that it’s just a normal part of life, adding a new wave whenever something big happens. Blue for bad and green for good.” His answer leaves me deep in thought, but he puts a finger on my chin, lifting it gently to press a butterfly kiss on my nose.

His finger then travels down to his arm, pointing at a large green wave on his right forearm.

“This is the last one I got, about ten months ago.” I look up, lips parted and my heart stops for a moment.

Could it be?

“The same night I left a bar where a particularly beautiful and sassy woman reminded me I still have a heart.”

Not holding back, I quickly press my lips against his, moving my body atop his. Straddling him, the kiss breaks as he grunts and chuckles in pain and I realize I’ve accidentally pressed into his wound with my knee.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I put a hand over my mouth, shaking my head as I try to figure out what the hell I was thinking. Maneuvering to move off him, he groans once more when my foot grazes the wound unintentionally.

“Oh, you evil woman!” He chuckles, still holding onto his side.

“You’ve made me horny and hurt me at the same time!”

All in all, I liked spending this time with him. It sucks he had to be injured in order for us to have heart to heart conversations every other day, but most of the time we spent together was simply enjoying each other’s company and discovering new traits we were unaware of.

He’s not cold like I used to believe. He’s not a bad guy or someone who inspires fear. He’s not even intimidating. I’ve come to see a heart of gold he’s been hiding for a long time. I’ve learned he’s goofy and spews lame jokes that make me laugh regardless how bad the punchline is. His feet are extremely ticklish and he gets chills whenever my lips come anywhere near his ears. He’s very creative and smart and he plays the keyboard so beautifully, that I’m in awe of this man. Every part of him is an adventure and I couldn’t get enough of him.

So, how did this man ever become a leader of a gang who kills mercilessly?

I get the sense that he’s become torn between being a good man and missing out on all the opportunities life could offer a man as magnificent as him. And I understand that. I do. I just wish I knew a way to get him out of it all. I’d give up everything and move on a deserted island if that’s what it took.

Because I…

I love him.

“Your mother said you have a heart of gold and a pure soul.” I smile, tracing circles on his chest in boredom. I liked being lazy with him, but I was slowly getting crazy from being cooped up with him and I’m sure so did he. The only true contact besides kissing we had was when he snuck up to me and slapped my ass, which became his favorite thing to do.

“My mother always sees the best in me. She’s partial. You should ask my sister Cameron. Bet she’d have an opinion!” He exclaims, making me smile. His lips press against my forehead and I sigh in content.

“She and Cameron moved to Europe when my dad died and well, I can’t blame them. It’s much safer for them. I wish you could see that too.” The heaviness in his voice makes me look up, furrowing my eyebrows. He’s staring down at me, a frown etched onto his beautiful face only highlighting a faint scar between his eyebrows. A scar his sister gave him as a kid despite my initial theory of it being a gang related injury.

“What are you talking about?” I ask sharply, not liking what he’s hinting at.

“I mean you’d be smart to get out of here. Leave and never look back. I’m not good for you.” His voice is even and calm, like he’s not talking about destroying us and the prospects of our future. Does he even want a future with me?

“I can decide what’s good for me just fine on my own.” I push myself up, sitting with my head turned away from him. In my mind, I’m aware he’s right. When does a story like ours ever end with a happily ever after? But another part of me ached at the possibility of never seeing him again. I don’t think I can leave him. Ever.

He’s ingrained in my very being at this point. I am consumed by him.

“Don’t be mad at me, doll. I’m just telling you the truth. I promised you that much.” His fingertips brush my spine, gently following the curvature down.

“Every voice in my head screams don’t…ever since we met. But I can’t deny my heart and run when I know I’m meant to be right where I am.” I sigh, turning to him.

“I know you feel differently, but I can’t help it. I’m in love with you Grayson Bailey Dolan and I can’t walk away from you.” I notice him stiffen with my professions, but I’m returning the favor of being honest. I can’t keep lying to myself nor him.

“People don’t write sonnets about being compatible, or novels about shared life goals and stimulating conversation. The great loves are the crazy ones. The kinds that are epic always take a toll on people and maybe that’s not us, but I want to find out. I have to or else I’ll go mad wondering what could have been if I had been just a little braver.” His eyes bore into mine, taking in all that I’ve said and I can tell it’s something unexpected for him, something he’s not used to. But he’s not running from me, is he?

I’m ignoring the fact he’s hurt and he can’t, but still.

“Don’t ever think you’re not brave. You’re the bravest woman I know. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here with me.” Grayson takes my hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing the palm of my hand before burying his face in it.

“Now, let’s sleep.” He pulled me into him, his arms around me and his chin atop my head.

“Goodnight.”

And that’s when I knew he isn’t the type that says those eight words, but shows them. This was his way of saying I love you.

**

It took us three weeks to get Grayson back into shape, walking was the only thing he could do, but I was proud nonetheless.

I had to explain to him why the no sex rule is so important time and time again, but once the doctor cleared him, we were back in that bed just as much if not more than before. I didn’t complain because his skill set is off the charts and getting lost in him is exactly what I needed to forget about missing my own graduation. Despite initial shyness, we’ve come to experiment and I’ve found he’s kinky, but I’m kinkier. He’s also discovered the back of my knees are sensitive and he used that to his advantage as well.

Grayson is insatiable, mind numbing and most importantly – mine. Has been for months.

“You graduated?!” He woke me up abruptly, damn near giving me a heart attack in the process.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine!” I grumble, rubbing the sleep out my eyes and squinting at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He softened, plopping on the bed and spreading out so his head fell on my lap and he got a pretty good look of my under chin as I yawned.

“Didn’t think it mattered. You wouldn’t let me go and you were shot. Plus, I still need to get into Columbia med school for it to mean anything.” I run my fingers through his unusually messy hair lazily, seeing his frown deepen.

“How would you like to go out with me tonight?” He barely got the question out before I jumped out and nearly took his head off in the process.

“Yes! Where?!” I clap my hands in excitement, pressing my clasped hands to my nose and lips.

“A place very special to me. I’ll have my team come and glam you up.”

And he did. While he stayed for the first part where it was spa treatment more than anything and joined me for it with Ethan to my utmost surprise, he had left the second they did any real work.

With a very sophisticated red dress with open back and a princess style hairdo, make-up that accentuated my features and lots of expensive jewelry he apparently insisted I wear, I was prepared to go on our first official date and actually see a place that wasn’t this house. The only outside I saw was his property and although it’s big and very pretty, it gets boring after a time. And six months is a long time!

Grayson waited for me outside, his eyes widening once he saw me, freezing in his spot. I avert my eyes shyly, pressing my lips together. If I were to look up my eyes will lock in sinful magnetism with his. Speaking to me, telling me things, suggesting things....he had simple eyes, nothing extraordinary to the naked eye, just the fact that they were so expressive...so honest...wrongly speaking out what his heart was trying to hide...love.

Finally looking up, I see he’s still frozen in his spot.

“Oh my God, at least act like you haven’t spent half a year seeing me without make up and in your old clothes.” I shake my head at him, watching a wide smile take hold of his handsome face.

“You’re always gorgeous doll, but tonight you’re a goddess.” He takes my right hand in his left, using his right one to cup my face and connect our lips for a moment.

Once I open my eyes, I feel my heart jump at the sight.

Behind Grayson is my Impala, completely restored and functioning.

“You fixed my car.” I say quietly, breathless. I could barely form any words before I threw my arms around him and pressed a kiss under his ear. It’s the most precious gift he could have given me.

Grayson took us to an undisclosed location, leaving my Impala for the night because I had no clue where we were going.

Finally stopping at a hotel, I look at him puzzled and he just chuckles.

“You’ll see.”

Arms hooked together, we walk inside and I soon realize this is one of his hotels. The people around seem frightened of him, looking like the devil himself just walked in. But I also see respect behind that fear, meaning he treats them well.

“Is everything in place, Rinaldo?” He asks the concierge and with a confirmation, we move back and leave the hotel.

I gasp, seeing the beautiful garden with fairy lights and flowers of all kinds, roses at each side of the path leading to a table with candles and a killer view of the city. Grayson takes a red rose from the nearest bush, already clipped and I know he’s planned all of this to the last detail.

“A rose for a rose.” His cheesy line makes me smile, bringing the flower to my nose. Inhaling the scent, I close my eyes and let a faint ‘mhm’ escape my lips, walking with my eyes closed to take in all the smells because I trust Grayson not to let me fall.

We take a seat, Grayson being a gentlemen and pulling out my chair and helping me.

“This is incredible, Gray. Thank you so much.” I place a hand over my chest, a little overwhelmed with all the love I could feel from him this evening. He still hasn’t said it, but I know he feels it. I know he does.

“Anything for my girl.”

Melting at the sound of that, we spent the night eating and joking around, drowning in his compliments.

“So why is this a private area? Why not let your guests in?” I question, wiping my mouth as I set down my spoon.

“It’s something too heavy for tonight, doll. I want you to enjoy yourself.” He derails my question, but I shake my head and place my hand over his.

“Nothing you say to me would make this night any less magical.” He stops, looking at me for a minute in silence, deciding to let me in.

“It’s my place…the place I find shelter when everything goes to shit. It’s uh…a garden my dad started for my mother. He never finished it and I couldn’t leave it like that. He always said it’s a symbol of his love for our family. It’s also where he took his last breath and where we scattered the ashes. I was surprised to see he named me his successor over Ethan, but apparently Ethan told him he didn’t want to lead and Cameron absolutely refused to be a part of this life. It’s my place and now…I want you to know it’s yours too. I’ll let Rinaldo know he can let you in whenever you need to hide from the world and think – to find yourself.”

I stood up, gently tugging at his sleeve to do the same and he didn’t waste time in standing in front of me, letting me wrap my arms around his neck loosely.

“Take me home.” I say sweetly, the longing in my voice taking him by surprise, but he smiles back despite the pain this conversation brought him. He’s never talked about his dad before and this…this is the last brick of a very tall wall I’ve spent a year demolishing. He’s finally let me in entirely, no stone left unturned.

We barely got into the house before the kissing started, the tension growing on our drive back and we needed the release desperately so.

“We need to let Ethan know.” I whisper against his lips and kiss him again.

“Already texted him and my men. We’re alone in the house for the night.” He responds, picking me up and carrying me upstairs as my legs wrapped around his waist.

He looks at me, pulls me flush against his chest, lips on mine in seconds. My back arches and my hands come up to his face, eyes closing as I melt into his touch and it feels like home.

It’s a kiss, but it’s deeper than normal and it’s got both of our hearts thumping a mile a minute.

He pulls back, giving me a look and I have to remind myself to breathe. His eyes are gentle, still darker with lust but not hungry or needy. There’s no grin, just a sweet corner smile. His entire expression is soft and almost innocent, a stark contrast to the image he’s spent his entire life building.

“So beautiful.” He mumbles under his breath, but I catch the words with ease.

He sits back on the bed, letting me nestle in his lap. Gently dragging my knuckles down his right cheek, Grayson closes his eyes and sighs in relief. He’s a picture of perfection.

The moment ends and he opens his eyes, his lips kissing at my jaw. Surges of electricity jolt through my body as his lips trail to my neck and he nips at the skin before latching down. He sucks a bright purple mark to my skin, a symbol that in this moment, I am his and he is mine.

I trail my lips down to his neck, gaining a groan before I leave a mark of my own, a mark that just screams my name. Pushing Grayson’s shoulder, moving him flat on his back as I properly straddle him, our lips not disconnecting for a single second. My breathing is already ragged and strangled but I’m not focused on breathing. I am utterly lost in the moment of lust, something I’ve become very accustomed to.

Grayson’s hands slide under my dress, pulling it up and his hands are so warm, fitting to my sides like a perfect puzzle piece sliding into place. And his hands quickly move with a purpose, unzipping my dress, letting it fall over my shoulders before pulling it off and leaving me only in my underwear, nearly naked in his wake.

His hands trail up to my breasts, taking them in his hands and squeezing them over my bra until I finally disconnect our lips and sit up. Grayson gains that usual smirk he always gets and it sends another rush of heat through my body, head to toe. I match his smirk with a wink before reaching behind my back and unclasping my bra.

“Hey, not fair! I wanted to do that!” Grayson complained, making me chuckle.

“Better move faster next time.” I smile, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time, exposing his abs in all their glory. I help him shrug it off and before I can go back to my position, Grayson’s arm is wrapping around me and flipping me back over so he’s on top. I laugh and Grayson follows too, his head dipping into my neck before his eyes meet mine.

3rd Person POV

The laughing subsides and this feeling washes over him. Y/N? She’s incredible. She’s everything he cares about. The best moment of his life is the day she came into his bed that night and kissed him for the first time, trusting him to go the distance. But there’s something with the way her eyes meet his in the low light of their bedroom. There’s a new feeling here, one Grayson hasn’t felt before, one he wasn’t even sure actually existed. And it scares him so he breaks eye contact and connects his lips back to hers before sliding a hand between the two of them and sliding his hand into her underpants.

She moans as his fingers slide her underwear aside and start sliding through her folds, collecting her wetness. Her eyes shut while her hand reaches for the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her as humanly possible. She moves her lips from his, kissing his cheek before she gets to his ear.

“Condom.” She whispers, voice completely drenched in lust and Grayson moves in seconds, reaching to his nightstand for a condom while she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. He’s glad she reminded him of protection, because in that moment all he could focus was getting lost in her and his mind wouldn’t even think of anything other than the way her lips part whenever he hits the right spots.

Grayson follows her lead and slides the condom on once his clothes have been tossed to the floor. He lines himself up with her core and he watches himself slowly disappear into her heat. He groans into her chest once he bottoms out, her jaw hanging slightly ajar with the full feeling and he gets to see the picture perfect face he finds as his greatest reward.

She runs a hand through his hair and Grayson picks his head up, eyes meeting hers and he’s scared at the flutter his heart does. He’s terrified of the way he gets goosebumps and the way he wants to kiss her like he’s never done before. For the first time, he’s scared of her, but he doesn’t let it show. He just stares back at her with heavy breaths and she pushes loose strands of curls back because she’s scared too, but in a different way.

She’s terrified of losing him for he made her happier than she’s ever been. In the last year he’s made her feel everything and she didn’t want that to be taken from her. Ever.

His lips are moving against hers, deepening every kiss and she’s letting herself melt into him and it’s so worth it. Every tear and ache of their hearts, it’s worth it.

His eyes are dark brown, darker than normal with lust and happiness and it’s got a way of making her stomach and heart just want to explode from the love she feels for him. Her skin tingles and a smile comes to her face, Grayson matching the same expression before kissing her lips sweetly and thrusting into her.

Y/N’s mouth hangs open as a gasp comes from her mouth, fingers digging into Grayson’s shoulders. Grayson kisses her cheek before moving back to her forehead, keeping his thrusts deliberate and steady, not focusing on getting off but just being in the moment with her. His hands reach for hers, interlocking their fingers and his thrusts increase.

Sheer layers of sweat soon cover their bodies and their hearts are racing with Grayson’s ever-growing sloppy thrusts as he starts to approach his high and she can feel she’s not far from her own and this is so much better than any other time the two had sex in the past.

They’ve been having sex for months now and every time it’s fun, exciting, good, it’s always been good but there’s something different about this sex. The sex that’s just the two of them, giggling when they knock teeth or quick pecks the other expects to be long and deep. It feels like there’s actually something passionate, a deeper connection there because there is.

Grayson’s hips rut against hers as they both moan out each other’s names, toes curling and nails digging each other’s hands as their highs hit. Gasps consume the room as she comes down and then there’s some quiet laughter from the two of them instead, Grayson kissing the very tip of her nose and her scrunching it in response.

Grayson rolls off her, walking into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom and clean himself, coming back with a wet towel to clean her off as well.

It’s become a routine for them, the aftercare always just as good as the sex. It’s intoxicating and liberating at the same time, being so open with each other and real about who they are.

So, with her head on his chest as he twirls loose curls of her hair, Grayson decides to speak one last truth of his own.

“I have a confession to make.” He kissed her forehead as she looks up at him, still feeling her heart beating wildly as is his under the palm of her hand.

“The Impala was ready even when you were still working at the bar. I was just scared you’d take it and we’d have no reason to be in contact anymore. I kind of needed those drive backs with you.” He pecked her nose and she gawked at him.

“You evil man.” She teases, slapping his chest playfully, using his own words against him and smiles.

“If you gave me my car back, I would have found a reason to spend time with you anyway. Been in love with you for a long time now, Gray.” With her reassuring words, the couple drifted off to sleep, completely unaware of what the future holds.

**

Y/N’s POV

A loud bang wakes me up, making me sit up in distress with a hand over my chest.

I look to Grayson in fright, finding he’s no longer by my side. Tapping the floor in the dark and finding only my underwear and Grayson’s shirt, I quickly put them on and peak through the door that’s left ajar. That loud sound didn’t sound like things breaking, it reminded me of the gunshot I last heard when Grayson killed Damien.

The fear is a weight on my ribs and a dull ache in my eyes, an unwillingness for my mouth to lift past neutral.

My heart isn’t resting tonight as it jumps to a speed of a professional racer, feeling my entire body tremble with the unknown danger lurking in the house.

I tiptoe to the stairwell, slowly descending once I notice Clevus, one of the guards is at the bottom of the stairs, eyes unmoving and blood pooling around him.

Covering my mouth to stop a whimper from escaping me, I feel the tears running forth and I stumble back to return to the room only to slip and fall. The blow in my lower back isn’t as bad as the fear that cages me when a man appears beside Clevus, a sinister smile on his lips as he starts to move toward me like a lion and I’m forced to get back up and run like his prey.

I run into our bedroom and into Grayson’s closet, wondering where he is…If Grayson is here at all.

I remember him saying something about keeping a gun somewhere in his room back when I first started living here, but I can’t remember where. I never wanted to know because I didn’t think I’ll need it.

I hear the door slam open, knowing I have barely a moment before they get to me, rummaging through draws of his ties and watches but to no avail. I push apart his suits, wondering how many suits can a man own before he stops getting new ones, but he has so many it makes me want to scream in frustration.

I can't breathe, feeling as if someone is choking me. My heart is racing and all I want to do is curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save me. But no one will, no one is here. A choked cry for help forced itself up my throat, and I feel a drop run down my cheek. I hadn't volunteered for this, I'm not one of those brave people who relish in danger and crave leadership. But I did, didn’t I? I chose to stay…to love a man like Grayson Dolan.

“Hello.” I hear the low chuckle behind me, freezing in my spot as terror overtakes me. Adrenaline floods my system. It pumps and beats like it’s trying to escape. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide with fear. The soulless came for a soul, the very thing they could never regain. They came to take innocence and feel the evil joy as they sunk into the filth of indifference.

I’m just grateful Grayson isn’t here to meet the same fate I’m expecting.

He grabs my arms and pulls me to him, caging me in as I trash against him. I kick and scream, pull and pinch, fighting with every fiber of my being. My arms get loose, allowing me to grab at the door, than at the stairwell and I can feel time slowing down as my own ticks down to the last minute of my life.

Kicking and screaming, this is how I go down. I hope Grayson knows I wouldn’t leave him if I had a choice.

I can taste saliva thickening in my throat and beads of sweat trickling down my brow. The man stops, knocking me into the wall at the bottom and I fall into the pool of Clevus’ blood in despair.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t ya?” Another man steps into the hall and I feel my defiance outgrow my fear.

“You’re going to die for this! Grayson will kill you!” I shout, smirking as the man nods with his lips pursing. He takes a couple steps toward me, leaning down to almost face level.

“I have it on good authority that won’t be possible.” With a flick of his wrist his men move and I see them bring in an unconscious Grayson and throw him on the floor before my feet.

His left eyebrow is cut and bleeding profusely, his eyes closed and lips parted ever so slightly. He’s out cold, unaware of the world around him. But I’m not.

No. No. No. NO, NO!

“I should thank you. If you hadn’t softened this idiot, he’d never let his guard down and none of this would be possible.”

Oh God…this is all my fault. He let the guards have a night off and those who stayed were outside and easy targets.

“Take her out.” And before I have the time to let out a single tear, my vision blurs and everything goes dark.

Back to the present – 3rd Person POV

“Sorry darling. Nothing personal.” And then he pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened in the actual sense of the word, the gun being emptied out before it was handed to the star-crossed lovers. Yet, everything happened in that moment.

Y/N stood in her spot, shocked at what almost happened. She could have never pulled the trigger, not in her wildest dreams would she have harmed him. But he did. He pulled the trigger without so much as a blink of doubt.

“Oh, I guess I was wrong then! Only one of you love the other enough to die for them. Cold, Grayson. Even for you.” The stranger chuckled, taking the gun as his men grabbed a hold of Grayson and started to tie him back up.

He loaded the gun with a single bullet, turning it toward Y/N’s head once more, keeping eye contact with Grayson.

“I should ease her suffering. After all, she’s the reason my son is dead. She got away with little to no consequence, but that’s because I’m a good guy.” And that’s when Y/N realizes who this stranger is. He’s Damien’s father – the leader of Grayson’s rival gang. It’s the war Ethan warned Grayson about and she was so oblivious to it all.

“I just wanted to know where my son’s body is, but hey…I’ll take pleasure knowing you two got exactly what you deserved.”

Before the trigger is pulled, a mass of warm slaw plastered onto Y/N’s face and a guttural scream erupted from deep inside her chest once she noticed brain matter mixed with blood running down her skin.

She heard a blow after blow, looking around to see almost all of the enemies are dead or about to be and Grayson already on his feet, fighting actively.

Y/N wanted to be strong as Grayson once called her, to be epitome of powerful. But after the week of torture she endured – both mental and physical, she couldn’t keep up a picture of the woman she once was. She crumbled to the core, none of her walls remaining intact.

Legs giving out, she started her fall, but the darkness never came as a pair of arms held onto her and pushed her into the safety of an embrace. It wasn’t Grayson, she knew it by heart, but the scent was similar – Ethan’s.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He whispered over and over in her ear, running his gloved hand down her hair and he held her close, keeping her standing just by his own force. She got close to Ethan in the past year as they both loved to tease Grayson and enjoyed playing video games or even watching TV as their shows have become a religion, a way of life and the best bonding experience. Yet she never expected his arms would be the ones she’d fall into.

The fight around them stopped, continuing somewhere deep in the bunker they were held in, allowing the men inside to take a minute and breathe.

“Took you long enough, bro.” Grayson’s hoarse voice sounds before he spits at his captive’s dead body and moves to take Y/N in his arms.

“You try finding out a damn bomb shelter in the middle of the New Jersey woods!” Ethan exclaims, releasing the pressure he kept on Y/N who buried her face in his leather jacket and held onto him for dear life. Her entire body trembles, her choked sobs racking her body.

“Give her to me.” Grayson opens his arms, preparing to take her when she turns around and shakes her head.

“Ethan take me away from here, please.” She asks meekly, only tightening her hold on the older brother while the younger watched.

“Bro, what do I do?” Ethan asked Grayson, lost on what happened down there that’s so bad Y/N could barely look at his brother.

“Doll.” Grayson tries.

“Don’t! Don’t call me that ever again! Or anything at all for that matter!” She shouted, the force used tearing at her throat and the words alone would have hurt them both, but this broke them.

“Take her wherever she wants to go.” Grayson’s monotone, cold voice returns, swallowing thickly as he watches her disappear from his view. He knew the right thing to do.

Ethan put Y/N into his car, driving back home with a gnawing thought.

“What did he do?”

Y/N lift her head up from her shoulder, looking to Ethan.

“I understood when he refused to admit he knows me when they beat me. I understood when he didn’t even flinch when I cried. But I can never understand why he pulled the trigger after I failed to do the same. He would have killed me without a second thought. All for his gang…his only priority. I know now I have no place in his life. I just want to recover and get the hell away.” She grumbled, her head in her hands as her consciousness faded.

Ethan swallows thickly, looking at her in shock. He knew Grayson loved her, so whatever happened down there must have been taken out of context. His brother wouldn’t have risked her life like that for no reason.

Would he?

**

Days passes and Grayson never saw Y/N leave her room. She barely ate what the maids brought her, taking her water mostly for the pills.

The doctor told him she has a few cracked ribs, lots of bruises and cuts which would heal in time, but nothing permanent or life threatening. He too was healing, his body more black and blue than anything else. He had so many stitches on his body, he’s lost count. But all he cared about is the girl he had lost.

She checked her e-mail, finding Columbia offered her a scholarship – an anonymous donor decided to help her out and she finally found what she needed to pull herself together and face Grayson one last time.

She knocked on his door, holding her breath and he nearly lost his mind when she came inside.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, containing his excitement as his eyes looked her over.

Her face covered in bruises, drained and stripped of the usual smile she bore. Her body no longer had that extra meat on her bones he loved and she seemed frail…lost.

“I’m leaving.” She cleared her throat to stop the raspiness, pursing her lips.

“This house, this life…You.” She could feel the lump in her throat growing, making it harder to swallow.

“I have given you so many passes in the past.” She sighs, looking up at the ceiling as she leans back on the door to close it all the way and bites her lower lip.

“Too many…But you…you were willing to kill me…and to do what exactly?” She brought her eyes back to him, anger inside her bubbling when she saw him staring back at her. He doesn’t even bow his head in shame, no apologies, nothing. He’s just staring back at her and she hates him for it.

What she doesn’t know is that he’s staring because he knows once she walks out the door, she’ll be gone for good and he needs to remember her as she is now, to have something to live for.

“Why? Tell me some lame excuse, lie to me, anything! Justify it and I’ll believe you and I’ll stay!” Her voice raised in frustration, Y/N ran both her hands through her hair, shaking her head vehemently.

“Do you even love me?” Her voice broke, tears collecting in her eyes as she hoped he’s say anything.

“I promised never to lie to you. You should go.” Grayson spoke, no emotion passing on his face and Y/N shakes her head. He’s trying to convince himself he’s doing the right thing. Letting her go is the best thing for her.

“I’m such an idiot for thinking you might actually care for me. Grayson…You’re the bad guy, not the prince! And bad guys always get what’s coming to them! It might not have been this one, but someone will get you and you will remember me in those last moments of your life – remember me because this heartbreak you caused is the reason why you’ll be going straight to hell.” She turned around, walking out of his room, out of his house and out of his life.

Ethan rushed in, eyes wide and tears running down his cheek.

“What just happened? Why is she leaving us?” Ethan’s voice broke as his brother looked at him, reaching for a red rose that was behind him – the one he gave her that night in the garden.

“You will never know the depth of what I just lost.” Grayson choked out, crumbling the withering red rose in his hand.

**

Three months passed and while it was hard, Y/N finally lived her life. She found solace in school, loving every minute she spent studying. She lived on campus as it was provided to her by her anonymous donor and she even got a job! It was frustrating beyond belief to find pretty much anyone she met offered her a job after she told them her name, meaning Grayson must have pulled every string he had in the city to make sure she had somewhere to work should she want to.

It seemed she couldn’t get him out her life no matter how far she went.

She worked in a small café where the owners never heard of Grayson Dolan and DT Empire meant absolutely nothing to them and The house of the rising sun was just a song, ending her shift at ten every night. It was easier than she thought, moving on and letting go of the past. Until she went to sleep. His face is all she could see in her dreams. Haunting her, calling for her.

Until she started being haunted in the day as well.

“A coffee, please.” A familiar voice brought chills down her spine and she whipped around so fast she got dizzy.

“Ethan?” She whisper shouted, leaning toward him so no one hears her.

“Missed you. I’m sorry if this is inappropriate.” He apologized, giving her his puppy dog eyes and she sighs, pouring him a cup.

“If he sent you…” She trails off. She didn’t even know how he found her. She’s been keeping a low profile this entire time.

“I don’t want to know.” Shaking her head, she looks at the customers in case someone needs her.

“No, just a little worried about you. You kind of disappeared on us and I didn’t even get a goodbye.” A slightly accusing tone made her heart clench, but she couldn’t let him get to her.

“He’s miserable without you. Barely eats or sleeps….He’s reckless and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he’s killed. He even cancelled all his appearances.” Ethan pushed, continuously making her feel like she’ll either burst into tears or cry her eyes out.

“Not my problem anymore.” She states with a huff.

“You and I both know it is. You love him. I can tell.” Ethan tilts his head to the side, raising one eyebrow.

“Just…never mind.” He drops some money on the counter, much more than needed as his brother used to do before storming out, leaving his coffee untouched.

Y/N rubbed her forehead, finding a feeling of walls caving in on her becoming too real. She needed to think, to find some way to let go of Grayson because Ethan is right. He’s still in her veins.

Excusing herself early, she decided to go to one place she knew she’d feel close to him without actually seeing him.

She drove up to the hotel, passing by Rinaldo and walking into the secret garden. She brushed the roses with her fingertips, slowly walking up to the overlook with her heart in her throat.

It felt like that night he brought her here, the distant echo was still alive and frozen in time. Maybe this is what she needs, closure.

Sitting down crisscrossed, she rests her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, watching the city lights burn brighter as the darkness consumed the day.

A part of her felt almost peaceful, while the other raged on. It was a never ending battle inside her – one part of her loving him and the other hating him. Maybe that’s life.

Trusts are broken, lies are told. For us to believe in what we seek, we must know what it means to be what we don't want to be. Being sad makes you realize how valuable being happy is. Being weak makes you know what it means to be strong. Being helpless makes you determined to be helpful. Mistakes happen, awful things might happen in one's life. But her trust in him never wavered until he pulled the trigger.

She didn’t have nightmares about the man who hurt her. She had nightmares about the men she let into her heart who broke her.

“I knew the gun is empty.” A voice pricks her small bubble, making her turn around and nearly fall in the process.

“What?!” She looks at him, finding him dressed entirely in black, only a deep red shirt peering out of his suit. He’s watching her with a distant, wistful look, his eyes surrounded by dark circles and his face unshaven. His hair is disheveled and she can tell he hasn’t been taking care of himself. He is a mess.

“The gun doesn’t weight the same when it’s loaded and when it’s not. I’ve held enough of them to know the difference. Plus, no one sane would hand me a loaded gun in that situation.” He clears it up, his bottom lip quivering.

“I knew it could save you…after he said they’d let you go. I thought you’d be safe. You’d leave the bunker and I’d die with my heart and mind at peace.”

“Why didn’t you say this to me back at the house? Huh? You said being honest with each other is the very definition of l…friendship.” She threw his words back at him, narrowing her eyes and bawling her hands into fists.

“Love. Say it.” He matches her furrowed eyebrows, swallowing his pride.

“Stop it! Stop playing with my emotions!” Her desperate shout had made him flinch, his nostrils flare with a heavy exhale.

“I did what I thought was best for you at the time. So you wouldn’t pay for my mistakes anymore. I hate that you got caught in all of it, but that’s over now and I…I’m selfish and Rinaldo told me you came here and I…I hoped you were here for me. I just…”

“You took my right to choose. That’s what you did.” Y/N held back tears, everything she tried to hold against him crumbling now when he stood before her as broken as she is.

Shaking her head, she walked by him, entered the hotel and prepared to sit in the Impala when a hand on her arm swung her around and flush against his chest.

Another loud sound echoed in her ears, distant screams following and Grayson’s arms around her tightened as he jerked forward.

“We got him!” She heard some men yell, but that’s the last thing on her mind as her eyes connect with Grayson’s.

“Goodnight.” He whispered, the sound barely making a dent as her mind is racing and her heartbeat is deafening.

He falls back down, her arms unable to stop his collapse.

Y/N shakes him once, seeing his eyes are closed and his are shut.

“Wake up!” She grabbed him by the collar, violently shaking him.

“Wake up, you selfish son of a bitch!” Her voice breaks the self-imposed sternness, her fingers clutching the fabric of his suit.

“You promised me a forevermore! You promised me a fairytale!” The raspiness of her voice and the cracks are enough testimony for the break inside her chest.

“You’re the bad guy, not the prince! And bad guys always get what’s coming to them!”

The memory of her venomous words clouded her sanity, her hands trembling and her lips quivering.

“I was wrong.” She bowed her head down, a choked sob escapes her.

“You’re the prince. My prince. I was just so angry…and hurt!” The tears she couldn’t hold back fall in waterfalls, her head lowering until it’s on his chest. Her skin eyes closed in hopes of waking from this terrible nightmare.

“I love you.” She whispered into his chest, breaking down when he didn’t say it back. She thought she should be used to it by now, but this time was different.

Grayson always chose to say goodbye instead of 'I love you’ for that would mean falling and she was always afraid of heights. So goodbye and a kiss on her forehead seemed like a good way to go in his mind, letting her know she is in his heart without scaring them both with the daunting words.

Somewhere deep inside, she knew it too. She knew he loved her and feared saying it out loud for it would make her a target in his world and he couldn’t imagine something happening to her because of him.

“All this time I’ve blamed you. For pulling me into the dark. But I was wrong. It was me who brought out your dark side.” She broke down, none of her hate for him remaining. Love…hate, it was always a fine line to walk on.

“Is he?” Ethan fell to his knees, watching in shock. His gun falls beside him, no more strength to hold it in his hands.

“Oh, God!” Y/N punched his chest in despair, screaming with her whole body so loudly in her hurt. The scream came again, desperate, terrified... human.

“Guys?” A faint voice stopped Y/N’s wails, making her look at Grayson who just opened his eyes in confusion.

“You son of a bitch!” She slaps him, standing up with the back of her hand at her mouth as both guys let out a strong of ‘Hey’s!’

“What did our ma’ ever do to you?!” Ethan chuckles, wiping his own fake tear away before smacking his brother and helping him open his suit, showing the vest.

“Did you just fake your dead to hear me say all those things?!” She shouted at him, kicking a rock in her anger and he pressed his lips together to stop himself from admitting the truth.

“You made me watch Far and Away, had to use it eventually! And you said you do love me, so shut up and hear me out for one moment. Y/N, please!” Grayson stood up, motioning for Ethan to give them some space.

She reluctantly stops, crossing her arms over her chest and looks to him. Fourth time he pleads. All four times with her. He didn’t even plead for his life.

“I know your world would be much easier without me, that’s why I told you to leave.” Grayson steps closer, wetting his lips.

“But it wouldn’t be my world without you in it. You pushed me away when I needed you the most!” She averts her gaze, hating the vulnerability in her voice as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the chipped nail polish with a crooked smile.

“Look at me.” He’s not asking, rather demanding and she can feel the subtle difference just as she can feel his warm hand wrap around hers.

“Doll, look at me.” He uses the damn nickname, the very one that started the whole storm he brought into her life.

“I hate how weak you make me feel.” She states, looking into his eyes at last and he smiles, shaking his head.

“Whenever you think you feel weak, just remember you’re Y/N Y/L/N and I, Grayson Dolan absolutely love you with all my heart. You make me weak and I’m not ashamed to admit it.” He leaned down, trying not to look long at her as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.

Saying I love you is the bravest thing he has ever done in his life, for it took every ounce of strength and courage to openly expose his feelings to the love of his life. He knew he didn’t deserve her as she’s always been too good for him, but he swore he’d spend the rest of his life building himself up to be the kind of man she’d be proud of.

Hearing him say the words finally took her last bit of doubt and she jumped into his arms without holding back. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. She sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the world warmer somehow, her future within seeming a little less bleak.

“Say it again.” She whispers into his chest, getting a rumble in return as he chuckled.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He repeated over and over until she couldn’t take it any longer and her lips crashed onto his.

Soul meets soul on lover’s lips.

In the end, she was right… People don’t write sonnets about being compatible, or novels about shared life goals and stimulating conversation. The great loves are the crazy ones. The kinds that are epic always take a toll on both parties.

“You’re not off the hook though.” Y/N broke the kiss, needing air as her lungs began to burn.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” Grayson smirked, brushing his nose against hers for an Eskimo kiss.

For now, all he wanted is to get her home and in his bed and just talk…Talk about what she’s been doing the past three months, every detail he has missed. He wondered if she realized he pulled strings and dropped her name in every corner of New York to get her a job when she left. He wonders if she’s figured out he’s the anonymous donor that got her into Columbia. If she hadn’t, he’d never speak of it. She deserved some good in her life and he was dedicated to make it happen for her.

“God gave me a good, beautiful woman and I have every intention on loving her well.”

With his rivals gone, he slowly pulled out of the illegal branches of his work and legitimized his business completely. He wanted a safer life for her and his family, one he hoped to start with her by his side. He changed without even realizing it and it’s all for her. It’s always been for her.

And although this is not where their story ends – wrapped in each other’s arms as they sit in her Impala, Y/N driving Grayson for the first time ever, this is where we leave them.

Every song has a CODA, a final movement. Whether it fades out or crashes away, every song ends. Is that any reason not to enjoy the music?

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Tags: @fallinginlove-16 @godlydolans @accalialionheart @heyits-claire @xalayx