#sees two guards having a smoke break on the driveway

[oftenwantedafton]

the wraith | dave miller x female reader

rating | explicit

part 1/?

words | 3.5k

cw | none for this chapter

ao3 link

You’ve got a crush on your neighbor who lives across the street.

And really, aren’t you just embarrassed, ashamed to be feeling something like this obsessive, borderline manic schoolgirl affection at your age? Two decades on this planet and you haven’t learned any better by now?

No, you’re not embarrassed nor ashamed and no, you haven’t learned any better either, apparently, because from the moment you’d phoned the number on the advertisement in the local newspaper, inquiring about the affordable apartment that’s just become vacant, you’d been doomed to this fate.

Cursed to become besotted with the man that you see standing so casually beneath the pergola leading to the side yard smoking a cigarette, the wood beams laden with pendulous boughs of wisteria, their sweet perfume flooding the air, even at this distance. You’re just bringing the last of your things inside and he’s just leaving for work, apparently, the lanky figure clad in a security guard uniform crossing the front yard to reach the driveway and enter a toffee colored sedan, leaving a puff of smoke in his wake.

Even though it had been the briefest of glimpses, you’re already hooked, addicted, infatuated. That sooty, messy hair, those tired eyes, the contrasting gaunt cheekbones and generous lips appeal to you instantly. He moves differently, too; not just a normal human stride, but something more stealthy, slinky, smooth, the way a panther might prowl across the grass. You’ve forgotten, for a moment, how to breathe; forgotten the box that weighs your arms down, your attention focused solely on capturing every moment of your new neighbor’s movements during this twilight hour.

“I wouldn’t.” You hear a voice and the spell finally breaks, his car gone and your attention wavering. Its owner is the elderly woman who lives downstairs from you. It’s her that’s renting the apartment, now that her grandson has moved out and into a home of his own. She’s talkative, this one; you’d noticed it instantly. Lonely, perhaps, now that the last family member has left.

“Wouldn’t what?”

“Get involved with that one. Call him the wraith, because that’s what he is. A ghost that can’t stop haunting what he once had, a sliver of who he used to be. Thought himself so high and mighty, once. Had a wife, children. Ran that restaurant, the one with the talking robot animals. He’s changed his name, had moved out for awhile, but now he’s back and I remember him. I remember who he was.” Her voice gets a soft touch of reverie at the end as she grows lost in some memory.

You blink, overwhelmed by the information dump, but it doesn’t daunt you in the slightest. “What’s his name?”

“I forget,” she mumbles, frowning. “Dave something is what he’s calling himself.” She turns and opens the screen door, pausing. “Miller,” she says.

“Like the beer,” you joke.

“I wouldn’t know.”

The door snaps shut behind her.

***

You think you hear the vintage car returning the next morning, sometime around seven. It doesn’t sound like modern automobiles; it has more of a distinctive, throaty purr. You’re still tired from unpacking the night before, still have a lot left ahead of you, so you don’t rise to peer out the window. That comes later in the day, with you staring across the street, watching and waiting for him to reappear, but he doesn’t. You’re sitting at the bottom of the stairs on the side of the house that lead to your new apartment later that evening, chin in hand, wondering what he might be doing inside. Getting caught up on sleep? Chores? What did he do all day, in that big house, all by himself?

“You back out here again moping? I told you to leave it alone. You don’t want the kind of trouble that man brings, believe you me,” your landlord mutters, moving down the line of her flower boxes, giving each a healthy dose of water.

“What kind of trouble does he bring?” You let your hand drop, tucking it with its partner between your knees.

“Kids went missing from that restaurant of his. Snatched them right up from under their parents’ noses. God only knows what he did with them.”

“If that’s the case, then why isn’t he in jail?”

“Because they couldn’t prove it. Never found any bodies. They just vanished. But we knew. We all knew.”

You worry your bottom lip. Suddenly your prospective crush didn’t seem quite as appealing. “But how did you know, if there was no proof?”

The watering can empties, the last few drops falling, and the woman gives you a sharp look. “We just did. And the wife knew it, too. They never said exactly how she passed on. Maybe he did her in, or maybe she did herself in. And his own kids…well, all labeled as accidents, but I doubt that’s fully the truth, either.”

“That’s horrible.”

“‘Course it is. That’s why I’m trying to steer you right. Stay away from that man. You’ll be glad you did. I’m heading in now, before the mosquitos eat me alive. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You hear the screen door snap closed, signaling her return indoors. You’re just about to rise and do the same when you see the man back beneath the pergola again, the end of another cigarette flaring to life. He glances in your direction, in what might have been a casual observation, but it doesn’t feel anything like that. Those eyes are boring right into you, even at this distance. Your breath hitches and your hand remains frozen on the railing. You think there might be a slight twitch of his lips around that paper roll slotted between them, an almost-not-quite smile, before you turn around and ascend the staircase, returning to your apartment. You twitch aside the curtain when you reach your bedroom to discover he’s still standing there, head tipping back slightly to exhale a stream of smoke, and you swear he’s looking at you again. You let the curtain drop back into place, your heart pounding.

It takes you a very long time to fall asleep.

***

The next night is bingo night, and you’re invited, which you politely decline.

You have to admit your landlord looks charming, all dressed up, lipstick on, ready for an evening out. You promise to water the flowers for her and wave as she settles into the car of one of her friends who’s dropped by to give her a ride to the local bingo hall. You fill up the watering can, noting the water leaking out around the spout of the faucet. The gasket has probably rotted out. You’ll mention it the next time you see her, it wasn’t a difficult fix.

You turn, and of course the man across the street is outside once again, in his customary security uniform, one hand tucked into his pants pocket, the other bringing the usual cigarette to his lips. You wonder if that’s all he exists on, accounting for his thin build. Maybe just cigarettes and coffee, and the occasional solid item just to survive, the bare minimum necessary.

You busy yourself with the watering and do your best to ignore him, knowing he’s watching you, wanting desperately to look but forcing yourself not to. You reach the end of the line of flower boxes and the watering can runs out of water. You’ll have to face in his direction to return it to where the homeowner keeps it tucked beside the porch, right next to the latticed edging. You inhale deeply and resolve to meet his gaze.

Oh. He’s still staring, and you can’t look away this time. You bend slightly to set the watering can down and find yourself moving across the street, glancing to either side just long enough to check for approaching cars before crossing the road. You step on the lawn which looks like it’s quite overdue for a trim, ducking beneath the long pergola dripping purple blossoms, finally grinding to a halt when you reach your neighbor. He is so pretty, so stupidly attractive. Even his hands warrant attention, you think, noting a willowy wrist peeking from beneath the fastened shirt sleeve, the fingers pinching the cigarette long and slender.

“It’s too hot to wear long sleeves.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind. Not how you’d planned on greeting him, not that you’d planned on greeting him at all, but here you are, standing on his property.

He takes a drag and shrugs. Broadly spread shoulders, but thin. “Do I look hot?”

You want to answer yes. Even his voice. Even his voice is sultry, raspy, sinful. Instead you introduce yourself, stating your name, declaring you’ve moved in across the street. Nothing like stating the obvious. “You’ve been watching me,” you conclude.

One dark eyebrow rises, stirring the obsidian hair that tumbles over his forehead. “You’ve been watching me,” he replies. Caught. Guilty as charged.

“Not really,” you mumble. The scent of the wisteria is stronger here. It’s almost too much, too cloying, overpowering. “My landlord says your name is Dave Miller.” It’s like pulling teeth, trying to get the man to volunteer dialogue. Customary to introduce oneself once you’ve been told the other person’s name, but he isn’t picking up on any of the traditional polite social cues, or maybe he’s just choosing to ignore them outright.

“That’s not all she’s said, I’ll wager.” He flicks a bit of ash onto the lawn. You’re noticing now there are burned patches here and there from previous careless strikes where he’s missed the cement squares that had once served as a smooth walkway, now overgrown. “Well? Am I right?”

“Yes,” you admit grudgingly. God, those eyes. What would it be like to have those hovering right above your face when he…

“And?” Dave prompts. “What did she say?”

“She said she remembers you from before. You used to live here with a wife and kids. Owned a restaurant.”

“She’s mistaken. A touch senile, I’m afraid. The man who lived here before me looked quite different, I assure you. Double my size easily, or so I’ve heard.”

Heard from whom?, you think. “She doesn’t seem senile to me.”

“There’s more, isn’t there? I can see that there is. Out with it, then. You might as well follow through to the end. You’ve come this far.”

You scuff the toe of your shoe over one of the charred patches of lawn. “She said kids went missing from the restaurant. And you never got caught. And now you’re back,” you conclude.

“I remember that story. Terrible tragedy, all those poor missing children.” Miller sounds like he’s being sincere, his tone sympathetic, but you wonder if it’s false, a coverup for what’s really hiding beneath.

“She seems so sure you’re the original owner of the restaurant. And this house.”

“Would I be working as a security guard if I owned a restaurant? And why would I come back to live in the same house? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know.”

He tosses the end of the cigarette down—it lands squarely on the center of the paving stone this time—and grinds it beneath his heel. “Like I said, she’s senile. She’s confusing her details.”

“Maybe,” you say. You’re not convinced one way or the other. The elderly woman had seemed so certain. Could she really be mistaken? The man certainly wasn’t senile, but he could surely be lying. You simply can’t tell who’s right and who’s wrong. You don’t know either of them well enough yet to decide.

“Speaking of my job, I have to leave for work now.”

“Right. I should be heading back, too.” You begin walking away, turning back when you hear the older man’s voice calling one last statement to you.

“Welcome to the neighborhood.”

***

You don’t mention your conversation with Dave Miller to your landlord.

You’re still undecided about him, still wary, still hopelessly attracted to him. It’s Saturday now, and you’ve just helped her bring in the groceries, thinking maybe this is a sort of penance for the sin of your omission.

You exit the front door and for once you see Dave standing outside in regular clothes, dark pants and a long sleeve shirt of a similar color. Reminiscent of a cat burglar. You’re back in his yard before you even process what you’re doing.

“Back again? What’s the latest slander your landlord is spreading?”

“Nothing. She hasn’t said anything else.” You’re talking in a hushed tone, which is foolish, really, because she certainly couldn’t hear you at this distance.

“Hmmm.” He takes a contemplative drag. “You didn’t tell her we’ve spoken, did you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Just doesn’t seem like I needed to. I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”

“You’re good at keeping secrets, then.”

“I don’t know. I guess.”

He makes a little humming sound. “What’s your story, then? Work? School? Boyfriend?” This last said with a smirk.

“I work in medical records. Going to start my training to get my associate’s degree in the fall. I want to be a medical transcriptionist. No boyfriend.”

The dark haired man taps the end of his cigarette. “Good with your hands, then? Typing,” he adds, doing a quick little mimicking gesture with those nimble looking fingers of his, but you think the implied innuendo was quite intentional.

“I manage alright, yes,” you admit, feeling color rise in your cheeks.

“Don’t mind all those gruesome descriptions? I can imagine some of it must be quite graphic.”

“No, it doesn’t bother me.”

Miller inhales and exhales, looking thoughtful. You feel yourself being measured, judged. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you.

“Walk with me. Your friend is spying. I can see her from here.” He nods and you turn to see the lace curtains in the first floor window shifting. You can only imagine the lecture you’re going to get for not heeding her advice later on.

The raven haired man leads you to the back of the property, where you discover plots of dirt that are full of weeds and a patio area that looks as neglected as the front and side yard, the furniture coated in pollen and dirt.

“It’s a shame there’s nothing planted here. The soil looks good,” you murmur.

“You have a green thumb?” He sounds surprised.

“A bit. My parents had a garden at their house. Vegetables, mostly.”

“I’ve no use for it, really. The inside of the house is in a similar state. Unused, untouched space.”

“Why buy it? If it’s just you…”

He smiles bitterly. “It was very cheap. They were practically giving it away.”

“Because of what happened to the wife and kids?”

Dave’s gaze sharpens, the cigarette pinched between his fingers temporarily forgotten. “What do you know about that?”

“Not much. Just heard there were accidents,” you answer carefully. You’re still not sure what to make of this creature. Maybe your landlord was right after all. There’s something a bit unsettling about the clean shaven man standing beside you, as attractive as he still is to you. You just can’t figure out what it is yet.

“She does like to gossip, doesn’t she?” A fresh cloud of smoke blooms, courteously diverted to the side. He almost looks relieved.

“I think she’s just lonely.”

“What about you? Are you lonely?”

The question startles you. You haven’t given the matter much thought. You suppose you are a bit isolated at the moment. That’s how it is, starting over in a new town. But you get along with your coworkers, and you think you’ll do fine in school. You’re due for a visit with family soon, too. “No, I…I don’t think so,” you stammer. “I’m managing alright.”

Your companion grunts, grinding out the last of the nicotine laced roll. At the rate he’s going, the yard is going to be littered with them in no time, you think.

“Listen. The house could use some cleaning and organizing. I can’t be bothered with half the things that need to be done. Would you be interested in working part time, maybe one or two days a week?”

“Working as a housekeeper for you?”

“Yes, something like that.”

You blink, surprised by this offer. You’re once again wondering why this man would want this home, cheap or not, when he clearly has no interest in its care and maintenance.

Dave rakes a hand through his hair and smiles at you, the first, seemingly most sincere one he’s offered. You can see his teeth now, noting the chipped gap between two of the molars on the top row on the left side. They’re surprisingly white, in spite of the smoking habit; perhaps this was a newer addiction to supplement a previous one. “I’ll give you a tour if you want. You can think about it. Let me know what you think. No pressure.”

“Um, yeah. I guess. Sure.” You find yourself returning the smile somewhat apprehensively. He pulls the back door open and gestures for you to step inside.

You hesitate. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.

Don’t be ridiculous, you argue silently. What, is he going to murder you in broad daylight? With people all around?

“So where do you work, anyway? What do you guard?” You’re trying to keep your voice casual as you step inside. It’s not well lit. It smells dusty.

The older man is just behind you. The door clicks shut. The dusty odor is replaced with the scent of the cigarette he’d just smoked. Aftershave. He stands very close, so near your sleeves practically brush each other.

“Didn’t I mention it already?”

“No, you didn’t.” You wait for him to move forward, to guide you. Instead he makes a gesture for you to lead the way, to explore. You’re in a kitchen. Large. Copper molds hanging from the backsplash, in need of cleaning. Dishes in the sink. You’re willing to bet the refrigerator was either empty like a typical bachelor’s or else filled with forgotten, expired items. You’re hoping it’s the former.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Where do you work?”

He steps past you now, finally taking the lead. Dining room, living room. These dusty as well but otherwise not alarmingly untidy. Upright piano in the corner, you note.

“Freddy’s,” he says off handedly.

“What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of it?”

“No.”

He clicks his tongue. “Children these days.”

“I’m not a child,” you remind him. “I’m also not from around here.”

“That’s right. Well. It’s—it was—a children’s party themed restaurant. Arcade. Animatronics. Quite impressive.”

“Wait. You mean the place with the talking robot animals?”

His eyes narrow. “A very crude and vulgar way to refer to the genius instilled in that place, but yes. The very same.”

“So you’re working at the restaurant, the same one, that the guy who kidnapped the kids from owned?”

“Allegedly kidnapped,” he murmurs. “Yes.”

“And you live in his house.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think that’s maybe just a little bit of a strange coincidence?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Why are you guarding the place if it closed down?”

“Because people are thieves. People are nosy, like your landlord. Someone has to stand guard.”

“I guess,” you mumble, unconvinced.

“Shall we continue the tour then?”

“Okay.”

“Half bath here. Basement,” he taps on one door as you pass it. “Stays locked. Don’t go down there.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Basements creep me out.”

“Four bedrooms upstairs.” He ascends the steps two at a time. You can barely keep up. The man was speedy. “One’s being used for storage, you can ignore that for now. One’s been converted to an office. This is the master. Full bathroom there. And the final room is a guest room.”

“Plan on having guests?”

“You never know.”

“Right. Well, it doesn’t seem too rough. I could tackle it. Couple days a week, like you said.”

“Precisely.”

“What are you going to do about the outside?”

“I don’t know. Hire a lawn service, I guess.”

“But what about the garden and all that?”

“As I’ve said, I’ve no use for it.”

“It’s a shame to let it go to waste, really.”

Another shrug. You follow him back down the stairs and your eyes fall on the piano again. “Do you play?”

“No. That came with the house. Just like the rest of the furniture.”

“Oh.” You rub your bare arms nervously. “Well, I guess that’s it then. Any particular days you were thinking of?”

“Maybe Tuesday and Saturday, afternoons, if that suits you?”

“Alright.” You pause. “Aren’t you going to be sleeping before you go to work? I’m not going to disturb you?”

“It’ll be fine.”

Miller escorts you to the front door this time. “Tell your friend I said hello. I’m sure she’s got herself in an absolute state by now. You’ve just gotten to see something she’s likely been curious about for years.”

“She’s not bad, honestly. I think it’s all just a misunderstanding.”

“Maybe,” he says, cracking another one of those bright smiles. “See you Tuesday.”

The door closes behind you and you feel as if you’re waking from a dream, the entire experience surreal.

Had you really just agreed to clean the neighbor's house twice a week?

[cookstorys]

Can you write Harlan and male reader where Harlan is sensitive but still a little guarded and reader says something he shouldn’t and has to apologize?

𝙰𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜

_____________

Character- Harlan Briggs

Show/Movie- Wolf Pack

Warning- Soft! Harlan

Females Dni

_____________

You hated seeing Harlan cry, you truly did. He’s hard on the outside and acts all tough and mighty but on the inside, he’s just a big softy. He was like a super big egg that needed comforting and You genuinely didn’t mind giving it to him. However, when you slipped up this once you knew it was over.

Waking up in your bed felt different today. As if something was going to happen. This turned out to be proven correct when you got a call from your boyfriend to come to pick up him and his troublesome friends from the police station. After picking up and dropping off Everett and Blake. You pulled up the Brigg’s residence driveway and came to a stop.

An uncomfortable silence filled the car. Luna took a deep breath breaking the silence then spoke. “Thank you for doing that. Dad would have killed us.” Luna awkwardly laughed trying to make the tension a little less unbearable. “No problem.” Then silence fell between the teens again. Luna could feel the tension rise more between the couple so she thought it’ll be best if she removed herself. “I have to go do..stuff, thanks again.” She spoke opening the door and leaving the two boys alone.

“What were you thinking Harlan.” You scoffed. Harlan hadn’t been acting the same lately and you had thoughts it was probably deep but you thought it would’ve been best to give him space. Getting arrested, however, was crossing the line. “Look, I’m sorry. I wanted to hang out with some friends and with my dad going missing I thought a good smoke session would be great.” Harlan defended hating the fact he had to lie to his boyfriend. It’s not that Harlan didn’t trust [name], he trusted him with his life if it came down to it. Harlan just wasn’t ready to take that big of a leap.

“Harlan, you can’t keep using that bullshit as an excuse that you did it to ‘feel better about your missing father’. Why can’t u just be a normal human being and get fucking therapy? Or hell talk to me, your fucking boyfriend!” Harlan was speechless after that. Is that all [name] thought he was doing? Using his dad as an excuse to ‘act out’, that he was too close off for [name]’s liking, that Harlan wasn’t ‘normal’?

Streams of tears started to fall from the boy's eyes. His lip started to quiver under [name] sight and words. He was vulnerable in front of the other boy. He was vulnerable because of the other boy. “ You’re an ass [last name].” He cried and Exit the car leaving his, now regretful, boyfriend with his thoughts.

_________Time Skip_________

The two twins sat in silence as one slept on the other's lap. Luna hated seeing her brother like this and she wanted the story but first, she wanted to know if her brother will be ok. When the time came for her to ask questions, she realized her twin was far too asleep to answer anything. A knock at the door brought Luna out of her thoughts. She looked towards the wooden door to see who dared to interrupt such a peaceful moment. When her eyes landed on you she just rolled them.

She moved Harlan’s head so it could be laid on his pillow and practically ran towards the door, pulling you by you’re ear with her. “Ow, what the fuck Luna.” You whispered trying not to wake your sleeping boyfriend that’s 3feet away. “ Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me. I should be ‘what the fuck’ing you. What the fuck did you do my brother.” She yelled back trying to keep her voice down along with you. Both teens knew to never awaken the other teen from his sleep, life it death situations included.

“Wait, I kinda got lost in all the ‘what the fuck’ing. What were we talking about again.” You confessed. Luna rolled her eyes heavily. “You know what, I don’t care what happened. Just fix it.” She stated sternly walking away with a huff.

Each step towards the door felt heavy. You always were scared of confrontation but seeing your boyfriend sleeping peacefully on his bed made everything a lot less stressful. You turned the lights off, left your shoes by the headboard, and climbed in bed behind him, wrapping your arm across his torso. “I’m sorry, I’m an asshole, Harlan.” You apologized then kissed the crook of his neck and buried yourself in it. Little to your knowledge Harlan was wide awake and when he knew you were asleep, he got deeper into your embrace with a smile.

[justagirlwhowritess]

Granite

Part Two to Chokehold. This takes place a few months after their initial kiss.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Tomura,” you said. You were driving back to his place. “You never do. I’m your best friend. You are supposed to talk to me.” he muttered. “Yeah, well you don’t like the idea of me and Dabi so why would I tell you about it?” the feeling of regret was seeping into your chest. You don’t know how to explain to your best friend the situation you are in, you can’t even explain it to yourself. He wouldn’t understand. “I’m more than just some random dude in your passenger seat, y/n. You can talk to me.” his anger was prevalent. You sighed, wanted to apologize but it never left your lips. “I know, Tomura, I know.” The words were accompanied by a sigh from him as you pulled into his driveway. “You’ll be at the party tonight, right?” he asks, a more hopeful tone now surfacing. “Of course, I'll be there after my exam.” he gets out of your car and you head back to your apartment, ready to get the exam out of the way. 

Staring at the computer screen while you flip through your notes you hear your phone buzz. You sigh, picking it up to check it quickly. It’s Dabi. He had been texting you every so often, but you had come to learn the way he operates, how he treats women, and what he does to make money. Are you surprised? No. Is it a little off putting? Yeah. 

Dabi: will i be seeing you tonight?

You: its tomura’s party. You already know that I will be there.

Your tone comes off as harsh, only because Dabi has this way of making you feel special, then immediately ruining it. An example, the last party you were at, Dabi was there, doing his deals, his “break” he spends with you, you flirt, you kiss, he makes you laugh, then he leaves you be. You stumble into him a few hours later, coming out of a room, hair disheveled, a girl pulling her dress down coming out behind him, and you realize you aren’t the only girl he has finessed that evening. Even though your relationship status in non-existant you can feel your heart breaking every time you see him with a girl that isn’t you. Dabi keeps himself hidden behind walls, thick walls that he never intends to break down. He has been this way since he ran away from his family. He had no intention of changing anything, until you came along. He wants to show you that he is all about you, but he can’t bring himself to tear down any of those walls. It always ends the same, him full of regret for ever letting anyone in. His internal struggle leads him to do what he is used to, running, running from his problems and pushing people away. That is what Dabi is good at. One night stands, friends with benefits, have always been his style. No strings attached, no commitment, and no silly feelings to ruin everying. His silly little feelings for you are ruining everything. He is ruining everything. He is trying to push you away because thoughts of you make his chest hurt, his head dizzy, he can’t think straight when you’re around and he hates it but he can’t stop himself.

You were on Tomura’s patio, smoking a cigarette, swirling the mixed drink in your cup. You had watched Dabi go upstairs hand in hand with some girl he had been dealing to and flirting with the entire night. Tears were swimming in your eyes as you took another puff. “Are you doing alright?” Keigo asks, now decided someone needed to check on you. Tomura was still upset from earlier so it made sense for him to be ignoring you. A laugh leaves your lip as you put out the smoke, tossing it into an ashtray that was on the ground. “Nope. But that isn’t unusual. “ Your reply makes him tilt his head. “This is about Dabi?” His question makes you roll your eyes. “Are you his friend?” you asked, watching him carefully. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?” his response catches you off guard, why does he guess he is his friend? You shake the thought from your mind. “What is his deal? He acts like he gives a shit about me, says shit I wanna hear and then goes and fucks someone else.” you ask, his eyes widen. “Oh. I don’t know, he usually is a one night stand or friends with benefits kind of guy. I haven’t seen him get attached to anyone.” Kiego’s words confirm your fears. “Do you think he’s using me?” you ask, more quietly than you had intended. Keigo sighs, stepping closer pulling you close to him. “Dabi might be a douchebag, but I have reason to believe you mean something more to him, what that something is, however, I can’t say.” he tells you. “Because it isn’t your place?” you ask once more. “No. It’s because he doesn’t talk to me about gushy shit like feelings.” His words bring you comfort for the time being but it’s fleeting once Dabi has joined you both outside. “Awfully close with my girl there, Takami.” Dabi smirks, Keigo releases you. You now stand between the two eyes darting between them deciding what to do. “Come here, doll.” Dabi’s words pull you from your thoughts. You take his hand and he pulls you in front of him, you lean lightly on the railing, feeling more sober than you had just moments ago. You were trapped between him and the railing. Keigo gets the hint and goes inside. Dabi stinks, the girl's perfume was strong, latching to him. You wrinkled your nose, unbeknownst to him, you don’t know if you can handle this, whatever this is. “We should talk,” you said quietly. “Why?” he asked, now meeting your gaze. “Because, you stink, and I don’t know what we are.” your words only ignited something in him. “I don’t know what you mean.” he spoke in the tone he uses with others, the one he now rarely uses with you. You have hung out with him more than at just the parties, it’s just more of a convenience for him to see you there. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t walk you to class or take you out sometimes. He acts like a boyfriend, everywhere that it doesn’t matter, and everywhere it does, he is with someone else, forgetting your existence entirely. Dabi’s heart is racing right now. Where did the attitude come from? He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. “We are-” the words die on his lips. He hadn’t really thought about it, he hadn’t stopped thinking about it, he knew he was going to have to broach this subject eventually. “I feel like I'm being led on.” you whisper, both hands flat against his chest. Your heart racing to match his, this isn’t the first time you have tried to approach him about this. He usually waves you off, dismissing you and how you feel.

The rest of this is on A03 it was too long D:

[kyriolex]

We don’t kill our oppressive upper class with fancy guillotines like the French. Real Americans use duct tape and a Glock 17 pistol.

[rosemaryandarsenic]

do u have any hc's for domestic life w/ gareth ..?

DO I! Oh my god, too many haha. Both fluff and NSFW HC’s to follow so minors, this is your warning lol.

- firstly, Gareth radiates dad vibes. He’s always watching for deals on new tech, I feel like he’s the kind of person to get an in home computer and he’s SO EXCITED about it.

- he absolutely has a VHS collection that turns into a CD collection. Even as they lose popularity he keeps those CD’s and tapes, still has a huge stereo even though he could just use Spotify.

- he hates mowing the lawn, def a cool weather kind of guy. Loves the fall and winter, enjoys going out and shoveling the driveway then sitting outside with a mug of coffee or tea.

- goes all out for Halloween and Christmas, wouldn’t be caught dead with Easter themed anything. It took him awhile to get into Valentine’s Day but now he buys you flowers every year in excess. I could see him getting you one of those lego flower sets so you can save them.

- can’t keep plants alive to save his life. Literally manages to kill everything except one pot of violets his sisters got him one year. He guards them with his life. They froze one year and he literally cried and has never forgiven himself for letting them die.

- drinks black coffee, prefers tea to coffee though. A big fan of Irish breakfast tea. Thinks Starbucks is a waste of time. Secretly goes for pumpkin spice season though. Will deny that like his life depends on it. I just know he’s the kind of dad that would take his girls though, wouldn’t let anyone call them basic.

- speak of dad, he’s def the dad that has the treat tax. Like he gets his kids treats and surprises all the time but he always gets a piece of their candy or a bite of whatever. Yknow that meme where the dad is reaching back while driving? That. The dad tax.

- owns a frankly ridiculous amount of socks, none of them match and he doesn’t even know which ones are his at this point. Like, you’re at the store and he tosses a pack in the cart and you’re like, “again?!” And he’s just like, “listen-“

- he’s def messy but if there are dishes in the sink or coffee mugs on his desk he will freak out. ADHD clean if you know what I mean.

- hates typical sports, will not watch them and will not play them. One of his kids asks to join the football team and he’s like, “why don’t you take a dance class instead?”

- he’s the kind of husband who signs you both up to learn salsa and then proceeds to nearly break both of your legs because he simply cannot dance. It’s okay though because he tries so hard and it’s fucking adorable.

- enjoys slow dancing with you whenever possible. When you two started dating he’d play Top of the World by the Carpenters or Our House by Cosby and swirl you around his parents kitchen. His mom caught you one time and nearly cried because it was so precious.

- this man loves his mother. Like, would do anything for that woman. When he met you, it was exactly the same. Huge family guy but has daddy issues so male authority figures are not his fav. If you’re family though, he’d guard you with his life.

- got bullied a lot in HS obviously. If Eddie came back alive he’d tell him about what Jason did and apologize profusely for spilling even the tiniest bit of info. Eddie forgives him completely but Gareth never really lets go of it and feels horrible about it to this day.

- if he ever found out one of his children was getting bullied he’d literally lose it. Like, irrationally angry and has to go smoke in the garage to calm down so he doesn’t kick some 12 year olds ass.

- teaches his kids D&D.

- always wanted kids, but never wanted you to feel pressured. If y’all got pregnant anytime, teens or later he’d literally drop everything to prep for being a dad. Gets scared alot about not being able to provide for you.

- I feel like he’d take up piano as well as his drums, so he would have something he could practice quietly. Finds peace in creating things whether it’s music or art. Literally gets lost in the rhythm.

- so many good flannels and sweaters

- can’t sing for shit but likes to sing to you

- doesn’t know how to do “manly” things because his dad was not around so he asks Eddie to teach him how to fix cars and build shit. He’s really good at sewing and mending things, likes to cook too. Can’t bake for shit but he’ll try if it’s important. Ended up getting really into cars and bikes, never owned a motorcycle though.

- big breeding kink. Like. Aggressively into it lol.

- he rips your underwear a lot because he’s needy and just pulls them off lmao

- has broken two bed frames of yours, once in college and once in your first apartment. Now you just have one of those box frames with drawers that holds the mattress because he can’t be trust haha

- fucks your on top of the dryer while the kids are asleep, or sneaks you into the garage to smoke and fuck in the car.

- begged you to get some type of pet like a cat or a dog when you finally have your own place

- has always wanted a pet snake

- major pediatrician or English/history/music teacher vibes

- took him three years after high school to go to college because he wanted to just find his own way and HS really burnt him out.

- stops drinking around 25, just not into it. Says he likes being more present. Maybe would have the occasional beer or glass of wine on special occasions but really hates hard liquor.

- played with the band into his 30s! They have a couple albums and quit after Eddie had his second kid.

- Jeff and him are life long friends, they still play video games together once a week even if they’re 60 and retired lmao

- does not like being outdoors much but is really good at camping and swimming. Has a big connection with nature when he’s in it, it’s just not very often.

- takes you to drive ins all the time

- gets headaches a lot

- steals your clothes. Like you’ll wander into the kitchen in the morning and he’s wearing your sweatpants that say Juicy or PINK on the ass with rhinestones. Will also wear dresses with you and skirts. A fashion icon really.

- he takes up the entire bed when he’s sleeping, steals all the blankets and talks in his sleep.

- the kind of guy who lifts up his leg when he farts and laughs at it, idk what to tell you about that one

- he loves bubble baths

- literally cannot work blinds for the life of him. Like, he’s always pulling the chord wrong and then getting really mad when they come down lopsided and he has to come to you begging for help because he just can’t do it.

- opens pickle jars on the first try every single time

- smells really good, somehow always sweet but in a natural musky way.

- hates the sound of people chewing but also chews really loudly himself

- one time during sex, you were on top and he grabbed your boobs and yelled, “what’re thooosee.”

- makes jokes at the wrong time, all of the time.

- people think he’s angry all the time but he’s just quiet until he trusts you and then he talks your ear off and gets so fucking loud

- watches TV at full volume with no awareness of his surroundings like a heathen lmao

- collects comics

- will not go within 10 feet of spiders

- constantly dehydrated, chugs water all the time and it’s still not enough

- he’s really good with animals. Y’all have chickens, and he always wanted to work on a farm. Teaches your kids 4H stuff, but doesn’t like the idea of scouts because it “encourages kids to romanticize the military instead of helping the community”

- he loves rock collecting

- buys lots of crystals

- superstitious as fuck

- really good at running but hates working out, he only does it so he can perform on stage and keep up with his kids.

- really into yoga and Pilates, but can’t meditate at all, gets distracted too easily.

- he’s a causal enabler, if you want something he buys it then and there and if you’re debating something he just does it for you. Can’t say no to his partner or his kids.

- he goes to therapy on and off again, practices coping mechanisms and reads a lot of workbooks. Hates the mass produced self help books but wants to stay self aware so he’s always looking things up or calling his therapist to talk about it.

- still has his stuffed teddy from when he was little.

[shanastoryteller]

Underworld Dreams

i feel the need to clarify that this isn’t fiction writing, that these are about real dreams and real events that happened to me, and i was just thinking of them and thought - i should write these down 

i don’t remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t tend to put much stock in the meanings of dreams, generally

but sometimes i have dreams that are stickysharp, that are very vivid, and that feel very real to me for the first few seconds after i wake up, and then i’m always filled with an embarrassing amount of relief that no matter what’s going on in my life currently, those problems aren’t my problems

my friends call them my underworld dreams

~

the first one i had was one i was very young, less than six years old, and i don’t remember much from my actual life from that age with clarity that i remember this dream. i was alone on the street, searching for someone, but everything was empty. i wasn’t scared. then i come across two dogs, fancy poodles, but they’re not right. they see me and immediately begin arguing. “what’s she doing here? she’s not supposed to be here.” “get rid of her” “she’s here now, she might as well stay” “she’s not supposed to be here!” and i try and interrupt, but then they’re looking at me, looming, so much bigger than me when they hadn’t been before, until they’re all teeth, and i’m running. all i hear is barking, and i’m not nor have i ever been afraid of dogs, but i run and my chest hurts but no matter where i look i’m alone. the dogs aren’t there, aren’t chasing me, but i don’t know where to go. i look around and i realize that everything’s in black and white. that the only things that hadn’t been a shade of grey had been the those two dogs. life isn’t shades of grey, i remember suddenly, and i bend over to pick up one of the grey bricks lining the sidewalk. i hold it in both hands and break it in half and liquid cement pools from the broken brick onto the ground. “oh,” i say, with relief, “it’s not real. this is a dream. i can leave now.”

then i wake up. 

~

my mother dies a week before my tenth birthday and i have a dream that i do not forget. i am in the front yard, looking down at the highway from the large sloping hill of our home, leaning against a birch tree. 

there’s a car slowly rolling down our long driveway. once, when i was younger, i was left to play in the front seat of the car as it was parked on top of the long driveway. it was an old car. i moved something i shouldn’t have and the car started rolling and i screamed and screamed, knowing something bad had happened but not how to stop it, and then my mother’s boyfriend, who i hated, ran and jumped into the rolling car and slammed on the breaks. 

i am not in this car. it is getting faster, no one to slam on the breaks, and then my mother is standing next to me. “i’m in there,” she says. “you could save me.” 

i understand that this isn’t real. that my mother is dead and so she can’t be standing next to me. everything else seems so real and normal, but my mother is here like she hasn’t been for weeks, and that  means this is a dream. i look at the car rolling down the hill and remember her casket getting lowered into the ground and i say, “no. you’re already dead. you have to stay dead, that’s how this works.” 

she’s disappointed, but not angry, she stands next to me, silent, as we watch the car roll into the highway, watch it crumple, watch it roll into a ditch. when i turn to look at her, she’s gone. 

then i wake up.

i’m not relieved. i feel guilty for not saving her, even in a dream, even when she was already dead. 

i do not dream of my mother again.

~

my grandmother raised me after my mother died. my grandmother dies when i’m twelve and i do not dream of her when it happens. 

i will, years later, but not then. 

~

i’m in high school and i have another dream. i am in something between victorian england and modern day. everything is gray. i live in a small apartment. 

children keep appearing at my door. i let them in, i feed them, i cloth them. i go to food banks and schools, searching for who these children belong to, but no one claims them, so i keep them. it’s so hard to keep them, but i can’t leave them. 

some of the children get sick. i do my best, but some of them die. 

i put the bodies in the closet and lock the door. i tell the other, living children not to go near the closet. 

i go searching. dead children don’t belong in closets. i go to the hospital, but they say they will not take random dead children. i go to the police and they laugh at me, saying no one will take them, that i’ll have to get rid of them on my own. 

i am angry and desperate but there is a part of me that is not surprised. 

i go home. i will have to keep the dead children in the closet. the living children ask questions, reach for the closet, and i stand in front of it, standing between my dead children in the closet and the living children in front of me, knowing that they can’t open it, that i have to keep it closed, because if i open it then my living children will walk into the closet with my dead children and they will not come out.

then i wake up. 

i do not have any dead children in my closet. the relief is sharp, but not sweet.

~

i have a loft bed in college because the tiny room i’m sharing in this small apartment is not big enough for us to fit two bed side by side. 

i dream that i wake up in this bed, in a place that’s not my own. there are children there, that i know but do not recognize. they cry out when they see me and yell for me to climb down. i do and they grasp my hands, pulling me outside. 

my grandmother is there. other people that i do not recognize but that i know are there. the children are my cousins. these people are my family. we are outside and it is beautiful and bright. the grass is green and soft. 

i sit and talk with my grandmother as the children play. the children run off somewhere else. 

“i’m so glad you’re staying,” someone who i thinks might be an aunt says, patting my hand. 

the first curl of unease is easy to mistake for confusion. “no, i can’t stay, i’m just visiting.” 

“visiting?” she says, pitying. “there’s no visiting. the dead have to stay dead. you know that.” 

i am cold. the grass is still soft. it’s still beautiful. i do not want to stay. 

my grandmother is sad, not pitying, when she says, “it’s too late. they’re burning the bed.” 

i am running. i do not stop to say goodbye. 

the house is burning. the children are tugging at the long legs of my loft bed, trying to to pull it to the ground, and all around me are flames. i run through them, ignoring the cries of my cousins as i climb into the loft bed, laying down and burying my face into my pillow that smells of smoke and heat just as the legs crash and i’m tumbling to the ground.

then i wake up. 

my pillow does not smell of smoke. 

~

it’s finals week and i dream that i’m in a cave. there are bars on the entrance, even though it just leads to even more cave, and guards and a warm yellow light coming from somewhere. 

i am with people i do not know. they are not concerned about leaving. i am. i get the gate open, the guards aren’t around. “come on,” i say to everyone. “let’s go. we have to go.” 

“it’s just a waste of time,” one of them tells me. “we can’t leave. where would we go?” 

i don’t understand. 

someone else puts a water bottle and a several packets of saltine crackers into my hands. “you’ll need this,” he says, not unkindly. “don’t lose them. it’s important.” 

i can’t force anyone to come with me. the guards will be back soon. they should be here now. leaving seems too easy, suddenly, but it’s not like i’m going to stay, so i go. 

the caves are confusing. it takes a long time to find my way out, and i drink most of the water and eat the saltine crackers. when i step out of the labyrinth of caves it’s too bright, brighter than it’s ever been. 

i walk for a long time. i come across a field that is a mix of golden corn and golden wheat growing side by side in a confusing, impractical mixture. 

i see a man, dark skin and greying beard, in grey overalls and a grimy henley that maybe didn’t used to be grey but is now. he has a scythe in his hands, leaning back and swinging it through the mix of corn and wheat. 

the wheat falls to the side and the scythe passes through the corn, leaving it unharmed. 

“can you help me?” i ask. “i need to go home.” 

the man startles, looking at me. “you shouldn’t be here.” 

“i know,” i say, “can you help me? i can’t figure out how to get home.” 

he stares at me for a long moment, then nods, digging a small hole in the ground with the toe of his boot. “here. you kept them, didn’t you?” 

he doesn’t specify, but i know what he means. i take out the mostly empty water bottle and the torn plastic packets of the saltine crackers. i shouldn’t have eaten them. but it was the only way to get out the cave. 

the man sighs, as if i’m tiresome, and takes them from my hands. he empties the saltine crumbs into the dirt, then pours the last of the water on top. he directs me to stand on top of the hole, and i do, and he kicks the dirt in around my feet. “they didn’t have to help you. you’re lucky they gave those to you.” 

i am. i would not have gotten out of the cave without them. i would not be going home without them. 

the man takes a step backwards, leans back, and swings the scythe through me. 

then i wake up. 

my bed is soft and warm. i wonder if i was the corn or the wheat. 

~

my cousin has been two years younger then me our whole lives and she is two years younger than me when she dies. it is strange to think that for the rest of my life my cousin will not age and i will. i live on the other side of the country to her. the last time i was home, i had a bus to catch and she was busy talking to her boyfriend, so instead of waiting to hug her goodbye, i left and said, “i’ll hug you extra hard next time,” and the pain is too familiar to be sharp. 

i dream we are in a beach house like we visited once as children, but we are adults. i am delighted to be here, with my family, warm and content and safe. my cousin is there and we’re floating in the pool and i look at her and my easy contentment falters. something is wrong. i put my arms under her shoulders and knees, like i’m supporting a child who’s just learning how to float, and she looks very still and peaceful until she cracks open an eye to grin at me. “oh no,” i say say, looking at her, remembering, “you’re dead.” disappointment flashes over her face. i wasn’t supposed to say anything. i wasn’t supposed to remember. 

then i wake up. 

i dream we at a garden we’ve never been to. it is bright and easy and the moment i see her, i know that she is dead, but she does not. i don’t tell her, i let her drag me to look at roses bloom, and try to feel for coldness in her skin, but it’s warm. i make myself smile and she doesn’t make me let go of her hand and it’s so very warm here. for the first time i want to stay, but it’s not even a choice. she looks down at our clasped hands and when she looks up, her lips are tinged blue. “oh no,” she says, and i’m reaching for her, to pull her in to hug her extra hard, but i’m not quick enough, “i’m dead.” 

then i wake up. 

can you forget you’re dead? i wonder. can you forget you’re alive? 

~

the last stickysharp dream i had was over a year ago, and it was this: 

i am at the beach with all my friends. i love them so much. it’s hot and and the sand burns my feet so we are sitting on the shoreline, damp and hot and laughing. 

there is a bright flash of light. it’s a bomb going off. i don’t know how i know, but i do, and i run. 

you can’t outrun a bomb, but i try, my first instinct to flee and the hot sand is burning my feet. it takes me too long to realize that no one else is running, that they’re all standing perfectly still, watching their death coming for them. 

my friends are still at the shoreline. the first shockwave is coming. i don’t have enough time to run back to them, even though i want to. 

i die alone 

then i wake up. 

~

i do not remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t put much meaning into dreams, generally 

generally 

[ragingbookdragon]

Black Jeans & Daphne Blue Still Make Me Think Of You

Jason Todd x M!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: Mentions of Torture and Death, Explicit Language

Author's Note: Daphne Blue by The Band CAMINO has been my new favorite song. Enjoy! -Thorne

He knelt in front of the guy he had tied to the chair. Poor bastard. He thought. Always gotta make things so difficult. Reaching up, he slapped him across the face a couple times.

“Oi, wakey, wakey.” The guy startled awake, immediately whimpering behind the gag. “Oh, good morning sleeping beauty. Have a nice nap?” The guy groaned and he chuckled, yanking down the strip of fabric. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I don’t know anything, Sentinel, I swear to God.”

Sentinel eyed him behind the mask. “You really wanna do this whole dance all over again?” he poked at one of the guy’s broken fingers. “You don’t have any more fingers to break. The next option is your toes.” He started to pull of the guy’s shoes.

“Wait! Wait!” he cried, trying to yank away. “Please don’t!”

“Tell me what I wanna know and your piggies can still go to the market,” he lazily retorted, letting go of his foot.

“But he’ll kill me!” he cried.

Sentinel stared at him. “I’m still wondering what makes you think I’m not gonna kill you too.” he deadpanned, pulling out a silver dagger.

The blade itself was fairly simply, not engraved or marked with extensive decorations of gold or ivory. No, frivolous things such as that were only meant for special and expensive weapons. This dagger had been created by someone with a decent amount of money. Meant to withstand against weathering and usage—it merely served a purpose.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me where I can find Two-Face and I’ll kill you quickly. That’ll certainly save you a lot of pain and fear from having your boss dump you in a pool of acid,” he reasoned.

The thug choked on a sob and let his head loll back. “Alright! I’ll talk!”

“Wonderful,” Sentinel smiled. “Where’s Two-Face hiding out.”

“The old courthouse in Arkham City. It’s in the center of the city, you can’t miss it.”

“How many thugs does he have with him at all times?”

The guy’s face pinched. “I don’t know, he’s got a personal guard and the normal group too.”

“No shit,” Sentinel griped. “Numbers, jackass.”

“No more than ten for his personal, but he’s got about thirty normal.”

“Weapons?”

“Anything you can think of,” the thug answered. “Guns, knives, lead pipes, everything.”

Sentinel leaned back on his haunches, thinking for a moment. “Who’s Two-Face allied with at the moment?”

“I—” The guy’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut.

“Oh, come on, do you need me to cut off a finger?”

“No, it’s—it’s just…”

“Just what?” Sentinel demanded.

“There was supposed to be a meeting tonight about discussing new gang territories,” the thug answered.

He paused and glared at him. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“You wanted to know about Two-Face only?”

“Where’s the meeting?”

“Penguin’s Iceberg Lounge.”

“Thanks.” Sentinel quipped and thrust the knife into the thug’s throat. His gasp turned into a gurgle as crimson poured down his neck and into his shirt before he ultimately slumped forward. He yanked the dagger out and wiped it on the guy’s pants before sheathing it and standing.

“Lovely,” he grunted. “Now I have to change plans.”

“You know,” someone said from above him. “Batman’s not going to be very happy about you coming into town and killing his punching bags.”

Sentinel whirled around and looked up, catching sight of a familiar Red Hood sitting rather comfortably on a metal beam, his head tipped in a cocky fashion.

He pressed a hand to his chest and dramatized, “Oh no, it’s the Red Hood!” He shut his eyes and groaned, “I admit it, I killed him. And I’ll consent to a full body search at your perusal, Red Hood.” When he didn’t hear a reply, he cracked an eye open and huffed, “You’re no fun, Nightwing usually plays along.”

Red Hood shifted and dropped to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. “What are you doing back in Gotham, Sentinel?”

“Are you asking me because you’re curious or because Batman told you?”

“I’m doing my job.”

“So, it’s because Batman told you.” he chuckled. “Since when did you become Batman’s errand boy? I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Just answer the question,” Red Hood sighed.

“Fine, fine,” Sentinel relented as he waved a hand. “Two-Face and I had a deal and he backed out of it, so now I’m trying to find him.”

The vigilante crossed his arms over his chest. “What was the deal?”

“Oh, you know, tamper with a few legal proceedings. The usual.”

“And what were you supposed to get in return?”

Sentinel scowled. “An obscene amount of money that he failed to deliver.” He started off towards the doors. “And I plan on getting what I’m owed.”

He could hear Red Hood following him. “Where are you going?”

“Our dearly deceased friend said Two-Face was attending a meeting at the Iceberg Lounge.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “If they’re discussing territory, I need to do reconnaissance in order to learn where Two-Face is gonna set back up.”

“Want some help?” Sentinel paused and turned back around, practically coming chest to chest with the much taller vigilante.

“What kind of help?” he questioned, testing the waters by toying with the zipper on Red Hood’s jacket. When the vigilante didn’t move, he tugged a little. “Your skill? Or another kindof help?”

“I’m willing to part with both,” Red Hood murmured, reaching up to hold Sentinel’s wrist. “So long as you promise not to kill Two-Face.”

He chuckled and pulled his arm away, turning to leave. “And on that note, I’ll do this on my own.”

“You’re gonna show up to the Iceberg Lounge like that?”

Sentinel turned around as he opened the door. “Of course not.” He winked. “I’m gonna go undercover.” And he was gone.

***

He smoothed the front of his black leather jacket and blue shirt as he stepped into the chilly nightclub; he was glad he actually decided to go with something warm. Lazily scanning the room, he caught sight of the full tables as well as the upper level where people were sitting and smoking expensive cigars. One particular set of doors caught his eye and upon closer inspection, he saw two armed guards standing outside, one wearing Penguin’s gang colors, the other wearing Two-Face’s.

Bingo. He thought and in order to not raise suspicion, he made his way around one of the pillars that gave him the ability to hide, but also to see the double doors as well. One of the thugs had a walkie-talkie on him and he hummed, pulling out a small device from his pocket. He played with it for a moment and when the static cleared, he grinned and raised it to his mouth.

“Aye, you still outside the office?” he asked, watching as Two-Face’s thug grabbed the radio on his thigh.

“Yeah, boss is still in there with Penguin.” He glanced at the other gang member. “Why?”

“Somebody said they saw Batman poking around the area. Go check it out.”

“But we got orders to stay put.”

He frowned. “Orders ain’t gonna mean shit if Batman gets in there and throws the boss back in GCPD, shithead. Get crackin’.”

The two thugs looked at one another then to the door before shrugging and splitting up and leaving the doors wide open. He turned his back and waited for the guard to pass him before he slipped back and walked up to the doors. Quickly, he pressed his ear to it and listened, hearing someone that sounded like Penguin talking on the inside. He smiled and slipped a small device, no bigger than a thumbtack inside the keyhole, pressing it as he pulled his hand away.

“Hey!” someone shouted behind him. He spun and was met with the two thugs, both with angry and suspicious looks on their faces. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled. “I was looking for the restroom.”

“That ain’t it pal,” Penguin’s thug said.

“Right, sorry,” he excused, feigning an apologetic tone. “If you can point me in the direction, I’ll be out of your hair, promise.”

Two-Face’s thug tipped his head to the opposite side of the room. “Back that way.” He took a step forward and thrust the rifle into his face. “Don’t come back around here.”

He nodded resolutely. “You got it, sir.” He quickly fled before they changed their minds and disappeared into the crowd. When he was sure they no longer had eyes on him, he took a seat at the bar and pulled out an earpiece, discreetly slipping it in; he clicked the button on the outside of the piece and the conversation from inside the door flooded his ear.

“Word is that Sentinel is in town, Two-Face. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that now, would you?”

“What? Afraid that he’ll visit you?”

“Hardly. But the rumor mill says that he’s looking for you. Don’t tell me you pulled out on a deal?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t do—

“Is this seat taken?”

The low drawl made him jump slightly and he looked to the side, seeing a man smirking down at him. His eyes momentarily darted to the door before going back to the man’s face.

“Uh, no,” he replied. “It’s open.”

He hummed and sat down. “Thanks. Can I get you a drink?”

He inconspicuously slipped the earpiece from his ear and dropped it into his pocket. “I don’t know. What’s going to impress you? Something fruity? Or something…hard?” he flirted, propping his chin on his palm.

The stranger chuckled. “How about both?”

Grinning, he looked at the bartender. “Sex In The Driveway, please. For both of us.” The server turned and started making their drinks, and he shifted his attention back to the man beside him. “Got a name, handsome?”

“Jason. What’s yours?”

“(Y/N),” he replied, taking a moment to ogle the man. And boy was he pretty. Sharp jawline, killer set of teal eyes, midnight black hair, and oddly enough, a white streak. He had to be ripped under that red shirt and leather jacket he wore, and (Y/N) really wanted to find out. Their drinks were set in front of them, and he reached over, taking a sip of his.

“What brings you to this dingy nightclub? Don’t tell me it’s the scenery.”

Jason grinned. “I don’t know, the scenery right now is pretty nice.” He took the straw into his mouth and sipped, then set the drink down. “Wanted to see if there was anyone I could take home for the night.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “Well, aren’t you just upfront about what you want.” He winked. “I like that in a man.” Twirling the straw with his finger, he asked, “You work in Gotham?”

He shrugged. “Mostly, but my job takes me where the money is.” Jason looked at him. “I bet you know what that’s like.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m originally from Central City.”

“What’s someone from a safe place like Central doing here in Gotham?”

He hummed and turned in his seat so that he was facing Jason. “Just visiting a friend.”

“A boyfriend?” Jason wondered and (Y/N) snorted.

“Nope. No boyfriend for me.” He eyed him. “Yet…what about you? Have anybody waiting at home?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re loyal? Isn’t that a charming quality.”

“What can I say? I’m a charming guy to be around.”

(Y/N) drug his foot up the side of Jason’s calf. “Charming indeed.”

Jason’s mouth opened, but (Y/N)’s attention was drawn away by the doors in the back opening, and Two-Face stepping out, followed by Penguin. His mood soured and evidently it showed on his face because he heard,

“Are you okay?” He directed his attention back to Jason who was looking at him with a cocked brow.

“Yeah,” he answered, then pulled his foot away and stood up. “But it’s getting late, and I have to get going.”

“Going back to see your friend?”

(Y/N) laughed. “Something like that.” He paused and gazed at Jason, then asked, “Gotta pen?”

He dug around in his pocket then pulled out a black sharpie and handed it over. “Here.” (Y/N) took Jason’s hand in his own and quickly wrote a set of numbers on the back.

Jason looked at it. “This your cell?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, it’s the number to my favorite Chinese joint down the street.” Grinning, he leaned over and planted a kiss on Jason’s cheek, murmuring, “I’ll be in town another couple days. Gimme a call sometime if you’d like to hangout.”

As he pulled away, he caught those teal eyes narrowed in amusement. “I definitely will, (Y/N).”

When he stepped through the exit, he sighed, knowing that he was going to have to spend hours going over the conversation in order to get a plan figured out. But hey, at least I scored a date. He thought with a grin.

***

“Have fun in lockup, Dent!” He called from the ledge as he watched the gang leader get loaded into the squad car. As they drove off, he checked his phone and smiled as the transactions followed through.

“Another night, another million,” he quipped and just as he was putting his phone away, it pinged. He looked back at it, eyes widening as he read,

So that’s what Sentinel looks like out of uniform? Black jeans and Daphne Blue? I hope you know I’m never not going to think of you when I see that combo now 😊.

(Y/N) froze and stared at his screen, millions of thoughts scrambling around his mind until he settled on, Who is this?

The little birdy you met in the lounge the other night.

He blinked and typed, Jason?

That’d be the little birdy.

How do you know who I am?

On your left, Sentinel.

He immediately looked up and his jaw went slack at the sight of Red Hood standing there, phone in his hand.

“You’re shitting me,” (Y/N) blurted out. His phone pinged.

Told you I was gonna call you.

Red Hood—Jason stowed his phone and walked up to him. “Wanna go get that Chinese you mentioned?”

(Y/N) gaped at him, then he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, why not? I could eat.”

[willow-tree-writes]

✾Arcade✾

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Your relationship to King Steve Harrington was just a game for him. Now that he’s learned to play fair, can he win you back, or lose everything?

Request: N/A

Author’s Note: I think I like making song fics a little too much. There’s just so much inspiration that comes from them! Also, I’m still more than open for requests, so feel free to message me or anything. (Can we just talk about this gif? I’m not a smoker, I don’t condone smoking, but hot damn...)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Jerk Steve, Cursing

!I don’t own this gif!

A broken heart is all that’s left I’m still fixing all the cracks

Nancy tapped your shoulder for what seemed like the tenth time in five minutes. “Sorry, one last thing.” She paused, glancing around the classroom. “You sure you still want to come over tonight? Steve’s going to be there…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

It was kind of her to ask, and her tone was soft enough as she tried to beat around the bush, but it still stung a little.

“It’s been a couple years, Nanc. I’m sure.” You weren’t sure. Not completely.

I spent all the love I’ve saved We were always a losing game

You knocked on the door, almost immediately pulled inside by Nancy.

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it!” She led you downstairs into her basement, where everyone else was.

You laughed a little. “Like I’d miss a Halloween Movie Night.”

You didn’t even make it to the last step when you felt yourself come to a halt. Everyone was here - the Party was laying on the floor, candy and popcorn all around them. Jonathan was on the couch, a spot open for Nancy beside him. And Steve was here. Just like she said he would be.

Small-town boy in a big arcade I got addicted to a losing game

“Come on, Steve! One more game!” You begged, tugging at his arm a little.

Steve sighed as you pulled him back inside the Arcade. “Y/N, this is the seventh time you’ve played it tonight. We both know you always lose.”

You laughed a little as you pulled a quarter from your pocket. “Okay, but it’s so worth it!”

He stood back with crossed arms as he watched you play the game for the eighth time now. It went like every other round - you made it so, so close to the end, only to lose. 

“See?” He uncrossed his arms and started back outside.

With a smile, you quickly followed after him. “Practice makes perfect, my King. Isn’t that how you got good at basketball?”

The playful chatter between you two was just so effortless. Ninth grade had been the best year of your life.

I saw the end before it began Still I carried, I carried, I carried on

“Tommy, give that to me.” Steve took the basketball from his ‘friends’ hands.

Tommy laughed and rolled his eyes. “What? Don’t want someone to take your b-ball title from ya?”

You were hesitant to approach the car, but you had to - Steve was giving you a ride home. “Hey, guys…”

You didn’t look at her, but you could feel the roll of Carol’s eyes. 

“Y/N…” Steve sounded a little awkward for a moment, like there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know how to. He cleared his throat a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey.”

Biting your lip, you try to ignore the fact Tommy and Carol were ignoring you. “So, my mom isn’t going to be home in time, so we’ll probably have to look after Jenna for a couple of hours.”

The awkwardness in Steve’s stance seemed to upgrade. 

He opened his mouth to say something but Tommy put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Have fun with that kid-killing duty.” He said to you before looking at Steve. “That party starts in about an hour, and this girl needs to change. Let’s get a move on.”

Tommy walked around and got into the passenger's seat of Steve’s car and Carol got in the back.

“Sorry, Y/N, but I got to go.” With his key in hand, Steve moved up and kissed you quickly on the cheek. 

Forcing a smile, you shake your head a little. “It’s fine, Steve. Have fun.”

He smiled back, thanking you before getting into his car.

You stepped back and watched as Steve pulled out of the parking. Pulled away from you.

You let the smile drop to a frown as you started your walk home. Alone.

All I know, all I know Loving you is a losing game

“I love you, Steve-” The phone hung up before you could finish what you were going to say. Before he could say anything back.

“I love you-” The front door closed before you could finish what you were going to say. Before he could say anything back.

“I love-” The car door closed before you could finish what you were going to say. Before he could say anything back.

“I-” He walked away before you could finish what you were going to say. Before he could say anything back.

Summer had started a month ago, and Steve didn’t make one effort to hang out with you. He didn’t even call you.

You knew exactly why that was - he was hoping that if he ignored you enough, you’d get the hint and not try to get close to him. He was hoping he didn’t have to break up with you face to face.

But you chose to block away that knowledge. He was still Steve, right? Under all that high school fame, he was still Steve Harrington, your boyfriend…

That’s what you thought as you knocked on the front door of the house you visited so many times. That house that was currently full of people and booming with music. A house you hadn’t been invited to in a while.

Steve opened the door with a smile on his face a beer in hand. He had just finished laughing at what someone told him as he made it through the crowd.

His face and drink fell when his eyes landed on you. “Y/N…”

“We need to talk.” This was the first time in a while you felt like you could solidly say something.

He nodded a little and walked out of his house, closing the door behind him.

You wanted to ease into it. To ask him how he’s been. Ask if he’s been actually, genuinely having fun.

But pleasantries go out the window when you’re in front of the person who’s been chipping away at your heart. “Are we breaking up?”

There might have been no emotion in your voice, but you had to stop yourself from breaking down at even the thought of asking.

He sighed and you knew the answer. “Y/N, this just isn’t working for me anymore.”

“It would have been nice to be told that instead of figuring it out myself.” You couldn’t discern the tone of your own voice. You wanted to cry, but you wanted to slap him across the face with your words.

“Y/N, don’t be like that.” He reached out to grab your arm.

But you pulled away as fast as you could. “Have fun with your new life, King Steve.”

You don’t listen to him saying your name as you turn on your heels and walk down the driveway to go home.

I don’t need you games, game over

You tried to pretend as if you didn’t see him. Hell, you wanted to pretend he didn’t even exist. But that was asking too much.

Nancy handed you a bag of candy her mom put together and you sat down on the floor with the Party.

You opened it up as you sense Dustin peak over your shoulder. “You can have my nougat if you get your cat to stop chewing my socks whenever I babysit.”

“Deal!” Dustin spoke and grabbed the candy before you could even finish.

You laughed and shook your head. You could have sworn you saw Steve smile out of the corner of your eye.

Get me of this rollercoaster

“Y/N, wait!” Steve rushed out behind you as you started down the Wheeler’s driveway.

You closed your eyes and sighed. You had succeeded with ignoring him for the whole night. Now, when you were taking your victory home, he had to ruin it.

You stopped walking, but didn’t say anything or turn around.

You heard him jog up to you, stopping a couple of feet away. “Can we talk? I feel like you’ve been ignoring me all evening.”

“That’s because I have been…” You shrug a little.

It was silent, and you could tell Steve was trying to figure out how to respond to that.

You sigh again and turn around, looking at Steve for the first time. He had definitely grown since ninth grade. 

“I don’t want to hear some bullshit about you being sorry.” You say, catching him off guard. “You made your priorities clear enough I’d say.”

Steve stepped forward towards you, reaching to grab your arm. You take a step back, shaking off a flashback.

“I was a dick, I know.”

“I don’t care if you’ve changed.”

“But I have, and I want to explain-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” You snap. Every emotion you pushed down for years flashed in your eyes, making Steve stare.

You bite your lip, crossing your arms. “All I know, all I care to know, is that loving you is a losing game.”

All I know, all I know Loving you Is a losing Game

---- ----

Tag List -  @cheshirecat107 ♛ @killj0y2019 ♛ @Ashleyleblancx ♛ @andrewdrea99 ♛

[triplexdoublex]

That’s My Baby

Pairings: Mod Sun x Reader

Warnings/tags: Pegging, use of a strap-on

A/N: This takes place in the same universe as my other Mod fics but it can still be read as a stand alone.

“Hey, you’re home!” You greeted Mod at the door. “I was starting to get worried, you usually text if you're gonna be home late from the studio.” 

“Sorry, I got a little distracted,” he motioned to the pink store bag in his hand.

“Oooh is that for me!?” You questioned excitedly, retrieving the bag from his grasp.

“Uhhh… yeah, I mean technically —“ he winced as you opened it, uncertain of how you would react. “I know we had talked about spicing things up and I-I just happen to pass that new sex shop they just opened on the way home, so I stopped in , and - and umm, yeah I thought I might be into trying... that” he spoke quickly, with both hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans, awaiting your response.

“Oh..” you gasped in shock as you pulled the apparatus from the bag. “A strap-on? Y-you want me to —“

“Sorry—” he began, with his head hung low. “I-if you’re not into it we can just—“

“Hey, hey, look at me,” you placed it back in the bag and stepped closer raising his chin with your fingertips. “You just caught me off guard that’s all. I’d be honored.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” His face lit up. 

“Yeah,” you pulled him in for a kiss. “C’mon,” you took his hand in yours, the bag in the other and walked him towards the bedroom. 

“Now?” He questioned, in surprise.

“Mmm, hmm” you hummed in confirmation , tugging him through the bedroom door.

“Damn, you spoil me.”

“You know it, baby.” You smirked before pushing him down on the bed, with a hand to his chest. You placed the bag at the foot of the bed for the time being as Mod rid himself of his shirt. You crawled over his sprawled out body on the bed and began kissing his neck. 

“God, I fucking love you!” He spoke with a hint of soft laugher to his voice. “I shoulda known you’d be cool with this.”

“Of course, anything for you, baby,” you began kissing him lower, and lower, trailing your lips and tongue over the permanent artistry that adorned his flesh until they disappeared below the denim horizon of his jeans. He lifted his hips as you unbuttoned his pants, aiding in their swift removal; his boxers stripped away with them. You took him in your hand and slowly pumped him while you lowered your mouth to the tip with a teasing, single swipe of your tongue. 

“Always such a tease!” He remarked with an impatient whine looking down at you.

“Can’t help myself, love watching you get all flustered and needy,” you continued to taunt him, holding him motionless in your palm as you licked around the base and mouthed his balls. His eyes were locked onto yours, watching you work. His hands were gripping at the sheets with eager frustration, his cheeks rosy and flushed.

“Please!” He begged as he lifted his hips from the bed with desperate need, trying to fuck into your fist. Eventually after teasing him a little bit longer you obliged and took him fully into your mouth; a satisfied hum falling from his lips. “Finally!!” he cried out gently threading his fingers into your hair, his hand bobbing along for the ride as you worked your mouth up and down his length, taking him in as deep as you possibly could and pumping what you couldn’t. You kept at until you felt his hand pushing at your shoulder; a breathy “stop, stop” bringing you to a halt. “Didn’t wanna cum yet,” he huffed “Wanna wait until —“ his eyes finished his sentence, drifting to the pink bag at the end of the bed. You got up off the bed and quickly retrieved the bag, as to not keep him waiting. 

“Oh good, you bought lube too” you noticed when taking out the strap-on. “Here,” you tossed it to him.

“I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself to the bathroom to put on the device, saving you both the awkward embarrassment of trying to figure out how to put it on.

Inside the bathroom you stripped off your clothes and struggled to find the right orientation of the contraption, turning it around as you tried to pinpoint which of the multiple adjustable loops were meant to wrap around your thighs and which were meant  to encompass your hips. Once you got it figured out you stepped into it, and pulled it up, adjusting the straps to fit you snuggly.

“Sorry that took so long,” you said as you stepped back into the bedroom. “I swear you need a degree in engineering to put this thing on,” you laughed. “Ohh— getting started without me I see,” you took notice of Mod prepping himself on the bed; two lubed slicked fingers working him open. “Ready for me yet?” You asked crawling onto the bed and settling between his thighs.

“I-I think so” he slid his fingers out.

“How do you wanna do this?” You questioned. 

“Just like this,” he answered. “Wanna face you.”

 You cracked open the bottle of lube and drizzled it over the pink, phallic shaped, object strapped to your pelvis and used your hand to make sure it was fully coated before bringing the tip to the slicked pucker between his cheeks.

 You were met with resistance at first, barely able to inch your way inside “Try not to tense up or it’s gonna hurt more. Just relax,” you coached him, rubbing soft circles with the thumb of your free hand on his hip. It took a few moments but eventually Mod relaxed enough and the head of the toy popped in, being swallowed by the tight ring of muscle. 

“Mmm, fuck!” Mod groaned, squeezing his eyes tight.

“That’s the worst part I promise,” You stayed as still as you possibly could. “I’m gonna give you some time to adjust, let me know when you’re ready.”

“You’re right it’s not so bad now, think I’m good,” he said after a few minutes. “You seem to know what you’re doing, have you done this before?” He questioned as you began slowly rolling your hips.

“No, but do think I’ve never been on the receiving end of anal before? Did you forget I used to date Colson?” You laughed.

“Ah, Touché” he laughed as well. “Speaking of Colson, please don’t tell him or the guys about this.”

“If that’s what you want baby, I can respect that, but I want you to know that this doesn’t make you any less of a man or whatever it is you're worried about?” You reassured him, gripping his waist with both hands as you gently thrusted.

“Mmhhmm uh, I-I know that, but I’m not sure the boys would agree,” he answered through strained moans.

“Pleasure is pleasure, if whoever the hell made humans didn’t want men to get fucked up the ass then perhaps they shouldn’t have put the male G-spot there,” you said in all seriousness.

“That’s a good point,” he laughed looking up at you with his crystal blue-green eyes. “This is why I love you,” he cupped your face, with a smile on his, and connected your lips.  You swallowed down his moans one after the other as you slowly increased your sped and depth. “Mmmmm mhhmmmmmn,” he broke the kiss with a long and throaty moan when you brushed against his prostate. “Aw yeah, do that- do that again!” He exclaimed breathily, gripping your backside, pulling you in deeper.

“Yeah, that’s my baby, that’s my baby. Let me hear you,” you praised and encouraged him. Typically Mod wasn’t one to be openly vocal, you knew he had the potential but he usually chose to hold back for whatever reason, but there was no stopping him now. 

“Uhhh , baby, fuck! This feel so ah- amazinggg!” He whined, covering his face with his hand.

“No, lemme see you,” you pushed his hand away and cradled his face. “Look at me. You close?” You questioned. Mod nodded. “Wanna watch you cum for me.” You reached your hand down between your two bodies and began stroking him to assist with his release. He tried his best to keep eye contact; his eyes fluttering closed in sync with the ebb and flow of your thrusts. Suddenly, you felt him twitch in your hand. “You gonna—“

“Yes,yes —- oh fuck! UhhMmmm,” His eyes rolled back and his shaft pulsed as he came, emptying on his stomach. You gave him a few minutes to come down from his high.

“Might sting a little” you warned, before you slowly pulled out, producing a brief whimper from Mod. “Stay right there,” you said. “I’ll be back with something to clean you up,” You once again excused yourself to the bathroom where you rid yourself of the contraption and wet a face cloth with warm water before returning to the bedroom. “You did so good,” you praised him as you wiped the cum and lube from his body.

“ I seriously can’t thank you enough, that was absolutely incredible,” he smiled at you fondly as you finished cleaning him up.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smiled back. “You might want to take it easily for the rest of the weekend, you’re probably gonna be a little sore.”

“Oooooh yeah, good idea,” he groaned as he sat up. Just then his phone went off. It was a text:

Colson: 11am tomorrow don’t forget!

“Oh fuck! I forgot I promised Colson I would help him move his shit into Megan’s place tomorrow.” 

“Can you cancel?” 

“No, I already smoked all the free weed that he gave me in advance in exchange for helping him.” He laughed 

“Yup sounds like something you would do!” You giggled “I’ll go with you tomorrow to help.”

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

“Aye, perfect timing!” Colson shouted as you and Mod pulled into the driveway. “Just about ready to move my dresser out into the truck. Mind giving me a hand, while the boys take a break? Rook, Slim and Baze have  been helping since eight am but I know that’s early as fuck for you and you need your beauty sleep or whatever.” He laughed “let’s go.” 

Inside both boys lifted one end of Colson’s dresser and removed it from his room, and headed down the stairs with it. Mod was moving slower than usual, feeling a little sore as to be expected. 

“Aye, Mod you think you can walk a little faster here, my fuckin’ arms are getting tired.” 

“I’m walkin’ as fast as I can, Kells. You want help or not?”

“Walkin’ like you got a dick up your ass is more like it,” Colson taunted in friendly banter. “I’m the one walking backwards down a staircase here bro.”

“Kells, just shut the fuck up.” Mod laughed as they continued down the stairs.  He could feel himself beginning to blush and hoped he could just play off his pink hued cheeks as exertion, before Colson started asking more questions.

“Yo, Y/N!” Colson yelled over to you as you were loading some of the smaller boxes. “What the hell did you do to my boy last night? He joked. “Man can hardly walk. Did you finally break him out of his little Vanilla shell and give his thighs a workout making him fuck you good and hard last night or some shit?” Colson truly had no filter at times.

You looked at Mod with a smirk before answering. “Yeah, something like that.”

[jojoreadwhat]

lie  / h.s. x fem!reader • smut

where y/n has had enough of their “arrangement” and harry is unsure about his feelings.

words; 4k, this isn’t proofread and I’m sorry

warning; friends with benefits theme. angst, strong language, sexual content including handjob, oral(f!receiving) fingering, edging, penetrative sex. under final cut. then will be concluding with lots of fluff and aftercare. reader is advised

I listened to this

+

it was going on 3am and Harry was finally giving up on the idea of sleep.

he thought he would have fallen asleep by now after the day he had previously. jam packed with photoshoots, interviews, some time at the studio with Mitch and then ended the night with a party. it was seeming like the liquor he downed earlier on, coursing through his veins wasn’t ready to slow anytime soon yet. and he was over it. tossing and turning in his king sized bed since midnight. he sighed roughly to himself the moment his back met the mattress, lying there still now. defeated and annoyed, looking up at the clear, white ceiling above him. with his mind speckled in thought, the real reason why he wasn’t in a heavy slumber right now.

tonight wasn’t the first one without a good night of sleep. this was night five now. with you on his mind and not next to him. and it wasn’t because you miles apart from each other, on different sides of the earth no. you on his mind wasn’t something new or missing you either. but it was different this time around. when a few days ago, that all changed. when he let you walk out that door, because of him.

harry hasn’t seen you or heard from you for nearly a week now. since you stormed out of this room. he remembers the moment, so vividly. it hasnt left his brain, instead embedded itself to remind him of how much of an asshole he truly is. your naked frame scurrying around his room, picking up all your clothes scattered from the events that took place shortly before. with anger, embarrassment, the sadness that you contained by biting your bottom lip. after spilling your heart out to him, that you loved him. breaking the first rule to your arrangement.

you and harry had a very complicated friendship in the last eight months. at first it wasn’t, it was a very traditional one. both of you met at a mutual friends party a year earlier, hitting it off from the start and the rest became history. you two were inseparable, doing everything, literally, together. you were his date to most of his events, went on trips and getaways together, did mundane things like grocery shopping, which was always a experience. you both hung out all the time. smoking together most nights and playing records, while laying on his living room floor. talking about everything to anything. harry even gave you a key and your own spot in his dresser. you two were a dream team, the friendship that many aspired to have. the one that everyone was waiting to watch bloom into something more.

things changed out of the blue one night. you had come over, distraught over a guy that you were seeing for two months who wasn’t ready for anything to go further. Harry and you did the next best thing, passing a blunt back and forth among each other. lying on his living room floor, listening to fleetwood mac faintly in the background. talking over the worthless two months, the piece of shit of a guy Jared was and how finding love in this day and age just didn’t make sense. next thing you knew, Harry’s waist was wrapped in your legs, his weight heavy enough on you as he kissed you hard and long. your fingers twisted in his little dark brown curls at the back of his neck as pulled him back down to you. neither of you knew how it started, what made the sudden change but you never looked back.

this friends with benefits thing went on for eight months, filling in some void that you both were missing. it was great, really great. you had each other whenever you wanted. whatever how long you wanted. nobody knew about it as far as you know. you were careful, even when the need was necessary at strange times or at places other than both your beds. there was one time that harry flew you out to italy for a weekend for nothing but that (and you as a plus one at gucci) it was a weekend that neither of you would admit, still gave you both chills looking back. all around your arrangement worked, it wasn’t a disaster like some of the stories or movies told. it was perfect in every way.

until now. where you both were going through the longest drought to date and feelings were involved.

for harry, the night that you admitted how you felt for him after all this time. it wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same as you, he just wasn’t sure that he did. he needed you more than he realized, more then he wanted to believe. for a while now. he has been denying the change for so long that when he was faced with the reciprocation, he froze and put his guard up. but in all reality, he has been in love with you since the beginning of time.

you were his girl, his person. you knew him in and out, you didn’t care about his status or money. you treated him as harry. your best friend. his number one cheerleader. the hug he needed after a rough day. the laugh he wanted hear before he closed his eyes and when he woke up. the child like heart of yours as you sat in the cart, sneaking candy in the cashier line. the dance partner he needed in the early morning in the middle of the kitchen. his plus one that he was excited to have on red carpet with his arm around. the lips he wanted to kiss, all the time and not just in the moment. so soft and sweet against his. he wanted, needed everything before and after the arrangement. he needed you and he should’ve told you before letting you leave.

in a rush, harry threw his gray duvet off his shirtless himself, sitting up and standing out of his bed. not caring about his hair or the sleep deprivation evident on his face. he threw on his black hoodie, searching for his cream vans and heading down the hall to grab his keys to his Mercedes and out to the driveway he went. on his way to you.

——————————————————————————

not finding the ability to sleep. you were laying on your couch, lights off with only the blue light reflection off the tv screen while aimlessly watching a movie you didn’t catch the title to. this was becoming a ritual for the last few nights. awake past your usual time, feeling it hit hard in the morning. drinking the sleep you missed prior in a paper cup. overwhelmed with the same thoughts from morning to night. you huffed, having enough of it. hastily flicking off the tv by the remote before turning over on the couch, clutching the yellow throw to yourself and closing your eyes tight.

after no calls or texts, a clear indication that it was over. you were feeling like a fool on how much you allowed this to get to you. you shouldn’t be feeling this sad. you finally got your answer. you shouldn’t be missing him. you should be pissed off. mad. you should be going out with your friends and trying to find someone to forget the dreadful blissful months you endured. but you’re not. because you miss him. because you love him. everything little thing about him and he doesn’t feel the same. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life. so confused by everything.

none of it made sense. his response beat the shit out of you. you werent expecting him to love you back but at the same time, you knew there had to be something there. the way things were even when you weren’t tangled up in each other limbs, fucking like rabbits. harry gave you so much confidence that he was feeling the same way about you like you did for him. holding your hand in public, kissing in the most exposed places, never denying that you weren’t his girl when asked at events. instead, his grip on your waist would tighten. he would smile at you, kissing the top of your head. making sure you were okay at all times, keeping his focus on you no matter the situation. when you were alone, he would declare you as his all the time. every fiber of your skin he touched “all mine.” he would say, so low to hear but for your ears only. you wanted it all back. even if it was all for fun and games.

hypothetically kicking yourself for being so brave. for placing your heart on your sleeve for it only to be held by cheap thread. for wanting it back, for wanting to continue the charades because it’s better than nothing at all. you didn’t deserve that. you needed better. someone willing to give you that in reality and not only behind closed doors. someone who is lucky to have you at all times and not when its for a fixing.

you sighed to yourself, rolling back over to glance at your phone on the coffee table. bright in the darkened room, squinting to see, it read now quarter to 4am and you rolled your eyes. done with the fiddle faddle with your thoughts, you needed sleep and you were over allowing this situation to consume you further. rising from the couch, you wrapped the throw over your shoulders to protect you from the chill from here to your bedroom. looking around to make sure all was good before continuing on.

approaching the foyer of where your staircase and living room entrance met. you were startled by hard, repetitive knocks to your front door. you froze where you stood. who could be here at this hour? You thought to yourself. you quietly reached for a vase on a nearby table. creeping closer to the door.

the knock happened again before stopping once more. “love, y/n.” you heard the raspy, tired voice from the other side of the door. it was Harry. “it’me, please open up.”

you bit your lip, rolling your eyes. fuck, you muttered to yourself before placing the vase back down. unlocking the door and flinging it open gently. there he stood in front of you. in your favorite attire, all casual in just a hoodie and joggers that hugged his bottom half just right. his chestnut hair, a mess and disheveled, golden at the top from the porch light above him. scruff peppered around his mouth and along his jaw. his green eyes like daggers on you as he watched you search him, using the time to figure to say hey right. the stare made you feel a bit beside yourself, pulling the throw closer to yourself and over your flimsy pink cami paired with gray sweats. you cleared your throat, looking at the street and breaking the silent stare.

“I hope your not here to get something from me.” you stated, then. looking anywhere but at him like you wanted. taking everything you to keep yourself together as you placed between wanting to yell at him and tell him to never see you again and wanting to pull him in to make up for the lost time. “ha, no.” harry shook his head at your comment. raising his hand to his hair, raking his fingers through it, nervously. “I came m’ere to talk.” he said, “if that’s alright?”

you both stood there for a moment before opening the door further slowly. giving him room to come right in. his cologne of vanilla and sandalwood hitting the brim of your nose the second he slipped by you. something you missed, being caught up in it. you pressed your back against the door, hearing it shut behind yourself as you followed after harry to the living room where he made himself at home. he stood poised next to your gray linen couch, waiting to see you approach the room before he took a seat on it. patting the spot next to him. overwhelmed by the time, by his presence and all the emotions bouncing around like a pin ball machine in your mind and body. you treading carefully around your coffee table, joining him shortly after and becoming leveled with his green orbs.

it was quiet for the first few minutes, and not the comfortable kind that you’d fall into from time to time. watching Harry’s rosy plump lips open and close, seeing his hand rise to them, his index and thumb pinching his bottom lip, struggling with what to say first. tongue tied by the fact that you let him in in the first place. he wasn’t prepared to not be given a fight. he sighed, roughly. “I’ve missed you so much.” he began, taking you by surprise and lacing his fingers with yours.

you shook your head, leaving his grasp before standing up from the couch. “please don’t lie to me, harry.” stopping whatever his plan was firsthand. “I’m not falling into this.. trap. I told you how I felt and that’s that. don’t take it for granted.” harry stood up to meet you, wanting to get closer, pull you closer to him but he left the space for you.

“M’not lying. I missed you.” going on, “I came ‘ere to talk. to tell ya I’m sorry. that I regret the moment that ya walked out the door.” he finished, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as he spoke. you furrowed your brows, the confusion rising again. “why are you sorry? you don’t feel the same and I just have to deal with that. that’s nothing to be–” harry grew closer at the last bit of your speech. cutting in. “but it wasn’t the truth. I do feel the same and I let you leave thinking I didn’t. that’s what I’m sorry about.”

you were stuck. shocked to say the least. you couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth, but your inner self wasn’t going to let it sink in so easily. “please don’t do this. harry, if you lying to me. I will never forgive you. so please stop.” feeling your eyes becoming glassy as tears threatened the rim. harry shook his head, his hands meeting at the top of your shoulders as he looked you in the eyes. “I won’t stop because I’m not lying.” feeling his hands running down your arms, slow to stop and grab your hands in his. “I love you, y/n. I fucking love you.” you looked up at him at rise in volume at his last words. his eyes searching your face and yours doing just the same. trying to find any flake that this wasn’t real, that what he just said was only in your mind and wasn’t just said into the air. you bit at your now quivering bottom lip, trying to keep yourself together.

“if you’re messing with me, H. I swear to god” needing another reassurance, harry flashed his cheeky infamous smile at the use of his nickname from you. feeling normalcy, before his large, soft hands left yours to scoop your face. tilting it up to his. “I mean it. with everything I have, all I own. I mean it.” he said, “I love you, I always have and will.” his words silver off his lips. you couldn’t explain the feeling that rouse in you but you felt tears, happy ones, beginning to make way down your cheeks. “I love you too.” you muttered softly to harry, him still smiling toothlessly now as his thumbs collected the droplets. before leaning down and capturing your lips with his.

the moment they met, your body responded immediately. rising in heat from head to toe. melting into harry as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. one hand still caressing your cheek, while the other dug tightly at your waist. the long days of not being wrapped up, sharing sweet pecks or laughs amongst one another was felt right now. the kiss starting out so sweet and tender, feeling the smiles and hearts combust in happiness. soon were taken over by neediness, lust and desire from the lost time. his tongue running along your bottom lip, asking for entry to deepen the kiss. never feeling something so powerful shared between the two of you. never pulling away long enough to catch breath, harry directed you both towards the couch. his hands clasping are your bum, silently telling you to jump into his arms before settling you both down with him beneath you, straddling his lap.

you let out a breathy moan when his lips met the spot connecting your jaw and neck. peppering kisses along your jawline as your fingers got lost in his thick curls. feeling him smiling against you with every little sound only he could get out of you, marking what belonged to him. he pulled away slightly, having you chase his lips and cheeks and leaving him in a fit of chuckles. understanding the neediness you were trying to release, you could feel his against the inside of your thigh. he placed his hands back on your face, pulling you down to kiss you again, before backing away once more and resting his forehead to yours. “do you want to go upstairs?” you asked, softly. hands flattening at the fabric on his broad chest, straightening his shirt. meeting his gaze, harry smiled slightly, cupping your cheek and bringing your lips to his again. “I’d love to.” his warm, minty breath grazing your mouth. you smiled, then.  before rising off of harry. your feet touching the chill of hardwood floor, standing between his legs before reaching out for him to grab a hold of your hand. allowing you to direct him, hand in hand, up the stairs and to your bedroom.

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

the moment harry and you entered the bedroom. he beaconed you to the bed, immediately bringing you down with him. leaving where you left off moments ago, on harry’s lap, hands in his hair. his green eyes, darkened in lust, smirking up at you before his lips met yours in a slow, sweet embrace. 

“I want to take my time with you tonight.” he spoke, breathlessly. Looking up at you, pecking your nose. running his thumbs under eyes, noticing the lack of sleep evident likewise, then along your cheeks and to your bottom lip. “Are you up for that, love?” He asked, like the gentleman he is. “Hm?” eyes on you, going in and kissing your collarbone. leaving you to bite back a cross between a whimper and giggle, “please.” you cried.

”good.” he muttered, softly. smirking and placing both of his hands on you bum, squeezing light before rolling you over so quickly you couldn't register what was happening until you were lying flat on your back, him hovering you now and his teeth were nipping at you ear. you squealed and wiggled beneath his heavy, toned body, and his mouth left kisses on your neck, your collar bone, back to your lips again. one of his tattooed arms, rested next your head, steadying himself while the other roamed your body. savoring any exposed skin of yours on his fingertips. your body following the feeling of his hands as they ran along it, up and down your waist, to your hip. moaning lightly into one of the grazes of your lips, harry's own curling up at the sides.

with his hands clasping your waist and under your shirt. you began to feel the fabric rise up. harry broke his lips away from your neck, rolling the shirt up and over your head. throwing it to the floor. the chill of the room now hitting your topless body, your nipples hardening more to the new adjustment. your hands falling into harry’s hair again as he lowered himself along your body. kissing the skin over your breasts. looking up at you, watching you.  harry took one of your harden nipples into his mouth, the other between his fingers of his hand. tracing X's and O's over and around. him kissing, licking, sucking, biting at every bit of your bare skin. earning him moans and whimpers from you, continuing to watch you lose yourself. feeling privileged to see this sight of you, only him. only he could get this arouse out of you. your head rested on the pillow, a whimpering mess from only his mouth. giving him all the rights to ravage your body. 

the anticipation was getting the best of you. you wanted him now, you were already over with his toying around. “harry, please.” you whimpered, “p-please do something.” harry looked up, smirking at you, devilishly before he climbed back up. your legs wrapped around his middle, pushing him closer to you. “eager aren’t we?” he retorted. you smiled into a moan when you felt his erected shaft underneath his joggers, graze your throbbing clit, covered in your drenched panties. you weren’t the only one.

harry tilted your face up towards his, pecking your lips sweetly and pulling away only centimetres. “stay patient, love.” he muttered, then. before going back down your body again. trickling kisses above the waistband of your sweats. feeling his long, slender fingers slid under the band, pulling the pants down agonizingly slow before he was faced with your panties now. 

he groaned at the sight of the wet spot on them, causing you to gasp when he ran three fingers over your clothed heat. “you’re so wet.” he swallowed, meeting his green eyes with yours, darkened and glazed over in lust and desire. “and its all for me.” not wasting another second before pulling the fabric down off you and you hissing at the sharp chill grace your cunt. 

harry continued to tease, starting from your knee and aligning kisses on your inner thighs. feeling his breath graze where you wanted his mouth the most. you bucked your hips once at him, immediately his hands meeting them “ah ah.” he spoke, you looked down at him, him raising a brow and his green eyes flashing up at you. silently telling you to “be patient.” again. leaving you irritated as your head forcefully met the pillow. but the little tantrum working in your favor when you felt his lips kiss your mound, following a stride of his tongue against your swollen clit. like an electric shock to your body. he worked you slow and hard, careful, taking his time like this was going to be the last. building you up to the top, then slowing down to do it all over again. your hands wrapped up in his curls, bringing him as close as you could. directing him where you wanted him as you rotated your hips until he had enough, holding your lower half down, your legs on his shoulders and your hands in his. as he devoured you like a delicacy. and having you come on his tongue. twice.

once he was done tasting you, so fucked out and spaced, you hadn’t noticed him standing at the end of your bed. undressing himself until he was left in his briefs, crawling back over you, his legs parting yours at the knees as his large hand cupped your cheek, bringing your lips to his. nudging his nose with yours, he pecked your cheek, “are you still with me, love?” he asked, noticing how you were still trying to get to your whereabouts. harry’s fingers of his other hand were drawing little circles to your hip, to the top of your heat. you nodded slow, giving him the go to continue further when you felt his finger slip through your soaked folds, before entering you. you moaned at the feeling, harry now resting his forehead to yours as his fingers moved in and out of you at a generous pace. one of your hands, met harry’s face gently. while your free one went searching passed his tented briefs, before embracing his hard, thicken shaft in your hand. causing harry’s breath to hitch at the contact. collecting the pre-cum at the top of his swollen tip, lubing him up and running your hand tightly around his cock, stroking him. his free hand holding your face close to his, both swallowing each other’s moans in between heated kisses as you got each other off.

harry could feel you tightening around his fingers, growing closer to the edge. he pulled his fingers away from you and backed away from your touch. you shuttered in surprise, pouting from the loss of contact. looking up at him, searching for an explanation for only to be left watering in your mouth from the view of harry the two fingers that were occupied and covered by your juices, into his mouth. tasting you. in a need, you leaned up to meet harry halfway, pulling him into another countless kiss. your hand travelling to his shaft that was resting stiff against his abdomen when his hand met it mid stream, tangling his fingers with yours.

“no love, I need you now.” he commanded, gently pushing you back down. laying on top of you, feeling his cock resting against you. the same hand still wrapped in yours, now next to your head. while the other placed your thigh around him, before wrapping his hand around his shaft, positioning himself perfectly aligned with your cunt. feeling the tip. his head falling into the nook of your neck, his curls tickling your skin, lips warm against your neck and shoulder as he slipped into you, slow.

you gasped at him expanding your walls, being cautious, taking his time as he waited for you adjust to him. muttering sweet nothings, kissing you all over the place before he heard the green light from you. starting a nice rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and thrusting right back in. his hands all over you, his mouth connected to any bit of your skin that he could taste. his moans and grunts grazing hot at your ear were enough to have you orgasm right then and there for him. but any moment that you felt like you were growing closer, harry would slow down. lazily pounding into you, muttering affirmations. “you’re so beautiful.” to “you feel so good, love.”

your new favorite though almost was barely audible when he began to pick up the pace, colliding with the friction of your skin meeting. kissing you deeply, “I love you.” he said, softly but sincere. your eyes opening from focusing on the repetition to his words, “say it again.” you said looking at him with half lidded eyes, your glistening skin in a sheen of sweat. harry smirked big before you watched his mouth almost ‘o’

“I love you, y/n.” he said again. leaving you to moan at the sound of it, leaning up slightly, chasing his lips with yours. “I love you too” you spoke against his mouth, wrapping your hands around his back. soon beginning to dig when you felt yourself growing close.

harry began to feel you clenching around him. “are you close, baby?” he muttered. immursed in the how beautifully your bodies moved today, like they were made for this. you met his gaze again, “y-yes” you stuttered in between a moan, he then peck your lips, grabbing your hands like daggers from his back into his large hands, setting them above your head. beginning to speed up, driving to home base. thrusting into you erratically, both your breathy moans and sounds echoing against the walls of the room. his head falling to meet his mouth to your ear, “come with me, come with me, come with me” he repeated.

and before you could even think of attempting to hold back. without a warning, you cried out in absolute pleasure as your orgasm ripples through you. your back arching, collecting every bit. harry’s hands clasping to meet your middle as he senselessly pounded into you when his hips snapped back, meeting his own euphoria and he released warm and heavy into you. collapsing limply onto your body, his weight heavy and him completely exhausted, but in a unrelaxed, happy state. in a haze from what just took place seconds ago.

you both lied there, motionless. breathless with a dry throat, panting and clammy. you lazily ran your fingers through harry’s hair where his head lied, resting on your chest between your breasts. he slowly looked up at you. his green eyes soft now, his smile, toothlessly and dreamy that you felt butterflies sworm. “you alright, love?” he whispered, you smiled, nodding to answer. your hand, caressing his milky, glistening cheek. leaving you in a fit of giggles, when he turned his mouth in the direction of your palm. kissing it before lazily climbing up you and placing his hands on your cheeks. just staring at each other for a moment, gazing, taking each other in before he smile, kissing your cheek and bringing his attention back to you.

“did I tell you that I love you?” he smiled, feeling heat rise to your cheek. biting your lip, you shrugged. “Mmm, maybe once or twice?” you said, then. wrapping your arms around his neck. harry flashed a bright smile, leaning closer to your lips with his. “well i’ve got all night to tell you more.” he said, before crashing his lips on yours.

[jeonsblackgf-writes]

ONE PLUS ONE || 2 ||

✨Summary: Trials and tribulations of Vinnie and his gf

✨pairing: Vinnie Hacker x black!OC

✨genre: agnst, just a little bit tho, but it’s fluff at the end

✨word count: 1.6k

I really like this so I may make it into a little mini series.

_________________________________________🖊

Rhey's heart dropped as she started at Vinnie with wide eyes. He only sighed and ran his hand through this curly hair. Those words that came out of his mouth put her in a bad position, and she didn't know how to react to it. She was scared.

Vinnie was her entire life and the thought of him leaving made her feel some type of way. Anytime she left the country or state to tour, he was always with her. He never missed one tour. It's hard to be away from your significant other for a certain amount of time if you were always around them before. It's like a fish without having water, she couldn't survive. With her being a huge star like Billie and Ariana Grande, it was hard to find a steady foundation in her life when Vinnie wasn't around her.

".....Are you gonna accept it?" She asked quietly after a moment of silence, fiddling with her fingers, something she did when she got sad or anxious. Vinnie shrugged his shoulders.

"If I accept the offer...I have to move. I'm gonna accept it. This is huge for me,"

Rhey's heart stopped, "Are you fucking kidding me Vincent? You weren't gonna take it up with me first?"

"Why would I? I can make decisions like this on my own!"

"Vinnie, I don't want to sound selfish, but your life is here, you can't just leave. I mean what does that mean for us if you end up leaving?" She asked, getting right to the point.

Vinnie knew she was right but it still hurt that she made it seem like she wasn't going to support him during his decision making.

"What do you mean I can't leave? Your my girlfriend not my mom, I expect you to at least be happy for me, but you can't even do that! I made sacrifices for you, do the same for me for once!" He argued, raising his voice in the process. 

"What sacrifices have you made for me other than the fact that you moved away from you and your friends old house which is 30 minutes away, to this fucking villa that WE BOTH picked out together! Please let me the fuck know!"

"All those times I've went on tour with you and I had everyone here with the United fucking States! That's one sacrifice! When you were sick so I had to cancel doing a video with James! That's two!"

"NOBODY TOLD YOU TO FUCKING COME WITH ME! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ASKED! AND LETS NOT FORGET THAT I TOLD YOU NOT TO CANCEL AND YOU DID ANYWAY! THOSE WERE SACRIFICES YOU TOOK!" She screaming, pointing her acryliced index finger at him. He huffed and ran a hand through his hair.

"What's the point of us being together if you aren't gonna compromise. Addison sacrifices for Bryce all the time." He tried explaining, but all it did was make her even more confused.

"Please do not bring up that racist bitch in my household. I'm fine with all of your friends girlfriends EXCEPT her and Dixie and besides, she has the brain capacity of a fucking roach of course she's gonna compromise with him! You joined the Hype House and your mouth been getting real fucking reckless Vincent."

"Well...what are we gonna do then?" He asked quietly. He knew that if he left then it'd be over for him and his girlfriend and that's the last thing he wants but this was a huge thing for him.

Rhey closed her eyes as she tried to calm herself down. Everyone on her team knew how much she hated yelling, voice raising, or anything of that nature. It was in a rare occasion where she yelled or raised her voice angrily.

"I just want you to think about what you're doing. I don't have a home in Paris. Only LA, ATL, and NY. So how do you expect me to always come see you when my career still rapidly on go? How do you possibly expect this to work if you're gonna be living in Paris for the rest of your life—"

"Its not the rest of my life! God Rhey, even if it is the least you can do is be supportive!"

"Then HOW long is it? Do you know how Vogue deals work? Once you sign with the region, you can't permanently leave unless you visiting somewhere else. They need you at all times!"

Vinnie sighed, not knowing what to do. He loved Rhey immensely. She was the love of his life. They've been together for 8 years, and he didn't want all that to gown down the drain. No ever, but he was put between a rock and a hard place where he had to choose between his gf and being an actual model.

"I'm not trying to pry, I swear I'm not but I just want you to think about this. It seems like you really want to do it and if you do then that's fine. I will support you, if you don't then I will continue to support you. Doesn't matter to me, I just don't want you signing your entire life away halfway across the world away from your girlfriend and friends, but do what's best for you. Do whatever you want." She sighed, trying not to get emotional.

Before he could respond to what she said, she grabbed her phone and keys, and left the house in a hurry. He followed her outside and watched as she sped out of the driveway and down the street. Vinnie looked on life360 and saw that she was heading in the direction of the skate park that always went to when they wanted to talk and skate for hours.

He gets that relationships are never easy, and that it'll always be something that may or may not cause a break up. This situation just might make them or break them. He knew that being with your high school sweetheart after high school changes everything, but no one ever told him it was going to be this hard to the point where his heart aches and drops every time someone mentions them breaking up or even taking a break. There's a lot he can take, but to potentially not be with Rhey anymore was a sickening thought that he could erase from his brain.

"Ugh, Rhey why did you have to leave?" He mumbled to himself as he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his car keys. He got in the car and rode to the skate park, seeing her sitting under a tree. He was very surprised to see no paparazzi standing by taking photos and bombarding her.

Getting out the car, he grabbed two blunts and walked over to his girlfriend to sit down beside her. He gave her a blunt and lit it, then lit one for himself. She inhaled the smoke and blew it right back out after sucking it through her nose, dried tears on her face. Despite her high social status, he had never seen her so messed up over something like this.

"Do you wanna break up?" She asked, kind of catching him off guard. Vincent gave her a confused look

"What? God no! Baby you're the love of my life. I can't live without you! " He assured, pulling his girlfriend into his arms as he continued to smoke. It was almost 12 and it was completely dark outside.

"I can get you a deal out here. I've just gotta talk to the director and I can get you a 5 year contract. P-please don't leave me." She stated, her voice cracking at the end.

Vincent sighed, finishing off his blunt and throwing it away. He grabbed his girlfriend by both her cheeks with one hand to make her stare into his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, making him show a small smile before smashing his lips into hers.

Once they pulled away, Rhey pulled out her phone to show Vinnie something. His eyes squinted at the screen and then widened once he saw what it was.

"You didn't..." He trailed off, his eyes clouded with tears. Rhey smiled through the tears running down her face and nodded her head.

Vinnie was looking at a photo on him on his skateboard, a photo she took of him. She used a picture of him as her album cover and he didn't know whether to cry or fuck her silly. He might end up doing both.

"That's what I wanted to show you when so got home. I finished the album, this may be my most personal album yet because each and every song is about you and our relationship. Guess what my last song is called." She laughed, waiting for him to respond. When he didn't have an answer, she showed him her track list and let him scroll all the way down. When she heard a small gasp, that's when she knew he had found it.

"Vinnie....the name of the song is vinnie."

Rhey smiled, but it didn't last long because Vinnie pushed her onto the ground with kisses, invading her personal space. He put more passion into the kiss as he rubbed her sides in a soothing way before reaching under her shirt to grab both her boobs, making her gasp, letting him indulge deeper into her mouth. He finally pulled away, giving her air to breathe, only to trail kisses down her neck and collar bone, sucking and kicking every crevice that she was sensitive to, not caring that anyone could come behind the large tree and see them.

He attempted to pull one of her boobs out but she quickly stopped him, not wanting to live life on the edge TOO MUCH.

"How about we finish this at home yeah?"

"Fuck yes! Let's go!"

[writingsfromhome]

Wish you were Sober

I couldn’t get this bop out of my head so I’ve turned it into a fic...enjoy!!!!

Warnings: alcohol, drugs, swearing?

———————————————————————-

You switch the cup in your hands, eyeing Harry from across the room. You came here together but ever since the two of you walked through the front door, he’d put on his hot-shot act and hadn’t spoken to you once. You watch the brunette on his left now, laughing at whatever he’d said. His hand tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. You feel sick but you can’t stop watching. You don’t even know why you came here, this wasn’t your scene, and you knew how Harry got at parties like these. But you just wanted to be near him.

It was toxic, some small part of your brain already knew that, your addiction to Harry and the way he only wanted you when you two were alone.

“Y/N?” Your mate Sofie from English spots you in your corner, you barely hear your name with how loud the music was. “I...wow, I didn’t expect you to be here!”

“Me neither,” you laugh. “Not really my scene!”

“I can tell! You look....” she pauses, deciding not to finish her sentence. “Come on,” she grabs your arm and pulls you away from the wall that you’d made a little watching post of. “Let’s get you a little relaxed...”

The rest of her sentence is drowned out as she turns away. You catch Harry’s eye on your way out of the room but his eyes slide off of you. You try to ignore the stabbing at your heart.

“Oh shite wait,” Sof takes a detour to the open door on your right. “This hasn’t been free all night. Wait out here?”

She enters the vacant toilet and you lean back against the wallpapered hallway. You didn’t even know whose house this was, but it was nicely decorated.

“Drink! Drink!” Loud chanting echoes from the kitchen. Wooping and shouts and then: “Styles! Styles!”

You cover your face with your hands, pushing back the urge to cry. You shouldn’t have come.

You wander away from the door to put more distance between you and the chanting. A room door is tilted open, a few people sit inside. The open window lets in a stiff breeze and a shiver travels up your spine. You imagine yourself walking towards it, opening it all the way, jumping onto the roof, and looking back to see Harry following behind with the grin you adored. You imagine the two of you going back to one of yours, somwhere where the music wasn’t too loud, and just spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms.

“Y/N,” an arm grabs yours again. Sof. “I don’t think you want to go in there.”

“Why?” You turn to face her.

“Do you know whose party this is?” She shouts. You shake your head and she glances back to the crack in the door. “Nevermind, best you don’t know. Oh hey your cup’s empty, let’s fill you up first.”

“I’m really okay,” you protest but Sofie doesn’t take no for an answer. You weren’t sure why she was being such a mother hen, you two were strictly school friends.

“Haven’t you got...other friends here?” You ask Sofie when you reach the kitchen, hoping it didn’t come off too bluntly.

“Yes?” She blinks.

“Won’t they wonder where you are?”

“They probably don’t even know where they are,” she laughs. “Plus you’re cool, we should hang out more Y/N.”

“Yeah...” you smile at her. She was nice.

You expect Harry to be in the kitchen once you reach the keg but he’s nowhere you could see. The churning in your stomach intensifies.

“Let’s go,” she says as your cup fills and you’re once again being dragged through the house. The room in the very back on the top floor is where you end up and as soon as the door opens you realise what Sofie meant about relaxing. A cloud of weed invades your nostrils and you feel you could get high with the sheer amount of smoke in the air alone.

“Close the door!” Someone shouts inside.

“Fuck off!” Sofie shouts, shooting you a wink. “Guess who I found?”

“Y/N!” A few people from class reocognise you and begin shfiting. The good thing about being the “nice one” at school was that everyone sort of liked you and nobody bothered you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” someone says to you. You couldn’t make out who it was so you just smile in the general direction.

“I always thought Y/N was too posh to come to one of these parties,” someone else says and your anxiety spikes. Maybe not everybody liked you.

“She’s right here you shites,” Sofie pats your leg. “Ignore them. They’re all out of their minds right now. We all love you, we just never see you outside of school.”

You let that sink in. It was true—you were always either at home or at Harry’s. Maybe this was good, to be out with your classmates.

You start to feel a little at ease until you spot him near the window. Harry. With the same brunette from downstairs.

You hear someone asking you a question but your gaze is trained on Harry, his hand grips the girl’s face and her hands are on his waist as he pulls her in, his face disappearing into her neck.

“Hullo!” Someone waves a hand in front of your face. “I think the smoke alone’s done her in.”

People around you laugh and you snap out of it, Sof stares at you with her round eyes, holding the glass object out to you. “Y/N? You alright?”

“Yeah,” you croak, taking a swig of your cup. This was so not your crowd.

“Over here,” Harry’s deep voice carries over and he motions for the bong being passed to you. Sofie hands it to him.

“Don’t mind him Y/N, he’s not worth it. He’s always hooking up with some random girl. Anyway, do you want one of these instead?” Sofie pushes cookies in front of your face, trying to distract you. She didn’t realise you’d minded him a lot, for at least the last year.

“I-“ she puts one in your hand before you can decline. Your eyes are still on Harry, don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.

His eyes catch yours as he takes another hit and winks as he exhales. The churning in your stomach becomes violent.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you say before bolting from the room.

The toilets are occupied and your only other option is to make it outside in time to retch into the bushes on the side. Fuck.

You sit on the steps, eyeing the Rover that had driven you here. You didn’t even know why Harry had driven when he was going to get blackout drunk at the party. You didn’t even know why you had agreed to come with him here.

Your bum grows cold against the concrete steps as you regret the whole night.

“There you-you’re,” a voice slurs from behind you. Harry.

You ignore him, tears stinging from the humiliation of being here and the heartbreak he put you through every bloody time.

It wasn’t always like this though. Harry used to be sweet with you but always said he wanted to keep the relationship on the down low. Didn’t want his mates taking the piss out of you for dating him. So you’d agreed. And slowly he was less sweet and more sour, only coming by when he was drunk, leaving drunk voice messages about how much he wanted you, and only kissing you in the shadows. He’d strapped you onto the rollercoaster and there were too many ups and downs.

“Y/N,” Harry says gentler. “Why’d you go?”

“Surprised you even noticed,” you mumble.

“Huh?” He sits beside you, more like tumbles down beside you. “This party sucks, wanta come over mine?”

“I don’t know,” you say softly, getting up and walking towards the street. This was his routine, ignoring you at the party, then saving you for later.

“Okayokayokay,” Harry comes up after you. “I’ll drive ya home.”

You whip around, was he crazy? But he really was fumbling with his keys. You slide yourself in between him and the car and snatch the keys once he produces it from his pocket. This close, you could see what a mess the night had made of him.

“Give me-“ he tries to grab the keys but you lower them behind you.

“Are you out of your mind? You’re pissed and you’re high and you want to get into the bloody car like that?!”

“Woah,” he breathes, swaying slightly. “Tha was sexy.”

“What?” You sputter, he was impossible. “Harry!”

“Keys?” he leans in, his arms surrounding your waist and you feel your guard slip a little. Bad habits.

“We’ll walk home,” you say into his chest as he puts his weight into you, pressing your back into the car. He’s all muscle and musk.

“You are home,” he hums against you. “C’mere.”

He tilts your chin up and lays a sweet kiss against your lips, and you almost forget the whole night—it’s that perfect. You feel reborn against him this way, pressed into his warmth, his hands holding you like you meant something to him.

But you didn’t.

“Let’s go,” it takes everything in you to push him off. He’d kissed another girl tonight. In front of you. You had to remember that.

“Why?” He whines, pulling you to him again, his back against the car now. He traps you between his arms but you wriggle out.

“It’s gonna be a long walk, I’m tired. We should go.”

He sighs. “Yes missus,” He salutes you and then dissolves into a fit of giggles. You roll your eyes but your heart softens enough to loop your arm through his to drag him along.

“You’re the best y’know?” he slurs along your walk home. “M’lucky to ‘ave-“

He trips over a loose cobblestone and you’re nearly wiped too but you catch yourself in time. Harry, on the other hand, lays sprawled on the floor laughing. You really were tired, but a smile breaks out on your face.

“You’re such a klutz,” you say over him, bending to pick to pick up the phone that had fallen from his pocket.

“C’mere!” Harry shouts, opening his arms but you laugh and continue walking. “Y/N!” He stretches out your name from where he still lay. “Please! Help!”

“Harry I’m leaving you behind! And I have your phone and keys with me!”

That gets him up, following up behind you and grabbing you by the waist as he walks. You were almost to his house. Your own was another five minutes away.

“That’s my house!” Harry points to the third one down as it comes into view.

“I know,” you chuckle. “And everyone is asleep. Keep your voice down!”

“C’mon,” he walks backwards onto his driveway, still holding your hand. “With me.”

“I’m tired,” you say again.

“Baby,” He pouts, a tactic that usually worked. “M’lonely.”

“Harry,” you sigh.

He backs himself into the brick of his house and pulls you towards him by your belt loop. You go without much of a fight.

“Please?” He asks again, putting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, a battle going on in your heart. Go with him, make love, feel wanted and needed. And then discarded. Or leave with your head held high, your heart a little hurt but better for you when you wake up tomorrow morning without regrets.

“Harry-“ you get out before he pulls you into a kiss, no longer sweet like before. This kiss was Drunk Harry, pulsing in want. Your teeths clash against each other, his kiss demanding all of you as he pivots so you’re up against the wall. Your hands automatically go up to his hair, you loved the silky strands between your fingers. His hands go everywhere: your face, down to your waist, back up to your hair, sliding up your shirt, his cold fingers fumbling with your shirt. It shocks you out of the fervour.

“No!” You push him away. “Harry, stop.”

“Wha?” He steps towards you again, his hands already on your hips, but you push your hands against his chest, his heart beating fast underneath. “What?”

You look at him, a good look. His eyes are frantic, his mouth rubbed raw-almost a violent streak on his face. This was not the sweet guy you fell for. You wanted off of his rollercoaster.

“Harry I just-I wish...” you drop your arms and step sideways. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” He repeats for the hundredth time. “What’s that mean?”

“I’m tired of this. I can’t play this game anymore.”

He reaches for you again, a wounded look on his face. But you push his hand away, the simple act crushing your heart in a vice so tight that it’s hard for you to even choke out the words.

“I wish you didn’t have to get so drunk. Harry I just...I wish you were sober.”

Harry sways towards you and then back and his brows furrow. He opens his mouth and then closes it as you take another step back.

“I wish you were sober,” you whisper again, more to yourself, before turning your back to the only guy who made you feel like life was worth living.

You turn away from him, and you walk back home. Head held high.

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 1: Flee

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (Book 3, Chapter 1... just kidding. I wish, though)

Word Count: ~3300

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: Riley knows what needs to be done.

Author’s Note: So, maybe TRH3 will interest me if we get something like this... but we won’t. This is an AU (not officially yet, but undoubtedly this won’t be the path PB takes) that picks up immediately after the end of TRH2. I don’t know if I’ll play around any more in this universe or not, but I had a lot of fun exploring how Riley Liu would actually react to everything that unfolded. This wasn’t exactly what I envisioned when I started writing this piece, and it probably won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but I like how this turned out, and I hope some of you can enjoy it. Thanks to @shz256 for asking me to tackle this topic! I don’t know if this will be how you envisioned it or not, but it’s where these characters led me.

Riley felt as if things were happening in slow motion, but as if time was somehow passing by faster than normal, too. She could barely catch her breath, trying to follow the discussion about ancient, unused statutes that would somehow take her daughter from her. She needed to listen, to understand, to pay attention, but it was hard not to be overwhelmed by panic. They were trying to take her baby.

It felt like a horror movie, so surreal and shocking, listening as Landon and Kiara, two people she trusted, pronounced her an unfit mother. Kiara, who was always direct with her, who had never been dismissive or involved in a scheme against her. Until now, apparently. And Landon, who she admired, who she knew Drake looked to as a model on how to be a member of the nobility with some common sense. Well, fuck ‘em.

Fuck all of it. Fuck this country and it’s stupid backwater practices. Fuck social seasons and childhood betrothals and and apple themed everything. Fuck her child being heir to the throne. Fuck Liam for asking. Fuck Drake for convincing her to agree. Fuck being a duchess. Just… fuck. She never wanted her life to look like this, her daughter a political figure before she took her first steps, expected to bear the burden of the crown. She knew what she had to do. She would die before they took her daughter from her.

There was exactly one person who she could trust who was also in a position to help her. As she wrapped her arms around Bridget, holding her close, her eyes darted around the room frantically. Olivia was already on her feet, coming to stand next to Liam, who was now apparently debating the finer points of this fucking law. Widening her eyes and staring her down, Riley was able to get her attention. Olivia tilted her head down slightly in acknowledgement, sliding back a half step and turning her head partially to the side so that Riley could whisper in her ear without drawing too much attention.

“I need you to slow them down,” was all she breathed out before pivoting on her heel. The door was only a few feet away. With the element of surprise and Olivia defending her, she could get out of here. Make a run for it. The main gate was out with all the press and citizens there, but if she could find the back driveway that Drake had told her-”

A hand on her shoulder tugged her back around before she’d even fully taken a step, sharp red nails digging painfully into her skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” hissed Olivia, taking advantage of the fact that Liam and Barthelemy had both stepped closer to each other, raising their voices ever so slightly, though nowhere near loud enough to be considered yelling, to serve as a small distraction. Even still, she and Olivia didn’t go completely unnoticed. Both Drake and Hana were watching the two of them closely, Drake clearly torn between stepping over to join her and staying where he was and not drawing any more attention to her conversation. Maxwell just seemed lost and in shock, standing off to the side, staring at his fingers. And Kiara had glanced their way briefly, but quickly flicked her eyes back to the brewing confrontation between Liam and Barthelemy. Everyone else seemed to be ignoring them.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here before they take my baby,” Riley ground out, her voice breaking slightly at the end, sliding her hand over the back of her daughter’s head as she started squirming. It was hard to soothe her when she felt like she might throw up if she had to stay here a second longer.

“Calm down. We need a better plan than-”

“I don’t fucking have time, Olivia. I have to go. Now.”

Olivia sighed, then pulled a small blade from a hidden pocket near her waist and slid it into Riley’s hand, “My driver is out front. Ray. Show him I gave you this, and he will take you to the Lythikos keep.”

“No, I need to get out of Cordon-”

“Riley, take Bridget there. You will be safe. Lythikos will not tolerate a Beaumont-led invasion. The citizens will take up arms before that happens.”

“I can’t risk that. I need-”

“You need more of a plan than just running on foot. You know I’m right, so go tell Hana that you are going to go change Bridget’s diaper. Then calmly walk out of here and straight to my town car.”

Riley knew further discussion would be pointless, and she was just wasting time. Fighting every urge in her body that told her to just bolt, she took those few painful steps closer to the assholes who were trying to take her child so she could tell Hana they were stepping out for a diaper change. Hana squinted slightly, clearly not sure why she was being told this info over Drake, but nodded. Riley could feel Drake staring at her, practically boring a hole into the back of her head with his gaze, but she couldn’t worry about him right now. Her daughter had to be her priority.

She strode calmly to the back of the room. Olivia passed her the diaper bag and gave her a nod as she heard Barthelemy cry out, “Duchess Riley, where are you going?” but Riley just kept walking. She couldn’t risk looking back. She caught Hana’s calming voice start to explain, and all she could do was hope that would be enough and that everyone would buy it. 

She kept her arms wrapped around Bridget as tight as she could, striding down the hall and through the entryway. She wanted to bolt, run straight through those doors, but she didn’t know if she could trust anyone at the palace right now. She had no idea if they had heard gossip and knew what was coming or if they were about to feel as blindsided as her. 

“Babababa!” Bridget babbled excitedly at a pair of guards that were stationed near the front doors, squirming wildly in Riley’s arms.

“Shh, Peanut. You gotta stay with Mama right now,” Riley murmured into her hair as she adjusted her grip on her daughter. She nodded at the guards as she passed through the palace doors, hoping they just assumed she was stepping out because her child was being disruptive. She was sure she looked anxious, though, and the only reason she wasn’t visibly trembling was because of how tightly she was holding Bridget.

She heard a few cheers from what was left of the crowds that had gathered outside the gates to see the arrival of all of Cordonia’s nobility for the start of the Social Season, but she couldn’t worry about them at that moment. She squinted in the sunlight, scanning the drive for Ray, finally spotting him pacing next to a town car maybe a couple hundred feet away, tucked around a bend in the drive that limited its visibility from the front gates. She realized he was smoking while he read something on his phone as she got closer, propelled forward by pure adrenaline. He didn’t glance up at her until she was only a dozen or so feet away, likely not expecting anyone to be approaching him for a while. When he realized she was walking toward him, he quickly shoved his phone in his pocket and stood up straight.

“Your Grace, can I help you?” Ray asked as she closed the rest of the distance between them, dropping his cigarette to the gravel and snuffing it out with the heel of his shoe. Bridget tucked her head into Riley’s shoulder and clutched at her collar. She didn’t like being around strangers, probably a side effect of all the galas and balls and shindigs she’d already been forced to attend. It made Riley feel guilty that she had let things get this far before she took any action, having already subjected her daughter to so much she didn’t deserve.

Riley unclentched her fist just slightly, trying to show Ray what Olivia gave her, but her hands were shaking more and more as the reality of her plan set in, plus she was reluctant to loosen her grip on Bridget even slightly. “Olivia told me that you would drive me where I need to go if I showed you this,” she said, her voice quivering slightly as she finally flashed him the razor thin knife Olivia had given her. Ray jerked his head up when he saw it, staring at Riley for a few tense seconds before scanning the palace behind her. Riley chanced looking back. No one had followed her out here… yet.

“Of course, ma’am. Where are we heading today?”

Riley took a deep breath. She knew what she needed to do. “Ray, do you know the closest border?”

He didn’t react to her question with any shock or surprise, just glanced up as if he were recalling a map in his mind. “The closest from the capital would be the Auvernese border, but I am guessing that does not suit your needs.”

“No, not exactly.”

“Well, The Greek border is probably the next closest.”

“Perfect. That’s where we’re going.”

Ray nodded and moved to open the door for her, but stopped suddenly. “Are you and Her Royal Highness the only passengers today?” he asked, eyes locked over her shoulder in the direction of the palace doors.

Riley nodded, letting her eyes flutter shut and taking a deep breath as she gripped Bridget tighter with her left arm, sliding Olivia’s knife into her grasp better. She was ready to do what she needed to do.

“So the Duke of Valtoria won’t be making this trip with you?” At Ray’s second question, Riley’s eyes flew open and she spun around in shock. There was Drake, essentially power walking across the drive, head jerking back behind him repeatedly.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, I will be in the driver’s seat, ma’am. Whoever gets in the car with you I can take, unless you tell me ‘hit it, Ray,’ alright? If you tell me that, I’ll remove anyone who isn’t you and the princess. Does that suit?”

Riley just nodded weakly. This morning, she could have never pictured a time where she would possibly be making plans without Drake. Plans in opposition to Drake potentially. But she wasn’t sure how he was going to feel about this. About abandoning Liam and their friends and their country in a time of crisis. But she needed to protect her daughter, whether her husband was on board with that plan or not.

“What are you doing out here? They’re going to get suspicious.” she asked as soon as he was close enough that she could keep her voice low. Bridget squirmed in her arms, reaching for Drake and calling excitedly for “Dada,” but Riley kept a tight hold on her. She couldn’t let go of her daughter for anyone at the moment.

Drake opened his left hand, revealing a tube of diaper cream. “Olivia nicked it from the bag and dropped it on the floor so I would have an excuse to go after you. We gotta get going, though.”

“We?”

“Olivia just told me we’d be under her protection at the Lythikos keep and that we’d discuss details later, so on the drive, if you could fill me in on anything else you know, that would be great, Walker.”

Drake moved to open the car door, but Riley shook her head, a few of the tears she’d been fighting starting to trickle down her cheeks as she clutched Drake’s arm, halting him.

“Drake…” 

He took one look at her and grasped both her shoulders tightly, dropping a light kiss to her temple, “It’s gonna be okay, Riley. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or Bridget. But we gotta get out of here. The sooner we enter her duchy, the better.”

“Drake, I’m not taking Bridget to Lythikos,” she croaked out, opening her eyes and taking in his expressions as he tried to understand what she was saying.

“Olivia said-”

“I know. Olivia doesn’t know.”

Drake swallowed roughly before he spoke again, “So where-”

“Greece is apparently the best option from here.”

Another rough swallow, “Did you have any plans to tell me you were running away and taking our daughter to a foreign country?” His voice had a harsh edge to it, but he wasn’t livid yet. But Riley knew it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge. Not today.

“Drake, I just… I can’t stay and… I would have gotten word to you. I just can’t risk them getting their hands on her. I have to keep her safe.” Riley knew she was rambling, but she just wanted him to understand. It wasn’t about him, it was about doing everything she could to keep her daughter. Hell, there were all those stories about women who lifted cars by themselves to save their babies. Going to hide out in a different country was nothing compared to that.

“Riley, listen to me. This is insane,” Drake kept holding onto her shoulders tightly, but his voice was more desperate, pleading, needy than it had been mere seconds earlier. “We don’t have any luggage or our passports or any of Bridget’s things. If we flee, this gets ten times worse. Come with me to Lythikos. We’ll fight this from there. All of us.”

“What do you mean, all of us?”

“Liam, Hana, Maxwell, Olivia - everyone. Barthelemy right now is in there trying to strip Liam of his title, and I’m no legal scholar, so I have no idea if he has any leg to stand on here. But together we can fight this coup. We will fight this coup.”

Riley just shook her head, tears falling more and more rapidly now. She’d known he would see this as a national matter. But she just couldn’t. Not anymore. “I’m done, Drake.”

“Done?” he pulled back, jerking his hands off her shoulders as if they had scalded him.

“Done being a duchess. Done letting my kid be used as a pawn in fucking political games. Done trusting Liam to sort this out, just waiting for the next shoe to drop. Because the next shoe always drops, Drake. Blackmail and assassins and foreign invasions have been constant, and I’ve haven’t even been here three years! I’m done with Cordonia. I’ve given them enough. I’m not giving them my daughter.”

“Ri-” Drake started, but the words kept flowing out of Riley, all the anger and hurt and fears and struggles just bubbling out, no longer shoved away and ignored.

“This was never supposed to be us! We were never supposed to be raising the heir to the throne! I’m not cut out for this, but I tried. I tried when Liam asked for our kid. I tried when my entire pregnancy was a media circus. I tried when my daughter’s future looked like it was going to be tied up in a foreign marriage alliance. But I am done trying, Drake. Because now they are trying to take my child from me, and I refuse to risk becoming my mother.”

She let out a ragged breath, trying to calm herself. She didn’t have time to get into all this, not now. She needed to be on the road, putting as much distance between her daughter and those asshats and douche nozzles as possible. “I am doing what I need to do to keep my daughter by my side. And if you need to stay and fight this coup, I get it. But Bridget is not going to stay in this country a second longer than she has to, and there is nothing you can say to change my mind.”

Drake just stared at her and Bridget for a few agonizing seconds before nodding at her. “Okay. Yeah… okay.”

Riley tensed slightly at that response, not sure how to interpret his words, but after a moment, Drake continued, “So, we better get going,” tilting his chin towards the town car behind her. “He onboard with the change of plan?”

A little sob escaped Riley as relief washed over her and she sagged forward against Drake’s chest, comforted by the strong, solid arms that immediately wrapped around her and Bridget. She’d been ready to do this alone, she really had. But Drake wasn’t going to let that happen. He hadn’t really let her face much alone since she’d first set foot on Cordonian soil, an impulsive New Yorker with no idea what she was in for. He’d had her back long before he loved her, long before he liked her even. And even now, years later, it still felt like a blessing she never could have expected.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair, “I’ve got you both.”

Riley let out a rough sigh, raising one hand to wipe away the tears still spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you, Drake.”

“Riley, I told you - I’m not gonna let anything happen to you or Bridget. Got it?”

She nodded, pulling back in his arms to meet his gaze and offer him the best smile she could muster. 

“Good. But we need to hit the road. This is already a long “diaper change,” and someone is bound to go looking for us,” he said, taking a step towards the car, sliding his arms from Riley’s back to grab Bridget who had twisted on her hip to grab onto Drake’s shirt. This time, Riley let him take her from her. “Before I put my foot in my mouth in there, I need to know what Ray knows.”

“He thinks Olivia is having him take me wherever I want to go.”

“Got it. You set?” he asked, opening the door for her with one hand as he bounced Bridget on his hip slightly.

“Yeah,” she responded, sliding into the back seat of the town car. Drake was seconds behind her, and as soon as he closed the door behind him, Ray twisted around to face them.

“Ready, Your Graces?”

Riley clutched Drake's hand on the seat next to her and gave Ray a little nod, “Yup. Same plan.”

“Excellent. Just knock if you need anything,” Ray said, turning back to face forward, starting the car and raising the privacy divider between the driver’s and back seats. 

Within seconds, the car was rolling forward. Bridget was babbling, patting her chubby little hands against the window. She loved car rides so much. Drake, on the other hand, sat rigidly straight, staring out the window with her, but clearly just as anxious as Riley that they weren’t even going to make it off the palace grounds without getting stopped. But they barely paused for a few seconds at the guard station before the gates swung open and they turned onto the main road.

Riley let out a massive sigh of relief and Drake closed his eyes and tipped his head back, also letting out a rough breath as he gave her hand a squeeze. As they picked up speed, distancing themselves more and more from the palace, Riley leaned over to rest her head on Drake’s shoulder, smiling up at him as he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. He dropped a long kiss on her forehead before pulling back and nodding at her, slowly and surely. For now, they were safe, and they were together. It was a good first step.

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld​

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 25

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

Word Count: 4071

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

PLEASE let me know what you think

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

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

There was no use in dwelling over Harry right now. It seemed silly to even want to cry, considering Paul, who was seated across from her, was literally fighting for his life. Who was she to cry over a boy that had no interest in dating her? Her problems seemed minuscule to the real tragedies happening all around her. The four of them finished up dinner and when they had finished, Carol whisked their dishes away to wash.

“I should get Zoey over to her mom’s to change now so I can get to the bar in time,” Michael called, standing up, “We’ll meet you there later?”

“Yeah, go on. We’ll see you there,” Paul nodded from his seat at the table.

Being alone with Michael wasn’t as awkward as she thought it’d be. His old, beat-up red car, which usually reeked of stale cigarettes, now only had a lingering scent that was hidden behind the sweet smell of moonlight breeze Gain car fresheners. He explained to her how he’d quit smoking a month ago and it was going well. The twenty-minute conversation to her parents’ house didn’t seem forced like she expected it to be. And he hadn’t once made a pass at her. Maybe he finally moved on.

When she led him into the landing of her parents’ house, her mom’s voice rang out, “Zoey? Is that you?”

“Yeah, I’ve got Mikey with me!” she called back, urging him on.

She could hear her mom’s voice sing his name from the other room and they both shared a look, knowing that Michael was about to be trapped in the endless tirades of Mary. Zoey giggled watching him drag his feet in the directions of the living room, leaving her to go change.

“Hurry,” he quietly urged before he rounded the corner.

She had managed to take up her luggage that morning, so she made her way towards the bedroom, noticing Katie’s bed neatly made and the lights still off. Her car was in the driveway when they arrived, so she must be in the living room with her mom. 

Rummaging through her suitcase, Zoey grew more frustrated, feeling silly. All of her clothes were new and were geared more towards her life in LA. Her wardrobe had changed along with her personality and she felt like if she walked downstairs wearing any of these clothes Michael would see right through her and think that she was an imposter.

She had no choice. She didn’t fit into Katie’s clothes and there was no time to go shopping. With a sigh, she slipped into a straight, spaghetti-strapped, white dress and paired it with white sneakers and a jean jacket to make it look more casual. She ran her fingers through her dirty blonde hair, looking at herself in the reflection of Katie’s mirror, finally embracing her new look. This was her. It took years to feel comfortable in her own skin and she wasn’t going to let her insecurities ruin that.

Zoey bounced down the stairs and towards the living room where, sure enough, Katie sat beside Michael, both listening to Mary blabber on about how sorry she was to hear the news of Michael’s dad and the trauma he and Zoey have experienced already. Zoey would have felt embarrassed for her mother’s constant and unwanted reminders, but Michael was used to it having had Mary in his life for five years now. He knew she meant no harm from it and had grown enough thick skin by this point to not pay it any mind.

“I’m ready,” Zoey announced, walking into the room.

“Where are you going?” Katie asked curiously.

Michael stood up, “I have a show tonight at Slyfox. You can join us if you want.”

Before Katie could respond, Mary interrupted, chuckling slightly, “No, Katie’s too young to go.”

“But I’m eighteen! And Zoey will be there!” Katie countered, eyes pleading, but to no avail. Her mom wouldn’t budge.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Michael roughed up Katie’s hair, “maybe next time.”

Zoey always appreciated how Michael treated her younger sister and tried to include her in things, even though it usually got shot down by her parents. Zoey had tried talking to her mom about loosening the reins on Katie a little bit, but the conversation clearly hadn’t done much. At least she started college soon. Her freedom was only weeks away.

“You nervous to see your old coworkers?” Michael asked as they loaded back into the car.

Zoey, shrugged, “A little. But I miss them.”

“Well, the guys are excited to see you,” he said, mentioning his bandmates, “I think Dan is bringing Becky, so you’ll get to see her, too.”

Zoey smiled. Becky was Dan’s girlfriend. The two of them have been dating since right around the time she and Michael first got together. Becky was a sweet girl, but shy like her sister. The two of them had gotten along really well, hanging out during their band rehearsals and attending their little shows together. Zoey liked to think that she had helped Becky come out of her shell in the beginning. 

“Listen,” Michael started, his tone a little hesitant as he scratched the back of his head, “I think I should warn you, in case you hear it from any of the guys, but, uh...I’m kinda seeing someone.”

“Oh?”

She had been anticipating this conversation. She knew the day would come where Michael would have moved on and started dating again, but honestly, it threw her off guard. She was happy for him, don’t get her wrong, but there would always be a part of her that still loved Michael. They had been through a lot together for nearly five years and she was so close to his family. There were so many plans and expectations within their relationship that they never got to carry out. They had talked about kids and marriage and buying a house together, and it ended before either of them could accomplish any of it. She wasn’t hurt. She’s the one that ended things, after all. And she didn’t regret that decision, either. But it still left her a little sad. It was the ending of an era.

Michael rushed to explain himself, his tone still the same. She could tell he was trying to ease into it, afraid of hurting her feelings, “It’s nothing serious, yet. But, yeah, I just thought you should know.”

Zoey turned to look at him, grinning understandingly, “I’m happy for you. You deserve it.”

Michael smiled back, nodding. She could see the relief wash over him as his shoulders relaxed. It’s weird - being back in this car with him. There were so many memories involving this car. A stain on the upholstery of her seat from when she accidentally spilled hot chocolate after a spontaneous midnight Wawa run. Warn out stereo buttons from the endless song skipping they did on their long road trips to the Poconos. A dent in the dash from when she had kicked it a little too hard in an attempt to get to the back seat. The number of times they had car sex in the back was, admittedly, a bit ridiculous. 

It started pretty early on at the beginning of their relationship. They met at the Slyfox. His band was playing a gig while she bartended. His friends dared him to ask her for her phone number, typical young kid shit. Then it turned into them sneaking away during break to have sex in his car. She’d always come back in, hair disheveled, trying her best to act nonchalant. She had an inkling everyone knew what she was doing, but no one said anything. Not like Andy would. Andy had no problem calling her out.

They had their fair share of fun during their relationship, that’s for sure. And Jess liked him, which only furthered her appeal for him. Jess, as kind and personable as she was, was very protective over Zoey and the men she dated. Having fun was one thing, but if you were going to make it official, it better be a good guy. It wasn’t often that Jess approved of the guys she dated. It could have been why Zoey held onto her relationship for so long. She always had a feeling that she was destined for something, or someone, else. But Jess liked her and Zoey loved his family, so why bother ruining that on a nagging hunch? 

She knew now that she was right. They were destined for something else. It was proof enough that she needed to listen to her instincts more. Which is why she tried so hard to listen to her instincts when trying to cut things off with Harry. Ever heard of the saying ‘If you care about something, let it go. If it returns, it was meant to be?’ It wasn’t a test for Harry. He didn’t get brownie points if he shot her a random text saying ‘Sorry. Let’s date.’ But, to her, there was some sort of truth in the statement. She knew how much she cared about Harry, romantically, and platonically. Harry was, in every literal sense of the word, her soulmate. She knew it to be true very early on in their relationship. 

Zoey honestly believed that this hiccup that was happening between them wouldn’t last forever. Things may not end up the way she wanted; she might not ever get the chance to be with him on an intimate level again. And she was okay with that if it meant just having him in his life. But he needed to be ready. Emotionally, he still didn’t know who he was or what he wanted to become. He needed to figure that out himself. She had no doubt in her mind that he would return to her one day. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not a year from now. Maybe not even ten years from now. But one day, he’d be back. She had to believe that. She needed to believe that. Otherwise, she just made the biggest mistake of her life.

Pulling up to the bar filled her with the biggest sense of nostalgia. When they walked through the door and the aroma of liquor and greasy food hit her, a smile instantly formed on her face. Everything still looked the same as it did the day she left. Lighting so dim that it took a minute to adjust, old tables and chairs scattered throughout the building, a poorly wiped down bartop with early 2000’s hits playing loudly over the speaker, patrons scattered around loudly yapping at each other. She saw the wall of framed pictures with workers and various ‘famous’ people, who weren’t all that famous to begin with, but noticeable enough. She noticed one framed picture that stood out from the rest. It wasn’t quite in the center, but close to it. A framed picture of Jess smiling and holding up a bottle of beer with light-up necklaces and gaudy party hats amongst the rest of their coworkers, Zoey standing right beside her, with an edited banner at the bottom that read ‘Jessica Lewis. Rest In Peace.’. 

Zoey remembered the day that picture was taken. It was New Years a few months before Jess died. Their boss had gathered everyone together to take a picture for their Facebook page to advertise discounted drinks. Jess was in the center because of course she was. Everyone loved him. 

“Zoey?” she heard the familiar booming voice of Dan, Michael’s friend, and the singer of their band. She turned and smiled seeing him and the rest of the guys in the band walking towards her. “Holy shit, I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair down. How have you been? You look hot!” 

Zoey laughed, giving him and the rest of the boys hugs. Dan was always very blunt, as were the rest of the guys. Before she could respond, Zach, the drummer, joked, “Not here to waste your time on this loser again, are you?” he backhanded Michael on the chest with a smirk.

“Absolutely not,” she laughed, bantering, “I live in LA now. I’ve got a city full of D-list celebrities at my disposal.”

Suddenly, she heard a screeching echo from behind the bar and turned to see her old coworker, Riley, jumping over, “Shut the fuck up! Zoey? What the hell are you doing back here?” She ran, practically tackling Zoey into the wall with such force that a framed fire exit picture came crashing to the ground. Riley paid it no mind, however, as she was too busy admiring Zoey’s hair and outfit. “Fuck! What’s in the LA water? You look so good!”

After seeing the commotion that Riley caused, more of her old coworkers had realized who had come in and they all started running over to greet her, welcoming her back with warm hugs and compliments. Michael and the guys had excused themselves to finish setting up while Zoey made her way over to the bar so that she could continue talking to her friends while they worked, laughing, and exchanging old stories while they caught her up on what’s been going on at the bar.

She felt a presence standing behind her and she turned to see Becky, a nervous grin on her face. Zoey’s eyes lit up and she stood to pull her into a hug, “Becky, I missed you!” 

“I missed you, too,” she muttered, smiling wider. “I was wondering when you’d come back to visit. Wish it was on better terms, though. I’m sure Paul was happy to see you.”

Zoey nodded solemnly, “It’s hard to believe it’s real, you know?”

“I know, he’s a good man.”

It didn’t take long for the boys to finish up their tuning before they were finally introduced and began playing. Monday nights were always live-music nights at Slyfox in an attempt to draw in more business. And it worked pretty well. The first half of the night was always slower, but the crowds usually started pouring in around 9 PM and you could always be sure to see the same groups of people coming in. 

Eventually, Michael’s parents had gotten there. They always did their best to attend any performance of their son’s, always having been supportive of his hobby of music. They knew all of the songs, singing and dancing along. Zoey always admired their parenting and knew that if she were ever given the chance to be a mother, she would want to be just like them. 

Listening to the band play brought Zoey back even more. She felt like she was reliving her memories at this point. The only reason she wasn’t entirely warped into this false sense of reality was because Jess wasn’t there. It just didn’t feel right being here without her. The familiar chords of a slower song began playing. It was a song that Michael had written about Zoey in their first year of dating, and to this day was still one of the favorites amongst the crowd. It wasn’t cheesy or too romantic; just about seeing a pretty girl from across the bar. But it was a tradition for Paul to dance with Zoey to this song.

Instinctively, the two turned to look at each other and Carol smiled, knowingly, as Paul struggled for a split second to stand up, “I’ve got to dance with my girl,” he grinned, holding a hand out for her.

Zoey grinned, taking his hand as he led her a few feet away at the edge of the crowd of people before she turned and put a hand gently on her waist while the other continued to hold onto her hand. Paul was a tall man, towering over her a good eight inches. She rested her head on his chest, bonier than she remembered it being. But it eased her tension to hear his heart beating strongly in his chest. She thought, for a moment, maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe he wasn’t dying. A man this good and this kind couldn’t be taken from them. But she felt his weight beginning to bear down on her, becoming too tired to stand for much longer. She felt angry and upset. Why was this happening? It wasn’t fair. 

“You alright?” she whispered, trying not to sound too concerned.

His voice replied, more strained, but confident, “Yeah, I’ve got a strong dance partner.”

The song ended and Zoey led him back towards his wife who urged him to sit down while Zoey shared a quick look with Michael. He nodded, seeing the worry in her eyes, and she knew that he felt it, too. 

Harry hardly got any sleep that night, and by the next morning, he had practically downed a quart of coffee at his mother’s house for breakfast with her and Gemma, the words from the fight of last night repeating in his head. He analyzed every tone in each word he spoke, infuriating himself. He was better than that. He knew he was. For years he has been handling tough, hard-hitting questions with grace and ease. Why was it that he struggled when it came to his own intimate relationships he got flustered and spoke out of his ass? Almost every single thing he said he didn’t mean. Why was it so hard for him?

Zoey was right. She had never been anything but open and honest with him. There was no reason for him to feel like he couldn’t tell her any of what he was feeling. He didn’t need to worry about hurting her feelings because she was the most understandable person he knew. He was so caught up in being afraid that he was going to lose her, that he pushed her away. What kind of idiot did that make him?

He wanted to call her back or text her, but he didn’t know what to say. An apology seemed pitiful. He couldn’t seem to find the right words to express just how regretful he was. And he still couldn’t figure out everything he was feeling enough to give her an answer to her question. He cared for her so deeply that hearing the silence on the other end of the line just about shattered his heart. And waking up this morning to texts from everyone but her only made it worse. 

He wondered how her night was with Michael. She said that she had no intention of getting back with him, but he still found himself wondering if he had pushed her back into the arms of her ex. He knew how strong of a relationship she had with his family, it was certainly possible. He needed to stop thinking this way. He needed to stop assuming.

“Now, I know you don’t have jetlag,” Harry’s mom, Anne, spoke after placing her cup on the table, noticing Harry’s exhaustion, “Rome is only an hour difference. What’s the matter, darling?”

“You look like you got dumped,” Gemma teased, unknowingly.

The look on Harry’s face must have hit both women at the same time because their eyes widened in realization and they shared a glance before Anne spoke again, more softly, “Is it that Zoey girl?”

“Mom,” Harry warned.

“I didn’t know you two were dating,” Gemma spoke.

“We weren’t.”

“Well did something happen in Italy, then?” his sister pressed. When Harry didn’t answer, her eyebrows raised and a smirk began to form, “It did, didn’t it? I knew you liked her!”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure she hates me now.”

“What happened, dear?” his mom asked, placing a hand on top of his.

Harry sighed, slouching more in his chair, “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Well, maybe we can be of some help,” his mom offered.

Harry hesitated, taking a moment to decide before taking a breath. Why not? “It’s my fault, really. Things happened in Italy and they were great. But then she asked where our relationship was going and I panicked and said I didn’t know and accused her of still wanting to be with her ex-boyfriend because she flew home to visit him.”

“Why is she visiting her ex-boyfriend?” Gemma asked, her face screwed up in judgment.

Harry winced, covering his face with his hands, embarrassed as he explained, “Because she found out his dad is dying of cancer and has three months to live. And she’s extremely close to him.”

The girls gasped. He didn’t need to look up at their faces. He knew that the judgment they had for Zoey a second ago would be shifted onto him. And his intuition was correct as he heard his mom breathe his name in disappointment, “Oh, Harry.” He looked up to see her eyes filled with sadness, almost pleading, “You didn’t.”

He groaned, throwing his head back, “I know. I don’t know why I said it. She’s the one that broke up with him in the first place. I just panicked!”

“Well, why did you panic, you idiot? You obviously like her!” Gemma urged, as though it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

“You know how hard dating is for me!” Harry defended himself, “It’s a lot more complicated than just liking each other.”

“Darling,” Anne spoke so evenly that she made everything sound so simple and plain, “It’s okay to be worried. We know your life isn’t as black and white as most people, and that’s okay. But you remember how it feels to lose a loved one from cancer. Remember Robin and Johannah? Remember how hard that was for you? All she needs is someone who understands and someone who can be there for her. Not the added pressure that you put on her.”

“I know. I messed up,” Harry groaned into his palms, “I don’t know what to do. I really don’t want to lose her. I’m just…I don’t know. My life isn’t easy to keep up with.”

“Do you care about her?” Anne asked.

“Yes.”

“Then don’t you think she can decide if she can keep up with you or not?”

“....yes.”

“Then tell her, you idiot!” Gemma smacked him.

“What if she’s still pissed off at me? What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me?” he stressed.

Anne shot her daughter a look of warning before calmly explaining, “Darling, you both clearly care about each other. She might still be upset, but I doubt she’d be unwilling to talk to you. You don’t have to jump into a relationship if you don’t want to. But you should be honest with yourself and her and have a conversation about what you really want out of it. If you just want her in your life as a friend, then tell her. But if seeing her with someone else is upsetting you that much, then maybe you should give it a try. All I will say on the matter is that you seemed genuinely happy when she was in your life. Just be honest with her. Lay all of your feelings out on the table and go from there.”

Harry took a breath, letting the words his mother said to sink in. He needed time to gather his thoughts. He needed to figure out everything he felt. He looked at his phone to see the time. It was 9 AM in London.

“It’s too early to call her right now,” he said, “It’s only 3 AM.”

“Don’t call her! Go to her!” Gemma threw her hands up.

“Honey, he just flew back home. He can just Facetime her or something.”

“Mom, it’ll be more romantic if he flies to her!” she shot back, turning to Harry, “Just go to her. You said you visited her family before. Do you remember where they lived?”

Harry sat up, intrigued by what his sister was saying, “Y-yeah, I think so. I have her family’s phone number, though. I could always get it.”

“Then go!”

Harry nodded, flustered trying to get up from his seat.

“Not this second, Harry,” Anne reached up to his arm with a laugh, “You can carry out your Romantic Comedy fantasy after breakfast.”

Harry laughed, nervously as the two of the girls he loved most in his life chuckled at him and took a swig of their coffees, nerves rushing through his veins. How could he eat now? He was too anxious.

KEEP READING

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

Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish​ , @stilljosiegrossie​ , @odetostep​ , @apples2019​ , @stylesmioamore​ , @inyourhaven​

[plugloveff]

Chapter 6

Cassidy: 

Looking down at my phone I rolled my eyes in annoyance at the 17 missed calls and 32 messages from Chris. Shoving my phone into the pocket of my sweatpants I motioned for Stephanie to pass me the blunt.

“What’s going on with you?” Chanel asked taking a sip of her drink.

“Chris is getting on my god damn nerves” I replied bringing the blunt to my lips and taking a long pull.

“How is that going? Y'all been together for what three years now ?” Aria asked

“Yeah, but I don’t know how much longer it’s going to last”

“Your just upset right now, you just need to calm down” Chanel said.

“Yeah” I replied but I knew the truth.

Chris was a great person and I knew he loved me, but I wasn't in love with him anymore. I hadn't been for a while now, I was just going through the motions. I didn't want to hurt him, I couldn't he didn't deserve it. Plus who left a man who loved them and treated them like a queen for no good reason. I just kept telling myself I was going through a faze and I was going to find that spark with Chris again. I mean I had to right?

“Cass” Chanel yelled

“Huh” I said snapping out of my thoughts.

“This is Cash, Meek’s cousin” she said pointing to the man who was now sitting next to me.

When my eyes locked on his my breath caught in my throat. Hazel eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't seem to speak. He's gorgeous, no men weren't gorgeous were they? I thought.

“Nice to meet you beautiful” he said smiling at me.

“You too ” I said but my voice came out hoarse.

Cash smirked at me and my entire body ignited like someone had set me on fire. This man was fine as hell and I didn't realize that we'd been having a staring contest until  Chanel cleared her throat breaking my trance.

When I looked up at her she was smirking at me and shaking her head. Looking away from her I picked up the bag of weed off the table and the rolling tray and stated rolling up. I needed to distract myself from looking at him and I could feel Cash's eyes on me.

“Yo Cash I’m coming to the shop this week I need a new tat” Wayne said.

“What you getting ?” Steph asked.

“You’ll see when it’s done” he replied.

“Just lemme know when, so I can squeeze you in” Cash replied.

“Where’s the lighter” I asked

“Here” Cash said pulling one out of his pocket.

Looking at him I took the lighter out of his hand and lit the blunt. "Thanks" I said taking a pull, I let the weed fill my lungs and rested my head back against the chair blowing the smoke out of my mouth.

I felt Cash's eyes boring into the side of my face “You wanna pull?” I asked.

Cash smirked and took the blunt from my hand. When his finger’s grazed against mine I felt like i'd been shocked. It must be the weed she thought.

We spent the next two hours smoking and talking. I felt a sense of comfort talking to Cash as if I’d known him my entire life. He was easy to talk to and he made me laugh. We were in their own bubble tuning out the rest of the group around us.

“Yo I’m so smacked, I feel like I’m talking too much” I said laughing.

“Nah you not, I like talking to you” Cash said leaning his head back against the chair and staring at me.

I felt hot all over again, the more he stared at me the hotter I got. And when he licked his lips I felt my center pulse. Oh no please no !!

“I should probably get going I got an early day tomorrow” I said sitting up.

“You good to drive ?” Cash asked

“Nah I came with Coco but I’ll take an Uber home I don’t look like she’s ready to go” I said looking at Chanel who was snuggled into Meek's lap.

“Nah I can take you home I’m bouta head out too” he said

“No that’s ok I don’t want to take you out of your way"

“Your not I offered Ma, come on” Cash said standing up.

Standing up I said my goodbye's and waited for Cash. “You ready?“ he asked.

“Yeah”

“Aye Cash tread light nigga that’s family” Meek called out to him but I saw the smirk on his face.

Cash chuckled and shook his head “Nigga I’m family” he replied as he lead me out of the backyard.

When we got to the driveway Cash opened the passenger door to a cherry red Ferrari.

“Aren’t you a gentlemen” I said as I slid into the buttery seats.

“Only for you” Cash said closing the door and getting into the driver’s side.

“Alright where we off to?” Cash asked when he was behind the wheel.

Telling him my address I rested my head against the window. The weed in my system had me super relaxed and it was only a matter of time before I fell asleep.

When we pulled onto the highway, Cash broke the silence. “You sleeping over their lil mama?“

“No I was about to but your loud ass interrupted me"

Cash laughed and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his deep laugh.

“You can’t fall asleep on me, I need you to entertain me” He said

“I look like a clown to you? Plus I’m losing beauty sleep right now"

“Nah you not a clown lil mama, and I'on think you need beauty sleep"

"And why is that?"

"Because you're already so beautiful” he replied.

I bit my lip trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread on my face. "You're real smooth, you say that to all the girls?"

"Nah only the one’s I’m really interested in” he replied.

“So your interested in me?"

"Hell yeah I’m tryna be invested though if you let me "

I couldn’t find the right words to say so I nodded my head and looked outside the window. I heard Cash laugh.

Pulling in front of my apartment I sighed and looked up at the tall building. "Thank you for the ride Cash” I said unbuckling my seat belt.

“Wait” Cash said putting his hand on my thigh.  “I was wondering if you could do something for me in return" he said.

"What?” I asked glaring at him.  

Cash smiled “Noting like that lil mama. Can I have your number? You know to work on my investment?” he asked.

I playfully rolled my eyes “Who said I was available?"

"Nobody but if you are he obviously ain’t doing his job right"

"Why would you say that?"

Cash leaned into me, his lips only inches away from mine. "Because I wouldn’t let your fine ass out of my sight if you were mine."

"Oh” I said feeling my pulse quicken.

Cash bit his lip and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “So them digit’s? You might as well give them to me cause I ain’t gone stop till I get them. All I gotta do is text Meek and they’re mine” he said.

“He wouldn’t"

"Oh but I’m very persuasive” Cash said.

I knew he was telling the truth because he was finessing me right now. I knew this was a bad idea but I took his phone and typed in my number. When I handed it back to him his smile was so cocky I rolled my eyes.

“Good night lil mama” Cash said cupping my chin in his hand and kissing my forehead.

"Goodnight Cash ” I said getting out of the car.

I quickly walked into my building fighting with myself not to turn back and look at him. When I got on the elevator I rested my head against the cold metal trying to calm myself down. My heart was pounding against my chest. What the fuck was that? I thought.

I went to sleep that night next to Chris but dreaming of Cash. And I knew I was in trouble.

Chanel: 

Stepping out of my Louboutin's I sighed feeling my feet hit the bare wood floor. My feet were killing me and I desperately wanted to take a hot bath and climb into bed with my man. Unfortunately for me I was the girlfriend of a gangster which meant most nights I went to bed alone.

Walking into my bedroom, I dropped my Birkin bag on the dresser. Noticing the balcony door opened I stepped out onto the patio. When I saw Robert standing on my balcony I paused.

"What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for a while. You have me blocked on everything and I’ve tried to get to you at work but Stephanie hasn’t let me talk to you. I got lucky that there’s a new guard downstairs and he let me up” Robert said.

“You wanna talk to me? You have 30 seconds make it fast” I said.

“Chanel I love you I know I fucked up believe me I know and I’m sorry about that if I could take it all back I would. But you not really with this nigga Chanel if you think I was bad what do you think a nigga like that is gonna do?” Rob said.

“He’s never given me a reason to think other wise Rob I can’t say the same for you though. And your thirty-seconds are up” I said.

“Just tell me do you love him more than me ?"

Rolling my eyes I shook my head. "You really want this answer?"

"Yes, if you do I promise I’ll leave you alone"

"Robert I loved you since I was 18 years old, you were my first real love. But I’ve never loved anyone the way that I love Meek” I said.

Robert looked at me stunned by my confession. “Oh okay then. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy Nel and if he makes you happy then I’ll fall back"

"Thank you"

"I just hope he realizes what he has and holds onto it before it’s too late”

“He knows” I replied.

Nodding his head Rob walked over to me and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Take care Chanel” he said before walking out.

When I heard the elevator doors close I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Stepping off the balcony I walking into my ensuite and set myself  a bath. Pulling my hair into a high bun on top of my head I connected my phone to my beats pill. Kehlani’s voice poured through the speaker as I sank into the tub.

The hot water eased my tense muscles.Closing my eyes I let out a deep breath and sank deeper into the tub. My mind replayed the last few minutes over and over again. I had finally closed the door on my relationship with Rob, he was my first so I knew I would always have love for him. But the love I felt for Ahmeek was different it was borderline obsessive, dangerous. Someone had already lost their life over it. And I wondered what or who else would pay the price of our love.

Then there was the detective who was looking into Jennifer’s disappearance. You mean murder.

Meek promised me that it was all taken care of but I still feared the worst.

That wasn’t the only thing that bothered me though. I knew that if the detective hadn’t told me; Meek wouldn’t have and that bothered me. He was so good at hiding it from me he didn’t even seem fazed by it. If he could hide that from me then what else would he hide from me?

I wanted to trust him but something told me that there was more to Ahmeek Brown than I knew and I wasn't sure how much I really know the man I slept next to every night.

I sat in the tub for almost an hour deep in thought and when the water got cold I quickly washed my body off and stepped out of the tub.

Throwing on some boy shorts and one of Meek’s shirt’s I climbed into bed. Glancing at my phone it was already 3 am. I was exhausted but my body fought to stay awake. I just needed to see him before I closed my eyes. Rolling over to his side of the bed I hugged his pillow. His scent still lingered on it and my body relaxed deeper into the mattress.

I was addicted to this man I needed him I craved him and on night’s like this when I couldn’t have him I felt uneasy.

Picking up my phone I sent him a quick text message.

Chanel: I love you, be safe and I’ll be waiting for you at home.

I didn’t wait for an answer because I knew he’d be busy. Gripping the pillow tighter I fell asleep.

                                                      ___________  

It’d been two days since I had heard or seen Meek and I was going crazy. I’d reached out to Dre and Wayne and they assured me that he was fine. Which turned my worry into rage, because it meant he was purposely avoiding me but I wasn’t sure why.

Sitting on the edge of my bed I fastened the straps of my Tom Ford heels. The girls were dragging me out of the house to get my mind off of Ahmeek. But there was no use my mind was constantly on Ahmeek he had infected my entire body and mind. Days without him had been torture for me.

Sighing I stood up from the bed and walked to my mirror. The distressed jeans and crop top I wore weren’t my normal club attire but I wasn’t in the mood to put any effort into my outfit.

Pulling my hair into a high ponytail I grabbed my wristlet and headed for the elevator. Reaching for my car keys, I noticed the keys for Meek’s Ferrari on the hook. Smirking I picked them up and stepped onto the elevator.

Pulling up in front of the club I noticed my friends waiting for me. Putting the car in park I stepped out of it and walked over to my friends.

“You wanna start a war tonight I see” Aria said.

“What are you talking about?” I asked smugly, I knew exactly what I was doing.

“You know someone’s gonna spot his car and snitch on your ass right?” Aria asked pointing to the custom car.

Shrugging my shoulders I walked into the club with Steph and Aria close behind.

I had plans to make a scene tonight, if Meek wasn’t gonna answer me. I was just going to have to get his attention another way.

Meek:

I clenched my jaw as Wayne pulled up in front of the club. When I saw my Ferrari parked on the corner my blood boiled. Wayne hadn’t even fully put the car in park before I hopped out.

“Where is she?” I asked the bouncer.

“Last time we had eyes on her she was by the bar” he said.

Nodding my head I stepped into the crowded club with Wayne and Dre on each side of him. I scanned the bar looking for Chanel.

"Aye we got action” Wayne motioned towards the end of the bar where Chanel, Aria and Steph were doing shots. My jaw clenched when I saw the man standing behind Chanel wrap his arm around her waist.

"Ah shit” Dre said shaking his head because he already knew what was going to happen next.

Pushing through the crowd I got to them so fast that Steph and Aria didn’t have a chance to warn her.

“If you like having your hand I would move it” I barked out.

I noticed how Chanel’s body stiffened when she heard my voice. When she turned to face me her eyes were red and low. She was high and from the empty shot glasses on the counter she was drunk as well.

“Oh now you care” she asked, leaning closer into the man’s arm with a smirk on her face.

Chanel was definitely drunk and she was testing my patience.

“Chanel let’s go” I said.

It was taking everything in me not to knock this man’s head off his shoulder’s and fling Chanel over my shoulder to my car.

“No, you ain’t speak to me for fucking day’s didn’t even check on me. For no reason now you think I’m just going to leave with you? No fuck you” Chanel spat. She was fuming, her eyes were wild and her breathing had picked up.

We glared at each other, the tension between us was  thick. Each one of us daring the other to do something.

“I'on think she wanna go with you my man” the man who lingered on Chanel said.

Breaking my eye contact with Chanel I glared at him. “What the fuck you just say to me ?” I asked taking a step closer to him.

Dre and Wayne watched on ready for whatever. That’s just how we rolled, if one bussed we all bussed.

“Yo I don’t mean no disrespect but she don’t seem like she wanna leave with you. Maybe you should just fall back” he said.

I let out a throaty chuckle, danger flashed in my eyes. As he locked one hand over the opposite wrist. I stared my opponent dead in the eyes.

“You see you’re trying to keep me from my girl and that is what I take as disrespect. Look around you, think about what you doing before you have your mama crying in all black ” I stated.

I didn’t want it to come to this because the clubbed was packed and I wasn’t one who believed in leaving witnesses. But if it came to it, I would handle it.

The man glanced around the club, he hadn’t noticed before the two men that sat on either end of the bar. Or that the guards all seemed to be staring at him. He was out numbered, this wasn’t a fight he wanted.

Nodding his head he glanced down at Chanel “take care of yourself” he said before walking away.

Chanel rolled her eyes at looked back at me. “You happy now? You ruined my fun” Chanel said.

“Let’s go now” I said reaching for her hand but Chanel snatched it back. “Don’t touch me” Chanel said pointing her finger in my face.

I had enough of Chanel’s attitude. Groaning I scooped her up and threw her over my shoulder.

“Pass me her bag?” I said while fighting to hold Chanel still.

Aria smirked and handed him Chanel’s bag. “Thank’s. I'mma hit y'all later” I said walking out of the club with Chanel screaming and punching at my back for me to put her down.

When they reached my car, I finally put her down. Opening the door I motioned for her to get in. Chanel stood still with her hand crossed against her chest.

“Chanel stop fucking playing with me and get in the fucking car” I barked at her.

Chanel rolled her eyes and slid into the passenger’s seat. Slamming the car door I got in on the driver’s side.

                                                      ___________________

“You gonna talk to me now, or you gonna keep acting like I don’t fucking exist” I asked.

“You wanna talk now? You been gone for two fucking days and now you wanna talk to me? I had to go to the club and make a scene to get your fucking attention ? My own boyfriend. So I don’t have shit else to say to you Ahmeek.” Chanel yelled.

“I needed to handle some stuff” I said

“So you didn’t think to let me know that?” Chanel asked.

“I needed to calm down before I came to you”

“Calm down for what?"

"I know you had him here” I said my jaw twitching.

“Who?"

"Bitch ass Rob"

Chanel looked at me for a few minutes and then started laughing. "This was because of Rob? Are you serious right now? He was here when I got home, I’ve been avoiding him for months and there’s a new guard downstairs who obviously didn’t know not to let his ass upstairs. But I told him that we were done and that I loved your dumb ass. He respected it and left he wasn’t even here for five fucking minutes"

"He shouldn’t have been here"

"No shit I just said he was here when I got home. So that’s why you been ignoring me? Instead of opening your fucking mouth and actually talking to me” Chanel shook her head and walked out of her room.

I followed behind her. “I’m trying to handle you differently. I don’t wanna be barking at you and fighting with you so I needed a couple days. And then you pull this shit tonight, you testing me Chanel on god you testing a nigga. I was so close to turning that nigga lights out” I said running a hand through my waves.

“You can’t be hurting people because of me” Chanel said.

“I don’t know how else to get this anger out. Two nigga’s already lost they lives cause I was in a bad mood because of you” I said.

Chanel sighed and shook her head. “Talk to me first, if it’s not needed and it’s just because your mood is sour talk to me Ahmeek. I’m not here just to lay down with you I’m here to be your sounding board, if there’s something on your mind or something that’s bothering you tell me I’m here. But please don’t shut me out again. Because I’m gonna be petty and you’re gonna be mad. It’s a dangerous cycle"

"Loving you is dangerous ma. Because for you I’ll do anything” I said.

Chanel’s anger softened. Walking over to me she wrapped her arms around my waist. “25 to life with you pa. I love you” Chanel said.

I sighed and planted a kiss on her forehead. “25 to life” I said.

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

Don’t Call Me Daisie Mae.

WARNINGS” honestly I don’t know, I’m so tired. Read at your own risk.

Daisie Mae Grady, the daughter of the late Michael Marsden Grady, a military man with a big heart. She was her father’s baby, his world, his sun and his moon. He was her knight in shining armor, her protector. He also taught her a lot of self-defense and to ‘take no shit’.

As she pulls into the lot of the Romero Brothers Scrapyard, she finds the nerves eating away at her. Her father had told her so many beautiful stories about Santo Padre, but she didn’t even really have a chance to look as she was busy finding this hole-in-the-wall bar place her father had spoken of so many times. Stepping out of her car, she takes in the view around her. The dustiness floating around her like smoke, the crinkled up car parts and twisted metal, the short man blowing spitballs at a big man with full sleeves. He misses the big, burly man and hits her directly in the neck.

“Oh shit!”

“Goddamn it Coco! She hasn’t been here five minutes!”

“My bad!” The smaller man calls as he pushes his tousled hair from his eyes and waves. The thinner man was sort of charming, with his crooked nose and impish grin, childlike behavior.

“It’s alright!” She waves with a giggle, heading up the steps. Coco, as she’s recalled, jogs up to her, pushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“You at the right place, Ma?” He asks, very serious.

“I think so, Romero Brothers? Mayans MC hangout?” She asks, looking at the door and waving to the plaque on the door. Her southern twang catches Coco off guard and he just grins at her for a moment.

“Ah, you here for someone?”

“Obispo Losa, actually.” She nods, smoothing down her thighs. With a quick nod, he swings open the door waving her through.

“Thanks, darlin’.” She drawls, sashaying in front of him. His eyes trail down her curves and come to land on her butt as she heads towards the bar.

“Damn, ma.” Coco calls as she looks over her shoulder at him.

“I’m sorry?” She asks, a little smirk on her pink lips.

“You are fine, ma.” Coco winks, lightly smacking her butt, making her jump and squeak.

“Well, bless your heart.” She drawls, and Coco just nods.

“That’s code for you’re a dumbass.” Bishop chides as he reaches out and pulls her into a hug. “I’m real sorry about your dad, darlin’. He was a good man.” He murmurs, gripping her tight. Bishop’s hug felt so much like her father’s that as he leaned back she couldn’t help but hold on a little longer. As she lets go and swipes quickly at her cheeks, she meets his smile with a grin. “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby. Your dad wouldn’t even hold you, said he didn’t want to risk breaking you. You here for the job?” He asks, nodding to the bar.

“Yeah, actually. I’m gonna settle in Santo Padre for a while. Pop used to blabber about it all the time so I figured I’d come see what the fuss was about.” Bishop laughs at her slick remark, shaking his head. “Is there a certain uniform?” She asks as she follows Bishop back behind the bar.

“No, you can wear what you like. I’ll get you a yard shirt in case we put you on any yard shifts.” He disappears a moment, giving her a second to process things. She takes in the bar her.

“Yo Bish! I gotta talk to you!” She turns and faces the owner of the gravelly voice. She could swear her heart stops as she lays eyes on the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life. Angel assesses the woman standing before him. Short, about five feet, five inches, blue eyes, round face, beautiful look honey blonde hair pulled back into a thick braid. He takes in her long, bell bottom jeans and sunflower top, a pair of black cowboy boots poking out from under her sweeping pant legs.

“What the hell is that?” He asks Coco, waving nonchalantly at her. “Some kind of Daisie Mae from Alabama?” He hisses, glowering at her. Just then, Bishop comes storming in, handing her the green shirt.

“Here’s your uniform. She’s not just any Daisie Mae, she is Daisie Mae. Daughter of a friend. She works here.” Bishop barks, jamming a finger into his chest. “And she will be respected.”

“Daisie Mae.” He snorts, shaking his head and heading to the bar for a drink. “Hey Daisie Mae? You started your shift yet?” The man calls, perched on the barstool with his back to her. She takes a moment to drink in his hunched over form, the red checked shirt he had buttoned up to his collar.

“I haven’t. But I’m sure it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to pull a beer out of a fridge.” She drawls, swinging her hips a little extra as she sashays around the bar and swings open the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle from the door, twisting off the cap with her bare hand and sliding it over to him with a wink.

“Weird.” He huffs, taking a long pull before his eyes lift to hers for a second, before he gently shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, Daisie Mae, come here really quick.” Bishop calls from his seat on the couch, glasses on his head as he looks through some papers. “Have a seat, hun.” He pats the couch with a chuckle. Angel watches over his shoulder as she all but sits in his lap, close enough to him that she laughs when he wraps her in his arms and hugs her tightly.

“Gross. You two get a fuckin’ room.” Angel chides, rolling his eyes. Bishop watches her blush and she quickly pulls away from him.

“Angel! Get the fuck out!” Bishop strikes the table with his fist and jams a finger at the door.

“Sorry, Bish.” He mutters, grabbing his beer and heading outside.

“Sorry about him. He’ll grow on you.” Bishop nudges her shoulder with his and she gives a shy smile. “He already has, huh?” He plays, poking her sides.

“He’s cute, that’s all.” She giggles, waving her hands.

“Sure.” He chuckles, sliding some papers over for her to sign. She finishes up for the day and heads out to her truck and grabs the door handle just as she hears a shout from across the yard.

“Yo! Ma! Where you stayin’ tonight?” Coco calls as he jogs over, swiping his hair from his eyes.

“No. Do not.” Angel barks, grabbing Coco’s arm. Coco gives a ‘psh’ and yanks his arm away.

“Yo! We got an extra room? We could rent it out to you.” Coco smiles as he wanders up to her, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Thank you, Coco. But your friend doesn’t like that idea. I ‘d hate to impose on y’all.” She smiles, patting his shoulder.

“Girl, fuck him. He ain’t never there anyway.” He waves Angel off with a single swipe of his hand.

“Aw, hun. Thank you, but-“

“I insist, ma.” He grabs her hand, kissing her knuckles and earning a sweet giggle.

“Alright, fine then. But one wrong move and I’ll drop that sum’bitch.” She threatens sweetly.

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles, opening her door and letting her follow him home. She heads in and Coco helps her carry in her bags. “Yo, drop that shit, I’ll get you some groceries. C’mon!” Coco calls, letting her follow him to his car.

“Hot damn! A nineteen-sixty-three Chevy II Nova!” Her voice fires off full of giddiness.

“Hot damn! mamacita knows her cars.” Coco calls, slamming a hand to his chest in an overdramatic gesture.

“Just a little. My daddy was a mechanic.” She smiles, waiting as Coco steps up and swings open her door. “A true gentleman.” She laughs, mimicking his earlier hand to chest.

“Hush and get in.” He rolls his eyes as he slides across the hood and gets in. They head to the grocery store and she grabs a lot of fruits, vegetables, some chicken, pasta, tortillas, and they head for the check out. As he cruises home, he looks over at her and grins when he finds her with the window down and a big smile on her face. “‘Aye ma? You’re gorgeous. Anyone ever tell you that?” He asks as he still drives.

“Not really.” She gives a shy smile, her cheeks turning pink.

“Hey, about Angel, you’ll warm up to him. He’s kind of an asshole but he gets nicer the longer her knows you.” He assures, patting her knee.

“Sure, why does everyone keep saying that?” She asks, looking over at him as he pulls into the driveway.

“He likes you, we can all tell. And you clearly like him.” He raises his brows at her, poking her side.

“I do not!” She cries, laughing as Coco tickles her side.

“Sure.” He laughs as he gets out and grabs her grocery bags. As they walk in, Angel pads out to the kitchen in his boxer-briefs. Coco heads down the hall to his room. Without a word, Angel’s hand grips her hip as he slides behind her into the kitchen. Gulping and stiffening straight as a board, Angel chuckles, looking over his shoulder at her with a smug grin. Grabbing a bottle of water, he heads back, but this time as he slides behind her, he grabs both hips and squeezes, whispering in her ear.

“Sorry, lemme get past you, querida.” His low, rough voice in her ear sending shivers down her spine. His fingers graze her lower back as he walks away. Her eyes follow the swing of his hips as he disappears down the hallway, Coco appearing a moment later in sweatpants, no shirt.

“Gross, I’ll make him put some clothes on.” Coco groans until he looks and sees her flushed cheeks. “Or I won’t.” He laughs, looking over his shoulder and whistling.

“Shush, you want dinner? I’d love to cook for ya’ll.” She drawls, grabbing the chicken out of the fridge, the peppers, onions, to make a stir fry.

“Nah, it’s good.”

“I insist!” She cheers, putting together a dinner and grabbing the small tortilla shells to make fajitas. “Coco! Angel!” She calls, “dinner!” Angel and Coco come into the kitchen smiling, digging in.

“Thanks, Daisie Mae.” Angel huffs, his mouth full.

“My pleasure.” She smiles, filling her own plate and finding a seat on the couch. Angel flops next to her, letting his hip rest against hers as he stuffs the fajita into his mouth.

“Hey!” She barks as he grabs a fajita off her plate and takes a bite, a mischievous grin on his face as he finishes his bite.

“You love it.” He chuckles, patting her knee before he gets up and heads to the kitchen. Coco smiles at her and nods, loving every bit of the playfulness between the new girl and Angel. He didn’t normally open up like that, but Coco put it up to her sweet accent and innocent demeanor. Angel appears a moment later with two fajitas and drops one on her plate.

“Thanks.” She smiles, eating the fajita and heading to the kitchen. Angel appears next to her, working around her to wash the dishes in the sink and he grabs the sprayer from the sink and sprays her. She lets out a happy squeal, sticking her hands out to stop the water.

“Oh shit! I knew that was broken.” He chuckles, sneaking a side glance at her for a second before going back to doing the dishes at the sink. Popping open the freezer, she grabs an ice cube. Tossing the cube down Angel’s sweats, she spins on her heel and runs away giggling. Coco just sits on the couch shaking his head. Coco hears a happy squeal and peeks down to see Angel’s hulking figure wrapped around her and carrying her towards him.

“Coco!” She cries, letting Angel toss her over his shoulder and carry to her to the couch. “Coco!” She squeals, reaching for him. He puts his hands up in mock surrender, letting the two work it out. Angel drops her onto the soft cushions, tickling her sides and reveling in the sweet ring of her giggle. Coco’s phone rings, and he he snags it while disappearing down the hall.

“So tell me, Querida. You’re from Texas?” He asks, sitting up and letting her up.

“Yeah.” She nods, straightening her shirt as Coco comes out fully dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, kutte hung on his shoulders like a banner. Without a spoken word between the two, Angel rises to his feet and heads down the hall, appearing a moment later fully dressed.

“Yo chica, we gotta go. Not sure when we’ll be back but I’ll make sure to call you when we know.” He assures.

“Okay, is it dangerous?” She mutters, looking at the ground. Angel is the first to pull her against him in a gentle hug.

“Don’t worry about us, Querida.” He chuckles, grabbing the door handle and heading outside. Coco pulls her in, gripping her tight.

“We are the big bad Mayans. We’re good, ma. Don’t worry.” He assures, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead before he heads out the door, stopping before he shuts the door completely and she hears murmurs behind the door. Angel steps back in, heading to his room and appearing a moment later with a pistol.

“Okay, querida. The safety’s on right now. Just click it off, point and shoot at whatever comes through that door that doesn’t introduce itself. Okay?” He asks, handing it over to her. “Be careful, okay?” He whispers, kissing her forehead before he slips back out. The bikes roar to life and they pull away from the house, leaving her alone with the pistol and silence.

Her alarm wakes her with a fresh start around six- forty-five in the morning and she heads to the kitchen for some coffee. By seven thirty she’s starting a smoothie when she hears someone grunt behind her. Whipping around, she finds Angel standing there in his boxer briefs.

“Good morning!” She sings, handing him a cup of coffee before whisking away to her blender.

“Querida. It’s seven in the morning. We got home at three. Why are you running a generator? Did the power go out?” He grumbles, reaching around her and grabbing her hands, placing them at her sides.

“It’s not a generator, it’s just a blender. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were home already but you have a yard shift at nine. Did you want a smoothie?” She asks, looking to him. He groans loudly, disappearing back to his room. She giggles a little and fills a bowl for him, not sure if he was returning. A few minutes later, Angel appears in his jeans and work shirt, looking at her through sleepy eyes. Without a second thought, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her down to his lap.

“Listen, I can tell you like me. So tell me,” he nuzzles her neck with his warm nose, sending chills down her spine. Slipping from his grip, she grabs his smoothie bowl, sprinkling on some granola and handing it to him.

“Enjoy! You’re training me on yard shifts today.” She giggles, sitting next to him and stuffing a bite into her mouth. He grunts in response, too busy eating. Scampering off to change, she puts on a little mascara and a pair of bootcut jeans that hugged her thighs, tying back her hair into a huge bun and tying a black bandana over her head and tugs on her Romero Brothers shirt, tying it at her waist. Fiddling with the tie in the front, she smooths her jeans down and nods, heading back out to the kitchen. Angel almost chokes on a small piece of granola seeing her. She looks beautiful.

Almost a week passes as she gets comfortable in her new home. Angel pads into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from his eyes and greeting her with a squeeze to her shoulder.

“Hey, we have a run today.” Angel coos, resting his chin on her shoulder as he looks over to see what she’s cooking.

“You guys gonna be gone long?” She asks, turning to face him.

“I’m not sure. Might be a couple days though. We gotta go to Mexico.” He takes a raspberry and smashes it against her cheek.

“Argh, Angel!” She whines, grabbing the kitchen towel as he leaves the kitchen, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. Appearing a moment later with jeans, green button up and his kutte.

“Well, do I look okay?” He asks, shifting his vest a little.

“Nah.” She giggles, heading towards him and fixing his hair before smearing black raspberry across his face.

“Goddammit.” He groans, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen.

As Angel approaches the shop, he parks his bike and heads in. Bishop sees the black raspberry on his cheek and snorts.

“Y’all get kinky before you left?” He chuckles, pointing the the smudged black spot on his face.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin?” He barks, licking his thumb and scrubbing it off.

“It’s gone now.” Angel shakes his head as they head into Templo. When they come out, Angel sees her standing off to the side with EZ chatting and laughing. Angel takes a moment to soak her in, in her bell bottoms and tank top knotted at her waist. Her smile was from ear to ear and EZ was holding his sides. Striding over, he joins the party.

“Hey. What are you here for? You work today?” He asks, hooking an arm lazily around her shoulder.

“Yeah, Bish called me and asked if I’d take over while you’re gone.” She smiles, involuntarily leaning in against his warmth. Bishop’s eye is caught by the two standing in the corner, Angel’s arm around her shoulder, her tucked so nicely under his arm.

“Hey you two lovebirds, you wanna break it up over there?” Bishop shouts, watching them separate momentarily, her whisking away to the bar. Finding ways to keep herself busy, she watches as everyone heads for the door, each Mayan stopping to tell her bye. Angel was last, pulling her into a hug.

“Be careful. Gun’s under the bar.” He whispers, smacking her butt and sauntering out.

“Be careful Angel!” She calls as the door goes shut.

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursdsay

Friday morning, as she heads to the shop to open up at seven thirty, and she greets Chucky at the door.

“The club should be back this morning.” He states, giving her a weird smile. Giving a nod, she lets them both into the clubhouse. “Angel is very vulnerable around you.” Chucky blurts as he makes coffee.

“I’m sorry?” She looks across the counter from her stack of books, face screwed up.

“He is very vulnerable around you. Normally he’s very guarded. He doesn’t let down that wall so easily. But you just blew on it and it crumbled like a sandcastle that’s dried all day on the beach.” She just stares at him for a minute before heading back to the back to open the door for the local scrapper Guillermo, a small Mexican man with a huge laugh.

“Morning Mo!” She calls, waving him through onto the scale. “What do you have for us today?” She smiles as she leans onto his window sill, handing him the clipboard.

“Just alimunum querida. You and that biker a thing yet?” He asks, as if he’d read Chucky’s mind.

“Not you too.” She groans, pushing off the truck with her clipboard.

“Que, corazon? If he won’t take you out, I will!” He calls to her. She just laughs, meeting his smiling eyes. With his tag filled out, she hands it to him.

“If you were ten years younger, I might let you.” She chuckles as he grips her knuckles and kisses them, his grey mustache tickling the sensitive skin. “Pull forward, you big lug. Got a couple guys down there to unload it.” She laughs as he drives away. Pulling on her yard shirt, she grabs her gloves and heads down. After unloading Mo’s truck, they head inside, Mo leaving with a huge grin as he waved.

“Jeez, Chuck! It’s almost noon!” She cheers, pulling out the lunch meat from the fridge.

“Wash your grubby hands, querida.” He barks without ever turning around from his bills. She lets out a laugh as she looks down at her blackened hands, and heads to the sink. “Bishop called. He says they’re on their way back. You and Angel could—“

“Lemme stop you there, darlin’. Me and Angel ain’t doin’ nothing.” She nips back, making herself and Chucky a sandwich.

“Well fine. But don’t cry to me when Angel is deep into another women.” She chokes on her own saliva and looks at Chucky wide eyed.

“Did you—did you just crack a joke Chucky?” She deadpans, dropping his sandwich on his desk.

“I am very humorous. You might not see it, but—“

“Chucky! Chuck! Goin’ in for the kill!” She cheers, hoisting him from the chair and lifting him in the air. Chucky is laughing, so is she when the crew comes in the door, seeing Chucky hoisted over her shoulder, both too busy laughing to hear them.

“Christ, Chucky’s converted her to the weird side.” Angel chuckles, slipping passed them and grabbing her sandwich off the counter and taking a bite.

“Angel!” She barks, sitting Chucky on his feet and reaching for her sandwich, which Angel holds above his head in taunting.

“She lift a grown—man into the air, but she can’t reach anything on the top shelf.” Angel chuckles, watching as she climbs onto the bar and tackles him to ground, grabbing her sandwich off the floor and blowing off the dirt.

“She can reach anything she puts her mind to, but she’s not very intuitive on other people’s feelings.” Chucky chides, eyes boring into the paperwork.

“Man Chucky! Two for two!” She cheers, patting him on the back as she takes a bite of her sandwich, heading out the yard.

“Angel Reyes, you better watch out for Mo. He’s trying to court your woman.” It’s Angel’s turn to flush, staring at Chucky in disbelief and confusion. “He offered to court her, and he kissed her hand.” The weird little man states matter of factly. Angel gives Coco and Gilly a knowing look, and they all grin.

“Thanks Chucky,” Angel chuckles, disappearing to the yard.

“So, you and Mo, huh?” He asks, leaning against the post of the weigh in station. Jumping, her last bite of sandwich hits the ground and glares up at him.

“Fuckin’ christ.” She heaves, her hand over her heart in attempt to calm it down.

“Chucky says Mo is trying to steal my woman.” His voice is low and smooth as he steps closer to her, crouching to eye level.

“He-he did what?” She stammers, taking a drink of Gatorade and gulping loudly.

“Is that true? Mo is trying to steal you?” He hushes, his lips inches from hers.

“N-no. He’s just a flirt.” She manages to get out, tapping her toes on the ground to expel the pent up anxiety. Angel’s intoxicating sent, the sweet smell of cigarette smoke drawing her in. Her eyes drift shut as Angel gets an inch closer, ghosting his lips over hers. Within seconds his lips are on hers and he’s standing, hauling her against the wall.

Moments later, Coco and Gilly are snapping photos of the two. Coco’s favorite is her shocked looking over Angel’s shoulder. Her eyes meet Angel’s as he chuckles, stepping away from her. Swiping his thumb across her bottom lip he slips out of the weigh shed and she looks on at Coco and Gilly, confused as to what just happened.

“He bet us that he could make out with you. Had Chucky planting some shit in your head.” She hiccups at Coco’s words, remembering Chucky this morning saying ‘Angel is vulnerable around her’. He hadn’t meant it.

“You guys just—it was all just a prank?” She whispers, staring at them as the tears come filling her eyes. Blinking them away, she stares at the now guilty looking men standing in front of her.

“It was just a joke. I told him there’s no way you’d let him make out with you when he got back. You barely know him.” Coco tries to explain himself but it doesn’t help. She’d trusted Angel with secrets and suddenly they weren’t safe. All the times he playfully pulled her into his lap or the late nights he cuddled with her on the couch while they watched a movie.

“Angel Reyes!” She shrieks as she storms towards the clubhouse. “You are a son of a bitch!” She hisses, slapping him across the face in front of everyone. Stalking over to Chucky, she grabs him by the collar and hauls him against the wall. “And if you so much as talk to me in the next week, I’ll strangle you with your own goddamn shoelace. Got me?” She growls, watching the little strange man nod.

“Hey, Daisie-“ She spins on her heel and jabs a finger into his chest.

“Don’t.” With that she leaves the clubhouse, leaving the older men of the club in shock, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Angel-“

“Shit.” He murmurs, following her on his bike back to the house. He gently walks in, afraid to scare her. “Ma?” He calls, ducking as a shoe whizzes past him and hits the door. Maneuvering down the hall, avoiding the flying objects, he peeks into her room to find her slamming things into her suitcase. Frowning, he stands and stalks over, grabbing her hands.

“Let go!” She shouts, yanking her hands away from him.

“Daisie Mae-“

“Don’t Angel.” She nips, finishing her packing.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, gripping her hands in his once more. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was just a friendly bet, mi amor.” He murmurs.

“Well it did hurt. I told you things no one else knows about me. And then, when I’m supposed to trust you this is how you treat me. Christ Angel.” She mutters, trying to pull her hands away.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor. Let me make it up to you.” He whispers, pulling her away from her bags. “Let me kiss you, no one is here.” He murmurs against her lips. Against her better judgement, she lets him press a kiss to her lips.

“Jesus, come on.” She pushes him away from her and grabs her bag.

“Hey hey hey, no.” He calls, grabbing her bag from her.

“Angel, let go.” She mutters under her breath, tugging weakly on the bag.

“No, I’m sorry. Okay?” He asks.

“Okay. Now let go.” She tugs her bag from his hands and heads out to her car.

“Hey! Please!” He calls, trying to stop her. Chills run down his spine as she slams her trunk.

“I just need some space!” She calls, hopping into her car and starting it. Angel stands in the driveway, his heart pounding heavily against his chest. His feet are cemented in one spot as he watches her leave. His favorite person to see after a long day was leaving. Everyone always left him. He always drove them away. He heads inside and pulls a beer from the fridge, taking a moment to look over the little Polaroid on the fridge of the two in the kitchen that Coco took.

“Angel?” Coco asks as he steps inside. The smaller man’s eyes land on his roommate sitting on the couch, blanket pulled under his arm and a beer in his hand. “Shit man, did she leave?” He asks hesitantly. Angel only looks up, his eyes meeting Coco’s, heartbroken. “I’m sorry.” He hushes, heading down the hall to his room.

Morning comes all too early, Angel wakes to hear rustling and clanking in the kitchen. Joy fills his heart, excitement fills him as he all but sprints to the kitchen. She came home.

“Morning.” A deep voice answers.

“Holy fuck!” Angel barks, grabbing his pistol and training it on the large man standing in his kitchen. “Who the fuck are you?” He nods.

“Cole.” The man responds, putting down the milk. “Heard you got some drugs to run. Is it the club?”

“Nah, just me.”

“Personal gig. I like it. You got it here?”

“Nah, but I can get it here in an hour.” Angel sits in the chair.

“You move your shit through tunnels. I like it. Say, I was here the other day, but the only person here was a cute little lady. Heavy sleeper though.” He chuckles, watching Angel stand at once, fists clenched at his sides and jaw taut.

“You leave her out of this.” He seethes, watching the man laugh once more.

“Yikes, see. I figure if we have something important, you’re less likely to screw this up. She’s in Mexico, actually, in a little villa. Got a friend I need you to bring back, then we’ll talk about the drugs. And if you don’t bring him back, your girl dies.” He nods, taking a sip from the jug once more.

“You wouldn’t fuckin’ hurt her for no reason.” He says, more for himself than Cole.

“See, I wouldn’t. But I’m here with you. And she’s in Mexico with a trigger happy ex-marine with a habit of killing civilian women. So anything’s possible. I’ll text you the address.” With that, Cole leaves as quickly as he appeared, Angel sitting on the couch hyperventilating. Grabbing his phone, he calls EZ and Coco.

“Cole and his ex military goons have Daisie Mae in Mexico.”

“Alright, what do we do?” EZ asks.

“Meet me at the bronco in twenty minutes.” He slams his phone shut and yanks on a pair of jeans and her favorite shirt of his, the red plaid, buttoned up to his neck.

They arrive at the address in almost six hours and as Angel heads up the stairs he sees what looks like Daisie Mae storming away from the scene.

“Ma!” He shouts, clambering from the truck an sprinting towards her.

“Well it took you long enough!” She barks as he gets closer. His feet don’t stop until he’s standing in front of her. Grabbing her shoulders without another word, he yanks her into his grip, arms tightening around her.

“Christ.” He hums against her hair, so content that she’s close to him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until now. His chest heaves against her, his heart slamming as he holds her tighter a second longer.

“Jesus christ, Angel. Chill out.” She chuckles, pushing him away from her.

“You don’t understand, some dude broke in and threatened you.” He murmurs, toeing the ground with his boot.

“I do understand. I was fucking kidnapped.” She laughs, heading to the bronco.

“You just wait there for us, okay ma?” He calls as she climbs in. Ez appears almost an hour later without Angel, he climbs in the truck and they floor it for the border.

“Where’s Angel?” She asks, looking behind them.

“They kept him prisoner until we come back.” EZ shouts over the rattling of the truck on the bumpy dirt road.

Once they return with Adelita, they all get out and run up the steps inside.

“Angel?” She calls, looking around.

“Ma! Go outside!” He shouts from his position leaned up against the wall. Huffing, she disappears to the truck to wait. As her eyes land on Angel sauntering out, the Adelita woman grabs his face and plants a kiss on his lips. Her heart stutters, hammering against her chest in raw pain. She was so in love with him and she thought he felt the same. Guilt clouds his beautiful honey eyes as they land on her in the front seat. Quickly averting her eyes to the windshield, EZ, Angel, and his girl all climb in at once. EZ pats her knee, giving her a sweet smile.

“Damn, two people kidnapped in one day. Let’s get the fuck outta here.” He chuckles, shifting into drive and heading for Santo Padre.

Six hours in the car seems like days and she grows more and more anxious by the second. She couldn’t wait to get out of the stuffy, hot vehicle. The minute they get back, she all but stumbles from the vehicle and starts sprinting away. A few minutes later she hears the familiar rumble of Angel and EZ’s bikes.

“Hey, it’s another three miles to Romero’s. Climb on!” Angel shouts as they pull up next to her. She ignores him as he calls to her. “Hey! Daisie Mae!” He shouts, parking his bike and jogging to catch up.

“Angel, just go. It’s not that far.” She barks, pushing away his outstretched hands.

“No.” He growls, grabbing her, holding her arms against her sides. “If you don’t remember, the last time I let you go you got fucking kidnapped.” He nips in her ear as he carries her to his bike. She swings her foot down and connects with his knee, rolling away from him and standing up, brushing the dirt off.

“I got kidnapped because of you.” She growls, jabbing a finger down at him.

“I know, but I can’t let it happen again. You know that!” He stands up, reaching for her hand.

“Well, let me tell you. I’ll ride to Romero. But I don’t promise anything from there.” She hisses, stomping to his bike and waiting expectantly for him. He climbs on, letting her use his shoulder as a brace while she swings one toned leg over the bike. Gripping the handle between the seats as he kicks the bike to life.

“Hey, hold on to me, that handle’s broken.” He calls over the roar of the engine. Huffing her disapproval, she snakes her arms around him and holds tightly as Angel floors it for the yard.

“Christ, could you drive any slower?” She yells as he turns onto the road for the yard.

“I could!” He shouts back, slowing down to a snail’s pace and swerving back and forth to keep them righted. The minute he stops in the yard, she bails off and storms for the door.

“Ugh! I never want to see you again Angel Reyes!” She shrieks, stomping into his face as he calls after her.

“What did I do? What happened?” He asks, staring at her.

“First of all, that little prank. You played with my emotions and my feelings Angel! You did that! I wouldn’t dare hurt you that way. Next, I was kidnapped and dragged to Mexico because of you! And to top it all off, you and that Adelita!” She swings a hand at the woman standing off to the side. “She likes you, Angel! And so do I!” She shrieks, grabbing her purse from under the counter and heading out the door.

”Ma! Wait!” Angel shouts, trying to follow her, but Bishop and Taza stop him.

“Let her go. She’ll go back to Texas, find someone else.” Bishop murmurs, shaking his head. An hour passes in silence, Angel sitting at the bar downing beers like water, when the door opens.

“Is Bishop here?” She asks so gently, he’d almost thought he’d imagined it until he looked over his shoulder.

“Bish!” Angel shouts, ordering a shot. Bishop appears from the back room and slips his glasses to the top of his head and strides the room to meet her.

“I’m heading back to Texas, just wanted to say bye.” She murmurs, letting Bishop pull her into a hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, little scrapper.” He chuckles, his knuckles brushing her cheek gently before he heads out the door with her. “I’m sorry about Angel, he did mean the best.” He assures as he pops open her door. Just as she nods, a small paper wad hits her in the face.

“Aw shit, my bad!” Coco shouts, jogging over to her. “You headin’ out?” He asks, and all she can do is nod. “Well damn, ma. I’m sorry to see you go, but we all got plans.” He smiles, yanking her into a warm hug.

“I’ll see ya later, Coco.” She chuckles as she hears a shout from the clubhouse and Chucky sprinting towards her.

“I’m gonna miss you, my fine little Daisie Mae.” He mutters, hugging her rather tightly.

“I’m gonna miss you too, jokester.” She smiles, patting the weird little man’s shoulder. “I’ll see you guys later.” She smiles as she climbs in her car and heads for Texas.

Six months pass, and her friends convince her to road trip with them, though they won’t tell her where. They’d given her hints, but her closest guess was San Francisco or Santo Madre, which she was rather unimpressed about.

“Hunni, it’s gonna be fun.” Jess assures, with a sweet smile, her green eyes twinkling in the sunlight as they arrive in a little town on the beach.

“I guess you’re right.” She chuckles, heading inside to put her things away in the little cabin they rented for a week. After putting away her things, she finds herself wondering about those sweet Mayans.

“Girl, come on. There’s tons of cute guys on the beach.” Groaning, she puts on her bikini and heads out, sun hat slapped on her head and sunglasses on her nose. She supposed she was ready for a cute guy to take her out. As they get to the beach, a frisbee is launched at her head, but she ducks instantly (having spent so much time with Coco). The frisbee clobbers Jess in the face and she shrieks, falling backwards into the sand and starts cackling.

“Boy that’s a welcome to California if I ain’t never been here.” She drawls, standing and brushing the sand off.

“Aw shit, my bad!” That voice. She turns slowly, afraid she’ll see exactly what she sees. Coco, Gilly, EZ, and the whole fucking crew jogging their way.

“Goddammit Coco! This is why we never come to the beach.” Bishop shakes his head and she can’t help the laugh that escapes.

Angel had been sitting on the beach towel in the shade, not feeling like doing much. As Coco launched frisbee to Angel, he totally missed and the wind caught it, launching it into a group of giggling girls. Angel rolls his eyes as his fellow brothers jog over there to check on the girl when he hears that laugh. Like music to his ears, a song he heard once on the radio finally being replayed. He knew that laugh. Peering across the beach to group of women, his heart all but stops when his eyes land on her.

She searches the crowd around them for Angel as her friends start to mingle amongst the men, getting them invited to a party at the clubhouse tonight.

“He’s over there.” Coco nudges her and points to the towel under the tree. A small gasp escapes her lips as she drinks in the beauty that is Angel Reyes. His caramel skin, his ebony hair and scruffy face, his sweet honey orbs, the muscles, the tattoos, she was so in love with him. His eyes seemed to be fixed on the beach, so she takes the opportunity to go over there while her friends were distracted.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes. In the flesh.” She coos, sitting next to him with a little smirk. He looks over at her for a moment, taking in her lack of coverage and how warm and tanned her skin looked. He wanted to taste her.

“Hey there, ma. You thrivin’ out there in Texas?” He asks, looking back to the rolling blue water.

“I guess. You and Adelita married yet?” She asks, looking at him.

“Nah, I cut it off with her. It’s just me anymore. I missed you.” He murmurs, looking into her eyes for a second, the weakness showing in his tired eyes.

“I missed you too.” She whispers, attacking him with a hug. Straddling his legs she wraps her arms around his neck and holds tight as Angel hugs her waist, leaning back on the towel and rolling on his side.

“Querida, I love you. I love you so much.” He whispers, pressing little kisses to her cheeks.

“You do?”

“Yeah, ma. I love you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry I was so stupid. I missed you so much. I love you, please. Let me kiss you.” He whispers. She nods, letting his hands grip her ass as he presses a hot kiss to her lips.

“I love you too, Angel.” She whispers, kissing his cheeks and nose.

“Thank god. You gonna come home now?” He asks, his eyes hopeful.

“Sure, I think I could do that. But, I have one demand.” She croons, nuzzling his nose with hers.

“What’s that, mi amor?”

“Roommates, but I want to share a room. And a life with you.” She nods.

“Done.” He murmurs, hugging her and rolling through the sand with a huge smile.

TAGLIST:

@woahitslucyylu @gemini0410 @starrynite7114 @claytoncardenasbabymama @phoenixhalliwell @angelreyesgirl89 @angelreyesgirl @dazzledamazon @cind-in-real-life @whyisgmora @trhett21 @ifoundmyhappythought @choppedgalaxynerd-blog-blog