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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

Hi!

I just wanted to say that I absolutely love all of your COD fics! Your Price fics made me fall in love with him (I saw a recommendation for See No Evil on TikTok and just went down the rabbit hole from there (it’s also my comfort fic)) and Laughing Poets made me buy Ghosts for Keegan. Your writing is so beautiful and poetic and has inspired me to start writing again after a really bad writing’s block!

I also did want to put in a request for Ghost (because I love him so much) but given his hype, I understand if you don’t want to write for him or if it may be hard. But I was hoping that this hasn’t been done before (much) and that I could read it in your words since you are so amazing!

I was thinking of the reader being a CIA agent that was working undercover to get classified information and 141 was sent in to extract her after she was compromised. And her and Ghost don’t really get along at first, like they don’t hate each other but they could just care less about one another. But then they get separated and one of them is injured and the other fights tooth and nail to get to them, realizing how much they care. I was thinking that her callsign could be ‘Reaper’ but it can be anything else if it fits better. It can be angsty (because that’s the absolute best genre), fluffy, nsfw, whatever you want to do with it.

I know this is asking a bit much and I’m sorry for that. Feel free to change it as you see fit and do whatever you want with it, if you want to do it. I really appreciate and love your work!! Thank you!!

'Til it Hurts

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Synopsis: You thought that it would be easy - moving on and blazing your own trail, but at every step, memories seem to come back and haunt you. And the biggest memory takes the shape of a man with a skull mask. Can you still deny what you had always felt when he stands at your side once more?

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: This duology will be 18+ and contain the following: intense gore, blood, violence, vulgar language, angst, fluff, suggestive content, (smut, p in v sex, virgin!reader (relevant to plot) all in part 2), abuse of power in the past, toxic working environment in the past, copious flashbacks, soft!simon because I love him like that (I guess considered ooc), banter, etc...

A/N: Part 2 will be posted tomorrow after I edit it and the link will be added to this part as well for ease of access. But, anna, that's wild that people post about my work on tiktok, lmfao. I'm so glad I helped you out of that writer's block, though! Enjoy part 1, Love (I did change it around a bit)!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You often think of the friends you had when you were six. The neighborhood you grew up in was full of other kids your age, and there was practically a horde of young boys and girls outside at any given moment. Early mornings were ripe for adventures – ears perking up from your pillows at the sound of bird songs and lawnmowers like an instinctual call to cause mischief. Days would run long and nights would end late with games of tag.

It was inevitable, at this point in your life, to not think about where your friends would be now. Were they happy? Starting families and getting married on island resorts; white sand underfoot and a gentle lapping of ocean water? You’d lost contact a long, long, time ago – never bothered to get back in touch, though you know things might be better if you had.

God, you’d never have friends like that again.

Selfless. Genuine. Without competition or a need to stab each other in the back. Friendships built on a childlike innocence that was never meant to stay or grow with the brutal stretch of years. People mature. They harden, sharpen.

They break themselves to fit a mold of what they want to be without even realizing…Or maybe that was just how you grew up.

Your feet pound against the cobblestone streets of Bergamo, Italy, as you make your way through the packed road of the Upper Old District. Under your chin, your fingers go up to grasp the scarf around your neck and pull the thick navy fabric up farther. Fast eyes flicker over faces as a fake plastered smile splays over your lips, and your jaw holds a tension that seeps into your shoulders.

Keep the act up, you have to remind yourself, fingers heavy at your hips, don’t let the facade slip, or else it’s over before it begins.

At your sides, past the unending sea of loudly speaking humans and loyal animals alike, the broad expanse of ancient architecture calls to the history of this city; red-terracotta roofing, extravagant greenery, and pillars as tall as the buildings themselves. A picturesque land filled with mysteries lost to time, stories never told beyond the scratch of a pen and moth-eaten parchment.

A city now filled with killers.

“Sitrep,” you grunt into the open channel, the earpiece fizzling as it sits in the clutch of your canal. No one answers and, slipping past a family of tourists, you glare at the ground; heart going so fast you feel like it could jump-start a car. “Damnit!”

The seconds draw on and as you pick up the pace, now shoving your way through the crowd, you feel eyes on you. Slithering over your skin like oil.

Not good.

Shit. Karver, where did you go!?

Karver ‘Rigs’ Massarini was an informant – someone who’d been giving you everything that you needed to know about the cell in this area; along with a grouping of eyewitnesses to a stash of ICBMs. A stash that could do some serious damage if they stayed here with the wrong people. Intel suggests that those very missiles were going to be shipped off to Mexico in only a few days, smuggled across the border into United States territory with the intent of doing some pretty awful stuff and framing the US.

If you and Rigs weren’t quick with this, so many innocents would suffer.

You’d already gotten into contact with Mexican Special Forces yourself, warning Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo Parra of a possible breach and to watch for any unregistered shipments on the docks or coming in from the air.

But now Rigs was missing, and you had a funny feeling you were being trailed.

Back alley. You take a quick right, boots slamming to the ground and heart hammering. Get away from the civvies in case someone decides to go trigger-happy.

This cell was known for being deadly, Mr. Massarini had sent the file over to CIA headquarters before you were shipped out; Laswell had set you on it right away without even taking the time to read it entirely.

“Extremely high Kinetic; I’m giving you full Execute Authority on this, Reaper. We’re running out of time. Find those missiles.”

Torture, kidnappings, mutilations, the list went on for this group and how far they would go to keep secrets. No one had gotten any clear insight as to what their motives were – just that they needed to be put down in exactly the ways they had been doing to others. Ruthlessly, before they grew bigger or spread their influence beyond borders, and created a group that could rival what Al-Qatala had been.

So that was where you came in.

God, you wished Farah and Alex were here with you – at the very least you could rely on them to help, even if you sectioned yourself off from others more than a dying cat. There was a reason you preferred being sent in alone with only your wits.

Mostly because of situations like this.

“Rigs, sitrep. Where are you,” you try again, the close walls shrouding in your shadows. Throwing looks over your shoulders, you take down deep breaths, a growl gradually digging itself a hole in your esophagus. Desperately, you say, “I’m heading back to the safe house ASAP. Wait for me there.”

Your right hand gravitates to your pocket, slipping through the fabric and pushing aside the ripped seam at the bottom. The sheath at your thigh pinches you with every step, but you’ve endured it for years, calluses breeding where the leather had chaffed the flesh to toughness. To an ingrained perfection. Flinching when your fingers bump against the handle, the metal adornments feel cool to the touch despite the sweat dripping down your spine; temperature and nerves leaving your palms sweaty.

None of this was going to plan.

You caress the small Dirk blade strapped to you, and when the first footsteps enter the alleyway behind you, your hand clenched into a loose fist around it. Your eyebrows pull tight with annoyance.

Taking a slow breath as the trailing stranger begins to move faster, you take a corner, halting the second you were out of sight. You nonchalantly turn on your heel and lean into the wall, feeling your body conform to the building and the stone dig into your back.

The material is cold, and as you raise your Dirk up, you flip the blade parallel to your forearm, wrist lax, and fingers still. A slow breath flows from your barely-parted lips.

3 seconds. You don’t blink, only gazing out across the space and noticing the dark shadow gaining ground. 2…1…

Your body jerks forward, free hand snapping out and grasping the fabric of a shirt. Twisting your hips, you plant your feet and wrench the stranger around the corner, breath coming out in a loud snarl. Without a shout, you have the person’s back shoved to the building in an instant, blade held above an Adam’s Apple.

A man, then.

“I’m going to give you one full minute.” Your Italian was only surface level – far better at understanding others than speaking full sentences. But you think whoever this man is comes to a conclusion well enough. “Before I cut you open and watch the life spill from your eyes.”

You don’t recognize this person, his sharp face or dark, sly, eyes, and with a quick assessment of his large stature you figure out he’s the basic definition of a man sent to complete a job. One that would have left you dead if you were anything less than a contracted CIA Agent on a job. You had been trained among the best from your time in the Marines – years on Special Ops forces; taking point. Even if they were the worst times of your life, you still learned a great deal from them, particularly, how to know when to cut your losses.

With one look into his smug face, you know that this stranger would tell you nothing.

Your lips formed a grimace, teeth flashing under flesh at the rod-straight form of the man under you. He was smirking with eyes seeming to be laughing at you. Arrogant. Self-assured.

“You’ll get nothing out of me, Reaper. We are already on your trail.” Your head tilts, a numb huff escaping your throat and pushing the individual's hair back as a breeze would. There was a small pause; tiny shiftings of your feet as your blade digs ever deeper.

A thin trail of blood falls from the placement, and your muscles writhe under the epidermis. There’s no thought behind the laugh that enters the air, that cold, dark, thing that’s more of a bark from a hellhound. It was just a realization that no matter where you went, there could never be anything unique anymore. Everyone was always the same.

“You’ll never get it out of me-”

“Break my bones; rip my flesh, you will never make me talk-”

“If you want to see me beg, you’ll be disappointed-”

There were countless memories you could bring to the precipice of your mind and re-live; moments ingrained into your psyche like a tattoo is to skin. So you can only smile and nod, scarf swishing around your neck. The man looks confused now, if not slightly nervous. That self-assured attitude leaking to the ground. Eyes as dark as obsidian beginning to snap back and forth – looking for a saving grace in the make-up of ancient stone that wasn’t going to come.

You wondered how many people had died in this city throughout history. The stories lost to time. Have these alleys seen war? Famine?

Have they seen murder?

But you are a woman of your word. A minute passes in tense silence, your eyes never leaving his own and ears carefully in tune, twitching like an antenna, to the joyous shouts and laughter just a street over. Here you wait like a rat in a trap, though you like to believe yourself more of the metal Hammer than the unknowing participant in a dance of death and wits.

You tighten your grip on your Dirk, shrugging up at the man. Your face is nonchalant as an understanding smile grows. As simple as a server at a restaurant.

“I believe you.” And you run the knife’s edge across his flesh like a match to a striker before he can scream.

Stepping back, you’re suddenly thankful for the scarf over your sweat-slick neck because as the spray of blood splatters over your nose bridge and forehead, you swipe it away with one of the ends of the thick fabric. You let the body drop, watching large hands snap to the gushing wound like that alone would stop the cold grip of death.

Your mark has been met.

The External Carotid Artery was easy enough to cut, though you had to dig deep for it, and it seemed the man had moved mid-slice. Frowning while the man gasps and gurgles; flails as a fish would, you study your work as you flick the blade clear of blood. Your brows furrow.

“Nicked the Thyroid Cartilage, hm.” Sighing and shaking your head, you sheathe the Dirk and twist on your feet, still intent on making your way back to the hotel safe house and trying to find a lead on Rigs. The slumping of a body reverberates a moment later, a grandiose death rattle, and still, only a street over you hear animated conversations – the bustle of traveling feet, and the sound of the breeze.

You often think about the friends you had when you were six. But, now, instead of being the one who fought off the monsters at the ends of the beds, you had become it. The monster. The boogeyman.

The Reaper.

Oh, what would they think of you now?

You swipe at the blood along your fingertips, seeing the red bleed under your nails with such a numb feeling that it scares you more than anything. Taking down a gathering of saliva that feels more like a slug in your throat, you wonder when you lost the ability to value human life. Of course, the answer was slated in those early years in Special Ops, but you don’t dwell on those times.

In fact, it was better if you never thought of them at all.

Taking a left, you hum a tune under your breath and listen to the birds sing as the blood dries.

—

The meeting room wasn’t even a room, just a vacant air-craft hangar that had been fitted out with two rows of metal fold-out chairs and a projector. Shadows danced over the floor, long streaks of darkness over concrete.

“...I’ll be giving you full Execute Authority – but this mission is completely Black. Host weapons only. No Evac team.” Laswell’s voice echoes off the ceiling, and Ghost’s eyes flow over the projected intel, memorizing the faces and locations with nothing more than a blink of his blue eyes. Fluttering eyelashes caress the hard material of his mask before settling.

Task Force 141 was being sent off on another deployment again, deep into Belarus and near the Russian border.

“Time frame?” The Captain asks, standing a small distance away and leaning against a crate of ammunition. His arms are crossed; jaw is loosely set.

Kate looks at him, above the heads of Gaz and Soap, and nods her head before she comments, “one week.”

Gaz huffs from ahead of the hulking form of Ghost, and the silent man shifts his attention back to the group.

“One week, Kate? No offense, but we don’t even know if the bastard’s in Belarus.”

“‘fraid to get dirty there, Garrick? Ah, we’re good enough for it.” Soap elbows the male at his side, and the masked man releases a puff of breath one row back. The Scot twists in his seat, mohawk tendrils falling over his forehead, and smirks. “C’mon Lt. back me up here. We’ve got this in the bag already.”

“Bit confident, Johnny?” Ghost grunts out, accented voice low and muffled from under the black fabric over his lips. His hips shift over the chair, legs splayed and arms crossed as he reclines back; letting the bulk of his gear weigh heavy. “Just wait until you’ve got us sitting on a pile of dry leads and rotting corpses.”

“Eh, nothin’ we haven’t dealt with before.”

“Focus, you three.” Kate interrupts as Gaz rolls his eyes to himself, fixing his ball cap over his head with a fast flick of his wrist at the antics of the other two. “You’re going to be shipped out at 2000–”

An easily recognizable ringtone starts to play.

Blinking in surprise, Laswell takes a glance at the table that had been long forgotten and spies her phone buzzing over the metal. Her light brown hair, kept securely tied back, swished at the nape of her neck. She wastes no time.

Briskly walking over, the rest of the men in the room watched intently, heads perked up. Ghost couldn’t stop the pique of interest at the strange behavior, though his form remains still, only making a noise under his breath in contemplation. In the hold of his crossed arms, his fingers tighten.

“Not the person I’d imagine keeps her phone on for just anyone…” Gaz makes a slow comment, and John slides up beside him, hands hooking onto the sides of his combat vest. Watching.

“Hm,” their command affirms.

Kate picks up her phone and immediately answers, brows furrowed. She shifts her weight as an inhalation reverberates. The conversation on the other side was too muffled, a small droaning the only signal that someone was on the opposite.

Unconsciously, Ghost straightens in his chair as the rolled-back sleeves of his undershirt leave his black ink tattoos on display. A deep intrigue spilled in his chest but otherwise, he was still focused on the previous instructions for the next Op. This was just another cog in the wheel, perhaps a location change for their safe house, or an accelerated timeline. No matter, they would get it done regardless–

“Reaper?” Laswell speaks, and blue eyes slide to stare at the Captain, whose legs had tensed. “What’s happened–”

The Lieutenant knows something was wrong just by the simple fact that he’d never seen their Station Chief talk on her personal phone with that look on her face before – he’d seen it mirrored on the Captain and he’d clocked it from her just as simply. The wrinkled skin at the side of her eyes, and stiff-set lips peeled back in a frown. She’d always been serious, but the air was different.

Reaper? He runs through the database of his mind and ignores Gaz’s and Johnny’s muttered words and glances.

“Now who do you think that is, then?” Soap grunts out. Ghost doesn’t answer.

Brows furrow.

Sounds familiar, the man can’t help but admit.

“Patch me through. Now.” Kate slips to the computer a few steps away and opens a fresh tab, sorting through files and months of intel as if it mattered just as much as a bug under her heel.

“Kate?” Price prompts. The woman only holds up a finger and keeps the phone in between her shoulder and cheek, hands fast across the keys.

Soon enough, a feed pops up on the projector, and the three previously sitting all rise to their feet in an instant.

An open wound is in the process of being stitched and displays itself over the entire available space, violent red internal flesh puckering over the edges of…Ghost narrows his eyes, unphased.

Was that a fabric needle and thread being used for sutures? Resourceful, he admits.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.” The manchester man levels thought the blandness of the tone contradicts itself. “Where’s this feed from, Laswell?”

“What the fuck…?” Soap growls out, and the Scot blinks at the screen in shock as the Brit beside him lets off a sound of disgust akin to a sick cat.

“Reaper, sitrep.” Kate doesn’t flinch, rushing off into procedure as steady hands delve back into flesh, blood falling from their fingers like water to splatter to a rundown wooden table. The world-away computer was most likely getting a rain of crimson all over the keys at this rate.

Price grunts under his breath.

“Shit,” a distinctly feminine voice wafts out, a harsh sigh held back, though the annoyed tone was noticed immediately, “can’t a girl stitch herself up in peace? Besides, Watcher-1 answer me this, huh?” The computer is jerked, its screen going staticky as Ghost watches with roving eyes to take in the background when the visibility returns. A bed, nightstand, and sitting by the floor of the front door, copious amounts of weapons. The man takes stock – an M13 assault rifle, X12 handgun, and Arctic .50 sniper rifle. Ammunition lines the floor in a way that leaves Ghost’s lips thinning under the mask.

Someone’s in a hurry. But from what?

“…what goddamn hotel doesn’t have mirrors in it?” Kate’s sigh can be heard a mile away. “No, I’m being serious here, Watcher – how the hell does that happen?”

Watching you take a step back, Ghost as well as the other three all blink in surprise when you come into view. Your top was off, only a sports bra covering your flesh, as your focus stays on the digging needle you send into yourself over and over.

Yet again a feeling of intense familiarity strikes the Brit in the chest. Your soft face, your hair, your voice. It was infuriating.

Who are you? The inability to call forth a memory leaves the fists at his sides gradually clenching under his gloves.

“Reaper.” Seriousness grows in the Agent’s voice, and Price lets out a slow chuckle that leaves Gaz turning to him in confusion.

“Sir?” But the inquiry is ignored.

“Still as stubborn as ever, then, Reap?” Everyone sees your hurried stitches stop, head snapping up as they clock a veiled panic behind the iris’.

Your eyes tell all the story they need, and Ghost’s body freezes as the color evokes a physical twitching of his hand.

“Holy hell,” he utters under his breath so silently no one even realizes he spoke; eyelids pulling back before settling like nothing had even happened.

“You know, you're the first person who’s been nice to me out here.”

“...Then I’d tell you to get better friends, Sergeant. I’m not sticking around.”

“I never said they were my friends, Ghost, and I never expected you to stay, anyways. That’s not how this works.”

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“Bravo-06?” You ask, voice sometimes cutting out over the line. A laugh breaks out, and a small smirk twitches the corners of your lips, “Hey, Old Man, how’s it going over there? Been a while.”

“What have you got yourself into now?” Price asks, chuckling under his breath with a groaned continuation, “and how do you need me to get you out of it?”

The spectral man now watches with a newfound fervency, blue eyes boiling so violently that if anyone had seen, they would have thought he was about to attack. Like a split second of eye contact with a wolf before it rushes. The build of his shoulders was still loose, however, and the only indication of shock was his optics; the mask shrouded all.

But there was a subtle movement of his hips, feet transferring over the floor to stand shoulder-length apart.

“Oh, this,” you point to your injury with a free finger, tying off a knot on the last line of sutures. “Nah, it’s nothing. A couple of assholes tried to get the jump on me a block back, one had a knife on ‘em.” Your hand tosses the needle and thread to the table, a muttered, thunk, sounding off. Looking down at your work with a raised brow, everyone watches. “Took care of it – they gave me a name, too, but with the trail of bodies I left today, I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t pan out.”

A pause before you turn your head back up, face now completely serious as you focus on Laswell.

“But we have a bigger problem, Watcher. Rigs is gone; I think my position’s compromised. I’m going black.” Your form leans to the side, and a wrinkled t-shirt is thrown over your head. From your mouth, a stifled groan releases. Ghost blinks in surprise.

The Captain’s lips thin, and he looks at a tight-wound Kate.

“I have a contact in the lower levels, Reaper, meet up with her and she can have you out of the city by tonight. I’ll send over her info.”

“No can do, Watcher.” You sigh, and Ghost simply stares, following your figure as you back up, heading to the X12 and shimmying it into the back of your pants before looking over your shoulder. Kate hums under her breath. “If they’ve got Rigs,” Walking quickly back over to the computer, one of your hands grasps the top of the frame, thumb poking out from the corner. You tilt your head. “I ain't leaving without him right behind me. I’ll be in contact in a month – if I’m not, then I’m dead already.”

Your chuckle strikes a cord through the room and Soap snorts in answer.

“Glass-half-empty kind of person, then?”

“I’d say,” Gaz mutters.

Continuing, you’re about to say something else – lips already partially parted and breath sucked in – before your eyes lock onto Ghost. The atmosphere of the room flips like the page of a book.

You stare at him with what seems to be a million emotions flying past the glossiness of your optics; lids already peeled back and whites showing in a display that showed more than told. The man could only begin to imagine what you were thinking – how long had it been since he’d seen you last? You’d obviously gotten out of your Marines Special Ops unit.

Not quite how I remember you. It wasn’t hard to recall that small branch of the MRR – Marine Raider Regiment – and how they treated you. But that wasn’t any of his business. He’d been there to do a job, and he’d accomplished it. Quite thoroughly, if anyone would have checked the file after it was all over.

Ghost’s life was counted in the sands of an hourglass, small, molecular, bits hitting the bottom one after the other; rarely was that time wasted on pointless squabbles and words but at that moment, he was conflicted.

The Brit had never expected to see you again, and the sand briefly halted when you spoke. Hm.

Yes, he remembered that voice… he’d just never heard you this confident before.

“Ghost.” He watches the emotions on your face settle, and he was thankful for the mask covering his visage because he knows he would have left at least a small twitch of his lips slip. “Long time no see.”

“Mutt.” The Lieutenant nods in a monotone greeting but notices a slight jerk of your shoulders at the name. His eyebrows furrow, but mentions nothing as his pulse slows.

Your neck moves as you swallow, looking to the side as a dark curiosity fills the space in Ghost’s lungs; head nanoscopically tilting to the side like a vulture.

“Nice seeing you, Bravo-06,” You tilt your head toward the Captain before clearing your throat and addressing Laswell. “I’ll be around.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that the title had made you freak, a kind of bad cloud suddenly springing to life above your head.

Seems to bother her more than being in a Hot Zone, Ghost tells himself, the deep well of dark water in his gut still. That didn’t make any sense. He watches your hand slaps over the computer and the feed goes dark in an instant.

The room is more silent than Ghost is.

“Kate, she’ll need our help.” Price shakes his head from side to side; body moving to the front of the room. “I’m not asking.”

The two talk it over as Ghost’s mind trails, head tilting down more towards his chest as his eyelids narrow.

“Hm,” He grunts, arms tensing as his grip shifts. Soap turns around as Gaz goes to join the conversation between the Captain and the agent.

“What? Know ‘er or something, Lt?” The Scot asks, slapping a hand on the taller man’s arm. Ghost eyes lock on the grip before he blinks, looking back up and leveling the Sergeant with a dead stare. Johnny laughs awkwardly and moves his limb back to his side. “Just…didn’t peg you for the type to start relationships.”

The Lieutenant turns down the aisle of chairs and lets out a bland, “negative. Leave it, Sergeant.”

Why did you react badly to the namesake you’d gone by for the entire time you’d been in Special Ops? Mutt was when everyone had called you when he had been around for that short time.

He felt no great concern for you – no hatred or care – you were just another Agent that would probably end up dead like everyone else. Another time, maybe, he’d have gone in a heartbeat, and if the team decided to go after you, he’d follow. A mission was a mission, it wasn’t like it largely mattered.

But there was something in the back of his mind. Intrigue? Yes, perhaps. The blue-eyed Lieutenant wasn’t one to dwell on these types of things, but a colleague was still a colleague.

Whatever the outcome, he’d do his job with all the ruthlessness and tact he always did.

Ghost’s hand goes up to fix the position of his mask and glances at the blank projector stream, eyes boring into it as they darken. A moment later, he was leaning against the ammunition crate that Price had previously been on, arms crossed and ears twitching at the ongoing battle of wills; isolated to himself as his intimidating form towers ever upwards. Spine straight. Bones stiff. Eyes grim.

You’d been nice to him – a person that, for the limited time he’d interacted with, had left an impression that was only just starting to come back full force. Smart and resourceful; not too bad on the eyes.

He takes down a sigh. Stubborn…but undoubtedly loyal.

His thumb brushes your cheek, and you look up at him as if he wasn’t the one in a mask – as if his entire being was laid bare before you. He swipes away the trail of blood with one firm press. The gentleness of your skin is known even through his glove.

“You’ll live, Sergeant.” He utters, teasing in his monotone voice, “now, where the hell are we goin’? Gun’s itchin’ to lay a few out.”

Ghost would have smirked at the way your eyes dilated if he had the ability, but in the end, he brushes past. Because if he hadn’t, you would have seen his own do the same.

‘Reaper,’ he frowns, feeling the ammunition crate dig further into his hip, they never called you that one.

Perhaps the real battle of wills was happening inside of him – not five feet away between his Captain and his Station Chief.

—

You remember every interaction like it was yesterday, and although he might not, you can’t help the memories from flooding as you gather your gear. Stuffing guns into duffel bags and intel into crossbody sacks that weigh you down like boulders.

Fuck, you open the back window and shimmy out into the back streets, knowing that your position is compromised and not waiting any longer to test your luck. Your side burns something awful; horrible stitches peeling back skin as you groan in pain. What the fuck was Ghost doing with Price? I didn’t know they knew each other. And the two other men in the room…eh. Not the problem right now!

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” you pant, swinging your legs out of the window frame and sharply inhaling when a suture tears. “I’m never in the loop.”

In all honesty, you don’t want to be – too complicated. It’s better to just stick around and be told what to do.

Glaring down at the ground with glazed eyes, you only take a breath of hesitation and let off a curse before dropping.

Your knees take the brunt of the force, and the ricochets of landing on cobblestones travel up your ankles and leave your legs shaking. If you weren’t running on adrenaline, you would have come up with a dirty joke to mutter to yourself.

The discomfort can only last so long, you tell yourself, and ignore the spreading liquid on your side, only thinking of Rigs and the mission.

And Ghost.

Gritting your teeth, eyes vulnerable, you turn down the backroad and stay away from others, drowning in memories more deadly than blood. It had been a while since you had thought of it – the lockbox in the back of your mind keeping all under tight watch; guard dogs with metal teeth and chained necks.

But that title; that namesake you’d scrubbed your skin raw over. Mutt and all the others said in cruel breaths. Oh…but Mutt.

Mutt was the worst of them.

Your hands were vibrating, the tremors traveling up your wrists and arms – past elbows and bruised flesh under skin; bloodied nose and quivering lips. Why did they always yell at you? But worse, why did they always make you do the dirty work?

The Captain, everyone just called him Alke, was standing in front of you, berating your accuracy on the last round of target practice. Fortunately, this deep into the Unit itself, you’d found a way to let it go in one ear and out the next, eyes as blank as a starless sky.

You could see the spittle flying from the man’s lips and some even splashes across your cheeks like acid, but there was something artful to the way you didn't react. A culmination of crafted numbness that bleeds like trauma. It was a constant, everlasting, void.

What they were making you into was not what you wanted, but what possible other option was there? Resign? No, this was nearly an unimaginable position to be in at such an age. You deserve to be here. Should you report the blatant unprofessionalism and favoritism in the ranks? And be blacklisted by these people's friends so that you never ascend the line?

Your ears twitch.

“...You’re not sleeping until your marks are perfect – else we’re overthinking your position in this Unit. Can’t have a Mutt in our ranks, can we?” The last sentence is punctuated with a ruffling of your hair almost like a brother would; teasing, but you know that isn’t what it symbolizes. Harsh laughs and mocking remarks from the bystanders. “Least of all one that’s gonna get us killed. Tch.” When you don’t answer, staring off in a daze at his nose in a perfect image of formation, the Captain raises an eyebrow. “Affirmative,” he smirks, “Mutt?”

“Sir!” Your mouth shouts, though the action is more instinctual as your back straightens. He frowns at that, perhaps wanting to torment you more, but huffs and files out, ordering the rest to follow with one last call.

“I expect you to be up for morning drills an hour early. I’ll be checking your shots myself.”

“Sir!”

After everyone’s gone, you blink back to reality. There’s a second of confusion, creases forming in your forehead at the sound of birds and blowing glass. Head turning side to side, your lips thin at the absence of others as if only realizing how spaced out you’d actually been.

Flashing teeth and heated eyes flash through your mind before you blink them away. Signing away the tense nature of your chest, you clear your throat and relax your legs. Your vision slides to the corners of the concrete dugout, snapping past sectioned-off areas for privacy to search if there was someone who might have stayed back.

Not finding anyone, your hands, clenched behind your back, loosen and fall limp to your sides like bags of rock. One weakly goes to swipe at the trail of blood from your nose, wrecking your already wrinkled sleeve with crimson; but soon an identical trail drips off your chin regardless. Licking your lips and tasting copper, you take a shaky breath and nod to yourself.

You knew what shooting all night would bring on – lesions under the firing pad covering your shoulder; deep-rooted pain leading to nerve damage later on. Blisters that leak puss and blood onto your bedsheets. Not to mention the mental strain, the bags under your eyes burn from lack of rest.

Gritting your teeth, you walk over the tossed rifle on the floor and pick it up with shaky fingers, the tips flinching back from the cool metal before encompassing it tightly.

Silently, you get on your stomach and set the weapon in the crook of your already pain-laced shoulder. Your blood splatters the stock.

—

It had been two weeks with no luck in finding Rigs, and you were starting to get paranoid.

Staring at the dead body tied to the wooden chair, you growl and tear your Dirk from the woman’s chest angrily.

There had been increased police patrols from all the corpses you were leaving, so you’d compromised and limited the chance of being caught at the same time.

Bergamo, Italy, was an ancient place, and the underground was what you were now both metaphorically, and physically, exploiting. Sewer systems. Catacombs. You’d lost track of the paths you’d taken a million times over, and had started to hate the constant darkness only kept back by the small hand lamp you’d stolen.

But there were ups to this constant downward slope.

It made interrogations increasingly easier to pull off with multiple feet of stone all around you. The screams don’t meet the surface.

“Catello Tullio,” you mutter, caressing your sensitive side with your free hand and placing your blade on a turned-over piece of rock. The area reeks of blood and gore, a stack of bodies chucked carelessly in the corner beginning to reek something awful; even as you have another to add to the count. It wouldn’t be long before the rats came in droves.

Another given name, another score. But this one was new. Apparently, the title of the one that took Rigs while he was out getting more rations in the market.

You point a finger at the slumped body, “you better hope I don’t find you in hell if you gave me the wrong damn name.”

Grabbing your light, you stalk off down one side of the tunnel back to your camp, dodging drag lines that strike your eyes with their crimson streaks.

The raggedy blanket and gun-sack you’d been using for a pillow take form in the dark, and somewhere in the corridor a rat squeals; feet pitter-pattering until it disappears altogether. You didn’t even want to think of the spiders living down here. Files and notes are strewn along the floor, perfect hiding places for eight-legged monsters.

You couldn’t do anything until nightfall. It was just too risky.

Massaging your side as you bend down, you grimace at the partially healed wound and scoop up your pistol before plopping to the ground with a grunt. With the deadly object held in your lap, you take a moment to breathe and try to push away a growing headache in the back of your skull.

“This has to be one of the worst Ops on record, huh?” your small voice speaks back to you in bouncing waves of echoes as you begin to fiddle over the gun's small grooves and dents. “How did you manage this, Reap?”

Smiling blandly, the overwhelming quiet and nothingness all around you is like a curse. And in those pockets of a void, your mind always trails to him – or at least it had been for your time on the run. Ghost. That dark and brooding mass of horribly bleak humor and…well…you couldn’t call him mean.

Your eyebrows furrow.

He was never mean to me.

There were soft instances where you would question yourself as to if the Brit had possibly had some affection for you. It wasn’t a long shared history of course, but you had sworn that there was something about the way he looked at you…something that you remember so vividly…

You shake your head and stand after a small while, stretching your feet. Placing your pistol in the back of your belt, the weight brings you dull comfort.

Shining your light on the hand-held radio on the ground in passing, you rove back to it after you scan the perimeter. Its black metal mocks you.

No one’s coming to help ‘cept you. One voice says, and another grunts out, get it together, Mutt.

You turn on your heel to go and take a breather to disperse your dark thoughts but only make it three steps before your eyes widen, lips parting in awe. Nearly falling flat over yourself, you whirl around in an instant.

A static enters the air as if the gods above were laughing at you - toying with your fate like it was a rock tossed to the sky. The familiar British drawl causes your chest to tighten, though the sentence is broken and barely understandable.

Someone’s here for me! A smile slashes your face – fierce hope lighting your eyes. You hadn’t wanted anyone to explicitly come for you, but this was a welcome discovery. Someone to talk to!

“--eper…Copy?” Darting like a cat, you move so fast that you stumble over rocks on the way there. “Lead…cafe…red cloth…Out.”

By the time you snatch the small black object, the garbled and firm tone has already shut itself up. Your mouth parts.

“Shit!” You yell, shaking the thing in your hand with an iron grip, hissing like a snake. You look above you at the cracked ceiling of stone and a growled accusation.“I’m too deep…Fuck. Gotta get up there if I want to be able to respond.”

But it hadn’t all been fruitless. Lead. Cafe. Red cloth. You clip the radio to your belt and make sure your shirt covers your weapon; pat your thigh and tell yourself to stop forgetting your Dirk everywhere before setting off in a jog. The light flashes over dead eyes and stiff bodies.

You snatch the blade off of the stone as you pass it, slipping it into your cut pocket and hearing the satisfying clink of it sheathing.

“Let’s just hope I don’t smell too bad…” You say aloud, chuckling, and listening as the sound echoes off the stone. If no other company, you still had the sound of your own voice.

You couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing. But, you were getting side-tracked.

A Cafe with red cloth, then. Not exactly the place you’d go for an intel swap, but if someone had been trying to contact you for more than a week, you’d imagine they were getting desperate at this point.

If I had known…you frown.

Thinking over the multiple blueprints and pictures of the city in your files, you go through your internal cabinet of knowledge for color schemes - not what you’d have thought you’d be using it for, but, oh well. A lead was a lead.

“Golositá!” You laugh, sudden glee on your face as you dodge a pile of large stones; lips peeling back as you take a fast corner. “Gluttony! Of course, that’s the place.”

The bustling business on the upper side of Bergamo with red table cloths as well as red awnings extending into the street. Anyone would be a fool to miss it.

Like blood lining the street.

You force yourself to run faster.

—

You met him last, despite being a Sergeant. The Captain had you up late last night yet again – running the forest trail this time rather than shooting. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it surprised him when you were still up early with the others; from the looks that he was giving you, you just decided that, yes, he was. Or he was just pissed he didn’t have an excuse to get rid of you.

Blinking away fatigue, you keep your stance relaxed as a gargantuan shadow comes to loom ahead of you.

The man everyone had whispered about called himself ‘Ghost’ and, if nothing more, was certainly intimidating. Shoulders wider than a bench, arms as rounded and as strong as boulders; not to mention the tattoos that made him look like he took cross-country motorcycle rides in his spare time. Tan tactical gear and dark patches for the SAS, the red and white British flag. Gloves covered his large hands, straps carried knives on his biceps and thigh. Something akin to a tan cape that was loose around his hidden neck.

But the mask was what really caught your attention; your head tilting with an innocence that no longer lives in you.

Skeletal. Half a visage of a dead and gone intimidation of humanity. Sewn into a hood of black cloth from which only the eye sockets were open…But the eyes there were no different than if the holes had been empty in the first place; as if the person inside was as dead as sun-bleached bone. Was a corpse piloting this suit?

Ice blue. Freezing blue. Harsh. Colder than a grip of a phantom, you thought as you blinked up at him, colder than the nights you would stay awake working yourself to death. You watched this Ghost’s chest move in a steady inhalation and you stuck out a busted-knuckle hand. Foolish, maybe, but there were worse things to be afraid of than a mask. Then of those eyes that made your spine shiver.

But you didn’t look away.

“Pleasure, Sir.” There was a moment of tense silence where your Captain, at Ghost’s side, was frowning at you silently. The man could say nothing as long as this SAS member was here to assist in your next Op overseas. At your sides, your colleagues on the tarmac shuffle on their feet like nervous penguins.

Ghost glances at your hand, and you try not to show how fast your pulse is running when his eyes leave a cold trail as they grace your split knuckles and torn nails. He ends with a slow look at your name patch.

“Sergeant.” He says and slips past without another word. His shoulder brushes against yours, and you inhale smoke and ash; gun-cleaning solvent paired with a canvas tent. Dirt and metallic blood. Snickers bounce off air particles, striking your ears as an embarrassed heat rises to your cheeks, but that scent stays in your nostrils for days.

Your Captain scurries after.

“Erm, forgive, Mutt. She’s a helluva strange woman, that one.” You keep your sneer hidden, a hiss lodged in your throat and a twitching finger. But your anger isn’t directed at the masked beast that stalks away. That yapping bully of a Captain would hold all of it as long as you were here.

At that point, you were sure you’d seen the last of Ghost until the Op – not really getting the feeling he’s a people person so much as a ‘give orders and follow them’ type.

But that was fine by you, it didn’t change anything. You’d been told to go back to the firing range tonight for opening your mouth and ‘making an embarrassment of the Unit’....whatever that meant. All you did was welcome the guy with the barest hint of a good attitude.

You supposed manners were a foreign concept around here.

The world ahead of you was blurring, red circles in your eyes that gloss over with water every minute you force yourself to stay awake. The stars were out, sky dark, and the area was only lit by large lights situated around the base. In some sort of strange way, you enjoyed the sound of crickets and the cold breeze over your bare arms as if the only sense of peace you got was when you were half-passed out, nailing shots from a rifle.

The stock was where it always is, your cheek pressed to the side; staring down the scope at the multiple holes in the paper targets. Dots surrounded by multiple other dots like a slice of cheese. You suppose that made you the hungry mouse in that case.

‘A mouse with a fucking day before she drops.’ You frown, blink, and pull the trigger as the trees rustle. The force lands directly on your shoulder – the kickback is usually not one to bother you, but seeing as your appendage was one bad day away from being dislocated and forever damaged – you took it with a grit of your teeth.

And you took it because you knew you could. Just as you knew that you felt a pair of eyes on the back of your neck. Freezing, you remove your finger from the trigger and loosen your grip. Turning your head to the side, a free hand goes up and shifts the ear mufflers from your head to your neck in a single movement.

You swear your heart jumps to your throat when you see a skeleton’s icy blues numbly watching you; arms crossed while a nice-looking SA-B 50 Marksman Rifle sits against the wall at his side. How…long had he been there? Watching?

“What’re you doing, Sergeant?” Ghost asks sternly, that Manchester accent making him sound harsh. Grating like a rock being run against concrete. “I’m sure your Captain wouldn’t be thrilled at a scene like this, eh?”

Blinking, you remind yourself to breathe before answering – voice tough and hoarse.

“I have my orders, Sir. You’re free to join me.”

You turn back as a grunted huff falls from behind muted cloth. Ghost walks up to your laying form, standing on your left side and picking up the binoculars from the hanging hook in your station. As you look back through your scope you don’t know why, but you hold your breath; waiting for something.

“...Not a bad shot. You’re prone to firing more to the right, judging from the grouping. I’d fix that, less you miss a moving target runnin’ the opposite.” He lowers the object - staring from the side of his eye. From your position, your neck cranes to see his fingers twitch. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” For someone you’d expected to be quite harsh – though you had no doubt he still was – Ghost was more sarcastic in his mannerisms.

Backhanded comments that wound sting if you got on the other end of them.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Sir.” Shifting your grip, you move the stock farther up your shoulder, feeling an immediate release of tension, though the expansive trauma still leaves needles in your tissue.

“Hm, pay attention and you just might learn something.” You feel yourself quirk a lip for the first time in months; your mouth doesn’t stop to think.

“You mentor a lot of people in the middle of the night, then?”

“Only the ones stupid enough to be awake.” He takes a step back, going to grab his own rifle as his footsteps don’t even make a sound.

‘Quiet for a guy with thighs that could choke me out.’

Your brows furrow at the heated thought, taking a slow breath and flexing your hands as the shadow disappears from over you. Why were your hands sweaty?

Were you…afraid? That…that wasn’t it.

“You’re up too, you know, Sir. Bit hypocritical.” This was the first time you’d had a full conversation with someone since you’d gotten in with this Unit. A mildly pleasant one, at least…you wouldn't really call this bonding.

“I can always leave ya’ to it, Sergeant.” Deadpanning the words, you clear your throat and fall silent at the threat.

‘No,’ you wanted to comment, ‘no, I want the company so badly it hurts.’

You swallow saliva and reposition your ear mufflers back over your head, heart bruising your ribs, as you bring down a calming breath of air to still your nerves.

The two of you don’t speak again, and you don’t ask why he takes the shooting cubby right next to yours, the nose of his rifle peeking out from the concrete wall. You certainly don’t ask why he’s up, either.

And in return, he doesn’t ask you the same.

—

When you find Golositá you’ve managed to sneak through the city unseen, taking every backroad and alley you could as the heat of the day increases to near sweltering. Panting, you stick to the thin shadows of the path across the street, eyes dancing over red cloth and flicking to faces; studying visages as one would a medical report.

Your chest hurts, and you run a hand over your side, feeling the raised skin under your shirt before digging into the aching ribs. All this running around and little food to help keep your normal strength was troublesome, and it would only get worse if this Op from hell continued.

I need new intel. Badly.

About to retreat, not finding anyone you recognize off the bat, a black-shrouded figure kisses the side of your vision as if a phantom.

On the outside table, the farthest removed, a man sits stiffly with an untouched teacup in front of him. Smirking, you can’t help but scoff at the thought of Ghost using the thing – you’d think his thumb and forefinger would break the delicate porcelain in an instant. Like a spine over his thigh.

Your cheeks heat.

He looked almost identical to what you remember – minus the gear, obviously – and your stomach twisted at the thought. Was a simple look enough to bring you to the breaking point? Why were your lungs tight?

As if feeling your stuck eyes, those icy blues shift from people-watching to lock onto yours immediately. As hollow as they always were, it seemed. He blinks and the blonde eyebrows on his sliver of visible forehead move.

Shit. Your hips trade weight. Look at you.

Loose shoulders under a rugged buttoned-down and painted balaclava make your breath go thin, not able to resist sneaking a glance at those tattoos you remember so vividly. Yes, that was still Ghost.

Jesus, is this how it felt to see someone you barely even remembered suddenly appear? Was it elation or caution that was making your heart race?

Ghost doesn’t look surprised. His eyes don’t widen; don’t soften or light up. They blankly watch you as you shake away the shock and raise a brow in return. A sarcastic finger goes to your head, and you mock salute.

What are you doing? You seem to ask, a mischievous expression growing as you start forward when he dismissively narrows his eyes. You look ridiculous. Are you asking to be spotted?

The man leans into the too-small chair he sits in, one hand going to hang off the back and the other resting on the tabletop. Gloved fingers tapping morse in slow measures.

Clear. Come here. He follows you with his gaze, head stationary, as you enter the flow of traffic, smiling at people at your sides and letting off polite greetings when you could. Steadily striding, you weave through groups and individuals like water, legs steady even as your ears pick up every little sound.

A comfortable middle point of visible excitement and strict business. Why were you so…happy?

When you approach Ghost’s table, you slip up beside him with a sly chuckle, pulling out the chair to his right. You, softy, lower yourself down into it, not turning to him but instead simply making sure no one had followed you with a quick scan. His heat only adds to the warmth of the day like a walk through damnation.

“Well, well, well,” you smile, addressing the SAS member with his shadow hanging over you once more; such a heavy thing, though you don’t mind. Your expression mellows to have it above you again. There was a safety to it, you had to admit. The cold comfort of death. “Trip to Italy, Sir? Take a little vacation?”

“Came to bail out a bird from my past,” You smell that scent again – smoke and ash; gun-cleaning solvent paired with a canvas tent. Dirt and metallic blood. “And if I ever went on a vacation, I sure as hell wouldn’t pick this place. ‘Bout to burst into flames; traumatize a few kids and their mums.”

Hadn’t he changed even a little bit?

“Now that’s dark.”

“Never said it wasn’t.”

Of course he hasn’t, you answer your own question, feet shifting and skin pliable, why would he? He isn’t like me – didn’t have to reinvent himself based on atoms and in the wake of silent nights.

There was a piece of you that believed that Ghost had always been this way, though you knew it was false. Nobody in this profession was just born like this, they were led to it. Whoever it was under the mask or balaclava didn’t matter anymore.

They had died a long time ago.

“Not a fan of the history, Brit?” You tease, bringing up a hand to itch at your undereye, finally taking a peak at the form that nearly swallows you.

Your lids try not to peel back, but you didn’t realize how close you’d sat next to Ghost – any closer and you would be in the crook of his arm; the relaxed spread of his knee bumping into yours and arm over the back of your seat. Trying to act nonchalant, you ignore the strange swirling in your gut with a hum and a twitching of your leg.

Stop that.

“Don’t care a smidge, just not a fan of the damn heat.” The gruff man responds with his inked arm on the table flexing, as though he was tenser than he showed. Ghost clears his throat, “needs a good downpour, eh?”

“Try living underground for two weeks. Literally. Sun’ll feel like a blessing.”

“Fuckin’ hell…That’s why the radio wasn’t working, then.” While this was all cute – re-learning each other like a shaken puzzle – there were dangers to being this open. The Brit would be fine, but if you got spotted, well, there would be worse things to worry about than an achy side and a pile of bodies in a tunnel.

“You got something for me, or are we here just to stand out like bullet holes in a forehead?” Feeling his head tilt to you, snaking down your form, your body leans forward, palms sweaty as they lock on the table. “Price with you? The other two I saw on the feed?”

“Negative. Op in Belarus. Sent me in alone.” Your knees brush, delicately; like a touch of down feathers. You refrain from taking in a shallow breath, knowing he’s analyzing every movement with a hidden mouth and gentle huffs of air that rises his sculpted chest. Through a grunted sigh, Ghost tells, “The Old Man insisted. Laswell thought you’d be alright by yourself, regardless,” and falls silent.

What was he doing? Why was he talking with that rasp in his tone? Your heart swells at the comment about Kate, but a confusing feeling settles in your lower body. Why did the air feel thick?

The warmth of the sun was making your skin perspire, leaving a sheen of sweat over your arms. But the thought of heat stroke fled as you became hyper-aware of the man beside you, keeping careful not to touch you, though his gaze still bore into the side of your face like prodding fingers anyways.

He can’t quite figure you out, he admits to himself. So much of you was different – and he couldn’t tell how.

She’s lighter, he tightens his face, not the same as when I left.

But there had been an utter satisfaction when he’d seen you in that alleyway, even if you were different in a million ways, that would never change. Ghost’s body had loosened, his clenched jaw let go, and snappy answers to servers stopped entirely.

Because those were still the same colored eyes that he remembered. He takes a long breath.

Through the haze under your creased skin, a red alarm starts to sound off. Not because of the confusing way you felt the chilled form of Ghost on a near internal level, but because of the hooded individual across the street.

When your eyes lock, they back up three paces and bolt down the adjacent street, vanishing into the crowd. Your expression darkens, and Ghost shifts his attention from your face to the streets.

His eyes blankly follow where you were looking.

“Come on,” you get to your feet, hand snatching at the SAS member's sleeve, dragging him with you as a mother would a toddler. It was ironic – if he resisted, you wouldn’t be able to force him to move, not in a million years, but he slid off his chair with fluid muscles.

He doesn’t question you when he’s brought into an offshoot of the road, vacant of tourists or locals besides a stray cat and a few scavenger birds. Flies jump off garbage cans, buzzing through the air above your heads as you level Ghost with a serious stare.

You nearly stumble over your words when you get to look at those long blonde eyelashes that you remember heatedly, but push through as they move to half-lid his blank eyes. Your heart skips beats as you spare looks up and down the space.

What the fuck is going on with me? Focus. This is serious.

But, Jesus, he should really stop looking at you like that.

“You said you had a lead over the radio – anything on someone called Catello Tullio by chance?” You ask, voice like stone.

“Tullio?” Ghost hums in the back of his throat, all business, hips moving under him as he goes to glance at the street. His balaclava moves as he speaks. “Someone made a mention of it. ‘Fore I put a knife in ‘em, ‘o course.” Nodding, he huffs out, “On me.”

Turning on long legs, he starts to walk farther down the path, and you follow at his side, peering up and eager to gain more intel. “You’ve caused quite a panic around here, Sunshine. Cell’s terrified of the ‘Reaper.’ I’m nearly impressed.”

He briefly flashes an optic to you, heart betraying him as he remains locked on your lips. Rotating his jaw, he turns back forward.

“Oh, my,” smirking slowly, you roll your eyes, “whatever will I do without your approval, great Ghost.”

“Dunno – kick the bucket probably.” Shaking your head in false annoyance, the slow, mocking, stain in the man’s tone leaks into your very DNA; coating it with honey. Like a warm sunrise, you clock a small hitch in his chest and equate it to muted chuckles when you laugh.

“Don’t go placing bets, now. I’m not so easily broken.”

“Oh, wouldn’t think of it, Sweetheart. Wouldn’t be my handiwork if it happened,” his tone goes light, “don’t wanna take credit away from you.”

“Brit.” You spit with fake venom.

“American.” He grumbles back, but you clock the small spark in his iris, cold blue bouncing silver light like snow.

He sounded…entertained? Snide in a sarcastic way.

Your mouth rises in a stupid, dopey, grin as you stare from the side of your vision, chest jumping in easy comedy. What a strange pair you two were, but you find you liked his company even more, this time around.

Or maybe he had changed slightly. Or maybe it was just you.

At the end of the day, you were relieved that it was easy to talk to him. Conversations with corpses are a bit one sided, after all.

Ghost’s lips had to be at least quirked under that dark fabric to achieve mischief like what he was spitting out, you leveled with yourself. At the minimum, the man wasn’t annoyed he’d been forced out of his own primary mission because of you.

You remember he wasn’t averse to cracking jokes – particularly dark ones – but it had…it had never felt like his before.

Strange, you admit with a raised brow and a cocked head, cheeks burning for no apparent reason. You’d gotten him to chuckle? Holy hell, you deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for that. I’d think he would be pretty pissed about being sent here. He’s never been one to fuck around.

You both continue in easy silence until you decide to speak once more, intent on asking where you were being led.

Ghost’s head had perked up in what you assumed to be soldier-like attention, but then his head had whipped behind the two of you. Oblivious to his shift in mood, like a dark cloud, you open your mouth.

“Well, where are we–”

“--Get down!” Hands slap on the back of your arm and jerk you to the opposite wall as a loud echo rings out. Whizzing over your head so close that you feel the breeze of it.

Gasping, the air is expelled from your lungs in one fell swoop; your spine grating over the rough stone as your legs scramble to keep upright. Wiping away the shock quicker than an eraser over a whiteboard, your neck snaps to the problem; brain already hardwired to get over being shot at and the adrenaline that floods your veins immediately after.

Across the way, Ghost’s fast hand was reaching to the back of his outfit – without a doubt going to grab a concealed weapon. Eyes fiery and arms tight. And as though you were seeing it happen in slow motion, you lock onto the hostile in the middle of the alley back the way you both came. And then onto the hooded silhouette ahead of you.

Boxed in.

Hyperfocused, all of it happens in only three seconds, two trained professionals protecting each other without even realizing it.

One, you realize how this will have to play out if you don’t act immediately. You don’t know how you can trust Ghost to take the other hostile while you focus on the one ahead, but you don’t question it. Two, your gun lays heavy in your hand as your legs pivot. Three, you fire double shots with a loose finger and hear mirrored gunfire from the man beside you.

You don’t bother watching him drop.

Snapping your head backward with a rageful expression to see Ghost’s corpse hit the floor with a cracking of a skull, shouts start to ring over the city. When you lower your weapon, you turn to notice the Birt examining your own downed hostile with a satisfied stare. If you hadn’t had his back, he would have been shot in it.

But what you didn’t know was that he was thinking the same thing about you.

Turning to stare at each other, your widened eyes lock; fingers twitching along the cool X12’s metal as those stormy iris’ only seem to darken further when they dart to your lips. Like staring into a wild animal’s gaze and pretending you’re not in a trance because of it – stuck in that moment of infinity and nothingness with not a single muscle moving. Waiting for either a mouthful of fangs around your supple neck or for the beast to turn away with grace and practiced steps.

You swore Ghost’s mouth parted under that damned balaclava, but whatever he was going to say was lost when the world came back in a violent storm of screams. Panicking, you gape at the entrance – seeing multiple shadows shoving through the crowd to get to you.

“On me!” Keeping your pistol in one hand, you bolt, hearing heavy footsteps pounding behind you as your mind begins to run.

Ghost trails without a single doubt in his mind as to why he’s following you, and it makes him cautious.

Catacombs, you decide, get under the city and backtrack to the outskirts. Survey and have Ghost tell me his intel before making a move…yeah!

“Where are we headin'?!” Ghost shouts, keeping right your heels as you turn corners. Gunshots ring over your heads as you jump up small groupings of tile steps, blood pounding in your ears. You try to remember the maps you had stored in your files underground. Left…no, two rights. Shit! I need to be higher – see the streets like a bird would! “Reaper?!”

“Do you trust me?!” You call over your shoulder, and though it seems deranged, a smile forms over your lips. “I’ll need an answer in the next few minutes, yeah? I’m on a time crunch!”

“What are you on, Girl?” The adrenaline speaks to you, propelling your legs faster and faster. You vault over a fallen trash bin and take the shock to your ankles as it travels to your thighs. Snickering, you feel the brooding man’s presence like you always could – just beside you like a loyal hound. His focus excites you as you put your gun away in the small of your back. “Bloody hell! Not giving me a choice?”

“Not if you don’t want to get shot in the ass!” Taking one more right, you find yourself rapidly approaching a dead end, tall walls, a balcony, and a large dumpster – the flap already closed overtop. Not answering the man as he barks out a comment, you throw yourself atop it with a puff of breath and spasming lungs.

Laughing, your hands don’t falter. Reaching up with eager fingers, you grab at the black metal front of the balcony a small distance above and suck down a hot breath. Your arms strain, sickly sweet sweat on the top of your lip, and eyes wide with glee despite the gaining footfalls rising like a battlefield cry. Jerking your body up with only your upper-body strength, you slide your abdomen over the railing with barely a second passing. Once your feet are firmly on someone's property, you twist around and slap your hands to the metal with a twinkle in your vision; face wrinkled with all the animated amusement.

A wide grin is stuck on you.

Ghost stares up with slightly widened eyes from the ground, arms poised on the garbage bin.

Oh, hell, when she smiles like that…

“But I can’t judge, can I?” Teasing, you extend a helping grip with a smirk. “Everyone has their fetishes, hm, Ghost? Maybe yours is just having a gun pointed at you.”

He blinks at that, but knowing the urgency in the back of your throat, he pushes himself up with a grunt. You try not to watch his muscles strain, but spy the way the veins in his forearms grow larger as his alluring hips flex. They situate themselves under him as he crunches before straightening in an instant.

Fuck, don’t drool, you scold, lips lightly parted like seven devils were flying in the back of your mind. Jesus, imagine the weight those things can carry…shit. Wouldn’t mind losing my virginity to that.

A leather-coated hand slaps into your awaiting one. You snap back to a screaming reality and stare down into hypnotic sheens of ice and…wait…did Ghost have fucking green flecks near his pupils?

“You sure it isn’t yours, Sunshine?” He harshly comments, and his balaclava moves with a rising of his eyebrow.

Clearing your throat, you murmur a weak reply as your face begins to feel like a blazing fire, squeezing his limb before pulling. He chuffs. Grunting violently, you know he does most of the work in helping himself up, though the Brit still slaps your shoulder in comradery when he’s stable. Kneeling down, he forces himself into the wall behind the two of you, fingers weaving to create a cuff over his knee.

Tossing his head up, he motions with urgency.

“C’mon. Be quick ‘bout it.”

Catching one foot in the basin of his clutch, you force down your illicit thoughts about Ghost and jump, pushing off with your opposite leg on his shoulder and his added boost. Scaling the wall, you arch and scramble - with a growing bite in your side – to the terracotta-shingle roof.

Following after and checking your six, the beast of a man joins just in time.

Shadows dart around the corner far on the ground, and the both of you are speeding animals over the rooftops in the meantime. Against better judgment, boots pounding the tiles, you release loud bouts of genuine laughter.

How long had it been since you’d had such fun? Enjoyed someone else's company like this? Running across homes, you look at your side, only to find Ghost’s eyes already digging into you. Unrelenting. Unmovable. Panting, you smile brightly, giggles making your sides hurt something awful but your pace doesn't slow for an instant.

All it took was a glance at the streets – you know where you are now.

“Enjoying yourself, Reaper?” He asks, arms pumping and barely winded, and you wonder for a moment how he breathes under that covering of his – it had to smell horrible by the end of the day.

“For…the first time in ages, Ghost.” He chuckles at that, and it is a betrayal of his nature. How could someone so violent, so cloaked in oceans of blood, produce such a soft sound? A genuine sound that makes your stomach flip?

His bewitched eyes rove back in front of him, and he can’t deny the simplicity of speaking to you. It wasn’t a chore, just a conversation with a person who he wouldn’t mind having on 141 at his side.

There were few people worthy of that.

You swallow thickly and take point, leading the shadow of death to your home underground so you can re-evaluate.

You can only wonder why you don’t feel nervous as he watches over you, skin marked with horrors but his hand had fit so well in your own. And you also wonder how you can come to care for someone you haven’t seen in ages so quickly, as if you’d both been around each other for years.

Had you really ever forgotten him? Or just tried to push the affection, both emotional and physical, for him out? But that was the problem, you tell yourself with a clenched jaw, that physical attraction. All of that was just…tied into a million knots. Complicated.

You’d never had sex before.

And, Ghost questioned himself as he watched your legs move, did he forget you out of necessity? Because those eyes of yours won’t leave him alone, and he so very much enjoyed looming over you.

He sighs heavily and follows in silence.

—

When you first joined them, they all created rumors. This was long before you were permitted solo Ops, long before half of your file was filled and bleeding with black ink that would shame a warlord. When everyone just thought you were signed up because you were some unhinged kid, brimming with unchecked problems and willing to throw everything away just for the chance to prove yourself. Who got into it for kicks.

They would say you enjoyed it, killing. Reveled in it, really. That it got you off when you were covered in blood and crimson guts as they pooled at your feet.

You suppose that was what turned you away from sex in general – those heavy comments said with no remorse that stuck with you. It was fear almost, a genuine twisting of your mind to make it your fault. It wasn’t your fault, you knew that; you could sleep with anyone you wanted and the comments weren’t a brand on your skin.

You could forget about it. You should.

But the words were so mean. Just cruel for the sense of being cruel. And it stuck with you.

If that was all anyone would see, why try and force them to look away? You kept to yourself, never spoke unless spoken to, and shoved all of it down like a kill switch. No sex, no relationships. Nothing to make you think about the rumors.

Getting off on death? You were horrified at the concept, horrified that people would play around like that with you – with your life!

You just ended up telling yourself you wouldn’t feel it until it hurt too bad. In a way, you were right…but you can only force emotions down for a while until they break forward like a fist to the mouth.

Besides Mutt, they had many names for you – titles and backhanded monikers. Rabid. Demon. Devil. Monster. Sometimes, beast.

But they all had the same meaning. Inhuman. Wrong.

It shouldn’t have bothered you that much. It…It shouldn’t have made you stay up at night still thinking about the way they would laugh and pinch your arms as you were left shaking; drowning in gore not your own because they sent you into the heart of the Hot Zone for a few jokes. Teasing you about how you probably touched yourself because of it.

But it was just an excuse to make you too scared to leave. Your reputation…

“There’s that Devil for ya’, always ready to slit some more throats for us. You think you could do the next few, Mutt? You’ll love it, I know you will. I’ll give you a good report if you do it without alerting the guards – see there… ‘Course you will. Fucking freak.”

Your eyes stare forward blankly, Dirk leaving a dotted fluid trail over the dusty ground.

Why did they do this to you?

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

Text

Champion of the World **^

Part 2 of Music Producer! Harry blurb as requested in the notes by @totodiamond :) I just did a proper one shot for it.

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), fingering, sex, mentions of death and loss, cheating.

WC: 9k

LAST WARNING... If you haven't read the BLURB first you can do so here.

The reception of Y/N’s band’s new album was expected to be pretty promising. Granted, their music wasn’t “mainstream”, but Harry had insisted that they have 2 singles on the album to get them more on the radar and well, it had worked. Their second single had a more indie-pop feel and swept the nation thanks to a TikTok posted by their label. Because of it’s popularity it really helped hype up the anticipation for their album release and it was projected to do really well. They were also projecting that the second single would be the “song of the summer”. And well, they would start to tour in August so they would be busy from August until next May.

The topic of tour seemed to be the most frequently asked question as she navigated through the room at the album’s launch party. This was their first headlining tour, they had opened on a few tours for several shows with their EP and first album, but this was the big one. Their self-titled album. Because this is how they made a name for themselves. It was a lot to take in and the more people asked the more overwhelmed Y/N felt. There were people everywhere and she was slowly starting to get anxious and she just needed a little break so she headed outside to catch some fresh air. When she got out there someone was smoking off to the side and the scent just called to her. She hadn’t smoked in years, but she was feeling nostalgic, so she went up to him and bummed a cigarette off of him before the man headed inside. She had just taken her first drag and it felt so familiar that she smiled to herself.

“Seriously?” She heard and immediately recognized the voice and turned to her right to see Harry walking over to her with a disbelieving smirk on his face. She was partially hidden behind a giant palm planter for this very reason, she didn’t want a scolding from anyone about her smoking. She knew cigarettes were gross and bad for you, but she was feeling nostalgic when the scent reached her nose and she gave in just this once.

“I know, I know…but I haven’t smoked in maybe 4 years, it’s just this once. Don’t narc me out to Richard.” She said to Harry of their manager as he stopped before her, still smirking.

“Gimme that.” He said extending his hand to her and she frowned.

“Fine. Just one more though.” She said to him and he laughed softly.

“Relax, I’m not gonna put it out. Nor will I narc you out.” He said to her lowly and she smiled at him as she passed it on over, “D’you mind?” He asked as he raised it to his mouth and she shook her head.

“Go for it.” She assured and he proceeded to put the filter between his lips and inhaled for a few seconds before letting the smoke flow out from between his slightly parted lips as he exhaled.

“Wow, I haven’t smoked in ages either.” He said to her with a smile, “It’s as awful and comforting as I remember.” He added and she chuckled.

“Yeah…” she agreed.

“I promised myself I’d never do that again…thanks.” He joked and she shrugged.

“I’m sorry for tempting you. I’ve heard that I tend to bring out the worst in people…” she apologized with a half smile on her face.

“No you don’t.” He shook his head, “You bring out the wild side in people, but it’s only because you’re so effortlessly cool and yourself. Like people want to impress you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” He said and she smiled.

“Is that what this was? You trying to impress me?” She teased him.

“No, I have some dignity.” He countered with a grin and she laughed loudly as he chuckled, “Nah, I saw you walk out in a bit of a rush and just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He explained, “So are you alright?”

“Yeah, it just got a little overstimulating in there. Too many lights and voices and questioned and smells…it was a lot.” She said and he hummed as he took another drag before handing the cigarette back and she immediately took a drag.

“Oh, the shitty parts of acquiring fame…”

“Yeah.” She giggled as the smoke billowed out of her mouth. He started at her lips for a few seconds as she glanced off somewhere else. Her lips were slightly swollen and looked so smooth and juicy from whatever product she had on them. He’d been dying to kiss her for months, but he didn’t want to start anything with her while they were actively involved in a professional relationship.

“Are you excited for the tour?” He asked after a few beats of silence. And she wasn’t annoyed when he asked about it, but maybe it’s because it was him.

“Yeah, we already start rehearsals next week! I think we need to re-work the setlist though…but we’ll see once we run the full show through.”

“Are you guys rehearsing here?”

“Yeah, we’ll stay in LA.” She confirmed, “What’s next for you?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a couple offers on the table for different gigs, just not sure what to choose.” He confessed and she hummed.

“Well which one has you most excited?” She asked and he bit his lip pensively.

“Ummm…I’ve been approached to compose for an indie film…” he said and she gasped in surprise.

“Oh? That’s so cool, Harry!”

“Yeah.” He smiled, “I haven’t really done any original compositions since…maybe grad school?” He said with a questioning expression, “So it’s not out of my skillset, but I’m definitely out of my depth and out of practice. I’m sure I’m rusty, but it’s something different than what I’ve been doing the last few years, you know? So it seems the most exciting and challenging.”

“Yeah. That’s really sick. What’s the storyline? If I can ask.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah, ummm, it’s one of those dystopian love stories…so like the world’s gonna end in a few weeks and we’re all gonna die and it’s about like making peace with yourself and living in the moment, finding the beauty in the tragedy…that kind of thing. I really liked the script, it’s so realistic and well written. I’ve even considered going for one of the lead roles.” He said to her and she smiled.

“Oh? Acting too?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled timidly.

“Well aren’t you multitalented!” She smiled as he smiled bashfully, “Well, it sounds really cool, definitely sounds like something I’d watch. If only to hear your compositions.” She said and he smiled.

“Hey, if I say yes maybe you can sing on a track.” He suggested and she smiled.

“Yeah, I’d be down.” She assured as she flicked the ash off of her cigarette before taking another drag and exhaling, “Do you want another?”

“Yeah, last one.” He said and she chuckled as she passed it over to him. Once he took his drag he held it out to her.

“I’m good. You can kill it or…kill it.” She said and he smiled as he stepped over to the little ashtray over the garbage bin and extinguished what was left of the cigarette before stepping back over to her.

“So, should I keep myself open for your next album or has the illusion of having me produce your albums died?” He asked with a grin and Y/N laughed aloud at his question before biting down on her lip to suppress a smile.

“Ummm, I’d say keep yourself open…I think I need to give you a fair shot.”

“Oh… OK.” He smiled contently, “Good. I’ve got some really great ideas for some of the songs we cut from this album that can help kind of establish your sound for the next one.” He said.

“Geez…already? Everything moves so fast here.”

“You’re definitely not in Kansas anymore…” he smiled at her and she rolled her eyes playfully, “Don’t roll your eyes, you know you want to laugh.” He said to her and she finally did but shook her head.

“I’m not even from Kansas! I just went to school there!”

“Yeah, but the rest of your band is, and it was formed there, so whether you like it or not, you’re now from Kansas - well according to Wikipedia you are - so the joke works.” He said smugly.

“You wikipedia-ed me?”

“Well, I wiki-ed the band before I agreed to work with you guys. You’ve seriously never googled anything about me?” He asked her incredulously.

“Eh, kind of…I mean, I googled narcissistic personality disorder, to see if you met the criteria for it…” she said and he laughed loudly and she smirked, “When I realized that I was reaching, I googled your birthday and discovered you’re an Aquarius, and well…that explained a lot. Like how you’re so great at your job but also a control freak and kind of a dick.” She teased and he shook his head.

“I see how it is…” he hummed in mock offense and she reached out for his arm, her hand rested against his bicep.

“I don’t think that of you anymore, just to clarify. It was before when I was still mad at you. I’m sorry. You’re perfectly normal according to the DSM-5.” She assured giving him a small, reassuring squeeze and he grinned.

“Yeah, thank you for stating the obvious.” He chuckled as her hand started to slip away from him and he grabbed it in his, which made her look up into his eyes. Her heart rate starting speeding up as her eyes met his own before he glanced down at her hand, “This is nice.” He said to her as his thumb grazed over the sunburst ring on her middle finger. She looked down as well and felt her tummy flutter at his innocent, but very intimate gesture.

“Thank you. My sister gave it to me.” She replied, her hand still in his. He hadn’t made a move to let go and she hadn’t made a move to pull her hand away from his either, so their eyes met again as their hands came down, still connected by their middle fingers being hooked together. The tension and electricity buzzing between them was extremely obvious.

“It’s gonna be weird not seeing you guys every day.” He said to her and she smiled.

“Yeah…everyone’ll miss you, if that’s any consolation.” She said with a small smile and he smiled down at the ground and asked his question before he could talk himself out of it.

“What about you? Are you gonna miss me too?” He inquired before looking back into her eyes and she smiled bashfully.

“Gee, I don’t know…what do you think?” She asked playfully and he chuckled.

“I mean can you blame me for asking? Your messages and feelings towards me are kind of hard to read.” He said and she hummed as she bit her lip pensively and then glanced up to his eyes before placing her hands on chest and tiptoeing to graze her lips over his. Her eyes flickered up to his.

“Does this clear things up for you?” She asked with a soft smile and he smirked.

“Ummm, it’s still a little murky.” He teased.

“Oh yeah?” she responded quietly and he hummed teasingly, “Let me make it clearer then.” She whispered before pressing her lips to his. His hands immediately found their place at her waist as hers slithered up to loop around his neck. Their soft and playful kisses soon turned into languid and hungrier kisses as the seconds passed them by in their dark little hiding place.

Harry now had Y/N up against the wall with one hand around the back of her neck and the other against the wall as he sank his teeth into her bottom lip before sliding his tongue in against her own. Her beautiful, breathy moan made his ears perk up and ring. It was such a beautiful and sensual sound, he wanted to put it on a track; layer it in somewhere and commemorate it as the beautiful and artistic sound it was. Her index fingers were hooked into his trouser’s belt loops, keeping him as physically close as she could. She wanted to disappear into the night with him and see where they ended up. The tension between them had been building for months and well, they hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks after they finished production on the album, so she assumed that the tension would dissipate with time. But she was discovering that hadn’t affected her longing for him, not even a little bit.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asked her quietly, and admittedly with a smidge of uncertainty, as his nose skimmed down the length of hers in a delicate and playful gesture.

“Yeah.” She whispered and nodded her head in a double confirmation to him that she wanted to be alone with him.

“Alright.” He smiled against her mouth and she smiled as well before he grabbed her hand and pulled her around the building towards where he parked. He was given a spot right out back instead of having to valet, which would be a waste of precious time with her. So they hurried around to the back and they got inside and took off. He was in his classic, white Mercedes with the top down, so when they were leaving, they were inevitably papped. And as much as she tried to keep her head down to avoid being recognized as the woman in his car any comparison in outfit would easily prove that she had in fact left her own launch party with Harry, her producer.

“God, they’re everywhere!” Y/N griped as they finally got on the main street and were stopped at the traffic light.

“And there’s more.” He said to her as he cocked his head to the people who had followed them on the sidewalk up to the light and were snapping pictures of them in the car.

“Jesus.” She huffed.

“Wait, where’s your stuff?”

“Oh I didn’t bring anything with me, just myself.”

“Not even your wallet or phone?”

“No, I mean, food and drink were provided and every person that I would be texting was there tonight.”

“Richard forbid you from bringing your phone, didn’t he?” Harry asked with a smirk and she sighed.

“OK, yes, he did…he said something about me sulking in the corner all the time or whatever.”

“You do look very unapproachable when you’re on your phone. You’ve got this like…broody, angry face going on.” He said trying to mimic it and she laughed loudly before they took off as the light turned green.

“That’s not my angry face, if anyone should be familiar with my angry face it’s you.” She reminded and he chuckled, “S’my concentration face. Like sometimes I get ideas and I start writing them in my notes or other times I’m reading a book or an article and it’s like so loud that it takes extra willingness to concentrate.” She explained and he smiled at her.

“Well maybe don’t read at parties.” He suggested and she glanced at him incredulously.

“If I don’t read at parties how will I maintain my reputation as mysterious and elusive, Harry?” She asked jokingly and he grinned.

“You’re so annoying.” He muttered as she giggled beside him.

“So where are we going?” She finally asked and he turned to her.

“Ummm, wherever you want to go.” He shrugged and she hummed pensively.

“Take me to…a place that means a lot to you.” She said and he chuckled.

“Here?!” He asked and she nodded, “God...this is my home, tons of places mean a lot to me.” He chuckled as he thought about it, “OK, I’ve got it. Hang on!” He warned with a big smile as he sped up and just made it onto the 405-S ramp.

Y/N’s hair was whipping back with the wind as they sped down the freeway. He was blasting Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac which made her feel like she was the main character because before he played it he said it was dedicated to her elusiveness and mysteriousness, which she appreciated. Soon he was signaling to get off on La Cienega and as they continued driving down the street she saw the giant Randy’s Donut donut and she gasped.

“You know, I’ve never actually been here before! Is this where we’re going?” She asked happily and he chuckled.

“It’s not, but we can stop if you want?”

“It’s alright.”

“You sounded so excited, like you wanted to stop. So I’m gonna stop.” He said as he started to slow down as they approached the entrance and she smiled at him.

“Well, if you insist…” she hummed and he chuckled. They found a spot to park and walked over to the window. It was 10pm but there were still a few people in line waiting to be served. “What do you get?” She asked him.

“Usually the maple raised, wheat and honey cake, or the red velvet one if I’m feeling particularly fancy.” He said to her and she smiled.

“That does sound good…” she said as she peeked around a few people to get a better look at the menu displayed on a big screen inside. “They have a fruity pebbles one.” She gasped.

“Such a child.” He joked.

“I didn’t say I was going to get it. Fruity pebbles are just super nostalgic and they smell amazing.” She defended.

“That’s true, they do smell divine…”

“Oh, they have blueberry…that’s it. That’s the one I want.”

“OK.” He chuckled.

As they stood in line Harry couldn’t help but notice that a few guys in the other line were ogling her a bit too much for his liking. They were obviously young since they were being obnoxious and loud, trying to get her to turn around, but she didn’t seem to be taking the bait. He leaned in closer to her and grabbed her hand, which caught her by surprise and she glanced up to him and he smiled down at her.

“Is this OK?” He asked her lowly and she nodded as she scooted a little closer to him as a light breeze blew over them and made her shiver. She was in a thin little party dress and her platform boots and the night was only getting colder, they were due for more rain over the weekend. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket he could offer her so he just pulled her in front of him and hugged around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile as her hands came up to his and she slotted her fingers in between his. She smiled as his warmth pressed into her back and she just leaned her weight back on him. He leaned down a bit to reach her ear before he spoke, “That’s what I mean when I said people are always trying to impress you.” He said quietly and her body shook with a giggle.

“How is being obnoxious impressive?”

“I literally have no idea.” He chuckled as they moved up in the line.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” They heard from beside them and turned to see a younger girl and her friend standing a few feet away, “We really like your album.” One of the girls said with a nervous smile.

“Oh! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it.” Y/N smiled happily, but she kept her voice down as Harry let her go so she could talk to the girls who started gushing about how pretty she looked. Which they were right, she looked beautiful.

Well, to Harry she always did, but she did just a little bit more when she had events and things to do. Often times he felt that when people did themselves up for events they went so overboard that they barely even looked like themselves, but not Y/N. She had mastered this effortless look that proved that a little goes a long way; she was almost ethereal. He liked that she didn’t care to hire a glam team to turn her into another Hollywood starlet clone; she and the rest of the band did most of their looks themselves. He recalls that at the BRITS earlier in the year she was crammed between him and Kassie, smearing some eyeshadow onto her eyelids and getting on her mascara just minutes before they would have to walk the carpet. Witnessing that made him like her even more. That was what drew him to them in the first place, their authenticity, and well if anyone was a champion of unapologetically being your authentic self it was her. She made everyone feel good about exactly who they were and he loved that about her.

“Harry, would you mind taking a picture for us?” She asked him and he shook his head.

“Course not.” He smiled as one of the girls handed over her phone to him. He took several and then handed it back.

“Can we get one with both of you too? You’re like a total icon.” The girl said to Harry and he shook his head bashfully.

“Hardly.” He said to her humbly as Y/N asked the person ahead of them to take their picture. After they got a few pictures the girls said their goodbyes and got back into the line. As soon as she and Harry stepped up he boxed her in between his body and the counter. “Hi, can I get a blueberry cake, red velvet cake, and a…large? Crewneck?” He said to the woman at the window and she nodded.

“What color for the crewneck? We have gray and navy blue.” She said.

“What color?” He asked Y/N softly and she glanced between him and the cashier.

“Oh! For me?”

“Yeah, you’re shivering and I don’t have anything in my car.” He said to her and she smiled at him.

“Ummm, I’ll get the gray one.” She said to the woman who nodded and then gave them the total before rushing off to grab their stuff. “I’m paying you back.”

“Absolutely not. This is your first time here, so think of it as a commemoration gift.” He said to her and she shook her head. “And if you ever try to pay me back I will return it to you in pennies.” He said and she laughed as she shook her head.

“You’re something else.”

“I know, love. I know.” He hummed.

“Here you are!” The woman said as she returned with the sweater and a baggy with their donuts.

“Thank you!” He and Y/N said simultaneously before walking off to the side. “Gimme these.” Harry said grabbing the donuts from Y/N and he gripped the bag between his teeth as he helped pull the crewneck over her head as she got her arms into the sleeves. Yes, it was oversized on her, but crewnecks were meant to be baggy, they just were. It was a bit long as well, it was a bit shorter on her than the dress she was wearing and it made him wonder what she’d look like in his own clothes. He liked wearing oversized things just as much as everyone else, so he’d imagine that she’d look absolutely swallowed and adorable in his hoodies. They walked back to his car hand in hand before they each had to get into their own sides and as they sat down she turned to him.

“I have to tell you something.” She said and he looked a little bit concerned but nodded, indicating for her to go on. “I really, really love that you don’t open the car door for me.” He looked at her with narrowed eyes, “I swear I’m not being a smart ass or sarcastic. Like when guys do that it just…bothers me because like…. I have functioning arms, you know? Like I can do that myself, I don’t need help! And it’s not like one of those general polite things, like holding the door open for someone who’s behind you! Like that makes sense, because it’s more than one person coming through the door! But in the car only one person can get into the passenger side so why does someone else even think to touch my door?” She asked and he chuckled.

“I can see you’re very passionate about this.” He grinned and she sighed and nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I am…for some weird reason. It’s just relieving and it just might be by favorite thing about you.” She decided and he grinned.

“Seriously? My unwillingness to participate in benevolent sexism is your favorite thing about me?” He asked for clarification and she smiled.

“Yes.”

“It can’t be anything else?” He asked and she rolled her eyes up as she hummed pensively.

“Mmmm… no. That’s it.” She confirmed and he chuckled.

“I’ll check again at the end of the night if that’s your favorite thing about me.” He said smugly and she turned to him with a grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What are you insinuating?” She questioned and he smirked.

“You’ll see…” he hummed as he started the car and they took off. They only drove a few more minutes before Y/N saw the Sizzler’s on her left and then the Forum right up ahead. “Oh…interesting.” She said and he smiled at her.

“Yeah.” He said to her and she hummed, really anxious now to see why this particular place meant a lot to him. They kept driving straight and went around the back of the lot and he wheeled to a stop. It was desolate tonight, which was rare. He put the car in park and she turned to him and he smiled.

“So when I was 14 we came here on a family vacation. Like my parents and sister and aunt and uncle cousins…I’m the baby of the family by the way.” He disclosed and she smiled as he shared this, “So…my oldest cousin discovered that Coldplay had a show and he’d missed their show in England and he wanted to go. My sister was also a fan and I mean, I was too.”

“Yeah, it’s Coldplay!” Y/N said and he chuckled.

“Exactly! So my cousin convinced the adults to let us get tickets, they didn’t want to bring me along because I was the youngest, but I wanted to go. Anyway, saw Coldplay, my first concert ever.” He said and she smiled, “And afterwards we were waiting to get picked up, but my stepdad got lost and ended up going another way so we were just hanging out, right over there because it was well lit.” He pointed to where the trailers and trucks were usually set up, “My cousin and sister went up to see the merch and I just waited there, with my other cousin like they told me to.” He recalled, “And then out of nowhere a couple girls started panicking and Chris and Will walk on over to say hello.”

“No way!” Y/N giggled with surprise and he nodded.

“Yeah! And he was so kind to everyone. I didn’t have anything with me to get a photo or an autograph. But I was the only child there so he gravitated my way, asked where I was from and he was happy to hear that we were from England. And me being the brazen kid I was, I told him I also sang and wanted to start a band with my friends from school, like they did. And he told me that he was rooting for me, to believe in my music, and to never give up on my music. And…so I never did.” He finished his story and she was smiling so brightly. His story was so wholesome it made her eyes well up, that was so beautiful! What an experience to have with someone.

“That’s so amazing, Harry. Like so fucking cool!” She said with excitement and he hummed and nodded.

“I got really lucky that night.” He said softly “And well, whenever I get stuck or feel insecure or like I’m losing my touch I come here and it reminds me to never give up on my music. To continue believing in myself…so that’s why this place means a lot to me.”

“And well, you’ve produced for Coldplay now. Did he remember you?” She asked and he chuckled.

“He kind of did, mostly because I was a British child at one of their LA shows.” He said as they laughed softly, “He didn’t remember what we had spoken about or anything specific. And I did tell him and thank him because, if he hadn’t said that to me I’d definitely be in a whole other world, you know? It was cool and so fucking unreal for someone like me to have that full circle moment that so many people never get.” He expressed and she nodded, “And you know, those of us that get to spend our lives drowning in our passion, making art, literally getting paid to live and experience the best life has to offer just so that we can commemorate it with our art…like we’re so fortunate and so fucking lucky. It’s hard to remember that sometimes with the dark sides of this industry or even just the fame. But this is the best thing that will ever happen to you, Y/N. And what you do now that you have this platform matters more than ever. And that’s why I like you and the band, you guys are so down to earth, you’re in it for the art, you’re in it to have fun, you’re all so genuine and yourselves…never change that. Because as long as you stay in tune with yourself, even when you get stuck or feel like giving up, you’ll find your way back.” He said with certainty. And as he looked back to her she was watching him intently and then nodded in understanding at what he’d just advised. “Sorry, that got super deep, super fast-”

“It’s alright. I mean, we were bound to get deep when I asked you to bring me someplace meaningful to you.” She said and he shrugged and smiled.

“True…”

“And I know that I’ve got this like look about me that screams “I learn on my own” and “I don’t care what anyone says”, but it’s just that, a look. I promise that after the whole thing with Dr. Auclair I started taking in and listening and considering everything you’ve said to me. So I just want you to know that I listened to what you’ve just said to me, and thank you because after feeling so overwhelmed by everything tonight I just… I really needed to hear that. And I’m not going to forget it.” She shared and he smiled as he reached for her hand she smiled as he slotted their fingers together. “H, hand me the aux.” she said and he grabbed his phone and gave it over and she turned the phone away from him to type something out and then she locked it before grabbing his hand again and second later “Champion of the World” started to play over the car’s speaker and he smiled down at his lap before turning his head to look at her.

“Nice one.” He said softly and she smiled brightly at him. She was in love with the way he was looking at her in this moment. Her smile slowly started to fade as she just took him in intently. She was memorizing the details of his perfectly sculpted face, memorizing the indecipherable feeling he was emitting through his eyes. Whatever it was, it was undoubtedly a good feeling. She started to lean in and he joined her in the middle as their lips met with blazing passion as these big, beautiful emotions surged through and between them. “Do…” he paused as his lips smashed into hers once more, “d’you wanna…go back t’mine?” He rushed out with his exhale before their lips met again. He felt her nod ‘yes’ but he wanted to hear her say it. He need to, so that he knew for a fact that he wasn’t imaging that Y/N, this marvelous and radiant person, wanted him too. “Hmmm?” He insisted.

“Yeah.” She mumbled, “Take me home.” She said quietly. It was so hard to tear away from her after she said that to him.

It was just a 20 minute drive to his house in the hills and the whole time they held hands. Once they got there they wasted no time in getting inside and to his bedroom. They were undressing on the way there. It was giggly and clumsy because for some reason she was leading while Harry called out directions to her, but her unfamiliarity with his space was showing as she bumped into things along the way. When she finally got to his room he picked her up from behind and flung her onto his bed. She shrieked as she landed on the mattress with a muted thump. Harry soon climbed over her and kissed her through his smile.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He hummed into her lips and she smiled. “I can’t get over it.” He exhaled before they started making out again.

Y/N whimpered as his erection rubbed over her dribbling pussy. Well, over her panties, but she was so sensitive that he might as well have been rubbing himself bare through her folds. A wave of warmth pulsed through her body as his lips moved down her neck. She arched her back as he started to snake his hands under to get her bra unclasped. He did so quickly and dexterously before pulled it away from her body and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She hummed with pleasure as the other was fondled with intent. He wasn’t being delicate with her and she loved that.

“Oh fuck…” she chuckled as he bit down on her nipple for a few seconds before sucking it hard. She was so wet for him that she was squirming as her cunt throbbed and pulse with need, “Harry. Harry, please.” She keened as she tried to find his hips with her own, “Need you inside. I need to feel you so bad.” She muttered into the dark as he sucked his mark on her breasts.

“Need me, baby?” He asked her before continuing to kiss down her body.

“Yes. Yes, I need you so bad…fuck.” She groaned as he kissed over her clothed cunt. He patted her thigh and she lifted her bum and he dragged her panties down her legs as he kissed right over her clit before licking through her slit and flicking her little bud a few times. “Harry, fuck that’s so good!” She whimpered. His licks started getting heavier and languid, sloppier even. She could feel his stubble and mustache tickling her already hypersensitive pussy as he moved his head from side to side with intent. Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair as she thrusted up to his mouth, grinding herself against him. She noticed that he grew more whiny and vocal as she used him and tugged at his hair and it made her even more aroused.

“You like when I use you to get off?” She asked and his lips turned up in a smile as his eyes fluttered up to hers, “I’ll take that as a yes.” She hummed before biting her lip and moaning, “Fuck, that’s perfect!” She praised him as he sucked her clit, brushing his tongue over it each time he’d suck it in, “Fuck…” She sighed with a smile, “y’suck my clit so good.” She panted as her tummy tightened deliciously with pleasure, “You’re gonna make me come!” She whimpered and he moaned against her, causing her toes to curl as her walls started to pulse hard and fast as she vibrated from the inside out. “Oh fuck!” She shrieked as Harry sunk two fingers into her without a warning and started to fuck her in time with his sucks on her clit. Not slowing down for a moment as she started to come.

Her hips wriggled around and her back arched as she trembled as he pulled yet another orgasm out of her without even letting her come down form the first one. Her ears were ringing and she was covered in goosebumps as the waves of pleasure rippled through her. Finally he started to slow down and then gently eased his fingers out of her.

“Taste so good, baby.” He hummed against her mound before kissing and crawling back up to her mouth. As soon as he was within reach she crashed her mouth onto his.

“That was the best head…holy fucking shit. That thing you did with the sucking and the tongue?!” She expressed with a bewildered smile.

“Enough to update your favorite thing about me?” He asked with a grin and she hummed pensively.

“I think not.” She said and he chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re such a turd.”

“Thank you.” She grinned and he chuckled. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I like still want to have sex with you. Like really badly.” She said and his eyes widened as he chuckled.

“Yeah, ummm, sorry I was just giving you a little break.”

“I don’t take breaks.” She hummed as he leaned over to grab a condom from his bedside table.

“Well, good to know.” He smirked as he knelt up to get it on himself as she repositioned herself against his pillows. Watching him roll down the condom with lustful eyes and a kiss-bitten lip held down beneath her teeth. He was so fucking perfect that it was almost physically painful. And well, Y/N could admit that he was also perfect inside, like where it counted. She pressed herself to sit up and pushed herself up to pull his head down to meet him in a deep and searing kiss. He let himself fall into it and continued his task blindly. When he shifted above her she laid back down as he guided his cock down to her entrance where he gently prodded at her leaking and tight little hole a handful of times before he surged into her. His thick cock pushed her walls apart as he glided in, in one fluid motion.

“Harry!” She gasped, back arched and body tense as he plunged in to the hilt with very little resistance, “Mmmmm you’re so deep!” She whimpered lowly.

“S’that where you wanted to feel me, baby? Are you getting what you wanted? What you need from me?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes, Harry…” she sang breathily as he started to pulse his hips, his tip nudged into her g-spot over and over and over, her breath was hitching and her legs trembling.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing so hard…” he hummed in delight, “Come for me, baby. Cream on my cock.” He panted and she moaned loudly at his filthy words as she came undone. She was coming so hard, she’d never had an orgasm solely from having her g-spot stimulated, it was game changing. A pressure had formed inside of her that she had never felt before, but it was as he had said, that’s exactly where it ached for him and he was satiating that perfectly.

His thrusts slowed down as she settled from her orgasm, but he kept going, slow and deep, not really letting the entire feeling fade. Extending and milking the pleasure for her as far as humanly possible. And it was happening as he groaned and picked up his pace. When he started going he knocked his head back and grunted with each deep pump of his cock into her. She was so wet, the sounds of her arousal sopping her up for him were unreal, she’d never been that wet before. She was certain of it.

“I’m so close. Getting so close.” He groaned lowly as his hips started to snap harder with each dip into her pussy. One of his hands slid up from her waist to her breast, kneading it and playing with it as he brought them both closer and closer to the final orgasm. She was a fucking goddess, he wanted to obsess over her until he had learned every single detail of who she was. “Fuck, rub your little clit. Want you to come with me.” He said and she immediately did as he said. Her orgasm started to build at double speed than before. She was quickly right on the edge with him, holding on just a little bit more, trying to get the most out of this moment together until their bodies demanded their climax. “Oh shit…oh…oh… fuuuuuck.” He grunted before he started to moan as his orgasm overcame him. His desperate thrusts and gorgeous sounds pushed her over the edge. The fact that he was vocal enhanced everything for her, it brought a feeling of pleasure to her that she’d never experienced. As they lay there in satisfaction, recovering from those incredible, earth shattering orgasms she spoke up.

“I like that you’re not shy with your sounds. It’s really attractive.” She hummed as she ran her finger nails down his arm that was draped over her body.

“You know, I usually am more of a heavy breathing kind of guy. But with you being how you are, I don’t know, I just felt like I didn’t have to hold anything I felt back.” He said and she smiled.

“Yeah…you can, do that with me, you know? For like anything you need…Not hold back I mean.” She added, “You can not “hold back” with me anytime and for anything.” She rephrased and he was just smirking as she tried to un-confuse herself. She only stopped when she felt his body shaking before he burst into laughter.

“I got what you meant the first time, baby.” He assured and she shook her head as she laughed. “And I want that for you too. To not hold back with me.”

“OK. I won’t.” She smiled as she confirmed this to him.

After that night everything between Y/N and Harry changed. Any rational human would think that falling in love after one night together was completely insane, but that’s exactly what had happened. The two spent time together every single day up until the day Y/N and her band left for tour. With his newfound time alone he decided to follow through with auditioning for that film he was asked to compose for and after a few nerve-racking weeks he’d found out he’d gotten the part. Obviously, Y/N was happy for him and they celebrated over FaceTime. But now that he had a new gig he needed to just take some time to get the compositions together.

Harry worked diligently on the film score for three months. He only needed 4 pieces as there would be other songs weaved through out the film. And then it was off to filming. Filming was in Canada and that went on for 8 months. Y/N had been able to visit after the band’s tour ended, but it was just for two weeks as they were heading back into the studio soon. And just like that it had been a year apart. Because he was working on his film, he couldn’t produce their next album, though during their down time over the next holiday he did give it a listen and share some insights with her. And then the following March he got some bad news from back home about his father and he headed back for a few weeks.

When he returned he was really upset about it, but he had solely come to break up with Y/N. His dad didn’t have very long apparently and he’d been away for so long that he decided that he needed to be there with him for as long as he could. He was going to look after him until the end. And well, Y/N completely understood why he wanted and needed to do that. It was sad, but amicable. And for the first few months they continued their routine of chatting regularly, but she soon discovered that it was just prolonging her pain. She wrote a song from it that she called “Good Grief”. It was about grieving the beautiful things, remembering them with love, and simultaneously talking about it being hard to let things like that go. That song launched them into an entirely new era and things took off for the band which ended up putting even more distance between the two. Harry also didn’t move back to LA, so they didn’t even have a chance to easily see each other and with each decision pulling them further apart they inevitably fell out of touch.

It was three years after their break up now and the two were doing well. Y/N was about to be engaged. Well, she assumed she was. Her boyfriend, Riley had been extra odd all week and her friends and family were oddly unavailable so she was expecting it. Harry had just moved back to LA after all that time, he just needed a change of pace after looking after his dad for one year and then dealing with the aftermath of it all for the next few. He was excited to come back, reconnect with some old friends…and of course, talk to Y/N. He hadn’t moved on, he hadn’t loved anyone like he had loved her and he just wanted to be back in her life, in nay capacity. She was it for him, he knew that for certain.

It was a day like any other, except for one thing…she was craving a donut. But not just any donut, a red velvet donut from Randy’s. She knew it was completely ridiculous to be driving out to Inglewood at 4pm for a donut, but she was alone for the evening and had nothing better to do since apparently everyone in her life was mysteriously busy. She got in line for the drive thru and as she glanced out of her window absentmindedly she saw a very familiar face walking over to the back of the line. She smiled wide and her heart did flips and her stomach fluttered with butterflies at the sight of him. Of seeing him here of all places. Her mind went back to that night he brought her here. How perfectly wonderful that had been.

“Harry!” She shouted out the window and he glanced in her direction and his lips widened in a smile as he waved. “I’m gonna get out!” She shouted and he shot her a thumbs up and got out of the line to meet her where she parked. She rushed out of her car and straight into his arms. He hugged her tight and spun her around as they laughed and greeted each other with enthusiasm. “Wow! How insane to be running into you here!”

“I know…” he shook his head.

“What brings you to LA?” She asked.

“I’m moving back actually. Just touched down and figured a little detour wouldn’t hurt.” He said and her eyebrows raised.

“Oh, that’s good. It’ll be nice to have you within reach.” She said with a smile and he nodded, “I’m sorry about everything with your dad. I wanted to call or something, but I didn’t know if I even had the right to since we haven’t talked in a long time.” She explained herself.

“You always have a right, Y/N. Love of my life, remember?” He said and she smiled.

“Light of my life.” She said as she reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

They got their donuts and talked for a bit before they headed off. She waited a few days and this intense need to see him again didn’t go away. So she talked to the band about it, they knew each of them the best and well, they all agreed that maybe they needed a better form of closure. So she reached out to Harry and asked him if he wanted to go for lunch. And he accepted, which is what led them to their meet up at Seabird’s Kitchen.

“You look pretty.” He complimented her as he hugged her quickly.

“Thanks. I rushed over from a meeting I had this morning.”

“Ah, work attire.”

“Yeah.” She giggled, “So how are you settling in? Are you back at the old house?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Nah, got something smaller. Got rid of that place a few years back.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” She pouted, “So many amazing memories there.” She hummed and Harry nodded.

“So what’s up?” He asked her and she sighed.

“Well…as you know, what we had together it was…magic. Literally heaven on earth.”

“We were pretty perfect weren’t we?” He smiled fondly and she nodded.

“Yeah…and ummmm, well I’ve never really been able to 100% move on because well…there were just a lot of things left unsaid because we kind of broke up and then you went back home. And I guess I just…didn’t want to talk to you about that when I knew that you were dealing with so much already.” She explained and he hummed. “I guess I just needed closure on a few things because…well, I ummm….” She swallowed thickly, she had no idea why she felt guilty saying this to him, but it just felt wrong to tell Harry this information, it didn’t make any sense, “I think I’m getting engaged really soon.” She said and his eyebrows shot up.

“Oh!” He said and quickly morphed his surprise into a smile instead of the frown that was clawing itself to the surface, “Congrats!” He smiled brightly. He knew that she had a boyfriend…but he doesn’t know why it never felt real to him. Maybe because he hadn’t heard it from her own two lips. Or perhaps because he was far away so it didn’t feel like a reality to him? Who knows, but reality hit him over the head with that one and he could feel his heart breaking over her once again.

“Thank you.” She forced her smile as best as she could. As she looked down at his hand she could very easily picture herself holding it in hers. She could see herself enjoying it and her heart warming as she pictured their fingers interlacing together. As if no time at all had ever passed. It made her feel afraid now as all of it started rushing back to her.

“Hey, are you alright?” Harry asked her and she nodded.

“Yeah, I just got distracted.” She shook her head, “Ummm, well anyway I just wanted to I guess give us the proper goodbye we deserved.” She said and he nodded with a broken heart but he stayed for 3 hours, catching up, joking around, talking, reminiscing until it was time to go. Harry was walking Y/N to her car since she had parked quite far down the street. And when they got to her car she had him hop in so that she could give him a ride back to his car. And they hummed to her music playing from her phone as they made the short drive over, and soon they were just saying their goodbyes. He was hugging her over the console, mentally saying a different kind of goodbye to her that was making his heart wilt in his chest. They were about to pull back when “Champion of the World” started to play and she smiled as she relaxed in his hold before pulling back a bit, their foreheads pressing together and it felt like no time had passed at all.

“We’ve been here before.” He whispered and she hummed in confirmation as her eyes fluttered shut to give herself a moment. This was hurting far more than she expected it to. It felt like they were breaking up all over again and this time it was her choice and he was complacent in her decision. It felt wrong to be saying goodbye to each other twice. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna fall out of love with you.” He said softly and her eyes fluttered open and she slightly frowned as she looked from his eyes to his lips a couple of times before just doing what her intrusive thoughts had been telling her to do since he’d shown up this afternoon. She surged forward and slotted her lips against his.

Harry didn’t hesitate to kiss back. One deep kiss led them to a stolen peck, then another, and then a deeper kiss, and more and more. It felt like they were kissing to makeup for the three years they hadn’t been able to kiss. There was still so much love between them, Y/N supposes it had just been dormant this entire time he was gone. And she had indeed missed how it felt to be completely and undeniably gone for someone. There wasn’t another thought running through her mind in that moment, so as they pulled away she knew that she was still in love with him. She had been this whole time.

“Fuck…sorry.” He whispered and she shook her head.

“I kissed you, so it’s alright. I’m sorry, if I kissed you and you didn’t want to kiss me.” She apologized.

“I’d never not want to kiss you.” He chuckled and she smiled with a heat in her cheeks from his flirtations. “Do you regret it yet?” He asked teasingly and she shook her head, but she wasn’t smiling. She was completely serious.

“I can’t regret anything that happens between us. It’s just a proper goodbye, yeah?” She said sadly and he nodded wordlessly.

“Hey, you better invite me to the wedding. Just because it’s not me, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there or that I’m not happy for you. OK?”

“OK.” She smiled and with that he got out and they went their separate ways.

She cried the entire way home and she felt completely heart broken. Like she had lost him all over again and she couldn’t be getting married to someone when she was in love with someone who wasn’t the person she was supposed to marry. She was so absolutely confused and it was affecting her work horribly. They were in the middle of some writing sessions for their next album and she was not being even a little bit helpful. Her mind was elsewhere. And it was like that for two whole weeks and everyone was fed up with her.

“Dude what is wrong with you?” Kassie asked her and she groaned.

“I don’t know…I’m really distracted.” She fibbed and everyone sighed, “I just…can’t do this today. Sorry, guys.” She said before gathering her things and heading out. When she got to her apartment Riley was there making dinner and it made her heart sad that it wasn’t Harry.

“Hey, love!” He smiled and the smile faded as soon as he saw her face.

“Ummm, he’s back. And I asked to see him.” She said to Riley who sighed. He had been there through the entire break up, between her and Harry. At the time he was a session musician who’d been hired to play on one of their songs. But he was so nice and thoughtful. But he also knew the love that she and Harry shared for each other. In a way he always expected their paths to cross again, but he’d just hoped that it wouldn’t affect her. But he still did, in every way apparently.

“When are you seeing him?”

“It was two weeks ago.” She said and he nodded. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was just hoping to get some closure on some stuff. But then I…I realized that I’m still in love with him. And I kissed him.” She confessed everything, “I’m really sorry.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” Riley said with disappointment.

“I know…I should’ve told you right away but I was trying to figure out what I should do.”

“There’s only one thing to do, Y/N. You said you’re in love with him.” Riley shook his head, “You know, I always knew this would happen some day.” He said lowly, “I was stupid for thinking you’d pick me though.” He said as he made his way towards the couch and grabbed his sweater and he furiously slipped into his sneakers, “Please, don’t call me when this all blows up in your face.” He said with spite before he slammed the door hard on his way out.

She frowned, obviously she deserved that, but he was a good guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he just….wasn’t the love of her life. Maybe she was foolish for thinking that things could start back up with Harry. Well, it’d been a few years, they’d been through plenty of things on their own, it was safe to say that they were pretty different people now. But the way things felt were exactly the same, it wasn’t just nostalgia. Being with him made her feel alive and in control and like everything would be alright. She was a bit stuck with her next step, as she weighed out her options. She sighed and decided to take a drive to the place that always helped her think.

The sun was setting as she placed her hands on the white rails of the Forum parking lot. After Harry left she’d made it her special place to come think. He had given this place a new meaning to her and it felt like the best place to decide on whether that goodbye they had was the final one or if she should give in to her desires and go after him. She stood there for a few minutes, just the sounds of the city around her.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” She heard and turned around to see Harry in his shorts and hoodie, smiling brightly and she smiled back.

“What brings you here?” She asked.

“Feeling a bit stuck…And you?”

“Same.” She responded. They were quiet for a little bit before she spoke up, “I think we’re feeling stuck over the same thing.” She said to him and he glanced to her, his eyes soft as he looked over to her.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Whether it’s too late for us or not.” She said softly and he hummed as he looked at her.

“Well what do you think?” He asked and she bit her lip.

“I told Riley we kissed…he told me not to call him.” She said and he frowned.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” She said softly and he glanced up into her eyes with a gleam of hope, “I’ve been in love with you this whole time. Waiting for you. I want us back. I-if you’ll still have me.” She offered a hopeful smile and he grabbed her face and leaned in to kiss her.

“Course I’ll have you.” He hummed with a smile, “You’re the love of my life.” He said softly and she smiled against his lips.

“And you’re the light of my life.”

As always, all feedback is appreciated!

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brandogenius · 3 months

Note

hiiiii! could you write julien x reader where basically is ex to lovers? 😭 like maybe reader is also on the public eye and the fans reactions to it? it could be a headcanon or a blurb, whatever it’s better for you!

thank u !!! pls !!!

this is such a cute request i have so many ideas for this one!

‼️RPF‼️

(NOT PROOFRED)

MINI FIC? - julien x reader - ex to lovers.

Request: “could you write julien x reader where basically is ex to lovers? 😭 like maybe reader is also on the public eye and the fans reactions to it?”

Word count: 1,749

(please let me know if you would like a part two! this was quite fun to write! )

everyone knew of you and juliens past. five years ago in 2018 the two of you were a pair. boygenius was starting to blow up and you were by juliens side ever since. julien wasn’t shy in letting everyone know that you were her girlfriend. dedicating some songs to you and posting photo dumps that include you in some of her instagram posts.

you weren’t as known as much as julien in the music scene. a small indie and pop writer. you had accumulated your own small handful of fans. majority of them boygenius fans, there in support to hype up their favourite musicians girlfriend.

you were seen on tour with the boys. promoting the release of their debut ep ‘boygenius’ you were just as excited as the trio. you couldn’t have been more prouder of your girlfriend.

until something changed. 2020 had come around and fans had noticed the lack in content with the both of you. you stopped appearing in juliens photo dumps. you unfollowed julien on twitter. julien took your tag off her posts. it was a devastating time for the fans. it didn’t take many people long to figure out what this all meant.

of course you have a handful of fans who respected what was going on. choosing to mind their own business and support both of you separately. however, with every bunch of food and respectful fans, you had the ones who didn’t understand what boundaries meant. screaming in your comments section or directly going as far as @ julien on twitter asking what happened between the two of you.

both of you have been keeping quiet about it until an interview was published, julien was promoting the upcoming release for her album when the interviewer dropped a question over the computer screen.

“i’m sure the fans are dying to know what happened between you and your girlfriend- or should i say ex at this point?” julien sat in front of the computer, an eyebrow raised as she watched the interviewer stare back at the musician. julien never in the slightest could imagine what audacity the interviewer had in that moment to ask that.

“well you see-“ julien fiddled with her headphones, readjusting them onto her head. she could see the interviewer sat there notebook in hand with pen firmly placed on the paper, ready to write down what she had to say.

“- there’s nothing i want to say on this matter. you’re interviewing me for my album right? why don’t we ask questions in relation to music, rather than my personal and private business”

the interviewer, taken a back quickly spluttered as quiet apology and composted themselves. going back to pre selected questions to ask in relation to music.

the question left julien in a sour mood for the rest of the day. the interview was quickly published. julien didn’t really want to check it out. having some small hope that the interviewer would be kind enough to edit it and take out that part but unfortunately not.

she knew it would stir up another wave of questions and panic amongst both fandoms. even if you were staying on the low side for now, keeping out of the public eye, she couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty - feeling a bit bad for dragging you back into this mess of chaos that occurred just only weeks ago.

you ok the other hand were a bit more composed. less hot headed julien. you simply ignored everything to do with the shorter musician. what happened- simple happened. it’s in the past you can’t change it anymore. you just need to go ahead and think of the future.

you continued to post on social media, posting tiktoks and tweeting. working on promoting your newest song virtually on home. most of the fans had moved on. coming to terms with the fact the two of you will most likely never interact again.

2020-2023 passes as quickly. both of you are doing your own thing. you are topping the charts with your album and singles. fans have definitely moved on but always remember. new fans are introduced to you and learn the basics. your past with boygenius member julien baker. the time you won your first award. your first world tour.

it’s the first few months of 2023. february is welcomed with longer days and a spree of award shows. your schedule was booked and busy for this month. you had a lot of interviews to attend in relation to your record you dropped in January. it was one of your proudest works to date. working hard on the album since your last one released in 2021. this was filled with songs you’ve written over the years that didn’t make it. lyric sheets that were shoved into your folder, uncovered and refurbished with better lyrics, tweaked and changed to suit your aesthetic.

one of your tracks - track 7 was one that got the most attention. 3M on youtube, billboard no1 charts. it was a bit odd since it wasn’t even your title track. fans heard it and went wild. theorising over the poetic lyrics.

it was an old song. one you wrote about julien. one about heartbreak and the feeling of yearning. you didn’t name anyone but somehow fans chose to believe it was about the boygenius member and they were right.

today was the billboard music awards. all different kinds of celebrities made their way through the red carpet. photographers and paparazzi shouting and wanting to get their direction

the boys came first. julien walking alongside lucy and phoebe. the boys stood in front of the backdrop, posing for photos. the blinding white light filling juliens vision. the sound of various amount of clicks were just enough to distract her from her own rambling thoughts for a quick moment. you were going to preform the newest song at the awards tonight. it would’ve been the first time the two of you seen each other since 2020.

a small nudge to the side by lucy had julien shaken out of her thoughts. the trio walking off to another background for another round of photoshoots.

not so long after. fans tuned into watching the livestream. you made your way onto the red carpet. fans instantly made a realisation. without knowing, you and julien were matching outfits. julien with a black and white suit. you walked into the photo zone with a black and white dress.

posing for the photos seemed weird. fans taking to twitter to discuss and theorise what the connection was. was it a coincidence? was it on purpose? you finish up with the interviews and photo zone and quickly head into the venue.

you took your seat at the table, you seemed to be the only one there so far so you didn’t seem phased. glancing up you raise your eyebrows in surprise seeing a familiar head oh platinum hair

just your luck that the all too familiar trio is sitting at the same table as you. you smiled as phoebe took a seat beside you. lucy and julien across from you.

fans would be in the building too. mainly up in the higher sections. you wouldn’t be surprised if you see all the fan pages posting about this later on. you knew you had to act professional and calm.

you jumped slightly as a hand tapped your arm. phone stared at you with a mix of concern and amusement. “huh?” “i asked how have you been?”

“oh- pretty good you know” you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lip. “making music and stuff” you took out your phone to distract yourself from the burning gaze of juliens eyes on you. like a second nature you can just tell. you chose to ignore it for now.

the billboards ran pretty smoothly. you won two awards and quickly went backstage to get ready for your performance. you felt a hand wrap around your wrist as you turned back.

“can we talk?” you turned around to stare at the smaller girl in front of you. julien stood there looking at you with a frown on her face. you glanced at the stage with a small sigh “you know i have to go on stage soon- can it wait?” you really didn’t want to talk to her- not when you’re about to preform a song.. essentially about her.

“after? please” juliens words were quiet. hesitent almost. you sighed to yourself, taking interest in the wall behind julien as you nodded. “fine - yeah. after” julien let go off your hand as she nodded. standing back as she ducked her head to walk away.

preforming for the first time in a while was a bit weird. you were so used to preforming on a web camera or pre recorded for saturday night shows, preforming to a crowd of a good couple thousand people was a bit nerve racking.

your eyes found juliens as you searched the crowd. locking eye contact you didn’t dare break it neither did julien. watching the shorter musician give a thumbs up and a positive smile made you feel calm. it made you feel more better you were able to preform the song without any worries.

finishing the song you took a deep breath and quickly thanked everyone before walking off the stage. you needed a minute to yourself to calm down before returning to the table. you sat in the backstage area, clutching a bottle of water in your shaky hands as you scrolled through social media.

“that was pretty epic” you looked up at the familiar voice. a small smile spreading across your face as you looked up. julien sat down across from you, fiddling with her rings anxiously. “you think so?” you chuckled.

“it was awesome! it’s your new song right? congrats on number one” julien leaned back in the chair. in the moment it felt right. it felt like how it used to. like nothing has changed since then.

“what did you want to talk about?” you tilted your head, being the first to break the conversation to the one both were too anxious to start.

fans broke twitter that very night. during the interval, videos spread across twitter like wildfire. you and julien walking back out onto the floor, hand in hand with smiles across your faces.

new theories started to arise. what happened? is that why julien left the table? what did you talk about?

#pom writes #julien baker au #julien baker x reader #julien baker one shot #julien baker fluff #julien baker x singer!reader #julien baker fanfic #julien baker x fem!reader #boygenius au #boygenius fanfic #boygenius one shot #boygenius x reader

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boydepartment · 8 months

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jake is the type of guy…

a/n: tbh……. i wrote this right after i posted the jay one. i am a HUGE jake stan if anyone reading this is new to my blog. i love my main man very much‼️

MASTERLIST

warnings- none just fluff

wc- 250-300

other members part-

jungwon heeseung jay jake sunghoon sunoo ni-ki

song- classic by mkto

jake is the type of guy who…

🦮runs away from you when he first sees you. if he sees an attractive person- he is sprinting away. jake would rather die than embarrass himself in front of you.

🦮 finds out through one of his coworkers that you thought he was cute. instantly, he is sprinting around seeking you out. when he does of course he gets shy again, he didn’t think approaching you through.

🦮 tries his best to act confident around you, but you can see through the facade. not that you minded, him being dorky added to you already liking him.

🦮 slowly starts to become more comfortable with making conversation with you. he was good at talking, not just calming his nerves around you. but jake gave it time and he eventually built up real confidence around you.

🦮 accidentally lets it slip that he wants to go out with you… like really bad… jake didn’t even know how he slipped up. but it happened! next thing he knew, he was going out on a date with you. and it went really well :)

🦮 even before dating he’d want you to put on the medicine for his sores on his mouth. the other members were stunned that him acting like that didn’t give you the ick or anything. you honestly were just happy to help.

🦮 treats you with respect everyday. jake never wants you to feel like you’re below him in any way, because you’re not. the relationship is 50/50, he never wants you to feel like you don’t have a say in something. the only time where it isn’t split equally, is if one of you is taking care of the other due to one of you being sick, or just having an off day.

🦮 absolutely loves when he can debate with you. jake loves that you both don’t have the same opinions on everything, he loves being able to discuss things on a variety of topics. he loves when you get passionate about the subject, jake loves seeing when you have a glint of spark in your eyes.

🦮 sometimes forgets things. if you change your coffee order abruptly, he will still sometimes order the old one. just give it 3-5 business days for his brain to catch up a bit breaking from routine.

💕🦮 jake is the type of guy who loves when you are your own person. he loves being able to hype you up with whatever you’re doing and he absolutely loves to show you off and talk about you.

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showtoonzfan · 10 months

Text

Yeah I skimmed through the whole episode (not watching the full thing or reviewing it sorry) and Barbie like…appears at the LAST second. She’s there for like, a climax fight scene, fucks off, and then the episode ends. Why wasn’t this episode about her and Blitz. It’s mainly just Moxxie and Millie doing this job, and it cuts back to Blitz trying to get to her I guess but man, what an underwhelming experience for a character that’s supposed to be important and Blitzo’s literal sister. She got hyped up and does nothing, and once again the ending is more about the writers making you feel bad for Blitz rather than Barbie herself. Viv putting her female characters last of course.

Also, Millie gets a song, (nothing character wise she’s just performing for a camp) and her and Moxxie end up actually having an argument for once. Millie actually ends up doing something other than just standing there and looking happy and cheerful, this side plot does create a conflict for the two, but it’s all simply because Moxxie is jealous and nothing else, and once they argue…Millie is all like “oh for once I feel important, like I’m something to be proud of”- I-…LMAO WHERE IS THIS COMING FROM?? Because now fans are ganna pull a “you critics happy? Millie got development”— when this is nothing.

Not once did the show indicate that Millie was feeling these feelings. Not once did she feel useless or unappreciated. See what happens when you don’t focus on a character or give them the time of day? You get this, and it doesn’t add up wether it’s a character exploration or not. These things are supposed to be just that, EXPLORED, not dumped onto us. Like on one hand I’m glad Millie actually cries here and has a moment of vulnerability but the writing isn’t good enough for it anyway because Viv doesn’t know how to write female characters or exploring a character properly. I can’t lmao. It’s just sad and I feel bad for Barbie fans too.

Also I like this design. Bye.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #helluva boss

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 10 months

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Imagine Part 4:

Rapper Erik and Y/N are official. How are they handling the new relationship?

“Tell us your name, gorgeous, and where you’re from and how we can connect with you.”

She blushed into the camcorder with a bright white smile and dark brown eyes.

“My name is Tasia. I’m from Houston. You can follow me on Instagram at Tasia Marie.”

The videographer panned Tasia’s body with the camcorder. Tasia gave him a sexy pose while seated in the back of a bright yellow 2023 Porsche 718 Cayman. She’s wearing a sage halter dress and her hair is styled in large knotless braids with sleek edges.

“Tell us a little bit about Tasia.”

Tasia pondered with a cute smirk on her face. She giggled and licked her glossy lips before speaking.

“I’m twenty eight years old. I love to dance and model. I’m a great cook. My sign is a Scorpio. I love to have fun and just…see the world, you know? Let’s get some stamps on our passports together.”

“I hear that! Now, you’re on set of E-rratic’s highly anticipated video shoot. He hand picked you to be his leading lady. How does that make you feel? Let the people know!”

“I feel special. Not everyday an opportunity like this comes your way. I’ve been waiting for the moment to star in a video with GRIZZLEY. And plus, backseat interlude is on rotation right now so it’s only right.”

The video set had a late night, city vibe with wet pavements and a low ambiance from the many colorful lights that illuminated the city of Tokyo. E-rratic wanted to take it up a notch and shoot his video in Tokyo, Japan; one of the places on his bucket list to travel to. He had an entire script to make it like a movie. KILL-OCHO is a wanted man by the Yakuza who wants revenge for coming into Tokyo and making a name for himself. He steals the lead member’s woman (Tasia) just because he could. It’s Tokyo drift meets street fighter.

The first two days on set were about filming for his hit single titled ‘punisher’ and now he was ready to give a little sexy, steamy realness with back seat interlude. The fans were begging him to make a video for the short song so he secretly decided to add it in the video to please his fans. It was never his intention but he’s glad that he did it anyway.

“Speak of the devil…”

E-rratic slid into the back seat of the Porsche next to Tasia with no shirt on, flaunting his muscular strength by picking her up and placing her within his lap. Tasia giggled and draped her slender arms around his neck. E-rratic smiled into the camcorder with his diamond-encrusted canines and dimples on display. Tasia couldn’t focus on anything around her except E-rratic. He had her in a trance. Thick, diamond chains hung from his tattoo-covered neck and diamond rings decorated his thick fingers. He smelled like money and looked like money. In Tasia’s mind, she couldn’t wait to taste the money on his plump lips. To even be within his personal space took a lot of strength to keep it together. In her mind, don’t no bitch want E-rratic as bad as she does.

Not even his girl friend Y/N.

“What are we about to get into KING KILLMONGER? Let the fans know.”

E-rratic gave a deep chuckle that vibrated his chest. Tasia could feel the rumble and she shivered in his grasp. E-rratic turned to look at her, his obsidian eyes low and wanton.

“This lucky girl gettin’ that exclusive treatment. We about to film back seat interlude. Gotta give the fans what they want, feel me?”

“And what’s that?” The videographer asked.

“Straight sexiness.” E-rratic replied.

Tasia blushes before pressing her face into E-rratic’s neck taking in a whiff of his Versace Dylan Blue cologne. He tapped the side of her hip to get her attention and Tasia discreetly gripped his hand to try and place it on her ass. This isn’t the first time she tried to get him to do something in between takes.

“Looks like everything is a go. Y’all ready?”

Hype Williams walked over to the car to make sure everything was good to go before he called action. E-rratic gave him a thumbs up while positioning Tasia to straddle his lap. She playfully bounced on him, her ass jiggling out of control.

“Aye, chill out,” E-rratic gave her a smirk but his tone was icy, “just do your part, girl. Sit and be pretty.”

Hype Williams walked away laughing.

“That’s no fun,” Tasia whispered, “You know what I want.”

“Yeah, I know. And you ain’t getting it.” E-rratic replied with a hushed tone.

“Not fair. I want what you gave that groupie on your tour bus…”

E-rratic ignored her and Tasia didn’t like that. She was going to get it out of him one way or another.

“ACTION!”

We gon’ fuck for an hour then we gon’ move to the back seat…

The water on set came pouring down like rain over the car. A neon blue light covered their bodies causing the white of their teeth, the diamonds they were wearing, and the green of Tasia’s dress to pop. Kill pressed his lips against Tasia’s ear as if he were sensually whispering the lyrics of the song to her. As if it were his own words serenading her. Tasia arched her back and combed her nails through E-rratic’s locs.

Watch how I blow that back out make yo’ pretty ass tap out…

Tasia looked into the camera with a seductive gaze while E-rratic continued to spit his explicit lyrics. His hands dragged from her back to her ass where he cuffed her booty for extra emphasis on the back he was going to blow out. Tasia started grinding her hips in E-rratics lap and biting her lip.

Fat ass on you girl I had to take that pussy in the back of my Audi

Got your face down and that ass to the north (damn that arch is nice)

“CUT!”

E-rratic gave Tasia a little push and she slid off of his lap and to the seat next to him. E-rratic climbed out and walked off for a smoke break so Tasia could have some screen time alone. She’s supposed to flaunt in front of the camera while the song plays in the background for added sexiness. As the camera zoomed in to her, Tasia moved her body in time to the lyrics. When E-rratic said to arch your back, she was face down, ass up in the back seat with her tiny dress almost revealing the lack of underwear.

E-rratic entered his trailer and cracked the door behind him. He took a seat in front of his vanity where his weed and pre-rolled blunts are. After taking a swig of alkaline water, Erratic sparked up a blunt. Blunt hanging between his thick lips, he pulled up his special girl’s number and FaceTimed her back at the hotel. After the third ring, she answered with a towel wrapped around her body and her expensive bundles clipped to the top of her head so it wouldn’t get wet.

“Hey, baby girl. I miss you.”

“Mhm. Not enough if you’re not here with me right now.” Y/N replied.

E-rratic’s eyes roamed over her body covered in a fluffy white towel. The amount of soft, brown skin that teased him was enough to make him go back to her. She gave him a look with an arched brow, challenging him to come to her and that was E-rratic’s favorite look. He loved it when Y/N got sassy with him. It let him know she wanted to get fucked harder. Longer. With his long dick. He chuckled when she turned around to tease him, bending over in the camera and shaking her ass from left to right.

“You know daddy got work to do. I thought you said you love that I’m a hard worker?”

“I do, but it’s going on day three of this shit and I haven’t been able to properly enjoy you.”

“Whatchu ‘bout to do?” E-rratic leaned into the camera with his blunt between his fingers, “Don’t do nothing that’s gonna get you in trouble, sexy. Thought I told you that pussy is off limits when I’m away? Don’t be hard headed.”

“Or what?” Y/N spoke defiantly, “Because you’re all the way over there, and I’m here. Can’t discipline me through the phone, Erik.”

“You talk so much shit and when I show up you sing a different tune. But I love it though, you real cute, baby.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and made herself comfortable on the edge of their hotel bed to apply some vanilla oil to her skin.

“Is that chick behaving herself or do I have to pull up?”

E-rratic’s intense stare and slight smirk distracted her for a second. She smiled at him before blowing him a kiss and licking her top lip lustily.

“I got it under control. You know the ladies love E-rratic. How do you think I got you?”

He gave her a charming, dimpled smile.

“How many times do I have to remind you that you belong to me now and those bitches don’t stand a chance?”

“You right. And you already know where I stand. So don’t waste your energy on these hoes. It’s me and you.”

“Actions speak louder than words…”

E-rratic could sense the lack of confidence in her voice. Clearly, no amount of words will make her feel any better. It’s what comes with the lifestyle. E-rratic is a wanted man. No matter where he goes, some chick will throw themselves at him. They drop the panties for him, take off their bras for him, cheat on their men for him, risk it all to get some of that dick from him. That’s just how it is. It’s been years since he’d been in a committed relationship. He never imagined himself being where he is right now with Y/N; a fan. Respectfully, she’s more than a fan to him. He couldn’t explain it, but it was something about her. She had something that he couldn’t resist.

“And haven’t I proven to you that I’m all about you?” E-rratic said, tilting his head into the camera.

“Yes,” Y/N peered at him through her lashes, “Maybe I still can’t believe that I’m with you.”

“You’re rare, baby. I can’t believe the hold you have on me too. You know what I can’t stop thinking about?”

Y/N got comfortable on her side, one hand holding the front of her towel while the other propped her head up. The curve of her hip beneath that towel had E-rratic’s mouth watering.

“What’s that?”

“…How you woke me up this morning with my dick in your mouth. Those pretty brown eyes staring up at me.”

“I could use some dick in my mouth right now if you were here with me,” Y/N said.

“Just your mouth?” E-rratic replied with faux shock, voice holding a bit of rasp.

“Of course not. That’s just the beginning. This pussy too.”

“Mhm,” E-rratic took a hit from his blunt, allowing the purple haze strain to crowd his senses, “Daddy’s pretty pussy?”

Y/N gave him a sluggish nod of her head with a tantalizing bite of her lower lip.

“I’ve been thinking about that phat pussy all day. That shit is mine.”

“All yours,” Y/N said with a giggle.

“I got some time to kill, take that towel off and show me that pussy.”

E-rratic didn’t waste time. He sat up in his seat, pecks jumping and ab muscles flexing. Y/N couldn’t see his lower half that well, only the band to his white Calvin Klein’s. That brought her back to his recent Calvin Klein ad. Y/N made herself comfortable on her back facing the camera. She took the towel off and spread her legs to reveal her wet pussy to E-rratic. His deep grunt sent shivers down her spine.

“I want that pussy in my mouth so bad right now. First thing ima do when I get back is stick my tongue so far up your pussy…Fuuck.”

Y/N spread her lips for him so he could get a better look at how soaked she is for him. The contrast of her designer acrylics against the smooth, glistening flesh of her folds almost had him foaming at the mouth.

“When I get to you, I’m a have you crying.”

“You know I can’t wait for that. You can find me ready and in position on the couch as soon as you get here.”

“Hmm…it’s like that?” E-rratic grabbed his crotch.

“All for you, Erik.”

“I love it when you say my name…it just rolls off your tongue all sexy and shit,” E-rratic smirked, “You gon’ moan my name?”

“Moan, sing, shout, all that,” Y/N replied.

“That’s a good girl—give me a second, I’m coming—they want me back on set—”

“They can wait.”

Y/N brought two wet fingers to her mouth to lick her juices off. E-rratic watched her with so much concentration. He slowly licked his lips as if he were the one enjoying her taste. If he could lick the screen and sample a taste, he would.

“Aren’t you so lucky that you get to have all of this?” Y/N said.

“Shit, aren’t you so lucky that you get to sit on my face like it’s your personal seat?”

The thought alone had Y/N rubbing circles on her clit. Her head went back and she let out soft moans that bounced off of the walls of his trailer.

“Can’t believe your favorite rapper eats that pussy up, huh?” E-rratic strained his neck to see if anyone was waiting outside of his trailer, “Got me talkin’ crazy right now…”

“Please hurry up, I need you,” Y/N moaned.

“I promise…hey…look at me…get your fingers off my pussy…I promise I’ll come straight to you when I’m done.”

Y/N kisses her teeth and to both of their disappointment, she closes her legs and sits up on the bed. Full titties with stiff nipples met his eyes and it didn’t make things better. The way his dick throbbed, you would think it was ready to burst through his zipper. The ache was uncomfortable and he didn’t know how he was going to be able to conceal a brick hard dick from Tasia. Have her thinking a torpedo is ready to blast off up her pussy with how hard he is.

“Aight, we gotta behave ourselves. Go put on a robe and order yourself something to eat. Give me another hour and I’ll be right to you, baby girl. We can fuck with Joshi Luck on in the background.”

Y/N gave E-rratic an adorable pout with sad eyes. He picked up his phone and puckered his lips to give her a couple kisses through the phone. She wasn’t going to be satisfied until he came back to that hotel. He already knew that she was going to make herself cum at least twice.

“You’re gon’ be a good girl for me?” E-rratic questioned.

“I promise.” Y/N replied innocently.

“Aight, we’ll see. I’ll hit you when I’m on the way.”

E-rratic ended the FaceTime and left his trailer so he could get this shit over with. As he walked back to set, he had to keep internally reminding himself to get Y/N off his brain until this was all over.

_________________________________

How could Y/N describe what being with E-rratic felt like?

Euphoric

Like a dream

Perfect

Her fantasy made into reality

The greatest feeling in the world

Not one word could perfectly express how she felt being with Erik. Her Erik. E-rratic Leader was her man. Saying that felt so unreal. Thinking about it felt like she was living a fictional life. She couldn’t begin to explain how happy she was. She never thought she’d see herself laid up in his hotel bed in another country wearing an iced-out Cuban link with her name on it or a diamond tennis anklet with his given name on it.

Just three months after the tour, everything happened so fast. Was this how it was supposed to be? Was this what God had planned for her? Y/N resigned from her full time job, packed her bags—even though he got her a whole new wardrobe—and moved to LA. After the first half of the tour leg, Erik asked her to be his official girl. Y/N said yes before he could even get his words out. She told her family and friends, despite some of their disappointment. Her mother was the hardest to convince. Her father’s opinion didn’t really matter to her since he’s hardly in her life. Her sisters and cousins were nothing but judgmental, and her friends were protective.

Still, every morning when she wakes up in his California king bed wrapped in luxury sheets with the highest thread count, she can’t believe that she’s sleeping next to E-rratic. Sharing a home with E-rratic. Driving his cars, eating food prepared by his personal chef, working out with his personal trainer, meeting his celebrity friends, and shopping with his money. She didn’t have to lift a finger. He had her set with racks. She could wake up and find five bands sitting on the side table next to the bed for her. He loved giving her bouquets of roses in different colors wrapped with individual bills.

Whatever Erik wanted, she gave him no questions asked. That’s what comes with treating your woman right. Dick in mouth, ass in the air, pussy for the taking. She wore what he liked, styled her hair how he liked, got her nails done how he liked. Before their trip to Tokyo, Y/N got his name tatted on her hip and her clit pierced with a golden topaz and titanium ring to match the nipple piercings. She planned to do her tongue next.

Everywhere they went, he would assert his dominance with his arm around her waist and his hand resting on her hip. He’d introduce her as his woman with such confidence and the biggest ego. So why did Y/N feel like it was all temporary? That he would find interest in some other girl and drop her back off to Detroit. It was all too surreal to believe it would last. Y/N dreamed of this. She was satisfied with just one opportunity with him, but to have him every single day, whenever and wherever, it blew her fucking mind.

With new fame came controversy. Y/N went from 2K followers on Instagram to 1.5 million. She had to limit her comments to avoid an influx of rude, nasty people and she had to stay off of Twitter. Don’t even get her started on the blogs. The blogs were eating her up. Groupie. Hoe. One of many to have E-rratic. Some say it won’t last, others say she won’t be the same when her heart gets broken. She had to block all of them too.

“When you let the shit people say get to you, it controls your life. You gotta ignore the bullshit.”

E-rratic knew first hand what it was like. He had to learn to live his life the way he wanted and not how people watching him wanted him to be. He wanted the same for Y/N.

“This shit is new for me too. I want it to work. I really like you, Y/N. Hell, I think I love you. It feels like love. You love me?”

The feelings she felt for him ran deeper than him being her favorite rapper. She felt as if he were her soulmate. That God sent him to her. It was more than being with her celebrity crush. She got to know him. Not E-rratic. Erik. Erik Stevens. Born and raised in Oakland, CA. A parentless child at the age of twelve. Living with his grandparents and getting into trouble. In and out of jail. So smart he got a full ride to M.I.T. How he met the love of his life in school and how she was going to have his baby before it was all taken away from him. How he turned to music as an outlet to keep his mind right. She felt honored and special to know all of that about him.

After eating her Japanese wagyu steak dinner and drinking some of Erik’s Japanese Whiskey, she fixed her hair and put on her YSL Cassandra Sandals in black patent. Y/N put on a little makeup with a bold red lip and put on Erik’s new album. She loved it. He was in his producer bag for sure. Some of the best music to come out recently. She already knew he was going to sweep at the Grammys. The imposing beats that gave way to nostalgic bops and transitioned into sexy instrumentals just showed how diverse he was. The lyrics hit every time for her. This was true art to her.

Take off the top, baby let’s ride

She want the boss, the one own the tribe

Arm out the window, just throw it when we ride….

His voice, the energy he was giving off, the sexy beat, the background vocals of a woman moaning. It was all too much.

I told her “I ain’t GRIZZLEY, baby, call me SEX.”

If you my hoe, I call you sexy (yeahhh)

I wanna see what you got inside

Can you make it say ahhh

Turn on yo side

While I switch lanes to pull over to the side

I promise it won’t hurt

Unless you make it hurt (yeahhh)

You know them other niggas can’t do it like this (yeahhh)

The lyrics to backseat interlude had her feeling herself. She knew that she was supposed to wait for him to get there, but she was naked and horny and listening to his voice couldn’t keep her under control. Y/N made herself comfortable on the couch and placed her glass of whiskey on the table. She got down on her back with her legs spread open and resumed rubbing her clit. To her surprise, she was still wet from their FaceTime. The song had slowly faded in the background and Y/N paused to play it again.

Y/N took a deep breath and relaxed. She closed her eyes. If Erik were there with her, he would be instructing her on how to touch herself. He’d tell her to start off slow and steady while rubbing her clit. To follow the speed of his soothing voice. She mimicked the speed of his voice on backseat interlude. She could feel her nipples hardening beneath the cool air of the hotel room. In her mind, she was envisioning herself sitting between his legs in front of a mirror while his hand did all the work and she sat there like a good girl.

“Erik…Erik…Erik…”

Two fingers slipped inside and with her other hand she continued to rub her clit. She brought her knees to her chest and moaned his name over and over again. The song had stopped but she was already close to cumming so it didn’t matter anymore.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to have your big dick inside of me…”

The anticipation was killing her. Every time with Erik felt like the first time. He was made to control her body. The way they’re bodies are in sync is both scary and amazing. He didn’t have to tell her how he liked it anymore, she knew what to do. From the kitchen, to the bathroom, to the floor, to the bed, she knew how to take his dick in every position possible.

“I’m so wet…I can’t believe how wet I am…”

Hee fingers were damn near slipping into a puddle of arousal whenever her fingers would pump inside of her. Her clit was so ridged beneath the pads of her fingers. She desperately needs his tongue to replace all of this.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck, shit…”

Hee inner thighs began to quake out of control and her body seized up like she was frozen in ice. Her mouth fell open with surprise and all she could feel seeping between her meaty thighs was her cum. A small puddle formed beneath her. Y/N inspected her fingers and there was cum dripping down to the palm of her hand. She cleaned her digits off and sat up on the couch, tacky skin sticking to the leather sofa.

Hee phone vibrated next to her and when she noticed his name she picked it up and answered.

“Open the door for daddy.”

____________________________

E-rratic gave BIG WILL the evening off and sent him to his room. There was no need for him to guard the door. E-rratic was rummaging in his jeans pockets, he realized that he left his key card back at the trailer on set. E-rratic pulled out his phone and called Y/N. She answered on the first ring.

“Open the door for daddy.”

She hung up in his ear and E-rratic could hear her foot steps rushing to the door. She opened it wearing a robe and E-rratic rushed inside and slammed the door behind him. He pressed his much larger body against her small, soft one and Y/N ended up with her back against the wall across from the door and her arms above her head. E-rratic interlocked his fingers with hers to keep her in place while his skillful tongue slithered into her mouth hot and heavy. E-rratic brought one hand down to open her robe while the other hand gripped both of her hands.

“You smell like sugar and sweat…you played with my pussy while I was gone?”

Y/N was so enraptured with him being there that she didn’t respond. E-rratic smoothed his hand down her stomach until his fingers were separating her outer lips to investigate for himself. He smiled slightly as his eyes bore into hers.

“And I can taste that Suntory Hibiki on your tongue. Turning up without daddy?”

E-rratic removed his fingers from between her legs and gripped her chin.

“You can’t speak now?” He said with an arch of his brow.

“I couldn’t help myself.” She finally spoke.

“What I tell you? Hm?”

Y/N looked E-rratic up and down.

“Okay…okay…I see what you want…let’s go.”

E-rratic grabbed Y/N by the waist and they walked to the bathroom. Inside, E-rratic instructed Y/N to take off her robe and undress him. She removed her fluffy robe and walked up to him, taking off his white T-shirt first. She noticed a lipstick stain on it and her eyes locked with his. He followed her finger and when he saw the stain he kissed his teeth.

“From set. She must’ve done that while we were filming in the car.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“C’mon Lil mama. You know I ain’t get down like that.”

E-rratic planted a kiss to her cheek.

“You tryna ruin the moment. I ain’t seen you all day.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N tugged on the hem of his T-shirt, “Maybe I should have been your video girl instead…”

E-rratic smirked at her before lifting her chin so she could look up at him.

“Say the word and I’ll do this shit all over again. I’ll make you the leading lady.”

Y/N took a moment to think about it, but ultimately she shook her head.

“Nah, that’s more money and time put in. She just better watch herself before I snatch her ass up.”

“You sure?” E-rratic tucked his chin and gave her a serious look, “I’m good for it, you already know that.”

“I’m sure. Now, where were we?”

E-rratic licked his lips, “That’s my baby girl. Finish what you started…”

Y/N continued to remove E-rratic’s T-shirt. The more skin revealed, the more she would kiss and lick him all over. When the shirt fell to the floor, Y/N locked eyes with E-rratic while taking off his pants. He watched her with a look in his eyes like he wanted to eat her up. When his briefs were the last to go, Y/N cupped his sack in her hand and got onto her top toes to get a kiss. Their tongues danced and their lips made sloppy wet noises the more they molded into each other.

Y/N took off his briefs and the way his dick was looking semi hard had her ready to suck it until it was fully solid in her jaws. E-rratic chuckled at her expression and turned to get into the standing shower with multiple jets. Y/N grabbed her claw clip and joined him, not caring that she had already taken a shower before. The warm water painted their skin and Y/N grabbed a soap sponge to clean him off. She started with his back, sudsing him up real good, amazed at how the soap tricked down his spine to his toned ass.

When he turned to face her, she got down on her knees and dragged the sponge down his torso and then squeezed soap all over his thick pole. She went to clean his legs and feet and when she came back up to his dick and balls, she used the sponge first to clean him, then she used her hands to stroke the soap all over his shaft. E-rratic looked down at her through the curtain of locs that framed his forehead. Water trickled down his body tantalizingly until his dick was free of soap.

“Suck this dick,” E-rratic commanded.

Y/N opened her mouth and wrapped her greedy lips around the tip of his dick. She went lower, her eyes never leaving his, until he was at the back of her throat. She closed her eyes to fight back the tears and removed her mouth, his dick with a string of spit dangling in front of her. She used her tongue to massage the sides of his shaft. She used her lips like a suction for his nut sack just so she could hear him groan.

“This my fucking dick,” She moaned.

“Then make your dick cum,” E-rratic spoke with a gruff tone, “Do what I like. No hands, all mouth, lots of spit. Make that shit nasty.”

Y/N engulfed his dick again and started bobbing her head up and down while her hand massaged his heavy sack. She squeezed his sack to keep him still and the more she did that, the harder he became in her mouth. So hard to the point where she couldn’t suck him all the way down with ease anymore. The vein on the underside of his shaft made it more difficult. She used her tongue to flick the deep vein and he hissed.

“Do that shit, baby, Gahdamn,” E-rratic’s brows drew together, “Fuuck, I’m gonna bust…”

Y/N was showing out. The slurping grew louder and E-rratic’s thighs started shaking. His fingers turned into fists and he threw his head back. All she could see was that perfect body and the length of his neck. Pre-cum mixed with her saliva covered his dick and she would slurp it up and spit it back out to make it as sloppy as she could.

“Stay on that tip…just like that…I’m gonna fuck you so good…SHITTTT!”

His ass muscles tightened and a stream of cum hit the back of her throat. He stared down at her with disbelief.

“You the only bitch to make a nigga nut like he been backed up for days…where you been all my life? Wish I would’ve wifed you up…”

Her eyes sparkled when he said that. He avoided touching her hair and reached for her hands. He helped her to her feet and immediately pressed his lips against hers.

“Let me wash you off now…”

E-rratic took the sponge and applied soap to it. He made her turn around so that her back was facing him and she placed her hands on the shower wall. He started at her shoulders, then he rubbed circles into her back with the sponge. His dick was sitting between her cheeks and his lips were pressed against her ear. After he washed her ass and then dragged the sponge around to the front, cleaning her breasts and squeezing the sponge so that soap could run down her body.

“You look good with my name tatted on your hip.” E-rratic whispered, “That let’s me know that it’s real.”

Y/N released a sigh of pleasure when E-rratic replaced the sponge with a soft rag and some sensitive wash to clean her pussy. With one hand he held her lips open while he gently cleansed her inner folds, careful not to get her piercing caught on the rag. When he was finished, he placed the rag on the side of the shower and turned her around to face him.

“Get your pretty ass in the room so I can have my way with you,” E-rratic whispered against her lips, “All night long, girl.”

_________________________

E-rratic had turned the lights off in the room and on the flat screen, wall-mounted TV, he resumed the Hentai they were watching the night before. Joshi Luck episode four titled ‘raw’. That’s how he was getting into that pussy tonight. The episode started off with big anime titties. E-rratic, still wearing his chains, was standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes on Y/N who has her ass in the air. She’s looking back at him over her shoulder, bouncing her ass in his face.

He got behind her and put his face in her pussy from behind. Not wasting any time, E-rratic started sucking her pussy from the back with both hands on her ass cheeks to keep them spread. The sound of slurping and sucking from the hentai and E-rratic had Y/N dripping on his tongue like she sprung a leak. She sat up on one hand and reached behind her to grab the back of his head. She dragged her ass up and down his face and he poked his tongue out so she could ride his tongue.

He could never get over the taste of her. That’s why any chance he gets, he has his mouth between her legs.

I want it like this now,” E-rratic got down on his back, “Get up here.”

Giggling, Y/N climbed over his face and dropped her pussy into his mouth. His eyes never left hers and she loved the way he looked below her. Y/N gripped him by his locs and started grinding her hips in slow motion. E-rratic followed her movements with his tongue all over her slit. She bounced her titties in her hands to give him a show and moaned his name. Behind her, his dick was saluted to the ceiling. A hard pipe to sink onto. She reached behind her to stroke him.

“That dick is so hard. You gonna fuck me good with this, daddy?”

He responded with his lips sucking her jeweled clit between his lips. Y/N let out a string of loud moans.

“The wetter I am, the better it will feel when I’m on that dick,” Y/N looked down at him, “Hurry up and make me cum.”

E-rratic frowned at her and Y/N knew what that look meant. He was going to give her exactly what she wanted and she better not run. He could feel her body tightening up above him. He couldn’t speak with a mouth full of pussy, but she knew to stay right on his mouth. Her beautiful face contorted with uncontrollable emotions and the hold he had on her hips took a lot of strength. His biceps flexed and the veins in his hands almost popped.

“FUCK DADDY!”

He finally let her go and she fell to her back. Wet beard and all, E-rratic stood up and cuffed her legs over his shoulders, dragging her along the bed, taking the sheets with him. Wet, pounding sounds from the hentai caught their attention briefly. When he turned back to look at her, a dangerous look in his eyes, he grabbed his big dick at the base and thrust into her.

“You cum in my mouth like that? Huh?!”

“Shit!” Y/N shouted.

“It’s wet just how I like it,” E-rratic snapped his hips into hers repeatedly.

The overwhelming pleasure had her lost for words. E-rratic didn’t let up. His dick was hitting spots inside of her she couldn’t explain.

“Oh, daddy, fuck, how did it get so far inside of me?!”

“Look for yourself, lift your head up and look!”

She tried but it was too much. The muscles in her body seemed to shut down. She felt tingly and weak all over.

“Hard headed, I said look,” E-rratic cuffed the back of her head, “You listen when I tell you to do something!”

She did her best, lip quivering and all. He would put all that dick inside of her and whenever he pulled out, it would only be a little bit so she could still feel his length. His many iced-out chains clattered against each other with his movements. Whenever he leaned over her body to suck her nipples, her knees would be to her ears and that dick would be balls deep.

The girth, the tip of his dick hitting the back of her pussy, his halls slapping her ass, the way he moved his hips, she couldn’t take it all at once.

“Squeeze this dick like that again,” E-rratic spoke close to her ear, “I’ll fuck this hole all night just to feel that shit again.”

“I’m gonna squirt!”

“Oh yeah?!”

He sat up so he could see for himself. Y/N slapped his chest to get him to slow down because the constant in and out over her g-spot was too much for her. It started sounding like he was splashing into a puddle and then soon she was squirting all over him. He withdrew his hips and replaced them with his fingers. Up and down he stroked that spot to get her to squirt again and this time she went into a shaking fit.

“Mm-Mm,” E-rratic maneuvered her body so she was arched, “Ass up. Don’t act like you can’t take any more dick.”

She got on her hands and knees and arched as best as she could. E-rratic smoothed her hair from her face so he could watch her expressions.

“Don’t run. Y/N…ASS-UP.”

He was growing impatient. Groaning and all.

“What I say?” He chuckled but it was out of frustration, “Girl…I wore you out that much? I’m just getting started. One squirt got you tapping out? You should see your back right now…”

She started straight ahead at her reflection.

“Let me get the whiskey.”

She collapsed onto her stomach. E-rratic laughed the whole way into the lounge area to grab a couple of glasses and the bottle of Japanese whiskey. Back in the room, he tapped her on the ass to sit up and he poured her a fresh glass of whiskey. He looked from the glass in his hand to the bottle before shrugging his shoulders and drinking straight from the bottle.

“Drink it all the way down, that’s it,” E-rratic bent his head down and stuck his tongue out to lick her neck, “mmmm…you want some more?”

“Yes,” She held her glass up.

“Daddy was deep in that pussy for real?”

Y/N nodded her head.

“I’m taking it from the back now.”

Y/N finished her second glass, “I think I’m good and turnt now for more.” She smiled up at him.

E-rratic took one more swig of his whiskey and he sat the bottle down next to the TV. Y/N got into position with her back arched low and E-rratic inspected her position, deeming it good enough with a slap to her ass.

“You know your back arched deep when that pussy open from the back,” E-rratic tapped his dick on Y/N’s clit, “You know I wrote a song about you, right?”

He didn’t give her time to respond when he entered her from behind. She gripped the sheets and looked back at him. He locked eyes with her and with only his hips he fucked her, her ass moving like a tidal wave. She could feel him in her stomach. Her eyes went low and she spaced out. E-rratic pressed both hands into her back and cranked that pussy from behind. She could feel the pressure from his hands deep against her back and she couldn’t move.

“I got you now,” He bit down on his lip, “Keep that pussy in the air just like that.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt tears brimming her eyes, “You fuck me so good I swear.”

E-rratic smiled at her with his canines gleaming in the dark.

“You throwing it back now? Ahhh shit,” E-rratic slapped her ass from one cheek to the next, “Bounce that ass!”

She couldn’t see the mess she was making on his dick and he wished she could. It was beautiful.

“I love you,” Y/N said between moans.

“I love you too, mamas,” E-rratic replied.

He meant it.

“Aight, daddy ‘bout to cum. Fuck the tip.”

His hands gripped her ass tightly while she slowly bounced on just the tip.

“Shiittt, got my shit leaking, ugh,” E-rratic thrust all the way inside of her, “Take all that nut.”

He groaned and Y/N could feel him throbbing inside of her. As her pussy throbbed, his dick was doing the same. He slowly slipped out and Y/N pushed his cum out so he could see how much he’d emptied inside of her. He used his fingers to push it back in before Y/N grabbed him by the wrist to lick them clean.

“Tell me about this song you wrote?” She batted her lashes at him while licking his fingers.

“It’s called my only fan. You really emptied the clip!” E-rratic laughed in disbelief.

Y/N sat up and grabbed E-rratic by the hips. He looked down at her and stroked her hair from her face with his knuckles, the cold diamonds of his rings causing her to shiver.

“I’m you’re number one?” Y/N asked.

“My one and only.”

________________________________

“The video shoot was cool. Y’all saw the pictures. It was giving relationship!”

“Listen, the amount of tea I have on E-rratic and how he was all over me in Tokyo. His girlfriend won’t know what hit her.”

Tasia Marie was trending all over social media with the piping hot tea she spilled on E-rratic Leader. Her Instagram live went viral along with a few photos from Tokyo. The first photo that she posted was of her straddling E-rratic’s lap in the back of the Porsche. The second photo was of her holding his room key card. The final photo was of her laying on her back inside of his trailer.

“He brought his girl to Tokyo and kept her inside that hotel the entire time. While I was on set getting it in with her man, she was at that hotel crying for help.”

“It’s like she forgot who her man is. The ladies love E-rratic. Why do y’all think he hand picked me to be in the video and not her?”

A popular podcast was trending on social media as well. The podcast is called Bri and Summer. Bri and Summer are two influencers and models who are best friends and came together to start a podcast discussing current topics. It’s nothing original about it, but as soon as the topic became about E-rratic, everyone wanted to know what they had to say:

“This your girl Brianna here!”

“And this is summer!”

“And welcome to Bri and Summer Podcast!”

Brianna kicked it off and didn’t hold back.

“Let’s get into the tea! Y’all know I don’t play around, I get straight to the mess. So, E-rratic is being E-rratic once again, chile! What’s new? He’s a hoe.”

Summer started laughing.

“You can’t tell me his girlfriend—if that’s even what you want to call her—thought that she was special? Somebody give her a hug!”

Summer chimed in, “Your man not too long ago was doing a fan like Melvin did Juanita!”

“He has community dick!,” Brianna argued, “That nigga got y’all bitches reciting lyrics to backseat interlude with y’all pussies barking. I would never let that nigga hit!”

“Hold on now, hold on,” Their male guest from time to time, DJ Quick, cut Brianna off, “Weren’t you one of those girls? Didn’t you go on a date with OCHO some years back?”

“Okay, okay! Let me clear the air! I did go on ONE date with him. ONE. It was cool, I guess. He took me to this fancy Korean barbecue spot in Atlanta and then we went for a drive in one of his sports cars. Wasn’t nothing happening. That was it.”

“Nah,” DJ Quick laughed, “You are really giving off salty vibes, Bri! Did that man diss you or something? He wasn’t feeling it the way you were so now you’re out for blood?”

“Quick, first of all, it’s definitely the other way around. He wanted some of this ass and I said no. He wasn’t feeling it so he dropped me off back at my hotel and blocked me.”

“Damn, that’s messed up,” Summer said.

“Right?! And yet, y’all acting so surprised by the tea Tasia is spilling! Granted, yes, she a groupie just like the next bitch, but I wish y’all beautiful black women would wake the fuck up! E-rratic is not the end all be all.”

“Brianna, if E-rratic and you were in a room by yourself, you telling me that you wouldn’t fold?” DJ Quick argued.

“NO! I’d rather swallow glass before I let that man hit.”

“I heard he was a great lover,” Summer giggled, “I don’t know… I’d let him hit.”

“There you go! Y’all gotta let go of the fantasy. This girlfriend of his from what I gathered, was another crazed fan who got a lucky opportunity to go on tour with him. He’s having fun with her now, but it won’t last. It never does…

If things could take a turn for the worse, it would happen to Y/N. The Tokyo trip was a dream turned into a nightmare as soon as she touched back down in LA. That bitch from her man’s video went to the internet to spread tea about hooking up with Erik. At first, Y/N didn’t believe it, but the pressure got to her, and she started to question everything. Where he was going and with whom? Why was that lipstick stain really on his T-shirt? Is it more than one girl or just her?

Of course he’s pissed. The music video was out and at 100 million views in less than five days, but he knew most of those views were because of the drama. This one proved hard to debunk because he has a reputation of being a ladies man. Before Y/N, he was single and free to do whatever he wanted, SAFELY. All that mess about raw sex with different women was an absolute lie. All the other chicks except for Brianna had never badmouthed him. And Brianna is just a bitter bitch who didn’t get a taste. Now Tasia is spreading lies just because she took a few photos.

He wasn’t going to feed into her trap. She knew he could air her shit out but he chose to ignore her childish antics and press on. The old E-rratic would have been the real villain and ruined her life. Despite her opinion of him, Erik’s fame continued to grow. Y/N didn’t think she would find herself getting into heated arguments with Erik about his whereabouts but here she was on set of a photo shoot sitting in a chair and keeping an eye on him. She never thought she would come to this, but the level of embarrassment she felt from what people were saying about her online got to her.

She couldn’t avoid her friends and family calling her to check in on her. Her mother kept questioning if she was making the right decision being with Erik. As soon as her mother starts to come around, this drama pops up.

“Miss Y/N, can I get you anything to drink?”

Erik’s assistant, Kiesha, a fine ass full-figured woman walked over to her with a bottle of alkaline water, a brand that E-rratic had a partnership with.

“Thank you, Kiesha.”

“Let me know if you need anything else. E told me to keep an eye on you.”

Y/N looked at Kiesha with a curious look, “Why’d he tell you to do that?”

“I don’t know. Just Erik being Erik.” Kiesha laughs.

Oh, so he’s Erik to you now?

“Oh, okay,” Y/N placed the unopened bottle on a table next to her, “Thanks.”

Kiesha smiled at her before walking away. Y/N glared at the back of her head. Why was she acting so fucking weird? Ever since Y/N started coming on video and photo shoot sets with Erik, Kiesha has been moving funny. That bitch better get it together before she ends up on her ass.

Erik was currently doing a shoot for his collaboration with Nike. In just a couple of months, his own Nike Dunk shoe will drop. Y/N was currently wearing a pair with a brown, blue, and green colorway.

Erik was looking too good. Fresh retwist, skin smooth and covered in tattoos, dimples deep whenever he cracked a smile, dressed down in the best shit his stylist could pull together. Y/N couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. Or could she?

Here comes Kiesha with water for Erik. She even unscrewed the cap for him and fed him some water. Erik thanked her and went back to posing. Y/N sat up in her seat and her eyes were on Kiesha like a hawk. What the fuck does she think she’s doing?

“Let me know when you need something, E!!”

E? Bitch…

“Kiesha! Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Y/N’s blood was boiling.

Kiesha sauntered over to her with that same smile she wanted to slap off her face.

“Yes, sweetie?”

Y/N did a double take.

“It’s Y/N. Uhhh, what’s this with you feeding Erik water?”

“Oh, aha, you know, just helping him out,” Kiesha smirked, “Why?”

“Why? Because I don’t like you doing that. He has two hands. He can do it himself.”

“Not while holding the merchandise. Erik—”

“E-rratic.”

Kiesha chuckles, “Mr. E-rratic gets the utmost treatment. I’m just being a good assistant.”

“You don’t need to do all of that. If he wants water fed to him, I’ll do it.”

They started gaining attention from other people on set. Y/N was past the point of giving a fuck. Too often these bitches stepped out of line. And the nerve of Kiesha to do it in front of her.

“He instructed you to stay here. Are you sure that’s okay?”

Y/N blinked at Kiesha like she lost her damn mind. Kiesha raised her brows at Y/N as if she were over exaggerating.

“I’ll speak to him myself to confirm that.” Y/N said with a faux chipper tone.

Kiesha walked away without another word and Y/N sat in her seat fuming. She needed to take a second before she did something reckless. Climbing out of her seat, Y/N walked off set. As she was leaving, she spotted Kiesha talking closely with Erik. Erik looked up and caught Y/N’s eye, his face holding a stony expression. She picked up the pace of her movements and entered his trailer. Taking a seat at his vanity, she exhaled and closed her eyes.

Did she over exaggerate? Was Keisha just doing her job? Whenever Erik does his boxing sessions with his personal trainer, there’s a woman who feeds him water through a squirt bottle. Maybe she was being overly paranoid. Maybe Kiesha wasn’t trying to hit on her man. After all, Kiesha knew Erik before Y/N. She’s his assistant. That has to be enough to be on a first name basis right?

“You got something you wanna tell me, Y/N?”

Y/N opened her eyes to find Erik staring at her through the vanity with his arms folded across his chest. He looked pissed.

“Not really if Kiesha already told you everything.”

“I wanna hear it from you.”

“Why?” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Because I said so. And because we need to talk.”

Y/N avoided his gaze. Erik walked up to her and placed his hands on the back of the chair. He leaned forward so that his lips were directly next to her ear.

“Well? What’s up?”

Y/N jerked her knee frustratingly, “I didn’t like the way she fed you water.”

“My hands were tied up, Y/N. How was I supposed to drink the water?” Erik questioned.

“And she's going to you saying shit like I’m some child. All I did was tell her I didn’t like it and if you wanted water I could do it.”

“You’re not always on set with me, Kiesha is. Kiesha been my assistant since day one. We grew up together, I trust her.”

Y/N clicked her tongue, “She wanna be more than your assistant.”

Erik clenched his jaw, “How you figure that?”

“She just acts too giddy around you. I don’t like it. It drives me crazy.”

“You ain’t have a problem with it before.”

Y/N shook her head, “You’re missing my point.”

“Who do you really have a problem with? Me or Kiesha?”

Y/N finally looked up at Erik. He was staring her down through the mirror with his black eyes.

“Ever since all this shit with Tasia happened you’ve been on my back. What I gotta do to prove to you that it’s only you?”

“Nothing, you ain’t gotta do shit,” Y/N stood up, “I’ll see you when you get home—”

“Nah, uh-uh, you ain’t going nowhere. We ain’t finished.”

Erik blocked her from getting out of her seat. Y/N tilted her head away from him.

“Talk to me,” Erik followed her movements, “I’m serious, open your mouth and talk.”

“…I just feel like you're gonna get tired of me.”

Y/N looked up at the ceiling to stop herself from crying.

“I got my mom in my ear and everybody else. This shit is just too much. I’m trying to be Ray Charles to the bullshit but I can’t stop thinking the worst.”

Erik closed his eyes for a second before he placed one hand on the back of her head, bringing her closer to him. She rests her cheek on his bare chest, her ear directly over his heart. He wrapped both of his arms around her and kissed the top of her head repeatedly.

“You can’t let what people think get to you. I’m not leaving you. You gotta have faith in that, mamas. I ain’t say this shit was gonna be easy, did I? I don’t want nobody but you. The only one I wanna see laying next to me at night is you. The only face I wanna see when I wake up is yours. What I gotta do to cheer you up?”

Erik gripped Y/N by the chin with his hand. She looked up at him with sad eyes and a pout. He leaned forward and kissed her lips. Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Erik still had her chin so he could control her movements. The kiss turned heated and now Erik is sitting in the chair while Y/N is on his lap. He broke the kiss and rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb.

“Like I said, me and you…”

“Forever?” Y/N pressed her forehead against Erik’s. His hands were rubbing up and down her sides.

“I want this shit forever.” Erik said.

Soon, his hands were doing the same to her ass. Y/N started sucking on Erik’s neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and started thrusting his hips upward. He shut his eyes and moaned in her ear. She was attacking the spot behind his ear with her tongue.

“Why would I fuck this up? You're special to me,” Erik lifts Y/N’s cropped shirt over her head.

“None of those bitches matter. Not Tasia, not the chick from the tour bus, not Kiesha…”

He unclamped Y/N’s bra and smoothed it from her shoulders. Her warm breasts touched his chest and he hissed with pleasure. With both hands, he cupped her breasts and brought them together. Erik rubbed his face all over her breasts back and forth. He spread each breast and rested his face between them. Y/N reached between his legs to stroke him to stiffness.

“I knew that’s what you wanted. You were acting up just so I could fuck you.”

Erik started sucking on Y/N’s nipples one by one. She placed her hands over his hands and watched him enjoy her breasts. He would swipe his tongue between the heft of her breasts and then over each areola.

“Won’t everyone hear us?” Y/N whispered.

“I don’t give a fuck. You know I don’t give a fuck…”

Y/N was wearing a denim skirt so Erik could easily lift it up to her waist and slip her panties to the side.

“Lift up…”

She raised her hips so that Erik could free his dick.

“Fuck me just like this, daddy,” Y/N teased him with a bite of her lip.

With one arm around her waist, Erik tilted his hips up and Y/N sank down on him. Connected, Erik gripped her sides and with his powerful arms, he bounced Y/N at a moderate pace. She braced herself on his shoulders while he controlled her body to drop down on him. Erik would look from the mirror to her face.

“I got that ass clapping…wet fuckin’ pussy…”

“Ooo,” Y/N moaned.

“This ain’t doing it,” Erik picked Y/N up and sat her on the edge of the vanity. He spread her legs and continued to fuck her. She gripped the edge of the vanity when he lifted her hips up. The vanity shook a little and Erik had to keep his eyes on the door. Y/N took one hand to grip him by his chains. He looked back at her, biting down on his lip. When she started to moan louder, Erik stuffed his fingers in her mouth for her to suck on and to keep her quiet.

He looked from her pussy to her face and opened his mouth to spit on his dick.

“Why every time I fuck you, your pussy get wetter and wetter?” Erik questioned with low eyes.

He brought one leg up to his shoulder and leaned in to pound her. Erik covered her mouth with his hand and locked eyes with her.

“What?” Erik raised a brow, “Too much?”

Y/N whimpered when Erik started stroking her clit with his thumb.

Erik’s eyes fluttered shut and then he opened them again to look at the door, “if somebody walk in on us I’m not stopping.”

Y/N’s walls clenched Erik’s girth and he smiled, showing off his gold canines.

“Do it again and watch how I put you next.”

She couldn’t control it. Every time they had sex, she couldn’t control what her pussy did. He blamed her for the spasms her slick walls were doing but it’s because of him that it’s happening.

“Time to put you on your stomach,” Erik slipped out of her and turned her around, “Bend the fuck over.” He said through clenched teeth.

Y/N went flat against the vanity and she could feel Erik lift her denim skirt and rip her panties off. He tossed the shreds onto the vanity and spread her cheeks with one hand. Dipping his hips because she’s much shorter than him, Erik found her entrance and pushed up, slipping inside with ease because of how creamy and wet she is.

“Fuck this dick. Make this dick cum.” He commanded.

Y/N threw it back on him as best as she could.

“For somebody that doesn't wanna get caught, you ain’t following directions,” Erik gripped her by her arms, “You ‘bout to have me blowing your back out in this trailer…”

Erik started pounding Y/N while holding her by the arms. Her head fell forward against the mirror from the force of Erik’s hips. On set, the music was loud so Y/N hoped no one could hear, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they did.

“Damn, this pussy is so good,” Erik let go of her arms and brought one hand around the front of her neck, “Don’t you ever question what we got. It’s me and you, and that’s my last time saying it.”

“I’m gonna cum—”

“Hold that shit in!”

“I can’t! I—ohhhh shit—”

Y/N had Erik’s dick in a vice grip. He groaned and pushed her head forward against the mirror. He could feel warm liquid on his dick and he smiled with satisfaction.

“That’s strike two. When we get home, best believe I’m gonna tear that ass up. I told you not to cum on my dick.”

He slapped her ass rough and brought her to her knees. Erik took it up a notch and slapped her in the face with his dick before smearing his shaft covered in her cum all over her lips.

“Put this dick in your mouth. Teach you a lesson to follow orders…”

Y/N tried to grip his dick but Erik slapped her hand away.

“Mouth. All mouth. That’s what you’ve been giving me lately anyway. Use that mouth to suck this dick.”

She lowered her mouth onto his dick and started sucking. Pussy dripping to the floor and not fully satisfied, Y/N was all jaws and neck. Erik would look from the door, to her, trying his best to keep his composure. Y/N pulled out all the tricks to get him to moan.

“You tryna make me moan, ain’t you? You know I like it when you suck my dick like this…FUCK.”

She savored the taste of him in her mouth. Erik took control with a hand to the back of her head, feeding his dick into her mouth.

“Just like that…just like that…mmm…eat this dick up…Fuuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Erik’s hand shook on the back of her head. Y/N stayed on that dick until she had the last drop of cum. When she finished, Y/N swallowed it all and licked her lips clean. Erik helped her to her feet and he excused himself to the bathroom to clean his dick off before heading back to the shoot. Y/N looked disheveled and she didn’t want to stay on set so she decided to leave.

“Here, take this,” Erik gave her the keys to his Ferrari, “And here’s some money, “Erik dropped a stack into her hand from his duffel bag, “Go get you something sexy to wear for dinner tonight and something lacy. Get yourself a new pair of stilettos too…those red ones with the skinny heel…yeah, the Louis Vouitton pair. Spend this on whatever you want. I’ll have my driver pick me up. We got a special night planned.”

Erik gave Y/N one final kiss. He stopped her before she left to fix her hair and her clothes. Satisfied he popped her on the ass and let her leave.

“I love you!” Erik yelled after her retreating frame.

“I love you too!”

Erik crossed his pointer and middle finger, signaling to her that he was locked in with her and he meant it. Y/N smiled, doing the same with her fingers, before leaving the set completely. Y/N may have thought that Erik would grow tired of her, but he only hoped that she wouldn’t.

She finally filled the emptiness he felt since the first woman to ever steal his heart left this earth. Maybe he could finally start the family he always wanted.

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