#lit. are they sausage rolls hot but.

[calamitys-child]

God I just absolutely cannot stop fuckin thinking about how funny it would be to do a drag number to, like, oh jean or something off of the back of "Yous come in here! Callin me weird!" "There's nothin weird aboot ye. You're just a man... in a dress... sellin a cooker". I'm possessed.

#heavy blue eyeshadow on one eye and matching blue tear tracks on the other cheek #to evoke the fuckin braveheart makeup #like just full hyperstupid scottish stereotyping #can you imagine #this post brought to you by gary tank commander running for first minister #awakening deep memories of the funniest show i ever saw aged ten and still quote almost daily #lit. are they sausage rolls hot but.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

It's Who We Have | Part Six

Summary: After dinner with Billy's parents, the bridge is difficult to rebuild | Word Count: 5.1k~ | Warnings: angst, family trauma, mentions of terrorism, heavy(ish) petting, billy going softie

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Lana was a little, petite woman, and yet she slammed the door so hard, it could have come off its hinges. She even thought she saw the family portrait above the fireplace wobble. 

A steady, raw silence filled the air at the dinner table. Billy’s mum stared forwards at the centrepiece, with two M&S candles lit, and sighed softly, as if disappointed that she hadn’t expected such behaviour. She remembers Billy’s dad huffing as he got out his seat and wordlessly stepped through the creaky french doors, pulling a bag of tobacco out his pocket to roll himself a cigarette.

She also remembers the cracked leather of the seat cushion, how her feet didn’t touch the floor and the gnawing ache of hunger in her stomach. The passing thought that perhaps this was the only hot meal she was likely to have for a while, and it was in someone else’s house. 

Billy remained quiet beside her, scraping the tongs of his fork against his plate as he tried to stab at a pre-cut piece of sausage, seemingly quite used to keeping silent after the usual outburst from his older sister. 

“Come on, chick, you’re alright,” Billy’s mum smiled softly, the lines in her cheeks deepening as well as around her eyes, coaxing her to eat once again, after being rattled by the incessant shouting and blaring of Lana’s teenage rampage. 

In the eyes of Mrs Washington, there was care, tinged with sadness that such behaviour had made the little girl sitting opposite her curl back into her shell, mouth sealed shut as if on instinct. And so, she chose to trust this mother’s nature, and ate slowly, grateful at least for the company of Billy beside her, non-judgemental and kind-hearted. 

He and his mum were always alike in that way.

"Mummy, can we play upstairs after—" Billy began, interrupted by the ringing of the home phone. His mum rose from her seat, excusing herself to answer it.

"Just a second, love," she said, her voice warm and comforting. “Hello.”

Even her voice down the phone had that warm embracing tone of motherhood.

But all she heard on the other end was shouting she actually recognised. Her own mum, clearly in whatever addled state, her loud screaming crackling against Mrs Washington’s ear. 

“Yes, she’s here- can she not finish her dinner first -” Val murmured, her back turned to both children sat at the table still, as if to shield them from the onslaught of verbal abuse, “-I understand she’s your daught- yes - yes, I’ll bring her home after she’s had her tea-”

The way the phone was placed back on the charging dock made her stomach flip with nerves. Combined with the solemn expression on Billy’s mum’s face, she heard the words before they were even spoken.

“That was your mum, darling,” she said quietly, carefully, her eyebrows arched in worry, “take your time having your tea, alright.”

And she did. She always would. 

“Hiya sweetheart!” Val's voice was wobbly as she greeted her at the front door, giving her a bruising hug that pressed right against her ribs, “you're early.”

She nodded with a tight lipped smile, “thought I'd come and help with dishing up.”

“Oh, don't be silly, duck. You're our guest!”

Armed with her first cup of tea in the Washington household, it didn't take Val long to be completely overwhelmed with everything she had going on, and resorted to accepting her help anyway.

Clearly, Billy's mum had been excited for this. A notion that warmed her heart. Val had gone all out, roasted parsnips, Yorkshire puddings, roasted veg, roast and mash potato, sausages and a cut of beef. Enough to easily feed six. And she found herself biting back a smile wondering if Val had realised just how much food she'd done.

Like most mothers, this was her love language. Making sure everyone was fed.

She felt a lightness that hadn't been there for quite some time. Billy hadn't arrived yet, and she knew that the second he did, the mood would flatten, become suffocating. Like a hug that is too tight.

His arrival was made worse by the fact that he was late, and his dad didn’t miss a beat in telling him off, both of his parents already on his back in different ways the second he walked across the threshold. Shoulders slumped in depression, dragging his body around on long limbs like he was walking through honey.

Jeff had no hope of noticing the rift between them, but Val certainly did when Billy and her locked eyes across the hallway, for a moment not knowing what to say. And it likely would have stayed that way, until Billy eventually cleared his throat and let his mum take his coat, nodding.

“Alright?”

She herself had to force her voice out, “Yeah, thanks. You?”

Conversation didn't improve further than that at the dinner table, though the warm, familiar smell of roast potatoes and meat flavoured with herbs filled the intimate space, she found herself restless, sat beside Billy, with Mr and Mrs Washington opposite them.

Thank god for Val. For if she didn't try, the entire evening would be dead silent and just the sound of clinking cutlery would be enough to drive someone mad.

“How is your new flat, chick?” She asked sweetly, eyes wide and genuinely caring, “settling in alright?”

“Yes thanks, it needs the little niceties but it's a good roof over my head.”

Val nodded approvingly. "Good to hear.”

“Yeah it's about time you got your own place,” Jeff gruffed, not even looking at her to see the sinking look on her face, nor the one of his disgruntled wife.

Billy felt the awkwardness. The skirting around what his dad really meant. And he sat, picking at a stick of roasted carrot, when his dad asked the fated question, “any luck on the job front?”

She could feel herself wince. And even saw Billy tense up in her peripheral vision.

Billy sighed, pushing his chair out, “gonna go for a smoke.”

“But you're not finished with din-”

“I'll be right back, Mum,” despite his mother's protest, he slipped out the French doors, searching his pockets for a cigarette. 

She watched him for a moment as Val elbowed her husband, “do you have to fucking start?”

“What? I was just asking!”

She felt the smile threaten, stabbing a honey-roasted parsnip as she listened to them bicker. But also a dull ache in her chest at Billy's retreat back into himself, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. It wasn't just the rejection from his friends; it was the sense of being ganged up on by his own parents, compounded by Lana's absence.

“How is it, love?” Val asked.

“Lovely, Mrs Washington,” she smiled kindly in return, “parsnips never disappoint.”

She'd never tire of the way Billy's mum smiled. “Well, take your time.”

She could've laughed. Some things never change.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Jeff retired to the living room, half asleep with a belly full of Sunday dinner and god-knows-what episode of Faulty Towers on the tele. And when it was time to leave, Billy gave an ingenuine, tight-lipped smile as his mum handed him his coat, “did you drive?” she asked.

“Nah, walked. Got a mate fixing up my car.”

It was near-comical, the way Billy’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice, as if startled she’d been there listening, “do you need a lift?” she asked, pulling her bag over her shoulder, car keys bundled in one hand.

Billy’s eyes lowered slightly and then rose again to her face, not replying immediately, which made her heart race fast in her chest.

“It’s on the way so…” she hated the desperation in her voice, and tried hard to will the tone of it away. But Billy looked forward to her, a slow, gentle recognition and a reluctance in his expression, shocked she’d even offered.

“Yeah, alright.”

After a slew of friendly ‘thank yous’ and goodbye hugs, she let out a shaky breath as soon as she sat in the driver’s seat, fingers curled around the leather steering wheel as if to keep them from shaking as Billy slid into the passenger seat, spreading his long legs into the footwell once he’d adjusted his seat all the way back.

Neither said a single word for what felt like a lifetime.

As she halted at a red traffic light, the harsh glow accentuated the lines of tension etched on her face, mirroring the fading twilight. Billy broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper against the hum of the blowers set on the lowest setting.

“Thanks for the lift.” 

One arm rested on the window frame, their eyes locked for a split second before the light shifted to green, “anytime.”

The silence that followed deepened the pit in her chest, making her feel antsy and nervous in equal measure. Billy wasn't faring much better, twirling his thumbs in his lap, and bouncing his left leg just to have something to do.

Pulling into the vacant spot behind Billy's battered Vauxhall, she felt a surge of apprehension mingle with the hollow pit in her chest. The engine's persistent hum seemed to mock their inability to bridge the growing chasm between them. 

And he didn't move to get out the car.

Billy sighed, his fingers rubbing his temple, “How do we do this then.”

“Do what?” she countered, her voice betraying a trace of defensiveness

He gestured between them, frustration simmering beneath the surface, “This. Us,” he answered simply, his throat bobbing as if stressed.

“I don’t think that’s really a question you should be asking me, is it?” 

Billy shook his head, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. "I just don't want this anymore," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

Her heart clenched at his admission, the reality of their crumbling bond hitting her with devastating force. "Neither do I, Billy," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of their shared silence.

“Can we just talk,” he asked, a shaking tone invading his voice, “please?”

For a fleeting moment, she gazed out at the street through the windscreen, her eyes scanning the darkening sky. It felt as though a weighty conversation had perpetually lingered between them, and now, in this moment, it seemed inevitable.

With a simple, wordless gesture, she twisted the key in the ignition, silencing the engine's persistent hum. The abrupt cessation of sound plunged them back into the suffocating void of silence, where unspoken words hung heavy in the air like an oppressive fog.

Billy sat in the heavy silence, grappling with the weight of unspoken words. He knew he needed to apologise, to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, but the fear of looking foolish held him back.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming nervously against his thigh. He searched for the right words, ones that would convey his remorse without undermining his pride.

"I just... I want to make things right."

She was quiet, her eyes looking down at the gearstick, without the strength to look at him directly. 

She shook her head, “why Billy?” she asked, “do you know how fucking heartbroken Abi was when he heard what you’d done?”

It was a mistake to glance over at him, the way her heart squeezed when she saw his head was lowered in shame, a whirlwind of emotions going off inside Billy’s head. Like he wasn’t sure what he should think for himself. 

Billy's heart sank as her words pierced through him like daggers. He couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, his shame weighing heavily upon him. Each syllable she uttered felt like a blow to his already battered conscience.

"I... I didn't mean to," he stammered, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was drunk, I wasn't thinking straight..."

His voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words to convey the depth of his regret. He knew he had hurt not just Abi, but their entire community, with his reckless actions.

Frustration bubbled in her chest as she shook her head, “being drunk isn’t an excuse. Last time I saw you, you were all ‘these people are stealing our jobs and ruining this country’ etc etc. What’s happened to that?” she countered, trying to control the steadily rising anger in her voice, “who are these people you’ve got yourself involved in? Because I know…I know this isn’t you, Billy.”

His throat constricted as her words struck him with the force of a sledgehammer. Shame burned hot in his chest, mingling with the simmering anger directed inward. He knew he had no excuse for his actions, but facing her condemnation made it all the more unbearable.

"I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the rush of blood in his ears. “I don't know what to believe anymore.”

For a split second, she felt the crush of his admission choke her with its oppressive weight, her throat closing up with emotion. The dread of being so utterly lonely radiating off him like a miasma. A barrage of emotions, memories, feelings threatened to overwhelm her at that very moment. 

“I've not been completely innocent in this either,” she choked out, though it was difficult to say. And she knew he was looking at her, so she stared at something, anything else, to avoid the horrible feeling she was being pitied.

“I'll say it how it is, because nobody else wants to. My mum is shit, has always been, my dad is god knows where, I was impossible at school and I moved far away to uni to get away from that horrible sick feeling that everyone had seen those fucking pictures of me.”

The words tasted like venom, even to herself, at the heartbreaking predicament that was her life. She shook her head, wetting her lips nervously, “turns out running away didn't fix a single thing.”

Billy sighs, “I feel shit that I wasn't there for you.”

“We were barely adults, Billy. That's not on you.”

“Even so,” he argued, “If I had pulled my head out the ground for one second I would have seen,” he says, “you deserved better.”

She chanced it then, and glanced over at him, swallowing thickly with something weighing heavily on her shoulders. A smile tried to find its way to her face at the expression she was giving him, so, so similar to how he looked as a boy and a teenager, but with the roughened and sharp edges that defined him into adulthood.

“You know I’ve always been jealous of you.”

Billy’s eyes were tinged with confusion when she said that, the blue of his eyes barely noticeable in the low amber glow of the streetlights outside the car.

She tried to swallow whatever bubbled up, “I remember the first time I ever felt it…that first day of school.”

His lips parted, and eyebrows drew together as he looked into his lap, “please don’t-”

“No, let me speak,” she insisted, her voice tinged with pain, face clouding up with barely-contained grief, “I just-I saw you with your mum and couldn’t help it. You were so happy. So loved.”

Silence fell between them, her words strained by her strength to hold back tears hitting him to his very core. Billy remembers so clearly, he’d be embarrassed to admit. Leading her into the girls toilets and using blue tissues to wipe off the mud. Her face wet with tears. He very nearly smiled at the memory of it, and what bond was formed from that day on.

“You were the only one who ever really saw me,” she admitted, “and it made me feel that to someone I existed…and that I mattered.”

It felt painful, this bridge between them, aching to be rebuilt.

“Now it feels like I’m losing you…” she whispered, “...when I had hoped I’d given you that feeling back somewhere along the way.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the rift that had grown between them. Billy felt the ache of regret settle deep in his chest, knowing that he had failed her in more ways than he could count.

But she kept going, the words spilling out of her like she had kept them locked up for too long, and they were yearning to escape. 

“So if these…right-wing, George Cross-waving twats make you feel like you matter then I have massively fucked up somewhere..”, the words nearly made a smile rise to his face, but the seriousness of the conversation made him simply just glance up at her, “..and for that I’m sorry.”

Her words cut through the tension like a knife, raw with emotion and self-recrimination. Billy's heart clenched at the pain in her voice, the weight of her apology hanging heavy in the air. 

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the space between them. "I'm sorry too," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

She wet her lips, drawing in a needed breath to fuel the tears that were now rolling down her face, her throat feeling raw when she slid her hand into his, fingers interwoven, the foundations of that bridge feeling all the more heavy, but manageable. And for a long moment, neither said a word, but it felt easier to bask in it, knowing that it was slowly piecing together the broken bonds that had once scattered about their lives.

“Promise me,” she utters weakly, “promise me you’ll stop this, whatever you’re doing with them. Apologise to Abi, Ami, everyone…I know you’re hurting but you’re better than this.”

Her honesty was appreciated but stung all the same.

"Promise," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Her eyes searched his, hope mingling with uncertainty. Slowly, a tentative smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a glimmer of relief illuminating her tear-streaked face.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for trying."

She felt something warm shimmer pleasantly in her chest when Billy’s thumb stroked against the back of her hand, along her knuckles.

“Sorry,” attempting to lighten the mood with a weak laugh, she wiped one cheek, trying to smear the tears away to make way for relief. 

Billy smiles boyishly, and there’s something light and nostalgic about it, “nothing changes,” he starts, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “you still look ugly when you cry.”

She laughs despite her tears, brushing them away gently as she responds, a softness creeping into her tone as their old connection flickers back to life. “Fuck off.”

It felt nice, laughing again, with the lingering hope that Billy desired real change.

“‘m only joking,” he murmured, leaning over the centre console, his other hand reaching out to brush her hair out her face in a motion that made her heart clench and warmth pool in her stomach, “you look beautiful.”

As soon as the words left his lips, the atmosphere in the cramped space shifted, charged with an undeniable tension. Their proximity felt electrifying, every inch of space between them tingling with unspoken desire. How many years had led to this moment they were sharing now, quiet and dark, their eyes alone communicating the depth of this impulse to inch closer?

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them, as if words were no longer necessary in this charged atmosphere. But the tension demanded some kind of release, some acknowledgment of the emotions swirling between them.

Billy's gaze softened, his hand lingering on her cheek. "I've missed this," he confessed, voice tinged with vulnerability. "Being with you like this.”

When she wet her lips anxiously, she swore she saw his eyes flit to them briefly, her reply taking longer than usual to form, "It feels like coming home," she agreed, her voice barely a whisper.

In that moment, the weight of their shared history and the promise of a future filled with possibility hung in the air between them like a tangible force, crackling with tension. Each heartbeat echoed in the silence, a drumbeat urging them forward into the unknown.

It reminded her of that night at Cranstead Fields. She can still hear the clinking of glasses, Libby’s high-pitched drunken confessions to Abi, sat on his lap, Paddy and Harry wrestling on the grass, white shirts smudged with green as they argued about who should go and fetch the football while Ami pulled at their shirts to separate them.

But what she remembers most about that night, was the taste of WKD on Billy’s lips, the warmth that bloomed in her stomach and flipped with nerves and the flush that rose to her face when Billy had turned his face, to press his lips flush to hers and parted them with the swipe of his tongue.

And that is what she felt now, bar the taste of cheap vodka, as once again, however many years later, it was sealed with a sweet but urgent kiss.

She felt his thumbs on her cheeks, fingers threaded through her hair to pull her close to him, and just like she had that night, her hand found its way to his chest, to feel his heart thrumming beneath his skin, the material of his shirt caught in her palm. And Billy felt her eyelashes against his cheek, it was a delicate dance, a balance between desire and restraint, as they navigated the uncharted territory.

But as their lips lingered, a silent understanding passed between them, a silent agreement that this was just the beginning of their journey back to each other.

When they parted, pulling air between their now disconnected lips, all they could do was look at each other, the waves of realisation that the lines between friendship and whatever this was were rapidly blurring was heart-clenching.

“Sorry-”

She shook her head lightly, “No…it's alright, really.”

They both knew that they had just crossed a line, blurring the boundaries of their friendship in a way that couldn't be undone. But despite the awkwardness, there was also a sense of relief in finally acknowledging the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

"We should... probably talk about this," she suggested, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, we should," Billy agreed, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and longing.

And as they sat in silence, grappling with the newfound complexity of their relationship, they both knew that their friendship would never be the same again. But whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

He cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy silence that hung between them like a tangible barrier. “Do you wanna come in? For a cuppa?”

She felt her heart race at the invitation, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. This was familiar territory, yet everything felt different now, charged with an electric tension that crackled in the air between them.

The offer of a cup of tea seemed mundane, almost laughable given the charged atmosphere that enveloped them. But neither of them made a move to acknowledge the unspoken truth lingering beneath the surface.

"Um, yeah, sure," she managed to reply, her voice barely above a whisper. Her tongue suddenly feeling too big for her own mouth as she undid her seatbelt and followed awkwardly behind him as he unlocked the street-level door and lingered behind once they ascended the stairs to his flat.

His flat had changed little from the last time she'd seen it, albeit the clothes were put away. The kettle remained untouched, forgotten amidst the unspoken desires that pulsed between them like a current.

Every breath felt like a struggle, the air charged with a palpable longing that neither of them dared to voice. But for now, they remained frozen in place, suspended in a silent dance of desire and hesitation. She felt so small, standing in his lounge, that when she glanced up and saw Billy leaning against the doorframe, near-filling any void space of it, hands tucked in his pockets.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "I don't want to ignore what just happened between us. It's... it's different now, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, it is. I mean, we've been friends for so long, but..." Her voice trailed off, the weight of their unspoken desires hanging heavy in the air.

"But things have changed," he finished for her, his voice barely above a whisper.

They both knew that there was no going back to the way things were before. Their friendship had evolved into something deeper, something more complex and fragile than either of them had ever anticipated. She felt her heart flutter sickly in her chest, the same way it had the last time they had kissed all those years ago.

"I don't want to ruin what we have," she said softly, her voice tinged with fear.

"Me neither," he agreed.

There was a long pause as they both grappled with the magnitude of what they were feeling. They had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and now they had to figure out how to navigate this new terrain together.

"But I can't ignore the way I feel," he admitted, his voice trembling with emotion.

Her heart skipped a beat at his confession, her own feelings laid bare in the raw vulnerability of the moment. 

And as they stood there in the quiet of his living room, their eyes locked in a silent understanding. The tension growing thick the longer they remained this way, and her heart lurching into his chest when Billy pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room to her in a few strides alone. So close, she could smell his fabric softener.

“I'm sorry I just can't,” he added swiftly, closing the space as she parted her lips to reply.

And just let go.

His fingers curled around her waist tightly, lips clumsily crashing together with desperation, years and years of denial, of longing, of sheer stubbornness, pouring out of each of them in crashing waves.

For a moment, she felt as if she didn't know whether she should touch him, hold onto him by his shoulders, and very much felt like he knew what he'd wanted to do much, much sooner than she had.

But the moment he pulled their hips flush, chests brushing, and her fingers slid up the nape of his neck to grasp the hair that touched his neck, it had felt right. The short, unshaven hair at his jaw scratched perfectly against her fingertips, and tickled her face the more he moved to capture her lips again.

His touch ignited a fire within her, sending shivers down her spine as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating whirlwind of desire. With every brush of his lips, she felt herself unravelling, melting into him with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

In that moment, there were no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal need that consumed them both. And as they finally succumbed to the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long, they knew that there was no turning back.

Her heart twisted in excitement as his hands made their way north, sliding up her sides beneath her shirt, thumbs drifting over her ribs to touch her in places she had secretly hoped he always would. 

And she couldn't help the cringeworthy slip of his name as he grunted breathily into her mouth, his palms moulding her breasts through the frustrating layer of her bra, but pleased at the way her body reacted to it.

“Billy -” 

How many years had he wanted to hear that?

She allowed herself the briefest touch of his skin, her fingers against his flesh made him tremble, and she saw the rush of feelings rise to his cheeks as he swallowed whatever he was thinking by pressing his lips fervently to hers instead.

The mere thought of being pressed close to her like this would usually have his body responding in tandem. But now, as his own hand paused at the waistband of her jeans, barely dipping beneath her underwear, he sighed to himself, embarrassed somewhat, and sorely regretted downing three cans of beer in two hours earlier in the evening when his body didn't reciprocate how his mind felt about her.

His forehead rested against the crook of her neck, hot breath batting against her collarbone. The pull of wanting to touch her like this, to just do it and make her feel every bit the way she deserved, was all-consuming.

But after a few empty seconds, he peeled his fingers away from the waistband of her jeans.

“Fuck- sorry…” he managed, out of breath, apologising for what felt like the millionth time that night, “can't…I've had too much to drink-”

“It's okay,” she smiled, the heat on her face feeling tight against the rise of her lips. She gave him a reassuring smile as she righted her clothes, still feeling the burning mark of his hands where they'd touched her bare skin. And as ashamed as she was to say it, the warm pooling of desire tugging at her belly.

“It's late, I should-” 

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

She deflated once she saw the alerts pop up on her screen, “fuck- road’s closed. Gonna take me ages to drive home.”

While she scrolled, agitation growing at the idea of being stuck in her car for another hour, Billy eventually spoke, “stay here for the night,” he said, it came out more of a desperate plea than an offer at first.

He quickly shook his head of a trance when he saw her face, “U-uh, I mean, no funny business, you have the bed, I can have the sofa-”

“I couldn't ask that of you, Billy.”

“Well, you're not asking, I'm - offering,” he smiled boyishly, in a way that made it difficult to refuse.

She sighed through her nose, “I've got to go into Central London tomorrow.”

“Well…” he sighed, rubbing his palms nervously against his thighs, “I was supposed to meet the lads at Farringdon Tube Station tomorrow, I'll take you down - get you into London and…I'll break things off with them. For Good.”

Swallowing nervously, she met his gaze, her eyes pleading for reassurance. "Promise," he urged, his baby blue eyes wide with sincerity, pleading with her to believe him.

She hesitated, uncertainty clouding her features as she searched his face for any hint of doubt. She clicked off her phone and nodded, with a hopeful smile, “Okay.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires-deactivated20 @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington fanfic #billy washington #trigger point series #trigger point itv #trigger point fanfic #billy washington x reader #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x fem!reader #billy washington x you #billy washington smut #billy washington trigger point #trigger point billy washington #billy washington angst #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters

[amyroseblog]

Day 8!! >_<

Hii everyone!! Today, I just relaxed at the arcade with Tails!! \(^_^)/

We played some Segasonic Arcade, some racing games (we both came last place (｡•ˇ‸ˇ•｡) ), got some popcorn in that fun little Sonic Popcorn shop game (I don’t know if we could have added flavours or not, but I wish they had caramel :C ), then we played that police game (kinda boring.) and FINALLY we played the Sonic Olympics game!! I felt exhausted after that, so I I just grabbed a Mild hot dog and tails got a sausage roll.ヽ( ´O｀)ゞ💤

On the way out though, Tails spotted a dance machine. I was kinda sceptical at first because it wasn’t ddr and didn’t have a screen, but apparently it played differently. The arrows in front of you lit up and you had to step on the tiles in the same direction quicker than the other person, which was a little confusing… buuuuut I figured it out with Tails’ help. Anyways, he unfortunately but unsurprisingly beat me. He was so fast at that game I couldn’t even see his legs!! Hanging out with Sonic has done some good for him!! ^_^ It was fun though!! I’ll have to come back with Tails again. Maybe even Sonic!! (>_<)

(hii!! If you read this far, please repost my stuff!! I’ve noticed that my activity has been going down and id appreciate any help I can get :,3 .)

Amy Rose signing out!! ^_^

#amy rose #sonic #character blog #sonic blogging #sonic the hedgehog #amy the hedgehog #amy rose blog #sonic fandom #amy rose art #amy rose fanart #amy sonic the hedgehog #amy rose the hedgehog #sonic amy #amy #amy rose sth #sth #sonic fanart #amy fanart #amy rose sonic #sonic art #sth fanart #sth fandom #sth art #miles tails prower #tails the fox #sth tails #tails fanart #sonic tails #tails sonic #tails

[judeswhore]

Sausage roll and yum gums, yknow that box you get for like a £1 with 2 in there. Hot chocolate Ofc… once you try it, you’ll never deny it ;)

i looooovvvveeee yumyums lit the most delicious thing in the world

[fartenthusiastwriter]

The Saga of Billy Boy Part 5 - The Start

Now that Clay has given the green light, Will is ready to tell Frank he wants to take the next step into Frank's gassy ass. If you need it, here is a masterpost with links to all parts of TSOBB.

- - - - -

The next morning, I got to work a little early. I wanted to beat Frank to the office so I didn’t have to run into him in front of others. I definitely didn’t want to see him making a fart joke to one of them. I logged into my computer and started working on a few returns. 

Frank walked in, setting his bag on his desk. “Good morning!” Frank chimed, as he got out his breakfast and walked over to the microwave. He threw the food in, starting it and turning around to face me. 

“Good morning.” I replied “I wanted to let you know I talked with my boyfriend.” I said, easing into the topic to see Frank’s response. 

Frank’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh yeah? How did that go?” 

“He trusts me to make the judgment call on if this is a good idea. He doesn’t have any hesitations.” I said. I hesitated before saying more, since I wasn't sure if it would cause Frank to waver, knowing Clay is my boyfriend. “He’s actually one of your training clients, apparently…” 

“Wait, you’re Clay’s boyfriend?” Frank asked, stunned. “Clay is my only gay client, so there’s not a lot of guys you could be talking about. Small world!” Frank laughed at the coincidence. I supposed after a second it occurred to him I still hadn’t given a straight answer on what I thought, as I noticed the enthusiasm from Frank started to fade. “So… does that mean you’ve made a decision?” 

“I have.” I replied. Frank’s anticipation was quite frankly hot, so I looked down and paused to build some suspense. “I decided there wouldn’t be any harm in giving it a try.” I finished as I looked up and smiled at him. 

Frank’s face broke out in a huge grin, as he quickly walked over to me. Frank reached me, turning around and jutting his ass toward me. He grunted and unleashed a brassy blast right onto my face. Frank looked down at me over his shoulder. “I’ve been dying to do that since the moment I saw you.” Frank said with a wink. 

I blushed as I quickly got aroused. “Probably not the best idea to do it at work.” I teased. I wasn’t really mad since it was incredibly unlikely Tony or Brad would come over announced. 

“Then, it’s a good thing Tony and Brad are at a client all week, isn’t it?” Frank teased back. I had forgotten they’d be gone. With that in mind, I leaned into Frank’s ass and sniffed loudly. Frank didn’t miss a beat, releasing another fart before I finished my breath. 

The microwave dinged, and Frank walked over to grab his food. Though his ass left my face, the lingering fart continued to waft into my nose. “I had a good feeling this would work out, so I added some broccoli to my usual sausage and eggs” Frank told me, with a wink. 

I bit my lip imagining the gas that was to come. I left this daze when I remembered all of the work that needed to be done today. “Well, that’s great, but I really ought to get started on my work.” I turned back around to face my computer. I heard Frank walk up behind me and before I could look, I heard and felt a fart brush against my face, Frank’s ass now pressed up against it. 

“My ass just wanted to tell you how excited he is for the intimate times you both will have.” Frank said, wiggling his hips to jiggle his ass. “He’s really looking forward to having a new friend to constantly chat with.” 

I rolled my eyes, despite getting harder from his banter. “Well, I’m not sure how good of a listener I can be while I’m at work.” I turned back to the computer. 

Frank pouted. “That’s what you have a new intern for. I’ll cut your workload in half, so you have time to take breaks with your new buddy.” Frank winked. He made a good point. Frank would be working through all of this as well. “He’s quiet for now, but I’ll let you know when he has more to tell you.” And with that, Frank went to his desk. 

We both worked for about an hour. Frank surprisingly didn’t fart once. I was starting to wonder how honest he was about not being able to hold it. But as that thought crosses my mind, an audible gurgle comes from Frank’s stomach. “Your buddy thinks it’s time for a break, William.” Frank announces as he starts to raise his desk. Our desks were designed to accommodate sitting and standing. “How ‘bout you take a break with him while I keep getting some work done?” Frank proposed, his desk now at standing height. 

I answered his question by leaving my desk and getting on my hands and knees behind him. “I want to feel your nose deep in my crack. You won’t get anything until I’m satisfied.” Frank demanded. I pushed my face into his ass as far as I could. The fabric resisted and made it difficult to dig in. 

Clearly unsatisfied, Frank put his hand behind my head and pushed my face deeper into his ass. To signal his satisfaction, Frank unleashed a barrage of several farts that went on for a couple of minutes. I eagerly sniffed them all up, coughing between sniffs. He knew what he was doing when he added that broccoli. 

As the barrage ended, I started to pull away, but Frank grabbed my head. “Oh, no. Your buddy is just catching his breath. I’ll tell you when your break is done. He still has a lot more to tell you about himself.” As he finished that sentence, a SBD eased out of his ass, followed by a light toot. I sniffed them up, as I started to wonder how long I’d be down here. 

I struggled to keep track of the time. Frank’s farts would repeat in varying increments. Sometimes he farted several times in a row. Other times, there would be a couple of minutes between farts. They all had the same familiar stench that I quickly became familiar with. I followed his orders and sniffed as much of each fart as I could. 

Frank provided more than just gas. He constantly teased me about the farts. He would warn me when one was coming, tell me to sniff them up, and talk about how awful they must smell. Frank seemed to love personifying his ass, because he continued referring to his ass as my “new buddy.” 

After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, Frank looked down at me over his shoulder. “Your buddy thinks it’s about time to get back to work. But he has MUCH more to talk about, so you’ll have to chat again soon.” Frank winked. I got up to go back to my desk, as Frank grabbed his lunch to warm up. I thought it was bizarre that he was having lunch this early, but I looked at the time on my computer and saw it was just past noon. 

“I was back there for 3 hours?!” I exclaimed, shocked. 

“You were a real trooper; I expected you to tap out, but you sniffed it all up. You really know what you’re doing” Frank flirted with a wink. He clearly was missing the point.

“How am I gonna get everything done now?” I huffed, sagging into my chair. 

Frank walked over to me and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Relax. I got just about half of today’s workload done this morning. Between the two of us, we’ll get the rest of it done easily.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “I told you. I’m going to make sure everything gets done. All you need to worry about is developing your relationship with your new buddy. He’ll take good care of you” Frank’s hand had slid off my shoulder down to my back, now lightly rubbing it. 

Frank was right. Between the two of us, it wasn't a difficult matter to finish what’s needed. And at the rate he got things done this morning, I could definitely trust Frank to do his part. I shouldn’t have worried so much. Frank was a gift from the heavens. I should have been appreciating that I had such luck to sniff a sexy man’s farts while he did my work for me.  

Now at his desk eating his lunch, Frank started to tease me again. “It’s too bad you have so much work to do now, Billy Boy. This chicken salad is gonna have your buddy dying to talk to you.” 

I ignored Frank’s teasing after being stunned by what Frank just said: Billy Boy. I hadn’t heard someone call me that outside of my dreams in years, and hated hearing it as early as kindergarten. Hearing that name brings up memories I’d prefer to forget…

- - - - -

Find out the origin of the nickname Billy Boy and his fart fetish in part one of the two-part prequel here.

Want to skip the prequel? Follow the story in Part 6 - Bomber here.

#gay fart story #TSOBB #gay farts #eproctophilia #gay butt #dom farts #man farts

[lattesforlife]

For those who live in New Jersey and those who visit . . . .

New Jersey is a peninsula.

Highlands, New Jersey has the highest elevation along the entire eastern seaboard, from Maine to Florida.

New Jersey is the only state where all of its counties are classified as metropolitan areas.

New Jersey has more race horses than Kentucky.

New Jersey has more Cubans in Union City (1 sq. mi.) than Havana, Cuba.

New Jersey has the densest system of highways and railroads in the US.

New Jersey has the highest cost of living.

New Jersey has the highest cost of auto insurance.

New Jersey has the highest property taxes in the nation.

New Jersey has the most diners in the world and is sometimes referred to as the "Diner Capital of the World."

New Jersey is home to the original Mystery Pork Parts Club (not Spam): Taylor Ham or Pork Roll.

Home to the less mysterious but the best Italian hot dogs and Italian sausage w/peppers and onions.

North Jersey has the most shopping malls in one area in the world, with seven major shopping malls in a 25 square mile radius.

The Passaic River was the site of the first submarine ride by inventor John P. Holland .

New Jersey has 50+ resort cities & towns; some of the nation's most famous: Asbury Park, Wildwood, Atlantic City, Seaside Heights, Cape May.

New Jersey has the most stringent testing along its coastline for water quality control than any other seaboard state in the entire country.

New Jersey is a leading technology & industrial state and is the largest chemical producing state in the nation when you include pharmaceuticals.

Jersey tomatoes are known the world over as being the best you can buy.

New Jersey is the world leader in blueberry and cranberry production (and here you thought Massachusetts?)

Here's to New Jersey - the toast of the country! In 1642, the first brewery in America, opened in Hoboken.

New Jersey rocks! The famous Les Paul invented the first solid body electric guitar in Mahwah, in 1940.

New Jersey is a major seaport state with the largest seaport in the US, located in Elizabeth. Nearly 80 percent of what our nation imports comes through Elizabeth Seaport first.

New Jersey is home to one of the nation's busiest airports (in Newark), Liberty International.

George Washington slept there.

Several important Revolutionary War battles were fought on New Jersey soil, led by General George Washington.

The light bulb, phonograph (record player), and motion picture projector, were invented by Thomas Edison in his Menlo Park, NJ, laboratory

Jersey also boasts the first town lit by incandescent bulbs. The first seaplane was built in Keyport , NJ.

The first airmail (to Chicago) was started from Keyport, NJ.

The first phonograph records were made in Camden, NJ

New Jersey was home to the Miss America Pageant held in Atlantic City.

The game Monopoly, played all over the world, named the streets on its playing board after the actual streets in Atlantic City. And, Atlantic City has the longest boardwalk in the world, not to mention salt water taffy. ( Now made in Pennsylvania)..

New Jersey has the largest petroleum containment area outside of the Middle East countries.

The first Indian reservation was in New Jersey, in the Watchung Mountains

New Jersey has the tallest water-tower in the world. (Union, NJ!!!)

New Jersey had the first medical center, in Jersey City

The Pulaski Sky Way, from Jersey City to Newark, was the first skyway highway.

New Jersey built the first tunnel under a river, the Hudson (Holland Tunnel).

The first baseball game was played in Hoboken, NJ, which is also the birthplace of Frank Sinatra.

The first intercollegiate football game was played in New Brunswick in 1889 (Rutgers College played Princeton).

The first drive-in movie theater was opened in Camden, NJ, (but they're all gone now!).

New Jersey is home to both of "NEW YORK'S" pro football teams!

The first radio station and broadcast was in Paterson, NJ.

The first FM radio broadcast was made from Alpine, NJ, by Maj. Thomas Armstrong.

All New Jersey natives: Sal Martorano, Jack Nicholson, Bruce Springsteen, Bon Jovi, Jason Alexander, Queen Latifah, Susan Sarandon, Connie Francis, Shaq, Judy Blume, Aaron Burr, Joan Robertson, Ken Kross, Dionne Warwick, Sarah Vaughn, Budd Abbott, Lou Costello, Alan Ginsberg, Norman Mailer, Marilynn McCoo, Flip Wilson, Alexander Hamilton, Zack Braff Whitney Houston, Eddie Money, Linda McElroy, Eileen Donnelly, Grover Cleveland, Woodrow Wilson, Walt Whitman, Jerry Lewis, Tom Cruise, Joyce Kilmer, Bruce Willis, Caesar Romero, Lauryn Hill, Ice-T, Nick Adams, Nathan Lane, Sandra Dee, Danny DeVito, Richard Conti, Joe Pesci, Joe Piscopo, Joe DePasquale, Robert Blake, John Forsythe, Meryl Streep, Loretta Swit, Norman Lloyd, Paul Simon, Jerry Herman, Gorden McCrae, Kevin Spacey, John Travolta, Phyllis Newman, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Eva Marie Saint, Elisabeth Shue, Zebulon Pike, James Fennimore Cooper, Admiral Wm.Halsey,Jr.,Norman Schwarzkopf, Dave Thomas (Wendy's), William Carlos Williams, Ray Liotta, Robert Wuhl, Bob Reyers, Paul Robeson, Ernie Kovacs, Joseph Macchia, Kelly Ripa, and Francis Albert Sinatra and "Uncle Floyd" Vivino.

The Great Falls in Paterson, on the Passaic River, is the 2nd highest waterfall on the East Coast of the US.

You know you're from Jersey when . . . .

You don't think of fruit when people mention "The Oranges." You know that it's called Great Adventure, not Six Flags. A good, quick breakfast is a hard roll with butter. You've known the way to Seaside Heights since you were seven. You know that the state isn't one big oil refinery. At least three people in your family still love Bruce Springsteen, and you know the town Jon Bon Jovi is from. You know what a "jug handle" is. You know that WaWa is a convenience store. You know that the state isn't all farmland. You know that there are no "beaches" in New Jersey--there's the shore--and you don't go "to the shore," you go "down the shore." And when you are there, you're not "at the shore"; you are "down the shore." You know how to properly negotiate a circle. You knew that the last sentence had to do with driving. You know that this is the only "New" state that doesn't require "New" to identify it (try . . Mexico . . . York ..! . . Hampshire-- doesn't work, does it?). You know that a "White Castle" is the name of BOTH a fast food chain AND a fast food sandwich. You consider putting mayo on a corned beef sandwich a sacrilege. You don't think "What exit?" is very funny. You know that people from the 609 area code are "a little different." Yes they are! You know that no respectable New Jerseyan goes to Princeton--that's for out-of-staters. You live within 20 minutes of at least three different malls. You refer to all highways and interstates by their numbers. Every year you have at least one kid in your class named Tony. You know the location of every clip shown in the Sopranos opening credits. You've gotten on the wrong highway trying to get out of the mall. You know that people from North Jersey go to Seaside Heights, and people from Central Jersey go to LBI, and people from South Jersey go to Wildwood. It can be no other way. You weren't raised in New Jersey--you were raised in either North Jersey, Central Jersey or South Jersey. You don't consider Camden to actually be part of the state You remember the stores Korvette's, Two Guys, Rickel's, Channel, Bamberger's and Orbach's. You also remember Palisades Amusement Park. You've had a boardwalk cheese steak and vinegar fries. You start planning for Memorial Day weekend in February.

And finally . .

You've NEVER, NEVER NEVER, EVER pumped your own gas.

(Copied from a friend)

[nolanhollogay]

❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜

vincetate ! [everyone but me boos]

+

As abnormal as it may seem, Tate was comfortable with the weight of a gun in his hand. He'd been doing shooting practice in the backyard for years at this point, since his 13th birthday. (All he'd wanted that year was a new bike. Instead he got a pistol.)

Since then, every first Saturday of the month, he'd shoot at targets. Well, except for those two godawful months in New York – which was incredibly ironic given that it could be argued he'd need a gun more there than in Woodsboro.

Seeing as it was the first Saturday of June, Tate was behind the trailer, gun in hand. His dad named her Monica, after some sitcom character who apparently looked just like his mom. Tate didn't use the name, or see the resemblance.

His dad watched as he shot at the paper targets he'd hung that morning, face crinkled in concentration.

"Aim for the head, Tater Tot," he said, lazily. He was daydrinking again, a can of beer in the cupholder of the chair he was sitting in.

Tate groaned. His aim was shit, no matter what he did. "You know I'm not good at this."

"That's why we practice," his dad said, sweetly, voice gentle. He rarely yelled, even when Tate did stupid shit, even when he was so pissed off he couldn't find the words. Tate loved him for it. "I'm gonna go order pizza. You keep trying, alright?"

"Yeah, dad." He waited until his dad was inside to pull out his phone, the arm holding the gun dropping to his side.

He was met with his usual notifications. Tara and Mindy having a heated debate about a horror movie – in this case, Hereditary – in the group chat, with Wes trying to get them to relax. An Instagram notification from Nancy, who posted yet another picture of her dog. A text from Chad.

Heart sinking then rising like he was on a rollercoaster, he clicked on the text.

From: chad !!

are you going to be MIA all summer? we miss you :( and you know the gc can't handle tara and mindy and their snobby horror shit without you to play moderator

He was about to type out a response, an explanation that he needed to watch over his dad, but his attention was pulled away by the sharp sound of a whistle.

Eyes flying up, he was met with Vince Schneider, one of Woodsboro's finest.

"Hi, Sheriff Jr. It's good to see you," he said, smiling like he knew something Tate didn't. He was hot in that disgusting, greasy mechanic, line cook who didn't bathe kind of way. Tate wasn't above admitting that he was kind of attracted to him, especially when he smiled at him like that.

Still, he was a sleazeball and not worth Tate's time. "Why are you in my yard?"

Vince smiled even wider, tilting his head. "A man can't take a walk?"

"That doesn't explain why you're in my yard."

Tate's phone lit up in his hand again. Another text from Chad.

From: chad !!

tateeeee :( reply to meeeee

Vince's eyes danced with amusement. Sadly, Tate's stomach swooshed a little at the sight. "A man can't stop his walk to appreciate a pretty boy?"

Tate rolled his eyes, fluttery feelings gone as soon as they came. "Get off my property."

Vince stepped into his personal space, so close their feet were touching. He smelt like used matches and cigarettes and musky cologne. Tate didn't hate it. "You wanna say that again? Put some more bass in your voice?"

Tate scoffed. "I'm not afraid of you."

Vince raised an eyebrow before he smiled again. "And why not?"

Tate raised his right hand. "Because I'm literally holding a gun."

They were standing close enough for Tate to watch him swallow harshly. Though he tried not to show it, fear was evident on his face, for just a moment.

"You're bolder than you look, Sheriff Jr. I like it," he said.

Tate scoffed. "I don't care what you like. Get out of my yard."

Vince laughed, smiling again. "You know, for some reason I don't think that's true.."

From inside the trailer, Tate's dad shouted, "Tate, do you want sausage or pepperoni?"

Vince's smile stayed plastered on his face as he stepped back, brushing his hand on Tate's arm. "I'll see you around, Sheriff Jr."

Tate was a bit ashamed by the blush in his cheeks as he watched him go.

"Tate?" his dad called, and he jumped.

"Sorry, I was zoning out! Sausage!" he said, as he looked back to his phone.

He paused, trying to figure out what to say to Chad. It didn't feel right to mention his interaction with Vince. It felt like.. a betrayal even though nothing had happened, and nothing would happen.

Maybe he could just keep this to himself.

To: chad !!

sorry! shooting practice today, u know how my dad is

#tate riley weathers #tate asks #vincetate #my writing #leaf tag 🌿

[terrorpenned]

DOSSIER : EDITH CUSHING

FULL NAME: Edith Victoria Wyndham Cushing AGE: 24 BIRTH DATE: October 9th, 1877 ETHNICITY: white, American GENDER: cis female ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic, preference for men SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual, preference for men (& somewhere on the demisexual spectrum)   RELIGION: Agnostic, and a strong proponent of spiritualism   SPOKEN LANGUAGE: English and some French  CURRENT LIVING CONDITIONS: Buffalo, NY with her father pre-marriage; Crimson Peak afterwards  OCCUPATION: aspiring writer  

RELATIONSHIPS

PARENTS: Carter Elias Cushing and Eleanor Wyndham-Cushing  SIBLINGS: none; Eleanor had three miscarriages prior to Edith SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Sir Thomas Sharpe, brt. CHILDREN: none.

PHYSICAL TRAITS

EYE COLOUR: brown HAIR COLOUR: blonde HEIGHT: 5'4″  BODY BUILD: slender, a little sickly TATTOOS + PIERCINGS: none NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: her spectacles (worn less frequently in social gatherings, more frequently at home & when at study); her hair, which is long and forms into elegant waves when let down; her clothing, which is typically tailored into the height of fashion –– despite her espoused dislike of female vanity  

PERSONALITY

INTELLIGENCE: gifted with grammar and language, and enjoys reading and writing tremendously, especially short stories and gothic horror. she is by far the best with her native English, but undertook learning French in order to read some of her favorite authors in their original tongue. extremely poor with math and geometry. social intelligence is very undeveloped compared to her academics, emotional intelligence is little better.   

likes & dislikes drawn directly from del Torro's biography:

LIKES: being alone, inkwells and pens, paper, books, cinnamon, shortbread cookies, butter, the smell of a puppy's breath, chestnuts, silk, purses, boots, traveling by train, reading writing, her father's hands, his voice, steamboats, hot baths, apples, mulled wine, staying up late, talcum on her skin, dried fruit, sausages in rolls (hot dogs), chewing her fingernails, combing her hair, big cities, New York, mustard, the writing of Henry James, Edith Warthon, Guy de Maupassant, Dickens, Stevenson, Chekhov, the music of Debussy, the art of Felicien Rops, Phiz, Carlos Schwabe, William Holman Hunt, Turner, Caspar David Friedrich, the writings of Byron, Shelley and the ideals of the suffragists (but hates politics), breakfast in bed, fresh cream, toast, eggs (sunny side up), man's colongne, pomme frites, the small of tar, the sound of the sea and the quiet of the deep, salty food, hand creams, frailty, onion, potatoes with butter or cream, a good steak, melancholia, a lit fireplace, cool, tight fresh linen bedclothes, feather pillows DISLIKES: Being alone, long fingernails, dirty fingernails, the writing of Thackeray, the music of Wagner, motor cars, cruelty, rainy days, mayonnaise, math, rashes, strep throat, her legs going to sleep (happens often), waking up late, Sundays, making up her bed, church, hymns, girls her age, tight corsets, stuffed animals, saints, false teeth, false smiles, mud, whisky, the sound of a flute, yelling, loud noises, pepper, onion, going to the beauty parlor, hairy people, green teeth, bad breath, clove and christmas cake, christmas in general, gifts DISPOSITION: graceful, poised, refined, and quiet (vocally), but a bit socially awkward, melancholy, and withdrawn. a bit like jane eyre with a taste for luxury and finery, the raised daughter of American bootstrap wealth and an English socialite.  

#edith cushing. #dossier.

[klubhead76]

Copied from a friend... Enjoy

If you've ever lived in Jersey...you'll appreciate this!!! If you live somewhere else, you might find it interesting:

New Jersey is a peninsula.

Highlands, New Jersey has the highest elevation along the entire eastern seaboard, from Maine to Florida.

New Jersey is the only state where all of its counties are classified as metropolitan areas.

New Jersey has more racehorses than Kentucky.

New Jersey has more Cubans in Union City (1 sq mi.) than Havana, Cuba.

New Jersey has the densest system of highways and railroads in the US.

New Jersey has the highest cost of living.

New Jersey has the highest cost of auto insurance.

New Jersey has the highest property taxes in the nation.

New Jersey has the most diners in the world and is sometimes referred to as the "Diner Capital of the World."

New Jersey is home to the original Mystery Pork Parts Club (no, not Spam): Taylor Ham or Pork Roll.

New Jersey is home to the less mysterious, but the best Italian hot dogs and Italian sausage w/peppers and onions.

North Jersey has the most shopping malls in one area in the world, with seven major shopping malls in a 25 square-mile radius.

New Jersey is home to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

The Passaic River was the site of the first submarine ride, by inventor John P. Holland.

New Jersey has 50+ resort cities & towns; some of the nation's most famous: Asbury Park, Wildwood, Atlantic City, Seaside Heights, Long Branch, Cape May.

New Jersey has the most stringent testing along our coastline for water quality control than any other seaboard state in the entire country.

New Jersey is a leading technology & industrial state and is the largest chemical producing state in the nation, when you include pharmaceuticals.

Jersey tomatoes are known the world over as being the best you can buy.

New Jersey is the world leader in blueberry and cranberry production (and here you thought Massachusetts?)

Here's to New Jersey - the toast of the country! In 1642, the first brewery in America opened in Hoboken.

New Jersey rocks! The famous Les Paul invented the first solid body electric guitar in Mahwah, in 1940.

New Jersey is a major seaport state with the largest seaport in the US, located in Elizabeth. Nearly 80 percent of what our nation imports comes through Elizabeth Seaport first.

New Jersey is home to one of the nation's busiest airports (in Newark), Liberty International.

George Washington slept here. Several important Revolutionary War battles were fought on New Jersey soil, led by General George Washington.

The light bulb, phonograph (record player), and motion picture projector, were invented by Thomas Edison in his Menlo Park, NJ, laboratory.

We also boast the first town ever lit by incandescent bulbs.

The first seaplane was built in Keyport, NJ.

The first airmail was started from Keyport, NJ, to Chicago.

The first phonograph records were made in Camden, NJ.

The game Monopoly, played all over the world, named the streets on its playing board after the actual streets in Atlantic City.

And, Atlantic City has the longest boardwalk in the world,

Not to mention salt water taffy,

New Jersey has the largest petroleum containment area outside of the Middle East countries.

The first Indian reservation was in New Jersey, in the Watchung Mountains.

New Jersey has the tallest water tower in the world. (Union, NJ)

New Jersey had the first medical center, in Jersey City.

The Pulaski Skyway, from Jersey City to Newark, was the first skyway highway.

NJ built the first tunnel under a river, the Hudson (Holland Tunnel).

The first baseball game was played in Hoboken, NJ, which is also the birthplace of Frank Sinatra.

The first intercollegiate football game was played in New Brunswick in 1889 (Rutgers College played Princeton).

The first drive-in movie theater was opened in Camden, NJ, (but they're all gone now!).

New Jersey is home to both of "NEW YORK's" pro football teams!

The first radio station and broadcast was in Paterson, NJ.

The first FM radio broadcast was made from Alpine, NJ, by Maj. Thomas Armstrong.

All New Jersey natives: Sal Martorano, Jack Nicholson, Bruce Springsteen, Bon Jovi, Jason Alexander, Queen Latifah, Susan Sarandon, Connie Francis, Shaq, Judy Blume, Aaron Burr, Joan Robertson, Ken Kross, Dionne Warwick, Sarah Vaughn, Budd Abbott, Lou Costello, Alan Ginsberg, Michelle Kelly. Norman Mailer, Marilynn McCoo, Flip Wilson, Alexander Hamilton, Whitney Houston, Eddie Money, Linda McElroy, Eileen Donnelly, Grover Cleveland, Woodrow Wilson, Walt Whitman, Jerry Lewis, Tom Cruise, Joyce Kilmer, Len Twist, Bruce Willis, Caesar Romero, Lauryn Hill, Ice-T, Nick Adams, Nathan Lane, Sandra Dee, Danny DeVito, Richard Conti, Joe Pesci, Joe Piscopo, Robert Blake, John Forsythe, Meryl Streep, Loretta Swit, Norman Lloyd, Paul Simon, Jerry Herman, Gorden McCrae, Kevin Spacey, John Travolta, Phyllis Newman, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Eva Marie Saint, Elisabeth Shue, Zebulon Pike, James Fennimore Cooper

[gallusrostromegalus]

So Herschel Learned A New Trick

I moved into my current neighborhood in the middle of the 2020 plauge summer, and consequently I know fuck all about my neighbors and they know fuck all about me, except I might have changed that last night.

Herschel is coming up on his first birthday, and like most baby corgi, he is a hyperactive little shitgibbon that thinks everyone in the world exists to pay attention to him, and he's not totally wrong. So every so often he will invent a new trick for funsies, and his lastest one is the "D'aww": He'll pick up one of his toys, carry it over to wherever Husbeast or I are sitting, wait until we look at him, then sit with his back to us and dramatically flip his head back to show off his toy and his beast "Ain't I A Cutie?" face. It is. Dangerously adorable.

Now, he's very good at judging user engagement and will hone his tricks for maximum attention and treats, which means he's got one toy in particular that's his favorite to do this with. My neighbor had given us a box of her former dog's toys when we got him, and one of those toys is a totally plain hard black rubber sausage-shaped tube that you can stuff treats into and entertain a puppy for up to 20 minutes sometimes, but...

Yeah, it looks like a Dildo.

So you can imagine the first time he did the D'aww and suprised me with the Donger Dog Toy, I fucking howled. And now Herschel thinks this is THE toy to do this trick with for maximum attention.

Now, I've also been trying to teach him to carry a toy in his mouth when we go on walks because it keeps him from eating garbage, so last night when he picked up The Treat Tube when it was time for his late-night walk, I told him what a good boy he was and let him take it out with him. Would I have preferred one of the stuffed toys? Yeah, but it was 9PM on a Thursday who was gonna be out to see this?

Well, apparently it's the hot new thing to do an Early Trick-Or-Treat with a smaller group of children to only a select few houses, and it's honestly not a bad idea- less risk of covid exposure, since all the houses are in on it you can make sure the treats are all allergy-safe without singling out a kid, and you don't have to do it Halloween Night which is a school night this year.

None of this helped me when I turned a corner to find a gaggle of children and PTA Parents, and the World's Most Outgoing Dog sprinted for them, sat down with his back to them and dramatically revealed his toy- a 10-inch black rubber tube- on a dimly lit street.

The children naturally only saw A Puppy and fawned attention but I was hit with three PTA Moms telepathically beaming the message IS THAT A DILDO?? at me with some Very Intense Eye Contact.

"I Swear To God That's A Dog Toy." I blurt out.

Two of the Mom's break Eye Contact to lecture thier children about "ASK if you can pet the dog!!" But one just starts laughing her ass off about this. She's about 4'10, there's an open wine bottle in her jack-o-lantern bucket, and she and both her sons are Batmen. She's a remarkably convincing Joker.

"I'm so sorry, he loves people, that's his favorite chew toy." I explain as Herschel rolls over, esctatic for belly rubs, hurgling little goblin noises around The Tube.

"He's adorable. I just hope he doesn't sleep in bed with you!" She says, before leaning over conspiratorily. "-He might be a real danger to your husband!"

So now I have a new neighborhood bestie and my dog is determined to show everyone his Moderately Alarming Toy Suprise Trick, which is gonna be a real hit at the Vet's Office next week.

---

(if this made you laugh, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Patreon so I can buy Herschel even more morally suspect Dog toys)

#Family Lore #Herschel The Hanukkah Goblin #Charlie wasn't on this walk #because he gets heated about moving lawn decorations and killed the fuck out of an inflatible frosty the snowman last year #so he goes out during daytime

[hellavile]

carnal. toji.

# cw: fem!reader, pregnancy kink, thigh riding, weight gain, quickie, nipple play, size kink, toji is feral so breeding kink, thick reader bc she is, black coded.

fuck, there's no fucking way. it's only been five months into your pregnancy, there's no way you should be this fucking thick. it's after midnight now, one of the many repercussions of being pregnant was having a hard time falling asleep early. toji fed you well, or he should say the two of you, craving vodka penne pasta with shrimp and italian sausage . . . without the vodka, unfortunately. currently, you're in the bathroom getting ready for bed, playing your music as you sing to yourself, applying lotion to your heavy breasts as you stare at yourself in the mirror. toji is witnessing this all, laying in bed originally watching tv while waiting for you to finish, but caught glimpse of you and immediately lost interest.

  he's been trying to hide his erection ever since you walked out of the living room leaving the dishes to him. ever since he took paternity leave, he's been noticing how careless you've become with clothing, slim to none at this point. oversized shirt and shorts turned to shorts and tank tops with no bra, and finally thin slip-on nightgowns that were way too tight, hugging your curves. he doesn't know if you're teasing him or you were genuinely uncomfortable in clothing now. he never asked. seeing you so plumped up now, face fat, hips wider, tits flourishing. he wants them in his mouth so badly his jaw aches. when's the last time he's touched you? maybe two weeks ago? he can't even remember that. it was long ago.

  he swears he doesn't want to disrupt your peace, humming to your favorite song and smiling endearingly at your stomach . . . but he couldn't take it any longer. the man was pulsating below, precum leaking from the tip and he'll be damned if he hid in a room and jerked off like some teenager when you were here, already naked, warm, and lathered in body cream he could smell from the bedroom. this carnal desire to have you was fucking him up.

  he approaches you with just a robe on, enigmatic figure entering the dimly lit room, the only light gleaming from the candles. you don't see him, more like hear him and his heavy footsteps, bopping your head to the tune. you feel when his long fingers tangle through your scalp, clasping your hair in his hold. he doesn't mean to be feverish about it, pulling your head back causing a gasp to fall from your parted lips, connecting eyes inside the mirror. they're iniquitous, and that glare you familiarized yourself with is the reason why you're pregnant now.

  it's best you stay silent until he spoke first. his sable hair falls over his eyes just a bit, lips pressed in a firm line before you see him stare directly at your chest within the mirror, a prominent moan coming out from the back of his throat, raspy and needy.

  "when did they get that fucking swollen?"

  the air from his heaving hits the side of your neck, face heating up when you feel his dick press against your back, hard as a rock, visibly twitching.

  "for a few days, i think they're finally filling with milk," you say innocently.

  "god, don't say that," toji hisses, taking both of his rough palms and gliding them around your waist, trailing them up to grab at your tits, heavier than before. toji makes a pained noise, swiftly turning you around and pressing you up against the sink, your eyes wide with curiosity the moment he bends his head to suck at your collarbone, kissing and leaving any sort of mark. your puffy lips widen, clutching the nape of his neck as he attacks your chest, his thigh right between your legs with his cock resting on your stomach.

  one jerk of your hips he has his hands over to pull you closer and your clit is brushing against his thigh, sinking your teeth into your lip as he latches his hot mouth around your nipples, giving you small kitten licks before sucking and rolling his tongue around, all the while observing as you writhe before him.

  "toji," you whine, gyrating your hips to ride his thigh, barely needing it with how much pleasure you were enduring just from his mouth on your chest. "they're too sensitive."

  still, he doesn't say anything. upholding his brutal attack on your swollen tits. the way he licks them, teasingly slow with a hint of roughness has you clutching his hair now, moaning and tossing your head back. he's rolling his tongue, sucking them in his mouth, and rocking you forward to grind on his thigh.

  "fuck, wait—ah," this feeling is so dissimilar, the heat rushing to your skull and your clit throbbing with every lick he gave. toji notices you're holding your breath, eyes filling with tears before you find yourself cumming, arousal coating your inner thighs and his knee. he groans as if thankful, never stopping as you twitch and cry out, using both hands to shove him closer. this is the first time you've ever came like this, your head spinning, admirable yet disoriented.

  toji lets you go with a lewd pop, saliva adorning your chest. he stands to his full height with lust in his eyes, finding that extremely fucking hot he nearly came right then and there. he licks his lips, grabbing your chin to tilt it upward before sucking on your lips, sticking his tongue in, and kissing you passionately, wet lips smacking.

  "be a good girl and let daddy fill you up," he pants, too hazy to respond to him. you're still in shock that that happened, and that fast. "wanna cum so deep inside your pretty pussy. that's my fuckin' baby in there, right here. you're lucky, i'd give you another right now if i could."

  toji continues to kiss you, words becoming gibberish at this point, slurring his words and sloppily mouthing your entire body, mostly your neck since he knows that's your weak spot. he's so lost in having every part of you in his mouth that you're forced to grab his slim waist and push him away, seeing how puffy and red his lips were now.

  "my feet hurt," you pout and whine.

  "sorry," he forgets, gathering his sanity for only a few seconds to lift you bridal style and carry you to the bedroom safely. by now his robe is off, and you pull off your own, skin feeling sticky and hot, definitely needing another shower after this. biting at your nails, you follow toji as he gathers two big pillows and sets them in front of you, pulling you to sit on your knees, the pillows a barrication for your belly. you beam sweetly at the gesture.

  "comfortable?" he asks with concern, stroking your cheek. you nod. "good. i can't hold off."

  toji stands behind you, facing ahead and wrapping his forearm around your throat, putting you in a gentle chokehold, not too hard to make you nauseous. both of you are at the edge of the bed, comfortably leaning forward into the pillows while toji's free arm balances himself by flattening his hand on the mattress. it's not long after until he's sheathing his cock deep into you, his eyes scrolling to his skull when you claw at his arm and choke out his name, pressing your ass back to fully bring him in.

  "shit," he gasps, stilling his hips and grinding into you, your slickness encircling the area of the room. "gonna fuck you now, okay?"

  "hurry," you croak, feeling another orgasm nearing, the pillows in front of you stimulating your soppy clit even more. you bite into his arm, screaming as he rotates his hips and fucks you hard, grunting by your ear and grumbling all sorts of expletives.

  "fuckk, fuck me, baby," he's dragging out his moans, grounding his cock feverishly, dropping forward with you and panting by your ear, your face pressed into the bed as you scream and cum harder than you've had in a while, drenched cunt gushing around his cock, eventually squirting, reaching behind you to tug at his hair and ride out your orgasm, twitching and babbling words he could barely hear.

  if it were any other time, he'd be ashamed for reaching his high so quickly, but being as though he's had blue balls for hours, hell, even days . . . he didn't give a shit now for cumming as hard as he did, whimpering like a bitch as you wet the bed and soaked his thighs, still humping against you like a wolf in heat. satisfying your needs and his own by filling you with his cum as he promised, cock jumping into you the more you tensed, toji soothing your shaky body with gentle kisses and belly rubs.

  "i'm way too sensitive now," the both of you laugh as you lift your head with teary eyes, catching your breath and humming to ease your heart, toji not wanting to pull out, feeling too comfortable, ready to fall asleep just like this but he knows he needed to give you water asap.

  "don't move," he's wrong, your grip on his arm keeping him still.

  "you'll vomit if you don't drink something. you know how you get."

  "i'm okay, i promise," smiling weakly, you pull him along with you as you turn on your side, fully facing each other, truly spent. "stay inside me."

  toji groans, pecking your lips. "don't have to tell me twice."

#toji x y/n #toji smut #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x black reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen smut #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x black reader #☆. hellavile.

[peakyblinders1919]

Recollection

Part 2 to collection

“What’s all this?” Voice monotone, he only asked out of courtesy since he knew the answer.

She came bearing gifts; it was always a good sign when she came bearing gifts. She must have been up a few whole hours before the sun to have accomplished what she did. A breakfast fit for a king, with eggs three different ways, bacon, sausage, porridge and freshly picked fruits from the garden tossed into a salad, freshly squeezed orange juice, plates of toast and jam, and his flowers from the night before in a vase as the centerpiece of the spread, always a nice touch. He took a seat and eyed the food, and her, somewhat hungrily.

“Can’t I just spoil my husband?”

“Well, as of last night I didn’t think I was such a thing to you.”

He watched her closely as she giggled. “Oh please, you know I wasn’t serious.”

He quirked an eyebrow her way as she wiped her hands on her apron, sitting across from him and blowing on the piping hot cup of tea in her hand for herself. “Oh come on, eat up. You’ll need your fuel today.”

An unsettling yet comfortable silence lingered between them as he studied her closely, though there was the faint sound of birds chirping in the trees in the orchard, making the scene a fairytale moment.

It was such a contrast to the night before, he wondered what had come over her. Last night she was a true vision throwing her jewels on the floor, and this morning she was the epitome housewife. She continued watching him, hoping he’d make a plate and truly accept her apology.

He poured himself a cup of tea and lit a cigarette instead.

“That was some stunt you pulled last night,” the words curled off his tongue, out of his rosy pink lips like the addictive smoke from his cigarette. “And I could almost say the same Mr. Shelby…”

The way the words rolled off her tongue, the formal title only used in a pleading manner. Her eyes were begging too, begging him for more. “Here.” A plate was put in front of him filled with his absolute favorites from the table, the gesture her final plea.

“Have you changed your mind since last night?” Eyeing the food, then her.

“What’s on the agenda for today? Will you be working in London or Birmingham?” It was blatantly obvious to him why she changed the question; she didn’t have an answer yet. Tension hung in the air like smoke, an invisible, unsaid pull between them, their words volleying their love, lust, and loathing for each other in perfect syncticy.

“Birmingham. Settling the Garrison tab and the labor strikes at the factories.” He kept his sentence short, why did she care about details finer than that? He held the power with his icy stare, silence continuing to linger, fighting against the incessant noise of time passing. He would sit there and continue waiting, waiting, however long it took to wear her down with those blue eyes of his. He knew what was coming, his mind just starting to wander when the scuffle of their undeniable love filled the hallway. The glue of their family saying good-bye as they’re carted off to school, Tommy normally would follow them out but he knew today was going to be different.

“You know, it’s been awhile since we’ve had the house to ourselves” she began, a tingling sensation sent down her back as she rolled her plump lips in between her teeth.

With a content sigh it was all confirmed, the breakfast and flowers and unanswered question.

“I really better get going-” he teased, getting ready to move towards the door ever so slightly, waiting for her to crack. He could read it on her face, in her body language, desire pouring out of her like red smoke.

“You don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that, I said I have places to be”, *it doesn’t look good when someone of my status is late to work* he thought, though the more he thought the more he realized he could give two shits what his employees thought about him. She tried to hide the smile on her face, though it’s undeniable to ignore the feeling rising in her core. She knew what the others would say when she took him back like this, her cheeks flushed red at just the thought of the criticism she’d receive for seducing her cheating husband…

“What’s wrong then?”

“Nothing…” Pride swelled in his chest as victory settled over him. “And what did you have in mind?” He purred. Maybe this was the reason why he sought out others, why he brought her jewelry and flowers and Champagne as a “forgive me” gift, even on those occasions when he didn’t do anything to warrant them. Keeping her in the dark was dangerous for both of them of course, but it was a risk he was willing to take over and over again.

“Come on,” the words accompanied by his sly smile as he went to usher her upstairs, it was obvious who was in charge here. He had no choice but to push her skirt up her waist. Her hands worked quickly at his belt.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Finally apologizing…”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who should be doing the apologizing.” Now she was angry that he was taking this away from her too, but that didn’t measure up to the list of reasons why he was beyond infatuated with her and her toxic antics.

“It’s both of us who are sorry, hm? Is that right?”

“I’m giving you your heart back. Wrapped in a pretty bow.” Lips curled around her ear, traveling down her neck as he pieced back what he had broken bit by bit, inch by inch as he kissed between her breasts down to the spot above it where her heart lay below, beating unbelievably fast. Neither would admit how much they both needed this. Articles of expensive clothing scattered across the floor. A weight lifted off him to finally have her back in his arms rather than watching her leave. “I love you. I never meant to break your heart that way, you know I would never do that to you. I never stopped loving you, no matter what you believe, and I’m going to proper show you that. This is it. I promise. There’s no one else who does to me what you do. I care about you more than you could ever know.” Her pleasure and acceptance evidence in her moans spurred on by his words and his tongue.

In a tangle of limbs, he was inside her. Intimately, he found a way to her core that made her eyes gleam.

“You mean it? Really?” Her voice was already shallow, swallowed by her lack of air as he thrust into her at a rhythm that could only be described as love-making.

“I do.” His voice steady now, he swallowed a moan while looking her dead in the eye, fully. “I mean every damn word. I’ve got all my love to give to you. I love you. Don’t leave."

Truly want your thoughts on this and send in your ideas

#peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby #michael gray imagines #michael gray fanfic #michael gray fanfiction #michael gray headcanon #micheal gray

[finelinevogue]

Oh gods I just have one of the Cuttest blurbs request (I think so):

H and his lovie are at a meadow having a picnic and later on she’s on his lap and he’s starts reading her a romantic type of book. Just pure fluff :))

i’m going to cry this concept has my heart :((

Finally, the rain had stopped

Every day for the past week the sky had weeped in bucket fulls, meaning that you’d been stuck inside with Harry all of that time. Now you two normally aren’t phased by the rain but this weather was combined with hailstorms and Harry didn’t feel comfortable letting you out in it.

The sun was smiling today. So was Harry.

“What’s got you so happy?” You asked, as you continued to wash the dishes in the sink with the hot and soapy water. You’d both just had a lovely homemade smoothie bowl to start your lush morning.

“Just you,” Harry smirked and moved closer to you to lean against the counter, “in fact, i’m going to take you out on a date today.”

“Oh you are, are you?” You smirked, finishing the last of the dishes and placing them off to the side.

“Yes so go and get your cute bum ready.” He slapped your behind as you left the room, causing you to flip him the bird in humour.

••••

The meadow was peaceful.

Life couldn’t get any prettier than this. Whilst Harry would argue that you were prettier, he couldn’t doubt that his surroundings were ethereal.

The field was covered in wild flowers. Sky blues, lavender purples, rosy pinks and sherbet lemons painted the dainty flowers that danced with the wind. As far as you could see there were fields of green, colour and trees. It was the most beautiful nowhere.

There was nothing but you and your lover.

The white picnic blanket had been laid and you took your seat upon it in one corner, as Harry sat in the opposite. Behind him you could see the outline of distant mountains, with snow cuffing their peaks, but all you could focus on was the man sat in front of you.

He delicately opened the picnic basket and passed you a paper plate, along with plastic cutlery.

“How classy.” You teased, sitting back against your calves as Harry lay on his side with his elbow holding him up.

“Only the best for my girl,” he laughed and pulled out the rest of the belongings, “now would m’love like a ham and pickle sandwich or a peanut butter and jam sandwich?”

He knew he didn’t really have to ask, already placing your sandwich of choice, PB & J obviously, on your plate, but being the gentleman he was being for the day he had to ask.

“That’s a silly question.”

The selection of other foods welcomed you before long your plate was stacked high with goodies; sausage rolls, pork pies, vegetables, hummus and fruit. You didn’t wait for Harry to fill his plate up before scoffing your food down, letting out a delightful moan as you did so.

“That good hmm?” Harry laughed at your pleasurable facial expressions.

“That’s a mean sandwich,” you noticed Harry was watching you with a humorous expression, “what?”

“C’mere.” He waved his hand for you to come closer. You leant forwards on your hands and knees, reaching close to his face. His hand gently came up to your lips and stroked away the jam that had been stamped onto your face. He didn’t let you return to your place before you gave him a ridiculous number of kisses.

••••

It was later, now.

The sun was descending in warm colours and it lit up your skin in gold.

You were so full from your picnic and now your head was laid upon Harrys stomach, your body at a right angle to his. One of his hands was being used to run patterns through your hair, whilst the other held a copy of a book he was reading. You had no clue what it was about. You didn’t care. Listening to his voice as you lay in a beautiful field was just perfect.

It wasn’t until this particular moment that you were really listening, feeling Harry’s hand still as he spoke.

“There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow-creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.”

You knew he was looking at you.

Slowly, you turned and you were proved right. Harry’s eyes were full of love and you liked to think yours reflected the same way.

Neither of you had to speak to know the three little words that you could say.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #request blurb #ask finelinevogue #harry styles picnic #harry styles reading #harrystyles fluff #harry x reader #sunflowervolume66

[rextasywrites]

Aftershow - Leon Kennedy x f!reader

with the help of some tricks and your best friend distracting the security guard, you manage to sneak into the after show of the world premiere of “Resident Evil - Infinite Darkness”. It tells the story of federal Agent Leon S. Kennedy, who, after retiring from his career as a federal agent, decided to tackle acting. Ever since you first saw him in “Resident Evil 2”, you were in love with him and couldn’t wait to meet him. So...what would happen at this afterparty?

hey lads i’m back! i hope you enjoy this piece i have been writing the past few days! hope you are doing well xoxo

Warnings: alcohol, smut, Leon being an ass to others sometimes

Your dress clung to your body, making you feel like some overstuffed sausage. It was physically and mentally out of your comfort zone, but your best friend insisted you looked like a million bucks in it, so you begrudgingly purchased it a week before. “But you look fantastic,” your best friend reassured  you when you stood before your mirror earlier that night, awkwardly, tugging at the fabric by your hipsMaybe she was right, but currently she was busy with the security guard to give you the chance to meet your idol and celebrity crush, Leon S. Kennedy. You had heard he’d attend the premiere, and posts on social media confirmed the rumours.Not that you’d ever admit to subscribing to notifications from him, though.

The place was filled with Hollywood executives, actors, and actresses from all over the planet, yet you hadn’t spotted your favourite so far. Maybe he was outside smoking? Busy spending time with fans and writing autographs? Who knew… So you made your way past some gossiping actress towards the bar. A simple Sex on the Beach would calm your nerves. You began to zone out as you sipped on the cocktail- that is, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“And I thought I had met everyone tonight.”

That voice. That fucking voice. You’d recognize it out of a million, and there he was.

On the barstool next to you sat Leon S. Kennedy, and he was touching you at this very moment.

Before you would answer, you chuckled and took a sip from the cocktail, buying your nerves some more time before you’d answer. “Guess not.”, you said and placed the glass on the bar in front of you. “I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

“I’m Leon, but I’m sure you already knew that, nice to meet you too. (Y/N), what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Say, how is it possible that I haven’t spotted you before?”

Uh oh. Quick, think of something.

“Sorry, bad traffic,” you replied, directly quoting a line from his costar in Resident Evil 4. “But I’m here now, and just in time to celebrate you and your new show!”, you smiled and raised your glass, Leon clicking it together with his own beer glass. “Cheers.” You two took big sips from your beverages, Leon’s hand now gravitating towards your knee.

“Say, would you like to join me on the terrace? It’s getting so hot in here.”, Leon said and pointed towards an open door on the other side of the room. The mere thought of being able to spend more time with him made you agree with his idea, and a minute later you two were sitting on the terrace in a porch swing. Leon had bought you another drink. He was such a gentleman, just like you’d always imagined him.. From time to time, people came to congratulate Leon on the success of his new show, wanting to invite him for a drink or more rounds. Yet every time he declined it, saying he already had enough for the evening.

*

“You weren’t invited, were you?”, Leon asked after some conversation between you two. You had told him a bit about your life, your work, your pets. In return, Leon shared stories of the making of Infinite Darkness, funny bloopers and behind-the-scenes stories you otherwise would never hear. The party had died out by now, it being late and the night becoming colder. Telling him a lie wasn’t an option, so you sighed and nodded. “Thought so. You carry yourself differently.”, Leon said while he lit himself a cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

“What do you mean?”, confusion was written across your face. Carrying yourself differently?

“Hollywood wankers carry themselves with a confidence that could kill a mortal like us. They think they are invincible, but oh boy they are wrong. You don’t carry that energy about you. You don’t look the type.. How did you get in?”

“My best friend is buddies with the security guard and he owed her a favour.”

“You little minx.”, Leon laughed, taking another drag as his eyes rested on you, taking in your body in this dress you hated, yet in his eyes you were the most beautiful woman in the sea of botox and silicone tits. “If you promise not to spill the whole night on social media, I can show you a whole new world.”, and by the look in his eyes, you both knew the feeling was mutual

*

The penthouse Leon was renting for his stay in your city was more than just breathtaking. Standing by the front window, you could see the whole city, way beyond the city limits. In the bathroom was, next to a big bathtub, a jacuzzi, and an iced down champagne bucket right next to it. “In Hollywood, money has no meaning. You ever seen Wolf of Wall Street? They weren’t fuckin’ lying when they called money ‘fun coupons’”, he laughed when you first entered the penthouse and your eyes had nearly rolled out. The bedroom alone was bigger than your whole flat, the champagne in that goddamn bucket probably worth more than your rent

“If your eyes get any bigger they’ll fall out of your head!”, Leon laughed as he sat down on the huge sofa, the fireplace warming up the room to a comfortable degree. Yet the dress felt too tight, just ready to be taken off...or was that the alcohol speaking? Leon for the cigar box lying atop the coffee table. He offered you one, but you declined - you didn’t smoke, but the mere view of Leon with a big cigar between his lips, legs spread and dress shirt slightly unbuttoned...it went straight to your core, a view millions of women would kill for, presented in front of you. “Like what you see, little minx?”

“Would it be bad if I didn’t.”, you replied, trying to hide your nerves by being cocky. But Leon wasn’t having any of this. He could see through your mask, trying and failing to hide how badly you wanted to straddle his lap and kiss him senseless, seeing stars and whole new universes. Comes with being an ex cop and agent. No secrets could make it past his eyes.

“Come here”, were Leon’s simple words, yet they had an effect on you and your body, something you'd normally be ashamed to admit. You made your way over to Leon on the sofa and instead of sitting next to him, he patted on his lap. “I want you to be comfortable, and I bet you are the most comfortable on my lap. C’mon, it’s the best seat in the house.”, he smirked and...you couldn’t deny it. His thighs were comfortably big, years of hard training paying off in the form of muscle and rough skin under his suit pants.

You weren’t sure why your head felt like it was spinning - was it the alcohol or the intoxicating smell from Leon? A mixture of his unique scent: whiskey and his cologne, all in a cloud around your nose. You wished you would be able to smell him for the rest of your life. All you knew was that your body screamed for Leon, and his body screamed right back. “Here.”, Leon offered you the glass of scotch he had just poured for himself. “There are three types of liquor. Terrible, not so terrible, or do you want to impress people with your money?”, and with those words, he pressed his lips against yours.

*

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“And yet, here we are.”

*

Leon had picked you up after another glass or three of scotch, the way to his bedroom clear. You weren’t sure if it was the warmth from the scotch swelling in your chest or the way his muscular arms wrapped around you, but something in you was one wrong- or right- move away from melting away completely. Your legs were wrapped around his hips as well as possible. The slit on your dress helped you, but suddenly Leon stopped in his tracks. “Are you okay?”, you asked, placing a hand on his cheek, but he looked over the bedroom you two just entered… Suddenly he placed you back down on the floor, kicking the door shut and pushing you against it.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed.”, he smirked , his soft hands moving down your sides, leaving goosebumps wherever they touched you. Your dress felt too tight, the room too hot - you needed to get out of it quickly! Leon watched your blush grow, this asshole smirk still on his lips. “I love how real you are.”, he muttered as he leaned in, brushing his lips over your pulse point, just enough to draw a soft gasp from your lips.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, puzzled. Leon just chuckled, “Haven’t you noticed? It’s all Photoshopped. All the women at the premiere had the same fucking ass. Same crooked lips from the same quack doctor. The same busted Botox faces, everywhere you go. Yet they think they’re hot shit.”, he whispered, hot air against your even hotter skin. “But you...look at you.”

And you did. You looked down on yourself and saw nothing but imperfections. You looked back to Leon with a frown but he just laughed, “Hollywood is suffocating as fuck, but you’re like a breath of fresh air.. Look at you! You even have stretch marks! I haven’t seen real stretch marks since I put my first step into a studio!”, Leon took a deep breath, his voice shaking as he said his next sentence, “And I want you so fucking badly.”

*

Only minutes later, Leon had marked you up, hickeys and little bites of pleasure and need covering your upper body, whatever part he could reach. The dress was long gone and you laid on the bed, watching Leon unbuttoning his dress shirt. Underneath the white fabric was a body riddled with scars and old, badly healed wounds. Each and every single one could tell a story you were ready to hear, but right now, all you wanted was Leon and only Leon. And he needed you too.

“Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”, Leon asked as his hands reached behind you, undoing your bra with a simple movement. This man had disarmed bombs before, of course a bra wouldn’t cause him much trouble. “Look at you…”, he repeated once more once your bra was thrown across the room, landing on some random piece of furniture. You blushed under his hungry eyes, him taking in what would be his in mere minutes. “Spread your legs. I wanna taste you.”

*

You had an iron grip on Leon’s hair, bucking your hips to meet his touch. More, more, more! You needed more! While Leon’s tongue teased your entrance, he used his hand to hold you down, keeping you in place like the good girl that you had been. Well, had been until his tongue first licked up your folds, taking in the sweetness of your juices. Leon had consumed many different liquors in his life, but only your sweet juices could rival ambrosia, sending his drunken mind into another plane of existence.

“Leon!”, you moaned out the moment his calloused finger brushed over your clit. It had been begging for attention, but Leon - that dick - kept on lapping up your juices, sucking and nibbling carefully on your folds. The movements of his fingers were in a steady rhythm with the ones of his tongue, making your head spin once more. He knew how to play you like a fiddle, making you putty in his hands.

But before you could cum, Leon pulled away, his face covered in your sweet fluids and he licked over his lips with an obscene sound and a dirty smirk on his lips. “I can’t wait to fuck you ‘til you scream my name.”

*

The condom was put on quickly. Magnum, of course. What else would a guy like him need? The first stroke inside of you made you see stars for the third time in less than an hour, what an impact this man had on you. Leon was still inside of you, not moving until you were adjusted to his size, especially his girth. “You okay?”, he asked, to which you gave him a soft nod. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. It’s just… fuck, you’re big..”

Leon’s ego beamed at your words, and once you gave him the okay to continue, it was very hard for him to hold back in any way. You were too tight, too sweet, making him nearly burst on the spot. Instead, his mind wandered...but you were always part of those thoughts.

The wet noises of sex, lust, and unadulterated passion filled the room, along with soft panting and groans coming from you two, a noise as old as humankind. Your arms were tightly wrapped around Leon’s body, leaving behind tiny marks when you needed to hold onto him, your nails digging into his skin. Leon hissed at the stings but fuck, knowing you were marking him up too made him even harder, harder than he had ever been.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, Leon moaned against your neck and buried his head there for a moment. All you could do was nod in agreement, not trusting your voice anymore. Leon reached down at this, pressing his palm between you two, against your clit. You needed this feeling, you were begging for your release.

*

“Come on, cum for me.”, Leon growled when he felt the first contractions around his cock. The needy undertone of his voice was the last thing you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Leon!”, you moaned and came around him, stilling in your movements. Leon rocked his hips a few more times before his own release overcame him, spilling into the condom as you milked him inside of you. It felt too good to be true, but Leon was real.

Once your high started to fade and the contractions lessened, Leon leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing it from your open lips as you tried to catch your breath again. You smiled up to him, loosening your grip around him. “That was great.”, you smiled and Leon dropped next to you after pulling out.

*

In the early morning hours, you woke up to an empty bed. Leon’s side was cold and you sat up, looking around in confusion. Where was he? He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? Finally, you spotted him on the balcony and you quickly threw on one of the jackets laying around along with your panties.

“Good morning.”, you smiled at Leon, who was taking a drag from his cigarette. He greeted you while blowing the hot smoke out, then held up his arm, offering you a place next to him. You happily agreed, leaning against his warm body in the fresh morning hours.

“I’d love to see you again.”, Leon said after he exhaled another drag, looking down at you. This took you by surprise - why would he? You weren’t special at all, just a mere fan who managed to get into his penthouse suite with a lot of luck and cleavage. He grabbed his phone from the table next to him, offering you the open contact list, “I’d love to take you out on a few dates and such. Spend time with you. What do you think? Wanna give me your number?”

#Leon Kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon s kennedy #Leon Scott Kennedy

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟏𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

Monday, 25 September 2017

It was strange to Y/N that she was enjoying herself as much as she was just then in an educational setting. In school, she had never really liked any of the subjects besides English, and here at uni, she got to sit and listen to professors who were truly experts on English literature ramble on about Othello and specific analysis on act 3 scene 3. She loved every single second of it, and was sure she could sit there for hours on end just listening to her professors. At one point she was sure this would all get tiring and she’d hate University, but in that moment, hearing her professor, Richard, talk about things that truly interested her, was such a breath of fresh air compared to what she had experienced previously.

The door to the lecture hall opened, and since the doors were right by the blackboard where Richard stood talking about Othello and the ‘temptation’ scene, all eyes landed on the blonde girl in pink shorts and a white jumper. She smiled at Richard, mouthing a “sorry” before taking the first free seat she could find, which was conveniently right beside Y/N. The two girls shared a small smile themselves before Y/N went back to focusing on the lecture happening in front of her. Y/N was hunched over her notebook, writing something off from the PowerPoint slide displayed on the wall in front of her. She did not know how much time went by, she was listening too intently to care about that, but suddenly, the blonde beside her rested her back against the seat and leaned a little closer to Y/N.

“This is quite boring, innit?”

Y/N looked to her left, and to her surprise, realised that the girl who had walked in late was Chloe. The same Chloe who she had met when she registered a week and some ago. She must have been too caught up in the lecture to pay proper attention to her surroundings.

Chloe let out a small chuckle, nodding in the direction of the PowerPoint before she continued to whisper. “The lecture. I knew we’d be discussing Shakespeare in Introduction to English Studies, but Othello’s just fucking boring, innit?”

“I…” Y/N looked at the PowerPoint for a few seconds, then back at Chloe. “Sure.”

They were quiet for a few seconds, Chloe just studying Y/N, eyes searching her face. “You like Othello.”

Y/N felt a sudden urge to relate to Chloe. Since they had met earlier and since she hadn’t made tons of friends on her course yet, she wanted Chloe to be her mate. If they got off on the wrong foot today, they might never sit next to each other again.

“It’s not as good as Twelfth Night, not as bad as Julius Caesar.”

Chloe continued to just look at Y/N, but suddenly, a smile came creeping over her lips. “Take it you like Shakespeare.”

“I like analysing his work, yeah.”

“More of a Modernism, and sometimes Postmodernism, girl myself.”

“I’m not big on either of those.”

Chloe let out a small chuckle again. “You won’t be taking Postmodernism next year then?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Chloe only crossed her arms and stared ahead, still smiling. For a second Y/N was afraid she might have said something to make Chloe detest her, but the next, she reminded herself that she had to live her truth regardless of what anyone said about it. “Guess we’ll just have to enjoy each other’s company in the core modules then.”

Y/N felt a few butterflies in her stomach at that and could not help smiling back at Chloe when their eyes met again.

“How come I haven’t seen you at any Freshers parties yet?” Chloe asked.

“Been busy applying to jobs and such,” Y/N explained. “Gotta get one as fast as possible ‘cause I need money to live.”

“Ahh, fair.” Chloe nodded. “One of my course mates, Hayden – think they’re up there somewhere –“ Chloe pointed with her thumb over her shoulder, indicating further up the lecture hall. “Has decided they’re going to start an Uno society.”

“Uno?” Y/N frowned. “As in the card game?”

“Yeah,” Chloe laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be nice and all, but they’re very passionate about it. Have yet to come out with me, Thian, and Annalise. Those are my other course mates, by the way.”

Y/N nodded. Was she just incompetent at making friends or was Chloe just very good at it? How had she made so many friends, made a small group by the sounds of it, and Y/N had barely talked to anyone on her course yet?

“Hayden promised to come out this Friday, though,” Chloe smiled. “You should come, too.”

For some reason, both nerves and excitement rushed through Y/N at that. She smiled back. “I’d love that.”

“Wicked. It’s at my Dinwiddy flat.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Uni accommodation at Helmond is a huge piss take, I tell you. I feel like there’s mould everywhere.”

“That’s just UK houses in general. We’ll all die from it one day.”

“It’s literally disgusting,” Chloe said. “Also, one of my flatmates never does his dishes. It’s minging. And it’s started smelling, too.”

“Oh, my days.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad I just immediately moved in with my best mate instead of going through the whole uni accommodation thing. At least I can be assured that they do their dishes and no food’s left on the kitchen counter for too long.”

“Oh, that sounds lush.”

The people around Y/N and Chloe were all starting to pack their things and get out of their seats. Seeing as the two of them were sat by the edge of the row, they had to get up rather fast and let people through. So, that’s what they did. Y/N put her notebook and pencil case in her rucksack and slung it onto her back before she and Chloe made their way out of the lecture hall and out into the hallway beyond.

“There they are,” Chloe grinned, waving as she saw a small group of three standing by the wall a bit further down. “Come say hi.” Though Chloe wasn’t looking at her, Y/N assumed she was talking to her, so she followed her over to the rest. “Gang, this is Y/N, the one I met while we were both registering.”

“Ah, you’ll be Y/N, then,” a man with protruding cheekbones, a strong jawline, and deep set, brown eyes said. The Viet man’s smile lit up the room they were standing in, and it made Y/N’s overthinking ebb. “I’m Thian, pleasure to meet you. Chloe told us she met you, but never saw you since.”

“Proper rude of the universe to keep us away from each other for so long,” Chloe said.

“I’m Hayden,” a smaller person said with the greenest eyes and long brown hair. They too had a smile like Thian’s, but this one displayed crooked teeth, which made Y/N more at ease with her own bottom teeth that were the same.

“And I’m Annalise,” the last one said, her hair dyed an unnatural dark red colour that Y/N absolutely loved. “I think I saw you in a Critical Reading seminar.”

“Oh, yeah, I think we might be.”

“We’ll have to sit next to each other next time!”

Y/N could detect a slight accent, but she could not tell where Annalise was originally from. She suspected Germany, there were tons of international students here after all, but Y/N did not want to assume.

“Guys, we have to plan the first Uno society meeting,” Hayden said, looking at the time on their phone. “It was so nice to meet you, Y/N, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

She just smiled. “No, totes get that. I need to get back to my flat, anyway.”

“See you around, then,” Chloe smiled, waving as the four of them walked off.

Y/N walked home to Orsman Road. Though she knew there would be less walking if they took the tube, it would also mean that she had to walk on and off boiling hot tube trains and stations, and she was not about to do that. She was sweating enough in the late September sun as it was, she did not need the tube to contribute to her sweat moustache as well. Instead, she plugged her earbuds in and listened to her most recent playlist on Spotify, humming along to her favourite tunes as she walked.

She stopped by Gregg’s by Dalston Kingsland station, buying herself a sausage roll and an iced latte before walking the rest of the stretch home. Hackney bustled around her, with tons of cars, double deckers, and mopeds driving by, as well as all types of people milling to and from work. The early autumn sun was still a little too hot, but it seemed like most Londoners were soaking up the sun while they could. They were walking by in shorts, tee shirts, and summer dresses, while the only reason why Y/N was dressed in her tee shirt and trousers, was so she would not quite literally go up in flames on the way home.

Y/N arrived at Orsman Road not long after her trip to Gregg’s, and walked up to the flat. She locked the door once she was indoors, checking the kitchen and the living room to see if anyone was there. To no one’s surprise, none of her three other student flatmates were home in the middle of the day on a Monday. She walked up the stairs and to her room, letting her door be open so she could air out a bit more. Her windows had been open all day, so her room smelled fresher than normal as she entered. That just reminded her that she had to buy some scented candles or air fresheners to liven up her room.

Putting her rucksack down by her door, Y/N started looking through the two bags that she had yet to pack out from. In one was most of the stuff she’d put on her desk when she finally bought that, and in the other were loads of decorations that she had yet to bring forth. She started pulling out fairylights that she wanted to hang across her room or over her wall, when she heard footsteps. Out of the door directly to the right once you came up the stairs, came a man with short dark hair and a strong build, thin lips and pale skin. He must have heard movements outside his door, because his eyes landed on Y/N almost right away. However, he smiled at her and Y/N immediately knew who this was.

“You’re Y/N, then,” Mason said, walking over to stand in the doorway of her room. “Mason, your third flatmate.”

“Thought I’d never run into you,” Y/N smiled, making his smile grow.

“Yeah, got here like two days ago, and have been all over the place since. Helped some of my mates move into their flats, been at work, and at rugby practice.”

She nodded. “Busy man.”

“Very busy.”

“Lucky I caught you now, then.”

Mason nodded his head. “Would have eventually. Knowing Nath, he’ll probably end up forcing us all to bond as a flat at one point.”

“Sounds horrific.”

“It was. It will be,” Mason laughed, leaning against the doorframe and pushing his hands into his grey joggers.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “It was? He’s done it before?”

“Yeah, our first year. He made everyone in our flat bond, he especially talked about flat yoga sessions and shopping trips when he was drunk or high as a kite.”

She dropped the fairylights and turned her full attention on Mason. “You lived together your first year?”

Mason just looked at Y/N, blinking a few times. “Yeah.”

“All three of you?”

“All three of us. Me, Nathan, Harry, and like five girls.”

Y/N felt like screaming, but lucky for her dignity and Mason’s ears, the front door opened and closed. Nathan’s singing could be heard all the way upstairs. Instead of screaming, Y/N called Nathan’s name, not caring that Mason saw just how annoyed she was now. Poor bloke had no idea what he’d just said. Nathan strolled up the stairs and looked in Y/N’s room’s direction, his face lit up at the sight of Mason and Y/N together.

“What a view!” he grinned. “What’re you two bonding over?”

“Right now we’re bonding over being your friend,” Y/N said.

“Which I’m sure you’re both honoured to be, yes.”

“And I just heard you’ve lived with Mason and Harry for the last year, but have not told me,” Y/N said, ignoring Nathan’s previous comment.

Nathan looked to Mason, and then back at Y/N. “No, Harry moved in later. He lived in another flat first, hated it, and since him and Mason were good mates, he got to move into our place since one of our flatmates dropped out our first week.”

Not caring that she would smudge her makeup, Y/N ran her hands over her face. “How long did he live there, Nate?”

Silence for a second or two. “Start of second semester till we moved out.”

Y/N let go of a heavy sigh. “Nathan, why didn’t you just tell me?-“

“-I know, I know, I know,” Nathan started, walking into Y/N’s room and sitting down on the floor beside her. “I’m a shite friend.”

“You really fucking are,” Y/N said, swatting Nathan’s hand away when he tried to take hers. “Harry was both of our friend when he lived in Notts those months, and I literally had sex with him.”

Mason took a small step back in pure shock, blinking rapidly as if an eyelash fell onto his eye.

“Don’t I have a right to know you’re living with him?” Y/N asked.

“You do. Of course, you do. I just… I thought I told you at one point, and when I got home and I found out I hadn’t told you… I didn’t know how to break the news.”

“How about just telling me?” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “Instead of hiding it from me like that.”

“Technically, I didn’t hide anything ‘cause I thought I-“

“-Nathan, I’ll literally skin you alive-“

“-Fine, I should have told you,” he groaned, taking her hand this time and holding it tight in his. “How can I make it up to you?”

Y/N thought for a moment, but came up with the perfect solution. “By coming with me when I go out with my course mates on Friday?”

Nathan just looked at her, blinking once. “My punishment is to… go out with you and your mates?”

“Yes. I barely know them, I need moral support. No matter how bad the person giving me said support actually is.”

Nathan looked down at their hands, patting hers slightly. “I’ll come.”

“Thanks.”

He continued to look down at their hands as Mason’s quiet footsteps back to his room sounded throughout the first floor. “I do have a lecture that finishes at 7pm-“

“-You’ll skip that lecture if you so have to.-”

“-Yes, ma’am,” Nathan answered without hesitation, kissing her hand and getting up from the floor. He gave her a small smile. “And I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told you.”

Y/N nodded. “Is there… Is there more you haven’t told me? In regards to Harry?”

Nathan pretended to think for a few seconds, eyes getting big as if he remembered something.

“Nath?”

He chuckled. “No, nothing.”

Y/N hit him on his calf before he walked away. “You’re bloody buying the first round of drinks on Friday.”

“As I should,” was all Nathan said before he danced off to his room. Y/N picked up her fairylights again, trying to get them out of the messy tangle they were currently in so she could finally make this room look like her and her new home.

Friday, 29 September 2017

Y/N was nervous. She was usually nervous before going someplace she had never been before, or to meet people she had never met, but it was never like this. Her nerves were almost always drowned by her natural eagerness to be around people, to be surrounded by friends and strangers. However, this, her first pre-drinks at uni with other people, had her feeling a little too nervous for her own tastes.

She loved parties. Fuck, if she could party every single day, she would. She did not care about the hangover that came the following day, as long as she had a good time the night before. At home in Nottingham, she would have loved to party as much as she had in London, but for some reason, meeting as many new people as she had, made her nervous for some reason. It was weird to Y/N because she loved making friends, but it was different here. She had yet to figure out what about University that triggered this reaction out of her.

A knock sounded at her door and she grunted, which Nathan took as a good enough sign for him to be allowed entrance. He grinned, sitting down on Y/N’s fluffy dark blue duvet cover and looked his best friend up and down.

“Lush,” he said.

Y/N glanced at the mirror in front of her again, running her hands down her sides. Her black ruched detail ribbed crop top fit her perfectly, making her tits look exceptionally good, and the gold necklace and earrings topped it all off. The crop jeans in light wash blue were tightened at the waist by a black belt with silver eyelets, the black lace up boots made her almost as tall as Nathan. Though Y/N had been out on town in Nottingham with this very same outfit, she was unsure about it now. There was a familiar fear in the back of her head; one that had not visited in a while, one that would lay low until it saw fit to paralyse her. Y/N was experiencing only the tip of the iceberg now. The rest would reveal itself later, it would all melt and drown her in nervous ticks and anxious tendencies.

God, she hated how nervous she was. This was not like her at all. Nathan knew this, which was why he picked up on how unusually quiet his best friend was. He got up from where he was seated on the bed, walking over to Y/N and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“What’s up?”

She took a deep breath, looking at him in the mirror. “You remember the party at Jack Lloyd’s?”

“When we were 17?”

“Yeah, and I was nervous to wear that tight-fitting dress? ‘Cause of my stomach?”

“Yes, even though you had no reason to be nervous.”

She sighed. “Well, I’m feeling like that now,” she admitted. “Not as intensely, but it’s there and… I haven’t felt this nervous about being seen in a long time.”

“What do you mean ‘being seen’?”

“When… When you’ve had and still have a hard time accepting yourself, it’s hard to let others look at your body ‘cause you don’t want to exist outside your own head, if that makes sense? Being seen means people will have an opinion, it means they’ll piece together this image of you before even getting to know you. It means them judging you on your looks alone before they get to actually know you.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders a little, Nathan squeezing them ever so slightly. “My confidence is much better now, but I still have those moments every so often when that 17-year-old girl I used to be will come back and whisper something discouraging into my ear.”

Nathan nodded, wrapping his arms around her neck and bringing her to him. She melted into her best friend, taking a grip of his forearms. “I know it’s much easier said than done, but focus on now. You’ve come so far, and though that 17-year-old is part of the reason why you are who you are today, she’s got nothing to do here. 19-year-old Y/N has come so far, she has no time revisiting the past ‘cause she’s going to a party tonight, and it’ll be fucking fantastic, yeah?”

Y/N chuckled, closing her eyes as Nathan planted an encouraging kiss to her cheek. “Guess you’re right.”

“Of course I fucking am.”

She laughed.

“Now, get your vodka, tequila, sourz, or whatever the fuck you’re drinking, and let’s go.” Nathan let go of her and walked to the door, opening it. “You got Chloe’s address?”

“Yeah, it’s Dinwiddy, flat 10.”

“Uni accommodation?”

Y/N huffed, reaching for her purse and putting it over her shoulder. “Did you expect my first-year mates to live anywhere else?”

“Not really. Dunno why I’m shocked.”

Y/N searched through her purse, checking she had everything she needed before reaching for her plastic bag where her drinks were.

“Still remember when I lived in Coopers Court with Harry and Mason. Oh, how time flies.”

Y/N stopped short, narrowing her eyes. “I still cannot believe you didn’t tell me anything about you living in the same flat as Harry your first year at uni.”

Nathan sighed.

“Cannot believe you didn’t tell me he went to Helmond. Cannot believe you wanted us to live together without at least informing me-“

“-Mate, are we done with this?”

“Don’t think I’ll ever be done. You tricked me into this.”

“I did not.”

“What did you think was gonna happen when I found out?”

“We’ve been over this,” Nathan said. “I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal. Harry did not react like this when I told him I promised to live with you my second year, your first year.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, having already heard this.

“In fact, he did not mind one bit living with you.”

“I mind living with him.”

“Clearly, or else we wouldn’t still be having this conversation.”

Y/N tutted, walking past Nathan and down the stairs. “I’ll let this argument be for the time being, but expect me to pick it back up again tomorrow when my mind’s not all over the place. I want to be able to fucking destroy you.”

“Great. Can’t wait.”

Y/N and Nathan started walking in the direction of Dinwiddy, the biggest uni accommodation at Helmond, where most students ended up staying. Parmiter Street was a mere 30-minute walk away, and though they could have easily taken the tube, they both knew that it would be best for them to get some fresh air before drinking. Y/N also wanted to walk off some of her anxiety, though she was fairly certain that would not happen. On one hand she was looking forward to meeting Chloe and the rest of her English Lit gang, on the other, she was nervous. Her nerves came more from fear of experiencing the same blinding anxiety she had when she was younger, for that same feeling of helplessness and bottomlessness that it had brought her. What if it appeared when she was drinking? What if it got worse as she got drunk?

She hated how moving away to London and to University had brought her so much doubt. It was like she had to figure out who she was all over again. Here, it was only Nathan who knew her. Well… him and Harry, but the latter did not count. If Y/N so wanted, she could become a new version of herself. She knew that was something uni offered; finding a new you and shaping it into a person you want to be. There were several things Y/N wished she could change about herself. She had a horrible temper, was a little too loud at times, took many things far too personal, and more. She was unsure how much independence and a new environment could help make her a better version of herself, but she hoped Helmond and London could help her to some degree.

Once they arrived at Parmiter Street, Nathan walked straight onto Dinwiddy campus grounds and showed them the way to flat 10. The brown brick buildings rose five storeys high around them, shaping a small T formation with some benches along the stone path where people could sit on the few occasions when the weather would allow it. Nathan had been there the year before, loads of his friends from his Criminology course had lived at Dinwiddy accommodation and therefore hosted pre-drinks there. Nathan knew his way around, and, sure enough, he showed them right to flat 10. On the right hand-side, the first building, Nathan strolled over to the entrance.

He met Y/N’s eyes, trying to get a picture of just how nervous she was. After all, these were her friends, and had they been home in Nottingham, she would not have been this nervous at all. Nathan was not anxious at all, and he had never talked to – never met – Chloe or any of Y/N’s course mates.

“Listen,” Nathan said, giving Y/N a small smile. “If it gets too much, we’ll just go home, yeah? I won’t leave your side.”

Y/N smiled back, nodding her head. “Yeah. I’ll send Chloe a text saying we’re here.”

“We could just ring the doorbell.”

She looked at him. “Nath.”

“Y/N.”

“What were phones invented for if we’re just gonna ring people’s doorbells? I’m sending her a text.”

Nathan reached forward and rang the doorbell, making Y/N raise her eyebrows at him and take a deep breath as not to throw him against the brick building.

“Yes?” came from the speakers beside the doorbells. It was Chloe.

Nathan nudged Y/N, nodding in the direction of the speakers. She glared at him. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ahh, brill!” Chloe unlocked the door for them and Nathan opened it, letting Y/N enter first. They walked over to the stairs, looking at a sign there that showed them flat 10 at the topmost storey.

“They don’t even have a bloody lift, do they?” Y/N asked Nathan as she looked around.

“Gotta walk, mate.”

“Fuck me,” Y/N groaned as they began their ascent.

“I’d rather not.”

Despite herself, Y/N laughed a bit. They made it to the fourth floor, and Y/N knocked on the door as Nathan breathed heavily beside her.

“Hi,” Chloe smiled as she opened the door, stepping aside to let Y/N and Nathan in.

“Hiya,” Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart beat hard inside her chest. Something about Chloe’s smile, the reminder that she had invited Y/N over, that she wanted her there, settled atop Y/N’s shoulders, making them sag to a comfortable level. “Brought my housemate, hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” Chloe said, turning to Nathan.

“Nathan,” he smiled. “Thanks for letting me come here.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chloe said, closing the door and showing them the way down a corridor towards the shared living space where a heavy bass was throbbing. The fluorescent lights overhead in the hallway resembled those at a petrol station, making Y/N squint as she entered the living room. There sat everyone she had the pleasure of meeting earlier that week. Hayden, Annalise, and Thian were all  around the table with a glass each to drink. Y/N smiled at them, waving her hand as they all grinned back at her. She still felt like she was intruding.

“Y/N, Nathan, do you like sambuca?” Chloe asked, walking over to the kitchen bench to fetch plastic shot glasses.

“Never say no to sambuca, ey?” Nathan grinned, nodding for Y/N to go sit down so he could follow her lead. “We’ll have a shot each of you’re handing out.”

“I am, indeed,” Chloe said, getting two shot glasses and walking over to the table, placing the glasses in front of Nathan who looked absolutely ecstatic.

“Thanks, babe,” Y/N said.

“You lot playing a drinking game?” Nathan asked, getting his drinks out to mix them all together into his paper cup.

“Yeah, we’re playing Never Have I Ever,” Hayden answered. “However, if no one drinks, everyone’s got to take a sip except for the person asking, but the person asking’s gotta take two if no one drinks.”

“Ahh, alright,” Nathan said. “Creative. Love it.”

“This is Y/N’s friend, Nathan, by the way, guys,” Chloe said as she came back over with shots for everyone.

“Oh, yeah, this is Nathan. He’s a second-year, we live in a flat together in Haggerston.” Y/N suddenly felt stupid for not introducing him right away so that Chloe had to. She felt her cheeks heat up, but she refused to look like she felt headless. Instead, she got her vodka and cranberry juice out, mixing it as Nathan spoke beside her.

“We’ve known each other forever, so she moved in with me and my flatmates this year instead of moving into uni accommodation,” he elaborated.

“You knew each other in Nottingham?” Chloe asked, and, for some reason, the fact that Chloe remembered that made Y/N feel all kinds of warm.

“Yeah, been best friends for years.”

“How nice that you got to live together here,” Chloe smiled in Nathan’s direction, then at Y/N.

“It is, isn’t it?” Nathan said, looking at Y/N and giving her a small wink before going back to his drink.

“Right, we need to take advantage of being first-years and get drunk as often as possible,” Thian said. “So, tonight needs to be good.”

“It’ll be good regardless,” Annalise retorted, taking one of the shots from the tray Chloe had brought to the table.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Hayden asked.

Thian nodded. “Pub or club?”

“Don’t really feel like clubbing tonight, you know what I mean?” Chloe asked, the other three coming with exclamations of agreement or nodding slightly. “Pub then?”

“We have a pub right by us,” Nathan said. “Only 30 minutes away and it’s the best one in Haggerston, in my opinion anyway.”

Y/N wrinkled her nose some. “The Stag’s Head?”

“Yeah, it’s always full and they sometimes got live music and everything.”

“We could go there, yeah,” Chloe said. “If everyone’s in.”

“Could we take a bus there?” Hayden asked.

“30 minutes isn’t a long walk, though,” Chloe chuckled. “As long as Nathan and Y/N show the way, we won’t get lost.”

“Don’t count on my navigational skills when I’m under the influence, babes,” Nathan said, making the others laugh.

“We’re better off using Google Maps, he might just show the way to the Gregg’s by Dalston Kingsland where he thinks the entire staff’s got a crush on him,” Y/N said before taking a sip of her drink, laughter erupting again. It felt good, like a pat on the shoulder, and Y/N instantly eased. Maybe she had not lost her old self at all, maybe she could still feel at ease, even around new people.

“They all flirt with me, and who can blame them?” Nathan shrugged his shoulders, whipping his head to the side so his lush, curly red hair dangled at the top of his head, grinning his wide smile and making the lip piercing shine in the fluorescent lights overhead.

The rest of the night went on, and it was easier to talk to everyone as time progressed. Not only because Y/N got more and more intoxicated, but she also just felt better after getting to know them all. Hayden always laughed the loudest, and their laughter was also very infectious, making it hard not to chuckle along with them. Annalise, though she sometimes stuttered over a few English words, was incredibly considerate and would urge Y/N to continue on with her story when others did not hear her. Thian offered Y/N tons of shots and complimented her on her outfit, making it easier for Y/N to feel good and seen, as she had been terrified of back at the flat. Chloe was easily the boss, and did most of the talking, though no one seemed to mind. After all, Chloe had introduced everyone to everyone, so people knew her the best out of everyone.

As time went on, Y/N just felt better. It was easier to talk to everyone and, at one point, she thought she was back at home in Nottingham, introducing herself to strangers at a party. They all made it easy to forget just how nervous she had been. It made her look forward to seeing them in her other lectures and seminars the coming week and all those weeks after that. Maybe these were the people she would spend her time at University with, and that excited her.

Bottles emptied and the volume inside the uni flat had increased massively. It was close to 9 when Chloe suggested they leave, and assured Y/N that she could leave the little she had left of her vodka at her place to pick up another day. Y/N took her up on the offer, insides warm from both alcohol and Chloe’s hospitality.

Nathan showed the way towards Haggerston and The Stag’s Head, arm entwined with Y/N’s for most of the way there. At one point however, Y/N let go of him and ended up walking beside Annalise and Thian, talking about one of the texts they had to read by Tuesday. It was such a mundane conversation, complaining about course work and talking about coming deadlines, that it felt like they had been mates for ages. The chat flowed so easily, the laughter rolled off their tongues, and it just made sense for all of them to be together, walking along the dark London streets in their tipsy states, making their way towards what would hopefully be the first of many trips to a pub.

They arrived at Orsman Road and they could hear The Stag’s Head before they saw it. Y/N had never paid it much attention. She knew she would end up popping by once or twice during her time at uni, but she had not envisioned her checking it out that first week. Nathan held the door open for everyone, resting a hand at Y/N’s back as he followed her indoors last.

The pub was small, but Y/N was sure that it was bigger than it appeared late on a Friday evening. Straight ahead, in a V formation, stood the bar, a wall filled with bottles of all alcohol imaginable behind it, lit up by red light which fit the dark red of the counter surrounding it. Far down to the left, it seemed the rest of the pub disappeared from view, but judging by the stairs Y/N could see, she supposed there was a loo somewhere in that direction, and it also looked to be where one could go to reach the smoking area. People were both sat and stood by the bar as well as booths along the walls. What appeared to be the stage further down to the right was unoccupied by any performers, though a few lads stood there with a pint each. There were no free tables, and this put a damper on the mood quite quickly.

Nathan, however, pulled them all towards the smoking area and they were all pleasantly surprised to see a free table and two benches untouched. Fairylights hung over the outdoor space, from the house and over to the fence on the other side. It lit up just enough, made it possible to see, but not too bright for people to squint when walking out into the night. A few empty pints and a smoky ash tray stood in the middle of the table, but Nathan put the glasses on the brick fence before everyone sat down.

“Alright, I’ll pay for your drink,” Nathan said, smiling at Y/N. “Anyone wanna come to the bar? Y/N’ll watch the table.”

“Ah, yes.” Chloe got up, the rest of the gang following along and walking towards one of the two entrances to the pub. Y/N got her phone out, looking to see if she had any notifications she had to check out, but there were none. She was about to resolve to scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, when she heard a slightly familiar voice.

“Hi there.” Mason sat down on the edge of the opposite bench, a cigarette in hand and a small smile on his lips. “Didn’t know you and Nath would come here tonight.”

“Oh, hiya,” Y/N smiled. “No, we didn’t know where we’d go after pre-drinks. He suggested this place, so we brought some of my course mates with us here.”

“You going out later?”

“No, think we’re just gonna stay here.”

“Yeah, this is a chill place,” Mason said, puffing out some smoke.

“This is my first time here.”

Mason raised his eyebrows. “Is it?”

Y/N smiled. “You think I should’ve come here earlier?”

“More to do with the fact that our flat just loves this place, thought Nathan would’ve at least taken you here already.”

“He did now.”

“It’s my favourite pub around here, and Harry-“

“-Mase!” Nathan exclaimed, grinning as he came over with two gin and tonics. “You’re here as well!”

“Yeah, it’s a Friday night, innit?”

“Hi,” Chloe said, sitting down beside Mason with a wide grin on her face. It seemed like she wanted to introduce herself or to be introduced, but before Y/N could say anything, the conversation resumed.

“Hey,” Mason answered, looking back to Nathan who seemed to be ecstatic to see one of his flatmates. “Hear you haven’t taken Y/N here till now.”

Nathan sighed. “Not like I didn’t want to, just haven’t gotten the opportunity.”

“What’s so good about this place?” Y/N asked, looking from Nathan to Mason.

“Just close, innit? Also, it’s crowded, but it’s not as crowded as most pubs down by Kingsland Road,” Nathan elaborated.

“You lot have a good night, yeah? Need to get back to my mates.” Mason leaned past Chloe, stumping the rest of his cigarette into the ashtray before he got up, walking over to a big group of lads. Chloe stared after him as the rest of the conversation around the table started back up again, Y/N pretended to not see how she was checking him out. It felt like she was intruding on a moment that was not meant for anyone but Mason to see.

“You’re living with him?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah.”

“He’s well fit.”

“Guess.”

Chloe giggled. “You’re taking the rule to not shag one of your flatmates seriously, then?”

“Shouldn’t everyone?” Thian asked, furrowing his brows. “It only complicates everything.”

“How? It’s only a shag. It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with them,” Chloe said.

“Can’t really control your emotions, though.” Nathan shrugged. “Two of my flatmates last year shagged. He had feelings for her, she just wanted a one night stand. Didn’t end well.”

Y/N put her drink back down on the table after a long sip. “Well, if you’re clear beforehand and make it clear that it’s only for this night and there’s no emotions behind it other than temporary bliss, then that’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Nah,” Hayden said, shaking their head. “It’s an unwritten rule. Don’t shag your flatmates.”

“Is it a serious rule?” Annelise asked, furrowing her brows.

“It’s got serious consequences,” Hayden answered.

“But if you’re both aware it’s only a one time thing, then is it serious?” Y/N asked.

“Babe, sex is complicated. You’re always just gonna be connected in a way, you know?” Nathan said.

“I can promise you I’m not connected to Ollie Lee in any way, shape, or form,” Y/N huffed, sipping her drink again as Nathan laughed, the other joining in because of Y/N’s obvious distaste in this Ollie Lee.

“Was he awful in bed?” Chloe asked, smiling as she looked between Nathan and Y/N.

“No, I was just desperate one night last year.” Y/N rolled her eyes at herself. “Let’s just say that mid-shag he asked me if I had to go to the toilet, and when I said no, he told me that whenever I felt like I had to, just pee on him instead.”

Gasps erupted around the table, and a second later, everyone started howling with laughter. Nathan kept on hitting his thigh, leaning into Y/N and laughing. Though it was a fairly embarrassing story on Y/N’s part, her definite lowest of low, she could not help feeling good about making everyone laugh like this. Looking around at everyone, she suddenly felt very good about herself, despite this being her worst sex story ever.

It was not like Y/N had fucked her way through Nottingham and had tons of stories to tell. In fact, she hadn’t shagged that many. She had had sex with eight people, three of them being women, one non-binary, and the other four men. She had been very vocal about the fact that the best sexual encounters she had had, were with women. They had all been so nice, and though it had never escalated to anything romantic beyond that one night together, they had made Y/N feel the best she’d ever felt. She suspected women just knew what to do, that they cared how she felt and did not solely care about their own release.

The group ended up just sitting around and talking for a while. It was nice to go somewhere outside of the uni setting and get to know some people, this was what uni was all about, or so Nathan had told her countless times. These people were as anxious about making friends and being liked as she was, but there they all were, making friends and going outside their own comfort zone.

At one point, Y/N had finished her drink and went to get another round for her and Nathan. The pub seemed to be even more packed now that it was closer to midnight. Everyone wanted to drink the week away, to forget about their lives for a little while and just spend time in good company. Y/N strolled over to the bar, looking up and down the counter to see if any of the bartenders were free to help her. The second her eyes landed on a familiar figure, she halted.

Harry’s eyes were already on hers as he stood almost right opposite her mixing a drink. He let go of a sigh, looking down at whatever he was mixing.

“You…” she started, raising her eyebrows. “You’ve got to be fucking everywhere.”

“Only ‘cause you’re every single place I usually am,” he said, continuing to make whatever drink he was making.

“Do you work here then?”

He looked over at her, raising one of his eyebrows. “I’m not a hallucination now?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Can’t believe you thought I was a bloody hallucination.”

“Believe it. It’s all Nathan’s fault anyway. I’ll never forgive him for forcing me to live with you for a year.”

Harry let out a dry laugh. “To answer your question: no, thought I’d help out behind the bar to get me adrenaline going.”

“Well funny,” Y/N said. “You got me cracking up, can you tell?”

“Last time I checked, I got you laughing pretty hard, yeah.”

“That’s literally two years ago now.”

Harry finished the drink, putting it in a glass and placing it in front of the person standing just beside Y/N. Her eyes first landed on the watch on his wrist, the nice brown leather, and then her gaze travelled upward. She looked up at the man who was already staring at her, giving him a smile when she smiled at him. Their eye contact was put to an abrupt end when Harry poked the man’s hand holding the drink with the card machine. Y/N looked back at Harry, and then at another man with strong build and big, curly hair who stepped into view beside Harry.

“I’ll take care of her, Kai,” Harry said.

This Kai looked at Harry, blinking once before he met Y/N’s eyes again.

“She’s my flatmate,” Harry elaborated, making Kai study Y/N a bit more closely before he nodded once. He was very good looking, with a broad nose, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips, his brown skin glowed in the dim lights of the pub.

“That new one,” Kai said.

“Yeah.”

Kai smiled then, nodding in Y/N’s direction. “Nice of you to come check on Hazza. It’s always hectic on Fridays.”

“Oh, our other flatmate took me here, I didn’t come by choice.”

Kai’s eyebrows rose on his face and he looked at Harry who barked out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders at Kai as they exchanged a look. Harry walked over to stand right in front of her, signalling to Kai that he could take care of this one. Kai walked off, taking someone else’s order.

“Even feistier than I remember, you are,” Harry said.

She cocked her head to the side as Harry gathered a glass for her drink, already assuming that was what she was going to get. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.”

It left her lips before she even registered she was thinking it. Harry only took a deep breath before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, clearly choosing to ignore her statement. “What can I get you, Y/N?”

“Sex on the Beach, please,” she said. “Two of them.”

“Alright.” Harry started making them right away, signalling to someone that he’d be right with them after this. Y/N looked around her, meeting the gaze of the man who had just stood by her at the bar. He raised his glass in her direction and she smiled back. She definitely had to go talk to him after this. He seemed to be a bit older, maybe five years older than her, but just for tonight, she did not care.

Y/N glanced back at Harry and watched him, fascinated by how fast he managed to make the drinks. “How long have you worked here, then?”

“A year abouts,” Harry said. “Worked in a hotel when we moved to Brum. Tended to work at the bar when the bartender was out.”

Y/N nodded, eyes on his hands as he poured ice, shots, and all types of alcohol and liquids into her drink. “You lived there till you moved to London?”

“Yeah.” They were quiet for a moment, both of them remembering all of the things that were left unsaid between them. All of those words, moments, and memories they had created during those months the two of them had crossed paths in Nottingham.

He cleared his throat as he put the drinks down in front of her. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t much like Brum.”

Y/N took a grip of the glasses. “And why’s that?”

“Dunno. Just didn’t find my footing proper.”

“In the two years you lived there?”

He shrugged. “Guess not.”

Y/N clicked her tongue. “Was it that bad?”

“Nah, I met tons of ace people and Birmingham’s a decent place, but…” He shrugged again. “Dunno.”

“Hmm,” she said, trying to decipher his words and if he was being truthful or not.

“Anyway,” Harry said, nodding to the drinks. “Take that other drink to Nathan – as I’m sure it’s for him – and when you bring that middle-aged man home later: please, be quiet. I have rugby at 11 tomorrow morning.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open. “How dare-“

“-Y/N, what’s taking so fucking long?” Nathan shouted as he came up next to her. His eyes fell on Harry behind the bar. “Oh… forgot to tell you Harry works here.”

“Nath, shut the fuck up,” Y/N said, looking from Nathan and back at Harry.

Harry nodded towards the door, silently telling them to fuck off, and they did. They walked back to the rest who were still sitting by the same table outside. Nathan took his drink from Y/N and sat down, but just as Y/N was about to sit down, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She looked over her shoulder rather fast, blinking a few too many times when she locked eyes with the same man who had been standing beside her by the bar.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a broad smile.

Y/N almost felt herself blush. “Hey.”

“I’m George.”

She smiled. “Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he said, he gestured at the bench where she had just been about to sit down. “Mind if I sit down with you?”

Her smile widened. “Not at all.”

Y/N felt fucking terrible. Her room was too hot, too humid. Body sticky with sweat, limbs aching, throat burning with yesterday’s alcohol, and head throbbing, she opened her eyes slowly before shutting them again, groaning into her pillow. She hated herself for not drinking as much water before bed as she usually did when coming home from a night out. Sitting up, she looked down at the man beside her, racking her brain to remember what his name was. She ran her hands over her face, reaching for her glasses so she could see something, but quickly realising she left her contact lenses in the night before. Her eyes were so dry it hurt to blink and she suddenly realised why her head was hurting more than normal. Cursing herself, Y/N got out of bed with her glasses perched at the top of her head, picking up a tee shirt and some tights, pulling on her fluffy dressing gown before she made her way out of her room as soundlessly as possible.

She stumbled her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. First thing she did was take her contacts out, struggling to do so as the contacts were so dry, her eyes having dried out with them. She splashed water in her face next, then drank the equivalent to the Atlantic Ocean before splashing even more water on her face. She then put her glasses on, realising that she had to let her eyes relax some after what she had just put them through. It took her awhile to gather up the courage to go to the toilet, where she made herself throw up the nausea she was feeling before having a very long peeing session.

Moments of the night before came rushing back to her, and as she sat there on the toilet, she remembered more and more. The name George came to her like out of a fog, and then the details started falling into place. She remembered how he’d bought her more drinks, how the two of them had sat talking all night about nothing in particular. She remembered his hand on her thigh and him leaning into her to whisper in her ear. Then they were in her room, her front against the mattress and his weight on her back. It was all hazy after that, most of it just a mess of limbs and chasing a release that she had never caught up with. Though Y/N usually made it clear that she hadn’t come, she was too worn out to tell George. She remembered falling asleep almost the second they were done. To say she had been underwhelmed was an understatement.

When she was done, she walked down the stairs for the kitchen. Once again, she was left stopping right in her tracks as she walked in. Harry stood by the stove, eyes on the pan in front of him where he was making eggs, a few asparagus and peppers cooking beside the two frying eggs. For a moment, she debated walking back upstairs and leaving Harry to it, but then he glanced over at the door to his right, meeting her eyes right away. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning back to his breakfast. God… Y/N wanted to set herself on fire. It’d be better than staying inside a room with Harry alone after years apart.

He wore rugby shorts that reached mid-thigh, a white tee shirt to go with it, and a hairband to keep his hair out of his face. Y/N realised just then that he was getting ready to leave for rugby as he had told her yesterday he would. She could remember him doing rugby when they knew each other three years ago as well, but she didn’t think he’d still be doing it.

The small conversation they had in The Stag’s Head the night before lingered in the air between and around them. That was reason enough to turn and walk upstairs again. But as Y/N remembered who was waiting for her in her room, she stepped into the kitchen. She got two slices of bread and put them in the toaster, getting some butter and milk out of the fridge as she waited. She watched Harry’s back as she filled the kettle with enough water, quickly looking away when he moved to put his eggs on the two slices of bread on his plate. Biting her lip, Y/N got a mug and a teabag, looking back over at Harry as he stood holding his breakfast plate. Y/N took a deep breath, knowing exactly what she had to do.

“Okay,” she said only a second before Harry turned around to face her, mouth open as if to say something. He must have noticed the tension as well. “We need to talk this through. We can’t live together for the next year if it’s gonna be like this. Just gonna put that out there right away.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Y/N leaned her hip against the counter, feeling relieved that she was not the only one out of the two that had thought about how incredibly awkward this was. “You’ve thought about it too?”

“Of course. I’ve been fuming ‘cause Nathan didn’t tell you sooner, and I’ve also found it annoying how I’m the bad guy in your eyes when this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Nate.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I haven’t thought of you as the bad guy-“

“-Y/N,” Harry said, putting his plate down on the counter again. “You’ve been angry at me this whole time. I can tell.”

“My frustration with you has got nothing to do with this situation, but all to do with how you just left without even saying goodbye before you moved away.” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m trying to not blame you for this as well, but you’re right, Nathan’s the one that made this happen, we should be angry with him.”

“So you have been mad at me.”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t it just easier, no matter how stupid the reason, to just find more things to make you angry at a person? To make you hate them even more? Isn’t it just satisfying to find other ways to be frustrated with them?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I am.”

“Anyway,” Y/N continued, getting her bread slices out of the toaster to put butter on them. “Why didn’t we say anything? If we’ve both thought it’s been awkward, I mean.���

“You’ve been busy shagging men 10 years older than you, I didn’t get the chance.”

“Look at you not being frustrated or annoyed with me.”

“I told you to be quiet last night,” Harry said, getting a fork and putting some asparagus and paprika in his mouth. “You weren’t.”

Y/N got the kettle as it finished, pouring some hot water into her mug. “So, what you’re saying is that you’ve been angry with me.”

“Not angry, just…” Harry sighed. “Fine. A little angry last night, yes.”

Y/N smiled. “And he wasn’t 10 years older than me, he’s five years older.” She paused. “I think.”

“Right,” Harry said, eating more of his breakfast. “Listen…” He swallowed. “I think we should just… We should just address it.”

“Yeah.”

They were both quiet, looking at the other and waiting for them to say what they were both thinking. Though it looked like he was about to reach for his bread to take a bite, Harry stopped himself. Instead, he took a deep breath, and said, “It was fucking terrible. That first time…” He trailed off, narrowing his eyes before he ran a hand over his face, remembering it all over again. “I didn’t even last a minute. It was mortifying.”

“It wasn’t half as mortifying as you trying to go down on me afterwards.”

Harry let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that wasn’t really…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, we were both part of it. You don’t have to apologise for that.”

“You hear all these stories about how losing your virginity is supposed to be so beautiful, but it’s not. It’s really fucking not. Especially if you lose it to someone else who hasn’t had sex before, it just makes it double as awkward.”

Y/N nodded. “It was shit. Both of us were shit.”

“Exactly.”

“But I hope you know the reason I’m frustrated with you isn’t because of that.”

Harry looked away, biting at his bottom lip before he said, “Yeah, I know why.”

“Good, just wanted that to be clear.”

Harry nodded, taking his bread slice in his hand, making sure the egg wouldn’t fall off before he brought it to his mouth. “Well, now that we’ve addressed that, let’s just move on.”

“Let’s.”

She gave him a small smile before taking her teabag out of her mug and throwing it in the bin. There was still some tension in the room, but not enough for Y/N to want to set herself on fire like she had wanted to before. Just as she was about to take a grip of her plate and cuppa, the sounds of footsteps made her look up. George, who had been asleep last time Y/N checked, walked by the kitchen, halting as he saw Y/N and Harry standing there in the kitchen. He gave them both a smile Y/N could tell was forced, and then walked straight for the door without a single word or a second glance. Y/N and Harry looked at one another, sharing a look before they both chuckled ever so slightly.

“Cracking bloke,” Harry mumbled.

“Innit,” Y/N huffed, picking up her breakfast. “Have fun at rugby practice.”

“Cheers.”

She walked by him, hoping that her room did not smell of George or anything resembling alcohol or sweat. If it did, she would hit her head against the wall. But, lucky for her, George had left the door open, which had given the room a little bit of time to get the smell of last night out. After putting on her fluffy duvet cover, she opened the windows to let some fresh air in, and left her door open as she sat down in bed with her laptop, tea, and breakfast.

Just as she was about to put her plate down on the nightstand, she noticed something already laying there on top of her books. Adjusting her glasses, Y/N squinted at the object. She put her plate down on her duvet cover and reached for the wristwatch George had left. It was the nice leather one she had seen last night by the bar, the one that had caught her attention first. The digital clock seemed to have stopped working, displaying a random time that Y/N in her hangover state could not tell anyone what was. She was too fucked to even try and understand the numbers in front of her.

She put the clock back on her desk, hoping that she’d run into George soon so she could give it back to him. Or maybe Nathan could stalk Facebook and find him so she could message him there to tell him. She was glad she hadn’t exchanged phone numbers with George as she did not want to meet him again, but right now, she wanted to give him his watch back.

Y/N heard the front door open and then close, indicating that Harry had just left for rugby, and, as far as she could tell, she was the only one currently awake in her flat. The morning was quiet, she felt oddly at peace as she put on Fleabag and sipped her cuppa, and little did she know, this would be one of those rare moments over the last three years that this emotion inhabited her body.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 7th March, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta reader! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache​ 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh​ 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #1dff #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGIWGOJGI PLS COME TALK !!!!

[filmflowersbangtan]

Dead of Night (preview)

pairing: gang member!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff 

warnings: swearing | drug mention | gangs | in the full story, there will be violence, blood, fighting, threatening 

preview word count: 4k

you meet jungkook in a diner in the early morning where it’s just the two of you in the entire place. An interesting relationship ensues, and you find out he’s not who you thought he was. He’s a prominent member of the city’s most powerful gang, surrounded by danger and trouble. But you still want him.

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author’s note: I sincerely apologize for being gone for so long and for not updating any of my fics. To everyone waiting on IMSWY pt. ii: I am so sorry for taking so long with it. It’s still in my WIPs, and I haven’t given up on it yet, but it is on the back burner right now since I have many other ideas bubbling up that I absolutely have to write or else they will probably internally set me aflame (lol). 

I will be deleting many of my fics soon. I will be keeping “Unbound,” “I Must Still Want You,” “Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold,” and “Lonely Planets.” Everything else I will be deleting because I have no desire to finish working on them or I simply do not like them anymore and can’t see them going anywhere.

I also will probably not be writing anymore series. Everything will most likely be one shot because every time I start a series, I get too overwhelmed with the idea of updating parts and finishing them that I just end up postponing them for too long and leaving too many people who have been looking forward to them disappointed. I do want to say that I have been going through So Much since I last posted Lonely Planets pt. ii and IMSWY, but I am in a so so so much better place now. That’s why I’m even writing this story now.

This will be a oneshot. It will not be a series. It will be very long. I am almost finished with it, but I am posting this preview just to see if you all would like to continue reading it.

Thank you all. I appreciate all the feedback and the follows and the reblogs so, so much. The feedback and the reblogs of Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold is what really motivated me to write this one. I hope you all enjoy it. 😊

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Being alone was like an addiction. It was fulfilling and appealing and…well, lonely. 

Two in the morning diner stops during the weekdays had become routine. The place was completely empty save for a waitress and a cook and maybe a tired trucker. You tucked yourself in a booth in the back. The vinyl seats were cracked and uncomfortable, the lighting was stark and washed everything raw. But it was comforting. Sleep was evasive and your apartment was barely unpacked, boxes stacked haphazardly in the dining area and the mattress on the living room floor. It was your idea to move to this vast city far away from home. This city swallowed everything in its incessant noise. Nocturnal and teeming with cars and neon lights. It never rested and the two of you had that in common. You took solace in that. 

The air was thick with bacon grease and bitter black coffee. Every morning you had waffles and orange juice. The refills were free and the waffles were the exact same circumference as the plate underneath it. Time was stagnant here. The city pressed against the plate glass windows, but the reflections from inside barred its entry. If you looked out, you simply stared directly at yourself. Maybe there was some kind of metaphor in that. 

The night shift waitress, Bethany, set your plate of steaming waffles on the table as well as a glass syrup dispenser. She knew you by name and you thanked her for the food. She smiled sweetly and left you be. 

The door chimed, denoting the entry of another patron. You didn’t look up. Bethany greeted the person in her cheerful customer service voice. You knew she didn’t actually sound like that. Once, you glimpsed her smoking a cigarette by the dumpster at the back of the diner arguing with her boyfriend on her cell phone. She had a tired voice. You wondered if she was lonely, too.

As you ate, Bethany took the patron’s order. From where you sat, his voice was a mumble. “You got it!” Bethany said before breezing away.

You glanced up from your food at the patron. Hair dyed blond, dark brown at the roots. He had a gentle face and a mouth made for smiling or furtively suppressing them. Tattoos were stippled on his arm all the way down to his knuckles. He was staring down at his phone, his fingers were slender and embellished with many silver rings. He was impossibly handsome. A paragon of beauty. 

And he looked up. Right at you. Why was it at that moment you happened to notice him, he decided to notice you, too?

Your scalp prickled with hot embarrassment. You immediately averted your eyes back to your waffles. There was only a bite remaining. Good. You could finish, get your check, pay, and leave.

Boldly, you chanced another glimpse. He did, too. This time, a smile, broad and lovely, stretched across his face. It was endearing and intimate and you had never felt so seen. It was exhilarating. A small smile crept onto your mouth. You couldn’t help it. His smile was contagious. 

This was how the following hour went. Weighted glances and secret smiles from across the room. He received his food, and he picked up his plate and mug of coffee and…was he coming this way?

You watched him, eyes wide, as he sauntered over to your booth and set his items on your table. “May I sit?” he said. His voice was the perfect match to his face. Smooth, sonorous, soft. Crushed velvet. 

Jerkily, like you had never done it before, you nodded. He sat. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” you replied. 

“I’m Jungkook.”

You told him your name. He repeated it once, twice, thrice. Like he enjoyed the feel of it in his mouth, rolling it around like a piece of hard candy he didn’t want to dissolve on his tongue just yet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached his hand over the table. You smiled and shook it. 

His plate was piled with pancakes and sausages and scrambled eggs. He dug in. In between bites, he asked, “So what brings you here at this time of night?” “I have trouble sleeping. And you?” Your chest was tight with the awkwardness of it all, but he appeared to be perfectly at ease. 

“I’m just a night owl. Or I’m a vampire.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued eating.

Surprisingly, laughter bubbled from you until you couldn’t help the giggles that shook you. How long had it been since you had a conversation with anyone? Your store had been a drought for the past month, only a couple of people coming in a day. You didn’t call home because your parents would ask how you’ve been, and that topic lit a fire in your skull. Bethany was just a waitress doing her job. And Nora was always busy. It was refreshing to have someone sit with you. Talk with you. Want to be near you. 

His eyes danced at the sound of your laughter. It was an innocuous expression, boyish in how pure it was. 

You covered your mouth with your hands to mask the laughter. And he gently grabbed your wrist and removed them. “I like your laugh.”

Butterflies unfurled their wings in your stomach and fluttered in a frantic cluster. He resumed his meal as if nothing happened. “So what do you do?”

You cleared your throat. “I own a used book and record store downtown. It’s small and kind of hidden from the street, but it’s there.” You chuckled nervously. You were proud of that store, but you might have to close it down soon and return to your hometown with your tail tucked in between your legs if the revenue continued as it did. 

His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s super cool. I like records. Books, not so much. Where is it located?”

You told him the address. “By that bodega on the corner.”

“The one that sells the really good blue raspberry shaved ice?”

You snapped your fingers. “That’s the one.”

“I’ll definitely have to stop by.” 

This was how the next few hours went. Talking about everything and nothing. He had lived in the city his entire life, worked as a freelance artist, had an apartment not too far away. Plates had been swept away by Bethany long ago. Refills poured, drained, and poured again.

And then, “Do you maybe want to get out of here? Kick it at my place?” Jungkook asked. His expression was open and genuine. 

You didn’t know if that was a good idea. But talking to him was stimulating and you didn’t want it to end. 

He noticed your hesitation. “Turn you location on your phone, I’ll even give you my address so you can send it to your friends. Anything to make you feel comfortable.”

He was right. He didn’t live that far. It was barely past five o’ clock in the morning, the city was still awake, billboards alight. The buildings towered, dark against the predawn blue of the sky. The apartment building was modest and typical of the city. Clean and affordable but just expensive enough to be appealing to a specific demographic of college students and those with decent enough jobs. His apartment was on the third floor and was charming with brick walls and high ceilings. There was a bookshelf packed with vinyl records, even more in milk crates. A record player in pristine condition sat on an end table beside an armchair. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jungkook said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the front door. 

“You said you liked records,” you replied, browsing his collection. 

“I did.”

“This isn’t liking records. This is a goddamn treasure trove.” You pushed your hair behind your ear, eager to move it from your face. “Bowie, Billie Holiday, Bob Dylan, Prince. You even have a rare version of Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland. With the naked women! This is incredible.” 

He laughed. “I see you are a woman of taste.” 

“If only my dad could see this. I’m afraid to touch anything.” 

“I’m sure you don’t have clumsy hands with records. Since you have a record store and all.”

You laughed. “I appreciate the trust.”

“So what would you like to listen to?”

You mulled it over, taking your time examining the sleeves of the records. Then you found one.

He smiled when you showed him the cover art. “Perfect.” 

Frank Ocean’s Blond. A modern classic. Perfect for the liminal hour of five AM. 

Jungkook slipped it from its sleeve, fingers on the slim rounded edges of the record. He carefully settled it on the turntable, placed the needle on the disc, and played the album. There was the classic crackle of vinyl, and then the first track emanated. It was a phantasm of sound, rich and ethereal. Light but weighted. The song was the deep blue of the sky before the sun decided to pull itself above the horizon and emblazon the sky with its myriad of colors. It was the perfect song for this liquid moment that felt like a dream. This beautiful stranger standing before you with his incredible collection. 

And then you were in Jungkook’s arms, slowly swaying to the music. You smiled up at him and him down at you. 

The album continued on in the living room, serenading to no one. You and Jungkook had moved to the bedroom, lounging on the bed. The horizon blushed peach, casting the room in half-light. You both lay on your backs, him with an arm slung casually behind his head, you with your hands folded delicately on your stomach. 

“Thank you for paying for my meal today,” you said to him meekly. 

He smiled. “Thank you for the great conversation. And having an amazing taste in music.” 

You laughed. “What made you come sit with me anyway?”

That was when he looked at you, his mouth still slung in a smile, but his eyes sincere. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks went hot and you giggled nervously, covering it with your hands. He rolled over and carefully removed them, his eyes on yours. For a brief moment, time was still. Your breath caught in your throat. He was so close. His lips were so close. Your noses were just barely brushing. His voice was husky when he said, “I like your laugh.”

And then he kissed you. 

In the living room, Frank Ocean sang about nights and new beginnings. 

In the bedroom, you and Jungkook were breathless. Hands on thighs. Hands in hair. Teeth on collarbones. It was a innocent hunger, one that never got too peckish. He was careful with you, didn’t dare to remove your clothes. “I like you,” he breathed into your neck. You gasped at the sensation. 

You kissed until you both eventually succumbed to sleep, the morning sun pouring drowsy golden light across the room.

It was well into the afternoon when you woke to the sound of a shower running. The room was unfamiliar. Definitely not your barren apartment with the boxes strewn about the place. And you definitely weren’t on your living room mattress tangled amongst its waves of sheets. The bed you were in was the most comfortable you’ve ever experienced. Brick walls, plants, beautiful abstract canvas paintings leaning against the wall. Then you remembered. 

The diner. The vinyl collection. The sunrise. The kiss. 

Jungkook. 

He was in the shower and you were fully dressed and the night had to have been a dream. But it wasn’t. Reality settled back onto your shoulders in agonizing waves. You were hours late opening the store. But oh, you wanted to burrow into these soft, sweet-smelling sheets and dissolve into nothing. Eventually you got up. 

The door to the bathroom was open. You thought about telling him you were leaving, but instead, you drew your name and number into the mirror steam and went home to shower and change yourself.

An entire week went by and he never called. He didn’t return to the diner, either. It hurt. Every time you lay on your side, willing yourself to sleep, the phantom feeling of his hands and lips barreled you at such an unwelcome rush you would gasp. None of it was real. You had to keep telling yourself that. None of it was real. 

Life went back to normal. Jungkook was a fleeting daydream that sifted in and out of your thoughts. The store still barely got any customers, except for the same two or three crate diggers who visited like ghosts. And then Nora, your best friend, breezed through the door. She was a city girl through and through. Large sunglasses, the omnipresent iced coffee, the expensive wardrobe curated specifically for being in front of a camera. She was partly why you moved here. The two of you were from the same hometown, and she had escaped first to chase the tail of a fashion designer career. 

“Move here!” she had said during a phone call. “You’ll love it. You’re super hipster and this city eats that shit up! And you can open up that record and book store you always dreamed of.” 

She wasn’t wrong. You loved this city but this city seemed to not love you back. Now, she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and set her iced coffee on the counter top before you. You were sitting behind the register, feet up and reading a book when she had come in. You looked up from the paperback in your hands. “And what have I done to deserve your presence, Your Highness?”

“Good morning, dork! We’re going to a party.”

You kicked your feet down. Slipped a bookmark in the book and closed it. And you simply said, “No.”

She blinked, her smile stiff. “Why not?” 

“You know I have to open this place every single morning. I can’t go to a party and get drunk and miss another opening.”

“Stop making this store your entire life.”

“It is my entire life.”

“Well, live another one. Just for one night.” She clasped her hands together and actually pouted. “Please.”

You sighed. “You don’t have anyone else to go with?”

She perked up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I do. I just want you to go with me. I want you to have fun for once. All you’ve done since you been here was work.”

Every single dollar and penny from your savings went to this store. It was your lifelong dream. And Nora—lovely, naïve Nora—had never needed to work for anything a day in her life. She meant well. She was never intentionally ignorant. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating. 

She also didn’t know of your time with Jungkook. It was embarrassing that he never called. It angered you that he called you beautiful and said he liked you only for it all to be false. Thank goodness you didn’t have sex with him. 

“I’ll have fun once I’m a millionaire or something,” you said to Nora.

She huffed. “I can find you someone to cover the shop for the night. You won’t even have to pay them. Please just come with me.”

“No. What if they steal something.”

She stared at you flatly. “Do you really think any of my friends—my friends—would steal? Let alone steal any of this stuff? No offense.” 

“Why do you want me to go so badly?”

“I already said. Fun. You know, music, drinks, guys.” She sang the last word and accompanied it with a little shimmy. 

“I have plenty of music and I can buy my own drinks.”

She slammed her hand against the counter top, startling you. “Stop being fucking difficult and come have some fun with me.”

So, grudgingly, you went. Albeit late because you didn’t trust anyone else to close the shop for you, but you went nonetheless. Nora did your makeup. Just glitter eyeshadow and a little eyeliner because you insisted you didn’t want much. And she picked out your outfit—a black lace bra, a crop top cardigan, and a pair of white shorts. 

“Because I can’t dress myself?” you grumbled, sliding on the clothes. 

“Exactly that. You dress too…hipster-y. You need to be hot for tonight.” 

You hadn’t worn that bra since you dated Namjoon. He was pretentious and arrogant and such a city boy it made you lightheaded. You met when he waltzed into the store shortly after you moved here. He smiled at you and you practically melted. The books were what he came for. He bought a Russian classic novel and at checkout, he discussed with you the allegory of sharing fruit in literature. He was eloquent and intelligent and so damn gorgeous you fell for him in that same moment. He scribbled his number on the receipt and told you to keep it. 

The relationship lasted for four months. He suggested you move into his high rise apartment downtown with him. It was a modern edifice, all glass and steel and money. He was the wealthiest person you had ever met in your life. And, stupidly, you were in love. 

And then you saw his text messages with some unfairly beautiful girl he followed on social media about how good she looked in his bed . He said he was lonely, that you worked too much, what else was he supposed to do? Needless to say, you left him. And you hadn’t seen him since. 

Now, Nora said to you, “And don’t think about wearing those fucking platform boots.”

“Why not?” you said, frowning. “They’re cute.”

“They look ridiculous. Like those boots that one goth girl from that cartoon you like wore.” 

You grinned, mischievous. “That’s exactly why I bought them.”

To Nora’s dismay, you wore the fucking platform boots. 

The party was in an underground venue. It wasn’t all red wine and an elaborate excuse to brag about money, like the gatherings Namjoon liked, it was edgy. A live band played pop punk on a stage, the lights in the place were dim save for the spotlights and the white Christmas lights behind the bar. Greasy pizza and liquor and neon lights. You brushed elbows with someone smoking a joint, and you were pretty sure someone was doing coke in the bathroom. 

Nora pulled you to the bar where she ordered herself a cocktail and you a craft beer. She knew you so well. 

There were so many people here. You mentally kicked yourself for not bringing flyers for your store. 

And then you saw him. Nora was talking your ear off about how hot the frontman for the band was and you almost choked on your beer. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spat.

Nora blinked rapidly. “What? What happened?”

“This is why you brought me here. You cunt.” You didn’t mean to call her that. It wasn’t a word worn with frequent use in your vocabulary. In fact, you hated the word. But it was deserved in this situation. 

Namjoon. He was standing near the stage with a craft beer of his own in his hand, bobbing his head to the music. He didn’t like places like this. They were tacky to him. He didn’t even listen to this genre of music. What the hell was he doing here? 

The girl standing next to him turned to him and smiled. She was wearing lipstick as red as murder and her bob was so black it reflected the lights with an envious luster. She had a septum piercing, the two silver balls glittering in the low light like two tiny stars. That’s when it clicked. He was here because of her. She was that unfairly beautiful girl in his text messages. Your skin felt incandescent. 

“He had to see how hot you are. I thought you would enjoy shoving that in his face.” Lovely, naïve Nora. You wanted to slap her. 

You stood from the bar stool and set your craft beer on the bar. “I’m leaving now.”

Her face was slack with regret. Before she could form an apology, you turned and walked away. 

You were a few moments from the door when you heard your name. It wasn’t Nora. You stopped and your breath hitched. Your turned slowly, preparing to see Namjoon with that girl by his side but instead—

“Jungkook?”

His hair was black now and almost as shiny as that girl’s bob. It hung past his ears in gentle waves. He stood there in a baggy black shirt and jeans, his thumbs tucked into the front pockets. Silver bracelets draped from both wrists. In this lighting, he looked ethereal. Infernal. This couldn’t be the same man you shared a chimerical morning with. He looked like he had been created by the darkness of the city’s nights. 

Maybe it was just the hair. 

“Hi,” he said in the same way he did when he sat your table at the diner. It could’ve been mistaken as sheepishness, but his eyes were not meek. Besides the hair, you couldn’t figure out what was so different about him. 

Breathlessly, you said, “Hi.”

“You look nice.” 

Over his shoulder, you noticed Namjoon go to the bar. Nora scowled at him. He smiled amicably at her and his mouth moved, saying something. She froze, and her eyes immediately darted to you. Namjoon turned and saw you. And he started your way. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

You should’ve ran out of the venue. There were a million other things you should’ve done, but instead you grabbed Jungkook and kissed him. 

Initially, he went rigid with shock, but he melted into the kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth. “Miss me that much?”

You pulled away. “I did not.” A glance over his shoulder and Namjoon was gone. You audibly exhaled. 

“What happened?” 

You ran a hand over your face. “Ex.”

“Ah,” he said. “Is that why you were leaving?”

“Yes. And now I’m going. Goodbye.” You whirled around, shoulders tense with embarrassment and headed for the stairs. 

“Wait.” He caught up to you on the stairs. “Can I go with?” There were small white string lights strung in the stairwell and the glow reflected in his eyes. They were so brown. 

“Don’t you have friends to be with?” Your phone buzzed in your back pocket with an incoming text message. Most likely your own friend dying to know who the guy you just kissed was. You ignored it. 

“They’ll be fine.” He grinned. 

“Okay,” you said, feeling yourself smile as well.

There was no destination, but you ended up at a park, sitting beside each other on a swing set. Your feet dragged in the wood chips as you pushed yourself back and forth slowly. He looked up at the night sky and sighed. “Do you want to know why I hadn’t called?”

You just looked at him. 

“This may sound like a corny excuse, but… I was afraid of what you would think of me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated before saying, “If we continued seeing each other, you would eventually find out that I’m not a freelance artist. I do paint, but that’s not what I do.”

You could feel your heartbeat gradually speeding its pace. “What do you do?” His eyes fell down to his hands. He turned them over, studying the lines in his palms. His hair slipped over his eyes. He was a portrait of affliction. “I’m a Lost Boy.”

You didn’t understand. He noticed your silence and looked up at you. “The Lost Boys. This city is practically run by them.” He corrected himself, “Ran by us.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I’m in a gang.”

Your voice was a whisper. “What?”  

He quickly added, “If you no longer want to associate with me, I understand. They’re—we’re—dangerous. I mean, even if you haven’t heard of us, you know us. The leather jackets, the vandalism, the fights. That venue is owned by us. The drugs at that event were supplied by us. That band playing is in our pockets. My apartment is paid by dirty money.” He laughed quietly to himself then, almost pityingly. 

The night air around you was thick with your own dread. “Is being around you dangerous?” You hadn’t meant for your voice to sound so small.

“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could hear the unsaid “but” in his tone. 

“But what?” you prompted.

He chewed on his lip. A dimple in his left cheek appeared. “I won’t hurt you, but I can’t promise your safety. If you do decide to be around me.”

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