#(in that early show Lightly Teased sort of way)

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: General Audiences Words: ~7.3K Summary: “Connie, can we talk?” When a much needed moonlight conversation with his best friend turns into an attempted (and failed) "spring break” from all his responsibilities as a half-Gem, Steven finally comes to terms with the full truth of his heritage and all six thousand years of its consequences. Takes place between The Question and Made of Honor.

It's been five long years, but I've finally finished the second chunk of this old ass Steven Universe wip. See, this is why you can't discount the possibility of a fic author coming back after goddamn years, HAH. Because sometimes we sneak up on 'ya. Anyways, enjoy!

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Chapter 2

Steven scales the sand covered steps with a hop and a skip, the mere possibility of getting to spend the night at Connie’s enough to make him float across the boards, his toes barely touching the surface. Finally, a real, legit Jam Buds sleepover! Where they can play games and muse over deep philosophical topics and laugh over stupid nonsense until the whispers of dawn, and then sleep in until noon the next day— the promise of blueberry pancakes wafting into the room to awaken them from their slumber like a golden fried miracle. In their almost two years of being best friends, somehow they’ve never had a real one. At least, not a real one in his books. He doesn’t count their weekend stay on that jungle moon because they were fused the whole time. And then the one other occasion he slept at her house, during that blizzard a year ago, they were sequestered to different rooms and barely got to hang out at all.

This time, though… this time things will be different. That is, if her parents even allow it. The fate of their sleepover is still sadly riding on a big ‘if.’

But he has high hopes tonight! Tonight Dr. Maheswaran allowed Connie to come over to Beach City on Lion even though it was past her normal curfew. Adding to that, she’s been getting more and more lenient about her daughter’s involvement in Gem stuff as of late. Her frantic demand for texted updates every half hour has since softened into a far more palatable brand of motherly concern. At this point, she only asks that she send a quick notification right before she leaves his house via bus, Lion, or warp pad.

He swings the front door open, entering the very beach house in question. Or— put more specifically— his own ‘room,’ just external to those held in the heart of the temple. Beyond the wide mouth of the attached cavern, two out of five of the gems on the temple door are alight. Pearl and Amethyst’s. He smiles, glad that they’re all finally seeking the rest they deserve. Now, as for the others… Though he doesn’t boast any clairvoyance of his own and thus can never know for sure, he likes to believe Ruby and Sapphire warped away on a romantic walk.

Absentmindedly humming the melody from that song he was working on earlier, he slips his phone out of his pocket. He needs to text his dad where he’s going before he completely forgets in his excitement. (A common occurrence, really.) Even if he doesn’t live with him in the van anymore and goes on a whole bunch of dangerous missions across the planet all the time, he knows Dad still appreciates knowing if he’s planning on being outside Beach City overnight. Ease of mind, and all that. His fingers blaze across the keys.

hey just so u kno im headed to connie’s for the night

He presses send, and watches his message pop up in a blue bubble on the screen. After a brief pause, he quickly adds:

love u dad!!!

Steven garnishes the text with a colorful slurry of heart emojis, so frequently used that they all show up on the very first page of his emoji keyboard as suggestions. There, perfect. Send!

He sets his phone down and begins gathering necessities for the night. Out comes his cheeseburger backpack and a fresh change of clothes. His phone charger too, can’t forget that. Next he swipes his toothbrush, toothpaste, and a comb from the bathroom. (Although upon second thought, he decides to forego the comb.) A few bags of Chaaps go into the bag, along with his GameKid, in case Connie wants to pass that go-kart racing game she likes back and forth and compete for the fastest time trial. That just leaves one more essential item to track down. Oh pajamas, where are you in a young man’s time of need?

As he scours the loft for the missing clothes item, he hears the tell-tale sign of the temple door opening. His head spins around at record pace.

The laughter clues him off before he even sees their faces. The two Gems exiting the temple are nearly buried under an assortment of burlap bags and tools, among which include shovels, rakes, and handheld garden hoes. He can just barely distinguish the word ‘fertilizer’ printed in faded ink on one of the four bags.

“Oh ho, we’ve got to get you some cheesecake sometime,” Amethyst says to the green Gem next to her with a peel of laughter. “Trust me, you haven’t lived until you’ve felt that custardy goop sloshin’ around inside.” She drops the stack of fertilizer bags, which hit the floorboards with a resounding thud. “Oh hey, look who’s back!”

He grins wide, waving from his loft.

“Hey Amethyst! Hey Peridot!”

“Good timing, we were totally just gossiping about you.”

Peridot pokes her head up over the mass of metal tools she carries, eyes blown wide under her visor with her usual untamable enthusiasm. “She was telling me how you’ve really been the progeny of Pink Diamond this whole time. Hah! I guess this means on technicality I never rebelled against the Great Diamond Authority after all!”

Steven’s smile falls flat, his grip on the backpack growing taut at the sudden mention of his mo- of Pink Diamond in this context.

Thankfully Amethyst is quick to sense the tense shift in atmosphere and steps in. “Nah, believe me, ya’ still did, ya’ nerd.”

“Oh. Well!” She presses her lips into a thin line and lets the tools fall out of her arms, mentally directing them to hover just before they hit the floor to minimize the clatter. “Never mind then! I…” Her cheeks flush with hardening light. “I think I need to step aside for a moment.”

The two youngest Crystal Gems watch in silence as Peridot hurriedly toddles back through the open temple door, disappearing beyond a mini mountain of junk in the vast trash heap that is Amethyst’s room. He glances down at his hands, still clenched tight around the straps with a white knuckled grip.

Amethyst noisily clears her throat. In an instant his attention shoots back up, meeting her sympathetic gaze. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she says. “I don’t think she really gets how big a deal all this is, yet.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he replies with a small shrug, the tension that once wracked his body slowly easing. “She’s still learning. I bet the news is pretty confusing for her, coming from Homeworld.”

And with that his attention slips back to the puzzling and peculiar mystery of his missing jammies. He presses his fist to his chin, humming a bemused note. They aren’t anywhere to be found on the floor, or in the hamper. Maybe they got stuck under his bed spread?

“Oh, Steven,” Amethyst says with a long sigh then. He watches from the corner of his eyes as she flops face first into the couch and props herself up on her side. “You care too much sometimes, y’know that?”

“Yeah, I know…” he murmurs softly, whisking his comforter completely off the bed. At that point he catches a glimmer of soft cottony blue— tucked tight in the tight space between the mattress and the wall— and his entire mood makes an abrupt heel turn right into joyous relief. His brow rises high. “Oh, hey! So that’s where my pajamas were hiding! Mystery solved!”

“Sometimes way more than people deserve,” she continues unhindered, lazily winding her fingers through her hair.

The pajamas go right into the cheeseburger backpack, joining everything else he’s packed for the night. Across the room, the temple door still stands ajar and waiting. Every once in a while the sound of clattering metal rings from within Amethyst’s room, accompanied by nasally yelps of frustration. Peridot. He imagines she’s attempting to harness greater control over her metal based telekinesis abilities, training hard in isolation as a means to cool herself down from embarrassment. To make up for what she sees as a social blunder, perhaps. Or… to impress the group with a show of what she’s truly capable of. The whole scenario is intimately familiar. About a year and a half ago— before Lapis, before the hand ship, before all the happenings that molded him into the person he is today— he stood directly in her place. The newbie. The proto Crystal Gem… with unreliable powers, low confidence, and little understanding of the truth. When all is said and done, this little spark of himself he recognizes within her makes him far more willing to give her the benefit of the doubt with her awkward phrasing.

“I don’t think she meant anything by it, if you’re still talking about… all that.”

“And you’re probably right, but. It’s okay to get… mad, y’know?”

Something in her voice gives him pause. Maybe it’s the measured hesitation in her words that clues him in, or the desperation lurking just beneath. In any case, he has the niggling sense that this is something she’d been thinking about for a while.

“Like, in general,” she continues. Even though Steven isn’t looking at her, he can nearly sense the intensity of her gaze through the little hairs rising at the nape of his neck. “Forget all of this— you’re allowed to get upset about stuff. To put yourself first for once. Just sayin’.”

His eyes narrow, more in prolonged exhaustion than anything. Just as he informed Connie, it seems that Amethyst is still on that ‘Operation: My Duty is to Make Steven Feel Better’ kick. And good grief, does he wish she wasn’t. He’s never once asked any of the Gems to spend their energy on him like that. In fact more often than not, it simply makes him concerned that she’s deliberately shirking her own self care in favor of supporting his.

Stars.

Amethyst deserves so much better.

His pocket buzzes, providing a well-timed escape from all these thoughts. A text! He grins as he pulls out his phone to catch a glimpse of it:

Stay safe and have fun, kiddo.

Dad’s message ends with a thumbs up emoji. Sweet, now to gather his stuff, ask Amethyst where everyone else is so he can say goodbye real quick, and hit the-

“Steven, Steven!” Peridot yells, barreling into his room at a full sprint. “Look what I can do now!”

He gasps and quickly scuttles down the stairs to meet her, happy that she’s no longer confining herself to the lonely isolation of the temple. “New metal ability?” he guesses, confirmed by her wide proud grin. “Show me, show me!”

Even Amethyst’s interest is piqued, the Gem casually kicking her feet over the side of the couch as she sits up with a groan.

Still running at them, Peridot flicks her hand in the air, motioning in a tight circle as a little gardening spade follows her telekinetic command and wildly swings around her head in a razor straight arc. “Look how much control I have now! I even- EEEUGH-!”

In an instant, her foot catches on the same pile of tools she dumped on the floor earlier.

Peridot must have lost mental control of the spade as she tripped, because suddenly it’s careening straight at Amethyst’s head. Without a second thought, Steven dives in front of her. He raises his arm in instinctive defense, but truthfully he hears the resonant clang of metal against hard light before he even consciously registers the fact that he’s summoned his shield. Another clang sounds, this time against the wall’s crystal. Amethyst yelps. Something dubiously aerodynamic zips over their heads at a thousand billion miles per hour as all three of them duck.

The window by the door shatters into oblivion. The tool to blame, however, is now insidiously nowhere to be seen.

Recovering, the three of them gawk blankly at the scene of their crime. Steven fidgets, absolutely at a loss for what to do next.

“Uhh…”

“Ooops,” Peridot mutters, spilled out face first on the floor.

Amethyst breaks out into raucous peals of laughter. “Dude, that was awesome!” she says as she holds up her hand to the other Gem for a high five. “I’ve never been almost poofed by gardening equipment before!”

She shakily raises her own hand to accept it, vision still clearly unfocused as she rides the shock of it all. “I, uh— you’re welcome?”

The temple door peels open again. Peridot scrambles to her feet in seconds, falling into line with the other two co-instigators. Out rushes Pearl, who practically crumbles to bits right then and there upon seeing their dumbfounded expressions and the shards of glass littering the floor.

“What on Earth happened?” Pearl screeches. “Is everyone okay? Why is the window broken, who—!?”

As quickly as it began, her fit halts. Steven figures that the sight of them uninjured is reassuring enough to quell the bulk of her panic. Still, there is the rather damning issue of all the damage they caused. Fearing their goose is cooked, none of them dare avert their eyes from the elder Gem. Pearl glances back and forth between their sheepish, guilt stricken faces and the busted window, pursing her lips.

Relenting, she crosses her arms and sighs heavily.

“I guess I’ll let Greg know it needs to be fixed. Again.” And with that she spins on her heels. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, swiping through her phone contacts. “Thank goodness he’s rich now…”

The moment she passes back through the doorway, Steven, Amethyst, and Peridot all gasp in relief. 

“Well that just happened,” he says, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. He can’t help but laugh. The purple Gem boisterously joins in right behind him.

“I legit thought P was like, gonna implode for a second,” she chimes, so tickled by amusement she has to gasp for breath midway through. “I don’t think I’ve seen her so pale since— since that time you straight up sacrificed yourself to Homeworld!”

His mouth presses into a slight frown at the grim reminder, his own laughter cut short.

Peridot rolls her eyes. “Eh heh heh, yeah! Laughing at poor, humiliated Gems! How hilarious! I’ll have you two dirtbombs know that my technique was absolutely perfect when I was practicing by myself.”

“O-oh, sorry,” Steven cuts in quick. “We didn’t mean to sound like we were laughing at you. I honestly think it’s super cool, how much you’ve improved at all the metal stuff!”

She squints at him. “Hmmph.”

Crossing her arms, she drifts into the corner by the bathroom to sulk and lick her wounds.

Steven’s chest tightens as he climbs back to the loft to grab his backpack. Gosh, he hopes they didn’t hurt her feelings too bad. He slings the straps over his shoulders, the weight settling comfortably on his back. Watching from below, Amethyst serves him a mischievous, knowing smile.

“So, backpack man. I never asked. You and Connie. You’re bailing us for an extended breather too, huh?”

His brow raises. He leaps from the upper level, landing right beside her.

“Wait, you know about—?! Aww man, am I that predictable?”

“Nah, Sapphire just said earlier that you might go stay with her.”

“She predicted that,” he says, deadpan. “That’s literally what a prediction is.”

Peridot ambles back towards them as they banter, still looking a bit sullen but overall in higher spirits than before.

“But dude, chillax, I ain’t judgin’ or anything,” Amethyst says before his worries could wander too far. “Honestly, I think everyone needs a break after all the… well, you know.” Grinning, she loops her arm around the other Gem’s shoulders. “And hey, ol’ Peridactyl here and I are skipping town for a day too. We’re gonna go on a rampage!”

Ever the troublemaker, she gives her a noogie, loose fist flattening the meticulously maintained edge of her platinum hair. Peridot flushes dark green and squeaks, flapping her hands at her in a futile attempt to evade her attack. He can’t help but giggle at the sight. Nerds.

“We’re actually checking on the garden we cultivated at the southern edge of facet 3,” Peridot explains while fixing her hair. She runs her fingers through it, reshaping as needed. “Thus the shovels and fertilizer. But she also promised a duel to help me master my metal powers!”

“So we may be gone a while,” the quartz says with a wink, nodding towards the broken window.

“Hey! I’m not that bad all the time!”

“What can I say though, we shorties gotta stick together.”

“Woo, shorty squad!” Steven cheers, pumping his fists into the air. “You gotta show me this garden when I get back. I bet it’s real pretty.”

“It’s ultimately a work in progress,” Peridot says, puffing out her chest. “Just like my metallokinesis.”

Amethyst jabs a finger in the air. “Oh, and speakin’ of pretty. Before I forget…”

Mashing her lips together in concentration, she presses a hand to her chest, gemstone glowing as she pulls something from inside. He watches, enraptured as always, as a familiar half-moon shape emerges from within. Clusters of small, shimmering crystals catch the light, encased within a thick rind of stone. He lets out a gasp. The amethyst geode! The one they found together in that abandoned quarry while out on Ruby’s cowboy adventure! He completely forgot. Awww look, it’s like your little sister, he’d joked. He thought the way the glow of the sunset diffused through its complex faceting was really pretty, and so they decided to split it fifty fifty. Plus, something about that specific chunk of quartz simply resonated within him, to say the least. Like, in a deep “this should belong with me” sort of way. He’s not quite sure how else to explain it. He remembers his dad questioning with some measure of amusement why they, literal living Gems, would want to keep a geode of all things as a souvenir, but Amethyst merely shrugged and explained she was like, 99.9% sure it was inert.

Dude, she said, not every hunk of mineral you find is sentient. It’s not like it’s weird for you humans to collect dolls, or action figures or whatever. I just think it’s funky lookin’.

Standing before him in the present, she offers it for Steven to take. Peridot lets out an ‘oooo,’ dark irises glittering at the sight of the delicate purple crystals.

“Your half. I’m not carryin’ this for you any longer, man. Unlike ol’ P, I don’t make a good handbag.”

“Rude…” he says, taking the geode in one hand as he drops his backpack and unzips the hamburger patty pocket with the other.

“What? It’s true! She can store like, a thousand things in there indefinitely, but me? Go too long, and all I get is wicked indigestion.” Upon this declaration she belches, crude and unrestrained. This seems to tickle Peridot pink, who giggles something fierce. Amethyst gives her belly a pat. “Ahhh, that’s better.”

The geode nestles nicely between his pajamas and his spare underwear. Licking his lips with stubborn determination, he fusses with the zipper until the overstuffed bag is completely sealed. He doesn't need to pack this silly ol' hunk of rock, but… some stubborn part of him can’t bear the thought of leaving it behind, and anyways, he figures Connie will think it’s pre-

Oh… Oh shards! Connie! She’s been waiting on the beach this whole time!

“Oh shoot!” he cries, rushing to sling the bag over his shoulder again. “I, uh- I really gotta get going! D’ya know where Ruby and Sapphire went? I kinda wanted to say bye to everyone before I left…”

Peridot shrugs, and utters the wordless vocalization universally recognized as ‘I dunno.’

“Those two? They left to be all cute and gross like, half an hour ago,” Amethyst says. “I’ve no idea when they’re comin’ back.”

The moment those words leave her mouth, Steven hears the warp pad behind them activate. A wave of affection crests within him at the familiar sound of the Gem’s teleporter come to life- almost bell-like in its melodic resonance- and he swings around just in time to watch two of his most favorite people in the whole world take form from within the radiant blue glow of the warp stream. If there’s one thing constant exposure hasn’t dampened, it’s his fondness for that sound.

“Oh never mind, looks like they’re crashing our wild party right now,” the purple quartz amends. “Look lively!”

When the light fades, Ruby and Sapphire step off the warp pad side by side, pressed so inseparably close to one another they might as well have already been fused.

The backpack’s weight jostling as he moves, Steven dashes across his room and throws his arms around the pair, whooping in delight. “Ahhh, you’re here! You’re back! Just in time!”

“Steven!” Ruby cheers, reciprocating his hug in kind.

“Hello, Steven!”

Even with their faces currently obscured from his sight as he embraces them, he doesn’t require any visual to hear the smile evident in a familiar voice. Well, two familiar voices. But though they are currently apart, Steven knows Garnet is always there with them, kept alive within the spirit of their love. Love for one another, and for everyone else, too! In Sapphire’s voice, he recognizes tones of Garnet’s unconditional affection, as unyielding as the future stretching to the horizon before them. In Ruby’s, he finds an open playfulness, and a fierce passion running miles deep for every facet of life and experience she’s come to adore on Earth. In the end, Garnet is just as much a part of them as they are a part of her.

In a complete betrayal of her height’s assumed strength, the short red Gem lifts both him and Sapphire off the ground as they laugh, the weightlessness of the trio’s joy almost physically palpable between them.

“So, quick curiosity question,” Ruby asks soon enough, pointing at all the glass strewn across the wood flooring once she’s set them both back down. “What’s with the window?”

“That’s—” he glances towards Amethyst and Peridot, who are both shaking their heads vehemently, signaling for him to shush right this instant— “a very long story. Pearl said she’s gonna talk to Dad and get it fixed.”

Sapphire smiles, nuzzling into her partner’s side. “Don’t worry, love— it’ll be fixed well before our wedding.”

Steven’s expression folds into a nervous wince. He threads his fingers together, shifting on his feet awkwardly. “Oh hey, uh… about that… I know I promised to help y’all start on the planning tomorrow, but—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Sapphire says, and holds up her gemless hand. “We understand you need some time apart from us, to reflect.”

Amid this conversation, out of the corner of his eye he catches view of Pearl exiting her temple room, phone in hand. An uncharacteristically dopey smile stretches wide across her face as she texts. From what little he’s aware of, she’s been meeting up with a few human women lately. He can’t help but wonder who the lucky someone is on the other side.

“Yeah!” Ruby eagerly chimes in response. “We can start all that whenever you’re ready. After roughing it in the wilderness with me, you deserve a break!”

“And Steven…” The clairvoyant Gem parts her bangs. Reflected in her singular ice blue iris is boundless love, and wisdom, and… and maybe, he realizes, maybe a whisper of sadness. “While we both acknowledge the importance of spending time away from loved ones to recollect oneself, please know that you will never be a burden to us. We’ll always be here to listen, if you want us to.”

“Thanks, that- that means a lot.”

Pearl strides across the warp pad to join their group.

“Good news! Greg has the new window on order,” she shares, lifting her phone to her gem and stashing it away in her headspace with a quick glimmer of light. “It won’t arrive until early next week, but that should give us more than enough time to replace it and clean up the house for the big day, don’t you think?” Her glance then passes to him, and she gestures at his backpack. “Oh, Steven! Are you going somewhere?”

“Just spending the night at Connie’s. I’ll probably be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

She crosses her arms, serving him a wide, knowing smile that would’ve had him rolling his eyes if he weren’t already in such a blissful mood about it. “Spending the night, that’s new!”

“Yeah,” he says, not able to help the slight nervous laugh that bubbles up from deep within the more he thinks about this turn of events. “Yeah! It’s gonna be so awesome.” He turns back towards Sapphire, threading his fingers together. “Hey, will I… do you think I’ll find what I’m looking for?”

The clairvoyant Gem hums for a moment, fingers pressed to her lips.

“Yes,” she ultimately responds. “But try to eat your ice cream quickly.”

“Wait, what?”

“And remember- we love you.”

“We love you a whole lot!” Ruby chimes.

“Yeah-ya,” Amethyst says, pumping her fist in the air. “Go take your break, little man. You deserve it.”

“And you’ve got to come visit our garden when you’re back!” Peridot adds, gently spinning a small bent nail she must’ve found on the floor in circles above her pointed finger.  

Steven laughs, pulling the straps of his backpack snug across his shoulders. “I’ll come check it out, I promise.”

The last person who steps closer to bid her goodbyes to him is Pearl. She strides forward to tuck a stray flyaway curl behind his ear, her hand then gliding down to rest against his cheek. He leans into her affectionate touch with glee, reveling in the knowledge that he’s wholly and relentlessly loved.

That he’s needed.

“Be safe, Steven,” she says.

“I’ll be fine. But please—” he wraps her in a tight hug— “don’t forget to take care of yourself too, okay? We’ve all been through a lot lately. And you for longer than most.”

Pearl gives a warm chuckle. “Look at you, always watching out for us. When did you grow up so fast?” They pull apart, and she briefly clasps both her hands on his shoulders. “I’ll be sure to let Greg know where you’re off to, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I already texted him.” Waving, Steven starts to shuffle his way to the exit. “Bye, everyone!”

An overlapping chorus of goodbyes sings back to him as he leaves. The very last voice he hears before emerging out into the brisk nighttime air is Amethyst’s:

“See ya’, Ste-man!”

The moment he closes the door he exhales deeply, allowing the weight of his Gem heritage and all the responsibilities and unspoken expectations that comes with it to slough from his mind like grains of sand between his fingers. No crises, no monsters, no more constantly holding his family together on his own. He’s only recently realized how much the others have relied on him for morale all his childhood. Thankfully, through every hard fought battle- be that literal or interpersonal- they’re getting better and better at taking care of themselves.

And starting tonight, he’ll commit to taking care of his own emotional well-being too, by taking some much deserved ‘me’ time.

Well, ‘me plus Connie’ time. He’s left her waiting long enough.

She sits on the beach right where he last saw her, leaning against Lion like he’s a big, soft, purring beanbag. He can’t help but grin. Lion himself may object, but as far as Steven is concerned, this is a pretty apt description.

Connie stands as he jogs those last steps towards her, and effortlessly slings herself on the magical creature’s back. Lion rises on his paws as well. “You ready?” she asks, offering her hand.

“Yup!” He gives the overstuffed cheeseburger on his back a pat. “All in here! Sorry I took so long.”

Their fingers connect. With a brief grunt of exertion Connie’s grip tightens around his wrist, and she pulls him up behind him. Truth be told, he doesn’t need help climbing on Lion’s back at all, with his floating ability. But his best friend is strong, and so thoughtful… and though he might burn to cinders if he ever admits it out loud, he’d give up anything for an excuse to hold her hand.

“It’s fine,” she says, scruffing the top of Lion’s head. He purs, leaning into her touch. “The two of us have just been stargazing out here."

“Hey, uh... your mom knows I’m coming over now, right?”

“Umm…”

The mild panic that flashes over her face says it all.

“You didn’t tell her?” he asks in shock, more surprised than anything else. Ever since the hospital incident, Connie and her mom have grown closer and become a lot more honest with each other. Or at least, so he thought.

“Well, I haven’t told her yet. It’s just- she already bent her rules to let me see you tonight. I’m kinda… worried that if I ask in advance over the phone she’ll say no. But I’m also worried she’ll just say no anyways... y’know? Aughh, maybe this isn’t a good idea after all.”

She groans, and buries her face in Lion’s cotton candy mane. Steven frowns. His heart thrumming with concern, he rests his palm on her shoulder.

“Hey. I’d love to have a sleepover with you, but only if you’re comfy with it. I’d hate for you to feel pressured into doing anything for my sake.”

“No, no… it’s not that I feel pressured,” she says, voice muffled and tiny. “I’m just… so scared of getting in trouble that it’s hard to even talk to her some days. I don’t even know why!” She lifts her head, revealing glossy eyes. He swallows. The sight of a friend on the edge of tears is always a punch to the gut. He’s seen far too much of that in recent days.

Taking a deep cleansing breath, she gazes towards the sky- towards the boundless cosmos they can’t reach on their own- as if she dreams she may find the answer she yearns for somewhere among those stars. “I love my parents,” she continues, “but it’s just- sometimes I feel like I can’t ask them for anything. That I still have no control of my life at all. I’ve come so far with them on that, on them not hovering over me 24/7, but then I just- just get so paranoid about things, and-! Gahhh!” she cries, gripping the hair at either side of her head. “Compared to everything you’re dealing with it’s dumb, I know.”

“It’s not dumb,” he says. “Everybody’s going through tricky stuff all the time. And just because some of it may seem less heavy compared to everything else, it doesn’t mean it’s less heavy for you.”

“Yeah…”

“And hey— worst case scenario, if she says no, I’ll just come over and see you tomorrow. No big deal!”

“Yeah,” she repeats, her countenance lightening ever so slightly. “I guess you’re right. What’s the harm in asking?”

“So… Jambuds night still on?”

“Oh, it’s on,” she grins. “But before we leave, one question—”

“Yeah?”

“A few minutes ago… Was that a gardening spade that flew out the window?”

“Yup,” he says with a nervous laugh, wrapping his arms around her midsection as Lion begins to sprint across the shore. “That was Peridot. Don’t ask, I don’t really understand how it happened either.”

~~~

Steven and Connie give a sharp yelp of glee as Lion exits his portal and skids to a rapid halt right in front of her parents’ home.

“Man, I don’t know if I’m ever gonna get used to that,” Steven quips, sliding off the feline’s back and holding out his arm to help his friend down. “It’s just like the roller coaster at Funland, except three times more awesome!”

“And more scary,” Connie adds, accepting his offered aid as she hops to the ground as well. “‘Cause like, at least the Thunderbird has a lap bar.”

Lion serves the two of them a dull grumble, his tail flitting around every which way as he stalks his way across the quiet neighborhood street towards the Maheswaran residence.

“Aw, no!” he says, rushing forwards towards the curb and running an apologetic hand through his fur. “I’m sorry, bud. We didn’t mean it like that— you’re perfect just the way you are, lap bar or not.”

But before he can move one more footstep up the path to their front door, Connie stops him by the shoulder.

“Wait—”

He fixes his gaze square on her, barely even breathing as he watches his friend’s anxious glance shift from Lion, to him, to the homey glow of the living room window. Hmm. It seems Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran are still awake, even at this late of an hour.

“Let me handle things in there… okay?” she requests. “I don’t want any of my silly nonsense becoming your burden, too.”

Steven nods, and pantomimes zipping up his lips. An extra flick of the wrist is all it takes to lock them up and throw away the key.

She gives a faint sigh of relief at his agreement, and lowers her hold on his shoulder until the very tip of her pinkie is dancing along the outer ridge of his hand. Clueing in to her silent ask, he interlaces their fingers together, squeezing tight as a show of camaraderie and reassurance. He hums, and tilts his head towards the doorway.

“Shall we?”

Connie fishes her own key (a real one, not metaphorical) out of her back pocket. “Well… here goes nothing,” she says, interlaced with a soft, nervous laugh.

She unlocks the front door and pushes her way in, tugging him along. (Yawning, Lion plops himself down on the front lawn, apparently holding zero interest in facing what comes next.) Steven can’t help but sweat as he steps through the frame and promptly matches eyes with her two very not thrilled parents sitting side-by-side on the couch. Of the pair, her mother— with her arms crossed and expression taut— seems the most irked. He swallows, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Oh geeze, this can’t be good. The last thing he wanted when he called up his friend tonight was to get her in trouble!

Connie doesn’t even match eyes with them as she scurries on past, instead leading him straight towards the stairs.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad, I’m back!” she blurts out in a flustered hurry. “I brought Steven with me and he’s gonna stay for the night I hope that’s okay with you, I promise I’ll leave my door open, okay, goodnight!”

Dr. Maheswaran springs to her feet, expression blown wide with frustration.

“Connie. Connie Varana Maheswaran, get back here this instant!”

Steven stops in his tracks right along with her like he, too, were sitting in the hot seat. The hairs at the back of his neck prickle with nauseating dread as his friend lets go of his hand and— despondent, gaze wholly fixed upon a segment of carpet that’s fraying at the joint right where it meets the hard wood floors of their entryway— steps forward to accept her fate. Her mother continues, tone softening with a weighty dose of parental concern.

“When you texted you’d be back in ‘a few minutes,’ your father and I expected that to mean five. Maybe ten, at most. Not almost thirty. Connie, we were worried sick that something happened to you out there. You have to keep us in the loop if you’re going to be out so late.”

Her father nods in agreement, still perched on the edge of the couch. He leans forward as he prepares to add his ten cents, clasping his hands together with his elbows perched atop his knees.

“If you want us to continue to loosen up your curfew like you’ve asked,” he says, “you’ll need to prove to us that you can be responsible.”

“And this?” Dr. Maheswaran throws her arms out. “Was not it.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Connie cries, gripping even tighter at the strap of her baldric as she makes her case. “I really, truly thought it was only gonna be a few minutes! But then Steven was trying to pack some stuff, and I completely lost track of the time, and I—”

Her mother serves him a sharp gesture, brows threading tight. “And why exactly is he here so late in the first place? You know we have a strict rule against boys sleeping over.”

Steven swallows, feeling for all the world like his flip-flops are glued to the floorboards amidst his deep embarrassment at this mess. Yep. There it is, just as she predicted earlier. Oh boy. He almost wonders what the odds are of him spontaneously developing some sort of super-boosted diamond invisibility power out of nowhere, because right now he craves nothing more than to phase through the walls and disappear from this whole confrontation entirely. Stupid, stupid, stupid… he should’ve never agreed to come here tonight in the first place.

Connie, however, doesn’t seem so easily deterred from their mission.

“Mom, please listen,” she says, tone soaked with desperation. “Some crazy Gem stuff happened the past few days and he says he really needs some time away from his home right now, so I thought that maybe we could—”

“Absolutely not.”

“But it’s not like he hasn’t spent the night before! Remember the last—”

“The last time was just an exception because we were snowed in.”

“Yeah, but- a snowstorm’s not the only reason someone might need a different place to stay!”

Dr. Maheswaran plants her hands upon her hips, voice raising in volume. “Young lady, I’ve already bent the rules enough for you tonight. When I say no, I mean no.”

Biting at the inside of his lip, Steven resolves to just see himself out. After everything he’s witnessed within his own family unit the past few days, he really, really doesn’t want to watch this argument unfold any longer than it has to. He reaches forward to tap at her shoulder, inhaling shakily through his nose.

“Uh, Connie, I—”

“Oh come on, please?” she outright begs, smashing her hands together as if in prayer. “Just one night, just one more exception to your rules for Steven’s sake, that’s all I’m asking. One!”

The two of them proceed stare at each other with iron cored intent, both scrying the other’s features for any exploitable weaknesses, both daring the other to bend to the other’s resolve. Steven clenches his jaw tight as he glances back and forth, watching this silent showdown unfold like it’s some sort of abstract, emotion-based tennis match.

And then— a true blessing— Connie’s father (who he’s starting to suspect is the natural balance to her mom’s strict rules) finally steps in.

“Honey,” he says while rising to his feet, voice as calm as the midnight tide. “Remember that night in San Carlos…”

At his side, Connie visibly cringes.

He has absolutely no idea what the significance of this ‘San Carlos’ place is to Dr. Maheswaran and the others, but the mere reminder of it seems to be enough to bring them all to a state of heavy pause. Her mother clenches her fist tight at her side, squeezing her eyes shut as she reflects upon all the (unknown) relevance of her husband’s timely comment.

Then, all that tension snapping like an over-stretched rubber band:

“Fine. Fine,” she relents, lifting a finger to rub at her temple. “But… not in your room. We’ll set up the couch instead. Now, go get in bed. I expect to see lights out in five, all right?”

A surge of palpable relief courses across his friend’s features.

“Yes, Mom. Goodnight. Love you.”

She steps forward for a quick hug and kiss, which her mother returns in kind.

“Love you too,” she hums, clutching her safe and close for just a beat longer than usual. “Even when you do drive me crazy sometimes…”

Connie moves on to embrace her dad, who presses an affectionate smooch to her forehead, before crossing over to him. She wraps her arms around him tight, nestling her chin against the crook of his neck as she— no longer weighed down by the intimidating burden of a thousand nebulous what-ifs— softly exhales all that pent-up stress and anxiety against his ear.

“Well,” she whispers, “it’s not exactly the sleepover we hoped for, but- you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, your couch is real comfy!” he says, making his voice as chipper as he can muster despite his slight disappointment. Pulling away from her hug, he reaches up to adjust the slipping strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll just be downstairs, and we can still have tons of fun tomorrow. Anyways… nighty night.”

A slight smile creeps its way upon her lips as she slings him her rhyming response. “Don’t let the robonoids bite?”

“You betcha!” he chirps, throwing up a pair of finger guns.

Connie giggles bright and clear before spinning on her heels and twaddling on up the stairs, pausing for the briefest of moments at the landing to glance back at him with a grin and a slight blush. He waves her off.

And then… as she disappears around the corner to get ready for bed… there were three.

Not super sure what the proper etiquette is when one enters a friend’s house totally unprompted and pressures their parents to adjust their rules on the fly, Steven flashes them a nervous, closed-mouth smile.

“So…” he begins, shuffling upon his feet.

But thankfully, he’s not forced to think of a continuation to this utterance, because Dr. Maheswaran sees fit to take the reins of conversation for him. She visibly deflates, pressing a hand to her temple as she vents air through her lips.

“I’m sorry you had to watch all that,” she apologizes, sliding her glance between him and her husband. “It’s just that… this isn’t something we normally allow. But I suppose, as with everything, that sometimes making the best decisions as a parent means growing with the times and adapting your own rules.”

Steven gives a wholehearted nod. “I understand. Thank you,” he says in earnest, “for letting me stay here tonight.”

“Anyways… I’ll go find some blankets for you,” she hums, and strides down the hall with renewed purpose.

The living room plunges into complete silence as she travels upstairs, leaving him alone with no one for momentary entertainment but Connie’s dad, who he admittedly hasn’t interacted with much on his own and thus isn’t sure how to make casual small-talk with yet.

Mr. Maheswaran clears his throat, noisily and awkwardly. “So… it’s been a rough couple of days for you, eh sport?”

Rapping his fingertips against the worn straps of his backpack, he rocks back and forth upon his heels. “Yeah, you could say that…”

~~~

Deep within the folds of his overstuffed bag, that amethyst geode he socked away earlier pulses with a quick burst of energy. It manifests in the form of a low level frequency too high for human ears to pick up on— just one chime, at first. Then two.

Three.

Four.

Steven, even with his Gem heightened senses, doesn’t pick up on it. Perhaps it’s because he’s deep asleep, or perhaps it’s because his body is too organic in build to properly intercept the signal. But either way, it doesn’t matter. The consequence is still the same.

This geode— unbeknownst to him or Amethyst an old rebellion tool intended to aid in luring unsuspecting Gems into traps with its irresistible song— continues chiming for hours and hours, its piercing melody calling out to the lonely night in perpetual harmony.

And far, far in the distance… hundreds of miles away… something lurking within the folds of the inky darkness calls back:

Mine.

[kurokawaia]

❛ TRAVEL ❜ - 03?

PostWar!Uchiha Sasuke x Fem!Reader

WC; 1k+ ! | TW/CW; fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is a wife, reader is sasukes wife, you and sasuke have 3 kids, fluffy, domestic life with sasuke! advised that you read the first 2 part for this to make sense!

���·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: Hey bby ! can you please do a sasuke one shot ? Like him with his wife and kids and how he acts around them , you have mentioned before that you think he would have 3 kids and you made the first one a boy in your "travel 2" ( my baby Itachi 🥹) and honestly i can't stop thinking about that , like what do you think their genders would be? Like 3 boys or two boys and one girl ? What is your thoughts ? Overall it is fluffy but if you wanna add some of the problems that could be in their lives and sasuke and his wife helping them with it , i don't mind too . It's like a mix between a one shot and headcanon but overall it's a one shot ( i am sorry, i am very bad at describing anything 😔) Have a nice day 💗😌 - ANON

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

 you two def have three kids, and Itachi is the oldest! The middle child is Takashi, whose a boy as well. The youngest, Nanao (whose the only girl out of these two boys!) is only five! She's quite soft spoken and timid, Sasuke is almost glad that she is like that. Itachi and Takashi already act like Sasuke and Sasuke's older brother, so it's a relief to find out that his daughter is very gentle compared to her brothers. 

Nanao is a big daddy's girl! Sasuke always scolds Takashi and Itachi whenever they tease her or make tears well up in her eyes. When she does get sad, it's not you she runs to (even if you're the closer one!) she always goes to her Daddy! Calling out how her brothers are being mean to her, although... most of the time it's just Takashi... Itachi minds his own business 99% of the time. 

Sasuke is often up before everyone else, going through his own quiet morning routine. But as the kids start to wake up, he makes a point to greet them individually. If Itachi wakes up early, Sasuke invites him to spar in the yard. For Takashi, Sasuke avoid any attempt he tries to make to have his father train him (Takashi is seven by the way, way to young in this generation to be teaching him any Jutsu!)

For my favourite part >.< every time Nanao wakes up, she will always find her Daddy and run and give him a big big big hug! Sasuke looks forward to that hug every morning he is home from a mission. Sasuke looks tough but he loves it when his kids give him affection and he loves giving it back.

This is what I don't like about the Manga/anime, they portray Sasuke to be so confused about how to act around his own kid and his wife! but in my opinion he'd be home a lot more if he really missed his kids! he would not abandon his wife to go on LONG missions until his is like 9, he wants his child to know that he's there :(

how sasuke acts around his wife and kids? well, personally, sasuke wouldn't act like how he does in the manga or anime, he will be a lot more attentive to you than what the show depicts. Pressing soft kisses to your forehead, gentle pecks on your lips, hugging you!! this is all in private of course, but in public, he loves to give you that gentle warm kiss to your forehead. 

He loves to be around you, if you want me to be honest I think that he would sort of follow you around. You're doing dishes? he's there watching you, talking to you. It's the same with any chore you do! He will always want to be around you.

Sasuke has a surprisingly dry sense of humour that he only shows around you and the kids. If one of the kids tells a joke, he'll usually respond with something deadpan that makes them laugh twice as hard. Sometimes, he'll tease you lightly, like pretending to forget things just to watch you get adorably flustered, only to smirk and admit he was joking.

He loves flustering you! (which is his favourite activity apart from spending time with his family)

Sasuke is attuned to when you're feeling overwhelmed or tired, and he'll immediately step in. He'll take the kids out to train, practice jutsu, or even just explore around Konoha, all so you can rest. When you thank him later, he'll just shrug and say it's no big deal, but you know he enjoys every second of that time with them.

When the kids were babies, Sasuke was honestly baffled by the whole parenting thing. He'd look at you in total confusion whenever one of them cried, holding them awkwardly and asking, "What do I do, love?" Now that they're older, he has his moments of confusion too, like when Nanao asks him about something random, like her hair or clothes, and he'll turn to you with a slightly helpless look. He tries, but some things are just beyond him.

Sasuke doesn't cook much, but he'll occasionally join you in the kitchen, especially if it means spending more time together. He's surprisingly good at simple tasks, like chopping vegetables or seasoning food, but it's more about the time with you than the meal itself. When one of the kids helps out, he'll encourage them, and if they mess up, he reassures them with a quiet, "It's fine—try again."

Now onto some family problems that they face!

Itachi is the oldest out of the three so he feels like he has a big weight on his shoulder's, responsibility for looking after his siblings, to set a good example and lots of expectations, expectations that are upon him for being an 'Uchiha'

Sasuke notices that his sone pushes himself too far. He makes sure to remind his son that he doesn't have to be perfect, that he doesn't need to compare himself to anyone (even though itachi is the top of his class anyways). Sasuke encourages Itachi to be a kid and enjoy things because Sasuke's childhood wasn't bright, so he wishes for his son to be free.

Sasuke's second oldest son, Takashi however, is a tad bit headstrong and tres to prove himself too often, he's like, what? five years younger than Itachi and he still compares himself to his older brother despite the age difference. Takashi feels like he lives in Itachi's shadow and unfortunately, this causes some tension between them.

To fix this, Sasuke makes sure the two of them bond in a freindly way. Or, Sasuke even gives Takashi one on one training sessions, just simple ones! not too dangerous so that Takashi won't hurt himself, and to make sure you don't scold Sasuke for it.

As the three kids grow, natural sibling rivalry emerges. Itachi sometimes feels burdened by his younger brother’s attempts to surpass him, while Takashi harbour's frustration that Itachi receives praise for his abilities. Nanao, on the other hand, feels out of place at times among her older brothers.

Sometimes, Sasuke’s stoic?? (idc how to describe it lmao, it'll come to be i swear), more restrained approach to parenting creates slight tension with his wife, who may wish he’d be a bit more expressive or open with their kids. They work through disagreements privately to avoid confusing the children. Sasuke's trying his best :(

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

taglist :: @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

@sugu-love @why-are-you-still-awake

i hope this is okay!! please send in my inbox for more if you'd like to Anon!! i love writing for sasuke!

[florwons]

‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt — nishimura riki ‧ ˚₊‧

synopsis you hated niki. he hated you. despite your ongoing rivalry, your recent arm injury seems to have had an unexpected effect on your so-called enemy. rather than making fun of your injury, he's shown a surprising twist of kindness by wanting to draw on your cast instead.

pairing rival!niki x fem!reader genre fluff, e2ls, hs au !

warnings profanity, injury, just niki and reader being a bickering mess !! typical rival things

featuring danielle newjeans jungwon enhypen wc 2303 !

note first enha work !! first time on blr and i think i’m getting a hang of it.. took too much time figuring out everything though 😵‍💫. i guess this happens when you’re bored (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) anyhow, i just think niki fits e2ls !! also i think he fits this cute idea i was thinking about so why not combine the two ?? might also create a part 2 to this !!

— read part 2 here !

"Wow, two whole months for it to heal? I’m sure it hurt, didn’t it?" Danielle exclaimed, her expression filled with shock as she glanced from your cast to your face. The two of you were seated next to each other during your first period, giving her a chance to closely examine your injury.

"Yeah," you replied with a touch of sarcasm, a sigh escaping your lips as you gazed at the plain, white cast encasing your arm. "Just the sort of thing that can happen when you take up a part-time job at a convenience store. But, my doctor assured me it's not too serious, so this arm should be back to its usual self soon!" You lightly tapped your arm with your free hand, showing her that you’re completely fine.

"Well, it's still frustrating to have to let it heal for that long," she pouted, receiving a light chuckle from you. Extending your uninjured arm, you gently held her hand, offering her a soft smile. "Don't worry, Danielle. Two months will fly by."

You were truly grateful for a friend like Danielle, who consistently showed concern for your well-being. It made you wonder why your life couldn't be filled with people like her instead of people like him. But no, the universe had different plans and had given you Niki, your classmate, or rather your enemy.

This rivalry with Niki had its roots all the way back to elementary school, and due to both of your stubbornness, it had been brought into your high school years. Poor Danielle found herself caught in this mess, being friends with both of you. You did feel bad for involving her, but the blame fell largely on Niki, who seemed to exist solely to get under your skin.

"Does... you-know-who... know about your injury? You guys walk to and from here together," Danielle hesitated, bringing up him in the conversation cautiously. You shook your head and replied, "No, not as far as I know. I actually left a bit early today—oh no."

Your hand instinctively moved to your forehead, the beginnings of a headache forming from the thought. Danielle let out a small gasp, concern evident in her expression. "What's wrong, YN? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine—wait, no, I'm not!"

"Why? What's the matter?"

"It's Niki! I just remembered that he's probably going to make fun of my injury for the entire two months." You slumped in your chair, already envisioning the scenarios in your mind. "That asshole."

“You actually got me worried!”

"Sorry, but this is something you should be worried about! Niki's constant teasing might be the end of me!"

"YN, you'll handle it. You both argue every day, anyway," Danielle said with a dismissive tone, not fully grasping how serious the issue felt to you. After all, Niki having another reason to mock you during class was far from trivial.

You sighed, realizing that you really wished for your arm to heal as quickly as possible.

In what seemed like no time at all, the second period arrived—a bit faster than usual. You hurried into the classroom, aiming to get into your seat promptly. But there was no use of that if he’s your seatmate! Just why couldn’t it be Danielle? You silently cursed your teacher for arranging the seating this way. More people started filling the classroom, and Niki’s unmistakable blonde hair caught your attention — he was walking your way.

His gaze fixed strangely on your arm as you withdrew it from the desk, letting it hang at your side. You deliberately avoided meeting his eyes, unwilling to deal with his presence at the moment. The scrape of his chair against the floor caught your ear, prompting you to take a deep breath. "Already pissed?" His voice carried a teasing tone, and you could practically feel the smirk in his words, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Aw, you got my routine down already?” You scoffed, placing your notebook on your desk. You were determined to shut out his annoying voice, but of course, life had other plans. "Seems like it. Just call it the Niki effect, I guess."

"Yeah, a real heartwarming effect," you replied monotonously, your attention shifting to the front of the classroom. In the corner of your eye, you could see him take out a notebook as well. You silently hoped he'd simply focus on his work and not pay attention to you, though it seemed he had different intentions.

“What’s up with your arm?” he points at your injured arm with his pencil. Now that made you wish you could snap that pencil in half. Nonetheless, you managed to maintain your composure, or at least tried to, as you responded calmly. "Oh, you know, just your typical arm-breaking experience. Nothing major—just a cozy two-month wait for it to return to normal."

"I didn't need a breakdown of your recovery process, but I suppose thank you for letting me know,” Niki remarked, adjusting his seat position. "Wouldn't expect any less from someone like you."

Holding onto your pencil, the pressure of it snapped its lead, and you clenched your teeth in frustration. "Do you ever know when to just keep your mouth shut?" you retorted, your tone edged with irritation.

"It's one of my finer qualities—maybe you should catch up," he shot back, a hint of amusement evident in his voice.

"Sure thing. Just do me a favor and stay quiet for two months, will you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "And what's in it for me?"

"Me sparing you from my rude remarks—just not like what you're doing right now."

“Can’t make any promises,” He dragged the last word, making you sigh. He smiled slightly, knowing he knew exactly how to piss you off.

The bell rang, and relief washed over you like a wave. Hastily gathering your belongings, you were so focused on getting out of the classroom that you failed to notice Niki's gaze on you. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you headed toward Danielle. Unknown to you, Niki's attention lingered, a subconscious concern for your well-being flickering in his mind.

"Niki? Niki!" Jungwon tapped him on the shoulder, causing Niki to start slightly. Wait, what was he doing just now? Before he could analyze his actions, Jungwon pulled him from his thoughts. "You seemed out of it for a bit. Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, I spaced out for a second. Let's not miss our third period, alright?" Niki hurriedly packed his things, walking alongside Jungwon, his earlier behavior still puzzling him.

Niki's earlier slip-up had him lost in thought, and it continued especially during P.E. class. His eyes were drawn to you, sitting on the bleachers with a bored expression, casually observing the movement of the others. Then, unexpectedly, you excused yourself and headed toward the nurse's office. Niki found himself continuing to watch you, his focus on you more than anything else around.

"Hey, Niki!" A familiar voice brought his attention away from you, just in time to see a ball hurtling his way. He attempted to react, but the ball had already hit his arm. Wincing, he gripped his arm, a small crowd forming around him. Mr. Kim scolded him, and Niki nodded in acknowledgment—it was his fault for not paying attention.

“Take this pass and go get an ice pack,” Mr. Kim said, already finishing up the pass for him. At first, he contemplated declining, but then he remembered that you were in the nurse's office.

This was the fastest he ever grabbed a pass. His movements were swift as he exited the gym and quickly navigated the route to the nurse's office, hoping he could arrive before you left.

He knocked on the door, and a soft voice invited him in. Stepping inside, he found you seated in one of the chairs. Your surprise was evident as you looked at him, his hand resting on his left arm—the same one you had injured. He observed as he grabbed an ice pack before making his way over to where you were sitting.

In the row of chairs, he left a space between you, taking a seat. Your voice broke the silence, teasingly suggesting, "Starting to think you're obsessed with me." Niki couldn't help but scoff lightly as he settled in.

While you weren't exactly off the mark with your comment, admitting such a thing to you was out of the question. He waved off your words with a dismissive tone, "Me? Obsessed with you? Sure, as if."

A quiet pause settled between you both, and subtle glances were exchanged. Breaking the silence, you remarked, "Seems like you're about to join me, huh?"

He looked at you with confusion etched on his face, only to glance down at his arm and yours—both injured in the same spot. Niki couldn't help but chuckle softly, acknowledging that you were right. "Well, not quite as bad as your situation."

"Shut up." Niki's laughter filled the air, and for the first time, you found his laugh endearing—a thought you quickly brushed off. You simply smiled at his boxy grin. Has his smile always been this charming?

Niki realized he had let his guard down, his throat clearing as he subtly corrected himself. He needed to maintain the distance he had always kept between you two—at least for now.

"What are you doing here?" you started to answer, but he interrupted himself, realizing his mistake. "I shouldn't have asked, I mean, look at your arm."

There was the Niki you still had so much hate for. "If I had both arms, I'd strangle you right here."

"But you can't."

"Yeah, thanks for the reminder, idiot—as if I wasn't already aware," you retorted, rising from your seat. He wouldn't be entirely honest if he didn't admit part of him wanted you to leave. It was strange, but he always felt a certain oddness when you weren't nearby. "Can't wait for you to make jokes about my injured arm at every given opportunity."

Your words sparked an idea in him, and as you turned to leave, he was already formulating a plan — his way of getting closer to you than before.

That's exactly what he did. Every chance he got to be near you, he seized it. His motives remained a mystery – was his plan to push you further away? If so, it was definitely working, as he managed to piss you off with every passing moment. Niki couldn't forget the way you clenched your teeth and let out exasperated sighs whenever he was around. He acknowledged he was being a nuisance, but was there really any other choice?

Could he just flip a switch and suddenly be friendly? That would be too suspicious, wouldn't it? Still, there was an inner push for him to say something decent for once.

And now, here he was, sitting beside you, gazing at your plain cast. Two weeks had already gone by – why hadn't anyone doodled on it yet? He hesitated before gently tapping your arm, causing you to look at him, your expression vacant. You were ready for him to bring up your arm again, almost as if you expected him to repeat his hurtful comments again.

“What? I swear if you make fun of my arm–”

"Can I draw on your cast?" He uttered the words, seemingly without a second thought, catching you completely off guard. Why this sudden change? Could he possibly be planning to write something embarrassing? Then again, your cast did look rather dull, almost too depressing to glance at. But, you still had your doubts.

“What? What if you draw something weird–”

“Come on, I’m not that terrible of a person.”

“Literally who do you think you are–”

“I’m your classmate, loser. Think I can’t be nice for once?” His words left you stunned, and you watched him retrieve a sharpie from his bag. He uncapped it, motioning for your arm to move closer to him. However, you found yourself hesitating, which prompted him to raise an eyebrow ever so slightly. "May I?" he asked.

You didn’t know what went through his head, and yours too! Before you knew it, you were extending your arm to him, watching as he concentrated on writing and drawing on your cast. He held it gently, clearly being cautious not to cause you any discomfort. You were undeniably intrigued by his actions, even though his presence was obstructing your view – not that you cared anyways.

Soon, he finished, closing the lid to his marker. The bell rang, almost as if on cue, causing him to hurry out of the classroom. It was as if the roles swapped, he was now the one rushing out quickly. His abrupt exit left you wondering – why was he so nervous? He didn’t know either, maybe he was suddenly being nice with his rival.

As you finally glanced at your cast, your eyes fell on the words he had written: "Hope you heal quickly, loser." Right beside the message was a small drawing of Shin-chan sticking his tongue out. This time you found yourself breaking into a smile, rather than being irritated.

"So you're telling me I could have been writing about your cast this whole time?" Danielle exclaims, her eyes fixed on the doodles now on your cast. She stops, examining the drawings more closely. "Hold on, isn't that Niki's handwriting?" Without giving you a chance to explain, Danielle is already teasing you mercilessly.

You knew you couldn’t argue back with her. After all, how could you explain the decision to let your rival draw on your cast? You gazed at the doodles once more, finding yourself involuntarily breaking into a small smile. Maybe, just maybe, you'd allow him to draw on your cast again.

Yeah, you were totally out of it.

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 4

Masterpost

"Okay, so like. We start with this video." Bernard says, bumping Tim's shoulder lightly. Huddling over a laptop together is a familiar experience; before they actually started dating they both regularly used laptop videos as an excuse to get close. It's a memory that Tim sort of cringes at, because now it seems so silly to be scared of Bernard not liking him back, and yet now he finds himself thinking back to those early days. The thrill of huddling together to solve a mystery is a little different from the thrill of being around your crush, but there's something there, a sort of excitement in questions yet to be answered.

"All right, hit me." And as Tim leans into Bernard a little harder, his boyfriend presses play.

The video is definitely weird. That much is immediately obvious. It seems to be a slideshow of pictures, complete with audio, but the pictures just seem off in a way that Tim can't describe and the audio is - it's a little sticky, but that is definitely Space Oddity, only it sounds kind of wrong like somebody's playing certain notes off key.

"Oh, that is definitely a Caesar cipher, huh?" Tim mutters. There's a line of text written beneath every photo in the little slideshow, but they're all garbled nonsense - it would seem entirely random, but Tim can already see a touch of pattern, some of the letters definitely appearing more common than others.

"Spy phase, huh?" Bernard teases. "I should've known you would already be on this stuff."

Tim grins and does his best to pretend he's not blushing. He's never been more grateful for his tendency to go overboard with his interests. The last thing he needs right now is Bernard asking questions about why he knows so much about code-breaking. Sure, he wants desperately to tell him all about Red Robin, but it's complicated with the rest of the family being implicated in your own identity.

The video continues in the same line for the whole duration of the song, then abruptly cuts off the second the last note of the song plays.

"Well, my first thought is that it seems kind of basic." Tim offers, at Bernard's expectant look.

"Right? Like when I first watched it I was kind of like what's the hype even about? But like, every video follows this general format, but the gradient of apparent code just keeps increasing, and it's like. What if there's more here and nobody ever realized they needed to look for it?"

"Okay well, the text has already been deciphered, right? So what does it say, and how'd they decode it."

"Here," Bernard switches tabs, to a document with screenshots of the various images. The first image was a simple photograph of a man, with the translated text reading Jonathan, January Thirteenth. The next photo, which was of an empty street, dusted with snow, read Hawthorn Way, Johnny's birthday. The rest of the photos followed in the same line. Simple labels describing who or what the photo showed and when they had been taken. None of the information seemed odd or suspicious, just the kind of photos that a family might take.

"Okay, it's a Caesar cipher, but each time the alphabet is being shifted a different amount."

"Yeah. And I already tried writing down the amounts in order to see if that meant anything but like.... No luck." Bernard gestures to his notes, where there is indeed a long number sequence.

"Okay, but how'd you solve it? Did anybody look for a clue to imply the shift or did they just brute force it?"

"I mean, there's literally websites that will run it for you, so I think people just did that." Tim hums, tapping his pen against his ear. The number sequence Bernard had shown him -

"None of the shifts are greater than eleven." Tim says. Bernard blinks, and glances back over his list.

"Huh. You're right, but what does that mean?"

"Means we need to figure out what's eleven." Tim reaches out and switches back the video and starts it again. The music still seems weird to him. He's no expert musician by any means, but he did take piano lessons for a bit when he was little, and more than that, he trusts his instincts. "There's only seven notes in a scale so it's not that..."

"A scale? Do you think there's something in the music? I mean other than it just being creepy?" Tim stares at Bernard.

"Bernard, you literally told me that you think it's all been more intentional than anyone realized. If that's true then the music definitely means something."

"Huh. Yeah, that is. Oh, we definitely needed new eyes on this, huh?" Bernard's huffs, then leans into Tim. "Okay well some the notes in the song are just straight up rank so maybe it's something to do with that?"

Tim hits play on the video again, focusing on the music. Six seconds in, a note hits, sounding very off.

"See?" Bernard says hitting pause. "It does that sometimes. Just plays a wrong note. I thought it was just to fuck with us, make us on edge, but maybe it means something?"

"We need the sheet music on this."

"Yeah? Do you know how to transcribe it?"

"Not reliably enough. But I know how to find someone who can."

"Babe, you're doing it again." Bernard laughs. "That could not have sounded more like Mafia energy if you tried."

"Oh my god, shut up."

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄

summary | both the miller brothers had a thing for you and you had a thing for them. they give you an ultimatum and you don't like that. so, instead of one, you choose both. [9k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader x tommy miller

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, age gap (sort of, it's not specificed by tommy & joel are late 40s/early 50s and reader is labebled as younger) bar owner!joel, bartender!tommy, 3somes, flirting, soft!joel (in the beginning), tommy is a little bit of an asshole, oral ( f & m receiving) unprotected piv, aftercare, joel is selfish

author’s note | joel and tommy have no interaction together in this, at least to that extent. so heed the tags and don't read if you don't like, xo.

“Actin’ like you ain’t never gripped a damn bottle in your life,” Tommy grumbles over your shoulder, fingers wrapping around your own until you have a secure hold on the neck, “tight–alright?”

Your lips pull together tensely, forcing down the urge to roll your eyes as he guides your hand through the motions as you fancily flip the bottle upside down to pour out the liquid into the glasses on the counter in quick, careful precision as you filled each one to a certain amount before moving onto the next, but somehow keeping up the swift pace Tommy was asking for.

Or, really, demanding.

He nods quietly behind you, staring back to admire his handiwork, knowing most of that was his own doing and his ability to perfect his showmanship over the past several years of heading the bar under his brother Joel, who owned the bar. 

Your relationship with Tommy was…tricky, but Joel—that was an entirely different mess.

He passes the shot off to a few waiting customers enjoying the show, and you have half the mind to think that Tommy is getting off on the fact that you’re openly embarrassing yourself in front of the patrons, but really, he’s just an asshole.

Though, you’ve come to understand that was how Tommy showed his fondness and if he was being overly nice than you’d know something was up—hell would freeze over, pigs would fucking fly, and you might actually accept his advances for once. Not today. Not with him breathing down your neck as he motioned for you to repeat the process on your own.

You take a deep breath, lining up the shot glasses uniformly and turn your wrist to grip the neck of the bottle, finding Tommy in your peripheral as he nods, “Tighter,” He mumbles, “don’t need that thing slippin’ out of your hand mid-rush and Joel chewin’ my ass out over a wasted bottle of bourbon.”

“I dunno,” You tease playfully—

Tommy surges forward and tightens your grip around the bottle.

“Think you’d know a thing or two about a good grip but goddamn.”

“If you keep this up I’m talking to Joel,” You threaten lightly, an airiness to your voice that shouldn’t feel as menacing as it does, but Tommy backs off slightly, grumbling something under his breath, “—good boy.”

Tommy rolls his eyes in annoyance, rolling his shoulder backwards as he rests his hands against his hips. You continue, swinging the bottle around less clumsily than before and pouring out the shots in quick succession—no mess, no spill. It was perfect.

Tommy scratches at his jaw, slightly dejected now as you turn back to look at him.

“What’s next?” You ask with a flashy smile, shoving the bottle square into the middle of his chest.

-

Joel catches you near the end of that day, shoving a few things away in your assigned locker, thick fingers curling around the open door, subtle smiles gracing his features as he greets you with a nod.

“It’s been a few months,” Joel reminds you, thinking back briefly on how much has changed for you in such a short time—you had friends, a solid job, a place to live, and two boys who you couldn’t help but fawn over—it was natural luck you ended up in this position, “how you holdin’ up?”

And while Joel wasn’t as forward as Tommy in his attraction, you sense it in the way he looks and speaks to you in private, no watchful eyes to spy on you. Besides, Joel seemed private and reserved, so it wasn’t that odd that he felt comfortable approaching you in private.

“Okay, I think.” You answer truthfully, playing with the curled paper of the calendar taped to the inside of your locker, your own fingers curling underneath Joel’s own, pointer fingers touching but unmoving, you glance at him hesitantly before averting your eyes to somewhere beyond him, following the eyeline of the bar as you watched Tommy wipe down the front of the bar.

“Tommy ain’t givin’ you anymore trouble?” He asks, “I know he’s technically your boss and all—”

“And you aren’t?” You chide playfully, eyebrow raised slightly as you pocket your phone and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “And yeah, but…no more than usual. I can handle Tommy just fine, you know?”

“I know, I know,” He laughs softly, hand moving away from the locker to pat at your shoulder, squeezing gently at your bicep—touches were so familiar with Joel. A hand on your back, a subtle touch of his fingers in the dip of your neck. He had respected your space in the beginning, even with how witfully you charmed him with ease. You enjoyed touch, viewed it as a language of love and didn’t mind when Tommy initiated it either. Often finding your own subconscious movements to cling to and touch the people you conversed with or felt comfortable around—he doesn’t mean much by it, you think, “but, he does still have to listen to me. I am his boss.”

“I pulled that card on him today, actually,” You admit, hand rising to rub at his elbow comfortingly, “he simmered down pretty quick.”

Joel sees the hold you have over his brother, both with your personality and general attraction Tommy felt with—well, most of the people Joel hired to work under him. But, Tommy is teasing with you, testy, and he’s not like that with the others. He’s comfortable enough that he can come off like an asshole knowing you won’t take it personally.

Joel chuckles, glancing back over his shoulder at Tommy before turning back toward you and rubbing a comforting finger under your chin, “Good girl.” He comments sweetly, it has your stomach doing flips no matter the context. It was a normal sort of endearment from Joel, but given the context, it feels like a praise rather than an outright compliment.

You smile shyly and shove his hand away.

“You know, we’re cooking out this weekend if you wanna swing by,” Joel offers, “it’s, uh—for Sarah.”

Sarah. You didn’t know much about her aside from the fact that she died young, around thirteen—it’s been close to twenty years now, but Joel still celebrates her birthday.

You nod half-heartedly, “Yeah I’ll—I’ll try to swing by.”

Joel smiles warmly, before pointing an accusatory finger at his brother across the bar, “Keep his ass in check, alright?”

You smirk, an underlying feeling of…something, feeling dizzy from how openly Joel adored you when it was just the two of you, “Always.”

-

Austin heat is sticky and humid, clinging to the bare skin of your legs exposed by the short summer dress you wore, strappy and flowy and—while it wasn’t an unusual sight to the Miller boys, they didn’t see it as often as they liked. So, of course, they gawk.

You shove the case of beers into Joel’s waiting grip, a subtle wink as he acknowledges your presence. Quickly crowding in by Tommy who’s already a few beers in, just by his loose nature as he slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing gently. He sips generously on the last bit of his beer before allowing the rim to hang slack between his fingers.

“Tommy,” You acknowledge graciously—there was always a slight tinge of annoyance with him, not the type that made you angry or upset, but frustrated. Whether just plain frustration or sexual, you couldn’t put your finger on, “already starting the party without me?”

“Come on now,” Tommy teases, “you know it wouldn’t be a real party ‘til you got here.”

“Is anyone else showing up?” You ask curiously, leaning subconsciously into Tommy as your eyes spot Joel several feet away in the kitchen, unpacking the beers. “Tess? Bill?”

The bar was closed today. Always was. It didn’t matter what day Sarah’s birthday landed on. 

They had food, drinks, a cake—it was a real party, only missing its esteemed guest.

You’ve only seen Sarah through pictures and heard through stories told by word of mouth, but Joel has never cared about anything more in his life, not until the bar and long after Sarah’s death. He’d named the bar in her honor, a simple but beautiful nod to someone so special in his life. The Monarch.

She loved butterflies. And know, whenever you see them—it’s a little reminder of her presence.

“They can’t make it,” Joel speaks from the kitchen, his mouth downtrodden in its usual scowl, his natural resting face, “so—looks like it’s just us.”

“Can you handle that?” Tommy whispers teasingly in your ear and you elbow him gently in his side, “Hey—she’s already hittin’ me, Joel.”

“Stop pissin’ her off then,” Joel offers, “mind helping me, sweetheart?”

He nods toward that back and you nod quickly in response, but not before pressing a quick hand into Tommy’s side as you pinch him playfully and earn a pitiful shout, giant grin growing on your face as you depart and follow his older brother, giving Tommy an eyeful of your swaying hips, dress barely dipping past the bottom of your ass.

She’s a friend dammit. That was it.

But, it didn’t stop Tommy from crushing on you. Hard. Even at his grown age.

You follow Joel outside with a spark in your step, meeting him at the grill situated on his back deck as he flipped some of the cooking meat, an open beer in his left hand. 

“What did you need?” You ask curiously, noticing that he wasn’t speaking now.

“Nothin’,” He admits, “just like having you around.”

You smile softly, wrapping your arms around his bicep, feeling the muscle flex under your touch instinctively, his head turning to glance at you. He huffs out a soft laugh through his nose before returning his attention to the open grill, meticulously flipping the meat.

“Think if I kiss up enough to the boss he’ll give me the day off tomorrow?” You ask curiously, a hint of mischief gracing your tone as you train your eyes where he was looking, even if his gaze flicks toward you for a brief moment.

“Depends.” Joel responds gruffly, setting down the utensil to close the lid of the grill.

You huff a laugh at his ease to respond to your subtle attempts at flirting, completely harmless, but the unspoken tension lingered like a constant. 

“On?”

“If you’re being’ literal or not,” Joel offers and it sends a tingle down the base of your spine, his knuckles brushing against your hip from where you’re hanging off of his arm, “cause that can be arranged.”

There’s a brief moment where you think he’s being serious—and in Joel’s mind, he is. But, the slight widening of your eyes as the words leave his mouth have him worried, like maybe he read into this wrong.

He smirks, “I’m kiddin, sweetheart. Long as you can find someone to cover your shift—“

You interrupt him abruptly, calling out to his brother.

“Tommy!“ You half-shout over Joel’s shoulder, causing him to wince and chuckle at the suddenness of it.

Tommy’s trying to pretend like he hasn’t been staring this entire time from across the kitchen, eyes locked on your figure as you draped yourself over his brother, face lighting as you talked and the subtle touches that should be him—at least, he wished it was him.

He clears his throat and heads toward the back door, head popping out before the rest of his body, “Y’all need somethin?”

“Can you cover my shift tomorrow?” You ask, a saccharine smile and a look that Tommy fell for every time, finding you hard parted from Joel now, he notices how your hands smooth out the dress that barely covers your thighs. “Please?”

“Is this what you two are doing now?” Tommy asks, now fully in view as he closes the sliding glass door behind him, “Plottin’ against me—you can’t give her special treatment, you know—“

He points an accusatory finger your way that you swat away, both of your eyes locked on Joel who seems less than interested as he sips on his beer.

“She’s gotta find someone to cover her shift,” Joel explains, “same as everyone else.”

Tommy calls bullshit, knowing Joel would figure it out himself or cover for you—it wasn’t like you did this often, but Tommy was more than aware of all the times he came to your rescue, almost like you were using it against him. A ploy. A devious plan to get under his skin.

He knew Joel liked you—but dammit, he did too.

And even in his steadfast attempt to deny you, you reach out and grab his hand, uncurling yourself from Joel as you approach him—sad eyes and a fake pout.

“Stop that—“ Tommy warns, his voice soft and anything but demanding, but you only lean in closer, and as strong of the man Tommy thinks he is, he breaks, “—god, Fine. I’ll cover your shift.”

You smile wide, right on the edge of celebrating before Tommy is snuffing the joy out.

“On one condition—“ Tommy holds up a finger, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing there was always some sort of but coming with anything Tommy agreed to, “remember that date you flaked out on?”

It was one time—within the first week of you working at a bar. Tommy didn’t waste any time and given your eagerness to try new things, you didn’t shut him down.

But, you psych yourself out and cancel.

Tommy’s always remained slightly jaded by the ordeal and part of that has contributed to your hot and cold relationship and willingness to tease each other but still have no restraints in your frustration toward one another.

“Hey—that’s not,” Fair dies on your tongue, his shoulders shrugged in a firm response, “—fine, yes. I do.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows in obvious question.

Date?

You scrunch your nose in annoyance but quickly relent, “Okay—but I’m picking the place this time. No fucking bars, Tommy.”

Joel listens to the conversation with a scowl, completely unassuming since it was his usual state of emotion.

Tommy holds his hands up in defeat, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Glad y’all got that settled,” Joel interjects with a tone that pulls your attention back to him, “if you’re done flirtin’ with each other I need some help.”

You and Tommy appease Joel quickly, helping him with the food and when you’re finally through dinner, spending a quiet moment around the cake. You don’t sing or anything—Joel hates it. But, he does light a candle and blows it out, signifying another year of her absence.

There’s a quiet moment with Joel toward the end of the night—Tommy is off somewhere in the backyard, presumably cleaning up the grill for he and Joel’s shared space. They were both unmarried and found that living together and splitting the pay was easier than anything else.

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” Joel tells you, slipping the dirty dishes from your hands as he discards them in the sink, “we’ll handle it.”

“You sure?” It felt like the least you could do.

Joel nods, shrugging as he sets his half-drank beer bottle on the counter—he’d lost track of which one it was. Enough that he feels a faint buzz in his system as he thoughts run and he admires your curious face as you tilt your head, wondering why he seemed so…lost.

But, really—it was just that kind of day. It was never good for him, as much as he tried to act like it was. Yet somehow, with you here, he feels more at ease.

“What?” You ask curiously, a playfulness to your tone. “Keep starin’ and I might just have to give you those kisses, Joel.”

And really, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Joel gradually moves closer, looking back briefly over his shoulder at Tommy.

He smirks slightly as he turns back to you, catching that soft, familiar smile on your face.

“Don’t think he’d be too happy about that.” Joel tells you, playing with a bracelet clasped around your wrist, his front nearly pressed against your own, so close you could reach out and slip your hands under his flannel, touch the bare skin and finally find out what those older women at the bar were talking about—Joel didn’t get around, but he wasn’t a stranger to a casual hook-up.

“Maybe I want to,” Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “what does Tommy have to do with that?”

“Sweetheart,” Joel breathes and you can’t resist, slipping a few trailing fingers under his shirt, which he quickly grabs with his own hand, tightening around your wrist, “I’m your boss, I can’t.”

The buzz of alcohol impedes you both, smart decision making out the window now.

“Like you don’t already give me special treatment,” You reply flippantly, teasing his obvious weakness, “....Joel.”

You.

Joel kisses you suddenly—you’re only half-expecting it as his large hand rises to cup your face, the other locked firmly around your wrist and he presses his lips firmly against your own.

He tastes like beer and the sweetness of frosting as you lick into his mouth, the hand not held tight in his grip finding its way into the front of his shirt, bunched into the fabric as you sigh into his mouth, the kiss quickly divulging into a battle of who could hold purchase on more of one another, hands exploring as Joel hands find their way over the back of your dress, the tips of his fingers grazing bareskin as he grabs and squeezes your ass, your teeth grazing against his bottom lip as you pull away suddenly, but not by your own doing.

It was Joel, his face flush from the alcohol in his system but also the intensity of the situation. There’s so much unspoken there and both of you want to speak and Joel nearly does before Tommy is shattering the moment, announcing his re-arrival into the house. You chew at your bottom lip thoughtfully as you glance between the two brothers, feelings and thoughts battling in your head.

Tommy was wild and unpredictable and you craved that.

Joel was practical and determined and that’s what you needed.

And selfishly, you wanted them both.

-

The conversation that happens later that night between Tommy and Joel is anything but civil.

“She agreed, Joel—it’s not like I’m forcin’ her,'' Tommy argues, “She could’ve said no and I wouldn’t care. She knows I like her, ain’t my fault she seems to like me back.”

“You’re still her boss.”

 As if he had any leverage, it pops Tommy out of his chair and toward Joel with an accusatory finger.

“And you? You’re my fuckin’ boss so how is that any better? ” Tommy asks and Joel looks away briefly in annoyance, fists curling at his side, “Think I didn’t catch you two earlier? Cut the shit, Joel.”

“This ain’t high school, Tommy,” Joel retorts, “We aren’t fighting over her.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty fuckin’ clear when you decide to make a move on her in the kitchen and then you’re standing here tellin’ me I can’t have her—how about you treat her like a normal person and let her choose, Joel.” Tommy retorts, “Or is that too damn hard for you? Not getting what you want?”

It sparks a deep fire inside Joel. Tommy too. And you really have no choice but to give them an ultimatum—besides, you wanted both. You were getting both.

-

It isn’t like they planned it, but somehow they manage to coincide and corner you at the same moment—Joel coming out of his office and Tommy rounding the door into the backroom, your frame bent over a box of bar snacks. When you look back, your eyes widen slightly.

“Shit—am I—are you firing me?” You ask, deeply concerned. You weren’t the best bartender, but you tried.

Tommy and Joel share an equally confused look.

“No—no why would you think that?” Joel asks.

You wave your hand vaguely between them both, a serious and concerned look on both of their faces. It wasn’t out of the norm for Joel, but for Tommy, it was unsettling. 

“Then, what?” You ask, only slightly annoyed. “We’re not exactly slow on customers right now—”

Another shared look, this time tense. Which one speaks first—it feels like race.

“Look, I already told Joel—” Tommy begins.

“Sweetheart, you need to know somethin’—” Joel interjects.

And it clicks quickly. Very quickly.

The shared look of frustration as they both purse their lips in a tight line, identical hands resting against their hips. This was ridiculous—the fighting, the silent arguing without actually sharing words.

“I’m not choosing.” You tell them forthright and their reaction is less than ideal, like two sad puppies who’ve just been scolded for bad behavior, but they both stay quiet and hang on your words, seeing that you weren’t finished. “If that’s what you’re expecting me to do.”

“No, that’s not—” Joel tries to argue, his voice fairly level for how distraught he seemed.

“I want you both,” You shrug, rising with the box in your grip, “so, if I can’t have that—then no.”

And you leave them with that, stewing in their own thoughts. Their gazes follow you as you walk, shoving past them gently.

“I’m not givin’ up.” Joel tells Tommy instantly, a look of defiance from his younger brother is thrown his way–Tommy was just as stubborn as Joel, if not more.

“Yeah, neither am I.”

-

Of course, you already knew how you wanted this to go.

You spoke to them both separately, promising a proper date at a specified place on a specific day and time—they wanted you and you wanted them. But, you were doing things your way.

And that is how you end up at the Miller’s brothers home again, a few weeks later, both of the men dumbfounded at how you mastered this plan. They were both wholly faithful to you, agreeing to go along with your plan to lie to the other brother so they wouldn’t get suspicious or upset, but really, you just wanted them both chasing their own tails.

They didn’t realize what was going on until they found themselves both getting ready at the same time that day, something lingering in the air that they couldn’t put their finger on until you were knocking at the door, a wide smile on your face. Joel answers, but Tommy isn’t far behind.

It’s how you end up on the couch later that night, squeezed together and eyes droning into the movie playing on the television screen, lingering touches like burns against your skin. Joel and Tommy are trying to avoid each other, but sometimes they’ll bump fingers and shoot a scowl at each other, but then you’re adjusting yourself to find another comfortable position and their attention is quickly drawn back.

Some of it is spent against Tommy, head resting against his solid chest but Joel’s hands never stray too far, a warm and comforting presence against your shoulder or thigh, a tender rub of his thumb into your sore muscles. Tommy likes to run his fingers along the shell of your ear, his chest shaking with a laugh at the movie every so often—there was little conversation happening and you blamed that on the obvious tension in the air.

When you trade Tommy’s touch for Joel, he’s ready for you.

You tend to like wrapping yourself around him, arms snug around his own like you’ve done a million times before, but you find your fingers dragging along the length of his forearm and he’s more shifty than usual, socked feet crossing and uncrossing as your touch grows, all the while Tommy’s hand firmly on your thigh, squeezing when you squirm a little too much, feet hiked up and resting in his lap. His thumb circles your ankle and rubs, a gentle massage to your bare feet as you sigh and that—that is what catches their attention.

“That feel good?” Tommy asks casually, a genuine question.

You weren’t one to complain about sore, achy feet and muscles from long shifts at the bar, but you weren’t going to turn down a nice massage or welcoming touch. You nod and Tommy smiles, allowing his deft and strong fingers to dig into the muscles of your foot, pulling another sated sigh from your lips. Joel hears the soft release of a breath from your lips and turns his head toward you, a subtle smile pulling at your lips as he stares at you more unabashed and open than usual. It’s the same look he gave you before kissing you the night of the party and you feel it, see it before it happens.

And somehow within the shared exchange, Tommy’s hand has climbed higher along your calf as he massages tenderly until he’s nearly at your apex, supple muscle pliant other his skin as he squeezes. Joel whispers something to you as he leans in, feeling the shift in the environment.

“This alright with you?” Joel asks quietly as you look over at Tommy, who despite himself looks just as eager if not more, like they weren’t completely turned off by the idea that you wanted both of them

Possibly at the same time.

“I think I should be asking you two that…” Your voice trails as Joel’s free hand slips to cup the back of your head, fingers molding with the shape of you as he tilts your head back, allowing him the lead willingly—and Tommy is there, right there at the apex of your thighs and you want is so fucking bad it pains you, physically and mentally.

“Oh, darlin’—there’s a few stories I could tell you,” Tommy offers, fingers lingering over the button of your jeans until you nod, quickly popping the thread apart and allowing his fingers to curl around the waistband of your jeans, tugging gingerly, “but that’s not important.”

Joel mouths at the line of your jaw instead of capturing your lips immediately, dragging out your suffering longer as you assist Tommy in his tug at your jeans, kicking the denim of your ankles as his large hand settles of your clothed pussy, panties damp at the center despite how hard you’ve tried to ignore the instant pleasure they’re touch gave you.

“No, no tell me.” You nod furiously, feeling Joel grins against the side of your face.

“It was a long, long time ago, sweetheart.” Joel defends, “Back in high school and college when Tommy just couldn’t go off and have his own things, always wanting everything his brother had.”

Tommy scoffs, scooting closer to you as he drapes a leg over his lap, spreading you wider for him, his hand following a slow path back and forth—all the way down to the apex of your knee before gradually back up to your pussy, throbbing underneath his touch as his fingers press into the sticky, wet fabric.

“That’s a stretch,” Tommy scoffs, “Anyways, darlin’—we used to, uh—”

Tommy doesn’t know why he feels ashamed to admit. So, Joel does it for him.

“We like to share, sometimes.” Joel explains. “I mean, I’m not in favor of sharin’ you but if that’s what you want…”

You nod furiously, the press of Tommy’s fingers grow stronger as he slips them past the side of your panties, touching the bare seam of your pussy, covered in the copious amount of sweet slick that had accumulated between your thighs.

“Oh, that’s what she wants,” Tommy surmises, a small chuckle hidden within his speech as his mouth hangs open slightly, watching yours grow wider as you gasp, his bare touch like a spark, “isn’t that right?”

You nod again, but that isn’t what he’s looking for.

“Need you to say it, sweetheart.” Joel demands, his hand squeezing at the thigh that wasn’t stretched out over Tommy’s lap, the other resting against your neck now, squeezing the muscle gently under his grip, his lips only a few millimeters from your own now. “Say you want this.”

“I do—fuck, I do,” You whimper, a single digit slipping past your entrance and into you, the stretch not quite what you’re looking for but the touch alone—from Tommy, is enough to drive you mad, “I w—want it. Both of you.”

“I think we can make that happen.” Joel agrees easily, capturing your lips in a searing kiss—heated in a way that has your stomach doing flips and your free hand gripping his grown out hair, peppered with grays but so fucking soft between your fingers.

Tommy slips in a conspicuous second finger in the midst of the heated kiss and it surprises you how good it feels, just graced by the thickness of his fingers but you need more. Want more.

There’s a subtle snarl to the way Tommy admires you so openly, his eyes dragging along the slow rise and fall of your chest and the way you cunt sucks his fingers in with greed and nothing else. He wants to taste you. 

There’s a brief look he offers as you break apart from Joel, breathless as you turn your head toward him, Joel’s following as his eyes trail toward the point where Tommy’s fingers are buried inside of you.

“Use those words,” Joel whispers against your cheek, a smirk growing on his face, “don’t be afraid.”

“Whaddya need, darlin’?” Tommy asks enticingly, removing his fingers in an anxious anticipation, wet fingers dragging along your thigh. “Gonna let me taste you?”

“Please, god—please.” You whine pathetically, watching as Tommy dicends without question, removing your panties with a swiftness that deafens the task at hand. It takes a moment as you untangle yourself from Joel to settle more central on the couch, squealing softly as Tommy manhandles your thighs over his shoulder, settled on his knees and his palms pressing flat over the tops of your thighs.

Joel settles solidly behind you after some maneuvering, a sturdiness to his chest that takes the brunt of your weight as you relax against him, his hands quickly finding their way under your shirt and pulling it up until the fabric is bunched under your skin, bare breasts on full display as he runs a gentle, testing touch over them with his palm, eyes closing at the overwhelming sensation of both of them surrounding you. You don’t even have the guise to feel shy that this was the first time they were seeing you like this–it felt normal, like this is what was supposed to happen.

Tommy floats a hot breath against your skin, kissing a line up the inside of your thigh before he speaks, “I got you, darlin’,” He assures you, “—tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

You nod shakily, looking up hesitantly at Joel over your shoulder and he can only offer a grin, though his eyes harbor something much darker. “Tell ‘em, baby.” He urges, “You want him to eat your pussy, right?”

You nod obediently and Joel grabs ahold of your chin gently, guiding your gaze back toward Tommy, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into you.

“Need your mouth, Tommy,” You beg, earning a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement from Joel against your chin, who leans in with a gentle whisper of tell him where as you exhale an even shakier breath than before, “on my pussy—please—”

Tommy snickers softly before he obliges, a slow, languid lick of his tongue through your folds as he starts, ripping a quiet gasp from your chest as your hand instantly finds his hair, overgrown like Joel’s but stark black and gelled back like usual, never a hair out of place.

That wasn’t going to be the case much longer, fingers fisting into his hair and using it as leverage, the slow licks between your lips quickly exploring inside of you, teasing dips into your hole as he chuckles a soft breath which each and every squirm you offered, all while under the intense gaze of Joel, who was clearly holding out—he wouldn’t kiss you as hard as you tried, trained on your face as you challenged his eye contact, not daring to let it go unless he physically forced you to look away. His hand still lingered against your chin but occasionally fled for a comforting touch when things got intense too quickly and you were almost teetering over the edge, but he quickly brought you back down.

And within that, you’re so blinded by pleasure to not realize that he’s instructing Tommy the entire time, only catching onto the last few commands as Tommy devours, making his own selfish noises as he groaned when you pulled a little too tight on his hair, mumbling praises of depravity and a ‘so fuckin’ sweet—always knew you were, darlin’ and the occasional, breathier ‘come on baby—use my face, fuckin’ take it.’.

Joel speaks to Tommy directly, despite keeping his eyes on you.

“Oh, you’re right there, huh?” Joel asks you goadingly, “Need more?”

You nod eagerly, despite how good Tommy’s mouth feels, he was lacking in one important aspect—you couldn’t blame him, he was a little overwhelmed with everything, as were you. But, Joel, he seemed the most-level headed and you were so fucking thankful for it.

“Want him to play with your clit, sweetheart?” He asks, “S’that what you need?”

“Ye—Yes.” You stutter, the gentle squeeze of your breast under Joel’s grip causing you to clench around Tommy’s tongue and he flicks his eyes up toward you both and there was no telling how pathetic you looked, but Tommy seemed just as equal on that playing field.

“You heard ‘er, Tommy.” Joel tells him, “give our girl what she wants.”

Our girl.

It doesn’t take long when his tongue presses against your clit, circling maddeningly until you have no other choice but to grip onto the couch and moan, the tightening, agonizing feeling in your stomach bursting at the seams as you come against his tongue. Joel captures your mouth to swallow the moan, not trying to give Tommy the satisfaction just yet while his brother greedily licked away at your pussy, cleaning up the mess you’d made, a gentle smile on your face as you finally came back down, allowing Joel to lick greedily into your mouth before you chanced a glance at Tommy, his pupils blown out in pleasure.

“Think we should move this to the bedroom?” Joel asks preemptively, a soft laughing bubbling from your chest.

“Yeah—yes, please.” You agree, but your legs feel weak, unable to bear your weight.

“I got you, baby.” Tommy assures, helping you to your feet gently, a comforting hand on your waist as he led you toward what you could assume was Joel’s room–considering he had the bigger of the two, Joel following closely behind. 

The deafening click on the door is both a promise and a warning.

This was a secret held within these walls and whatever took place could not be reversed.

You were willing to take that risk though, selfishly.

And you were sure the Miller brothers shared the same sentiment.

-

And for some reason, you didn’t think it was that important you come again. Not after the first, seeing as how they had proved their point in wanting you, nearly brought you to tears with your first orgasm and maybe—maybe you could just blow them both and it would be fine, even the playing fields and leave it at that. 

But, no. That’s not what they wanted. Or planned for.

Joel eats your pussy for fun, he doesn’t even try to make you come. You manage to convince Tommy out of his jeans early, using the fist you have wrapped in his shirt as leverage as you hover on your hands and knees, gripping his thick cock in your free hand and giving it a few slow tugs, knowing that if he was this big, there was no telling what Joel had to offer. 

He’s uncut and girthy, thick veins lining his cock as you lapped teasingly at the head, pulling the foreskin back as you took him into your mouth, a moan reverberating over his cock as Joel ate you out from behind, ass high in the air as he settled on his knees. It wasn’t an ideal position, but Joel wasn’t complaining and neither were you.

Joel had always stripped at some point, still clad in his boxers but devoid of everything else. He’s much wider than Tommy but not nearly as firm—where Tommy has a more chiseled chest and stomach, Joel carries a softness that still beckons with strength. 

“Fuck, darlin’,” Tommy sighs, “got a goddamn mouth on you, you know that?”

To some extent, you did. He knew you liked to argue at every possible opportunity, throw back witty remarks that sometimes he didn’t even have a response to but this—this is more than he could imagine. Wet, hot heat surrounded his cock in a way that could have him coming within a few strokes, but he was determined.

You nod with your mouth latched around his cock, taking him to the base until he nudges that back of your throat, trying desperately to ignore how it makes your eyes water, hearing Tommy groan deeply with the feeling of you swallowing around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” Tommy warns, “—go on, baby, pull off if you wanna.”

You shake your head defiantly, feeling Joel chuckle against your cunt from behind you.

“She’s greedy, brother,” Joel comments slyly, “You should know that.”

Tommy comes with a low groan, fingers wrapping around the arm still gripping his shirt, thumb rubbing against the skin to soothe himself and keep him anchored here, feeling like he might teleport to another goddamn dimension with how eagerly you swallow down his cum.

You pull off with a soft pop and look at Tommy, grinning proudly. He can’t even hide his adoration, chuckling behind a toothy grin as you pull away from Joel, turning in Tommy’s lap and pressing your back against his chest.

“You think I’m greedy?” You ask Joel teasingly.

“Look at you,” Joel comments snidely, though there’s a playfulness to his tone, “couldn’t settle for one of us so you’re gettin’ both—that seems pretty damn greedy to me.”

You nod mawkishly to his words, watching as he grew closer, shifting on his knees as you leaned forward slightly, feeling the gentle press of Tommy’s palm against your back, his spent and softening dick, pressed against your bare ass. He knew it wouldn’t take long, just a few minutes and he’d be even harder than before, unable to resist you.

“And if I want more?” You ask curiously.

“More what, sweetheart?”

“Well, for starters—I want your cum, Joel.” You tell him honestly, “Can you give me that?”

“Dunno, you think you deserve that?”

Tommy’s watching the exchange with an amused grin, feeling it was a well-deserved punishment to Joel with how often you and him argue this way. Joel was finally getting a taste of the medicine he so often mocked Tommy for complaining about.

“Come here.” You beckon, grabbing lazily at his wrist and pulling him toward you.

He seems hesitant at first, but he leans over you, sandwiching you between him and Tommy as you press your lips in a featherlight touch against his own.

“Kiss me.” You demand.

“What?” He asks curiously, like his brother hadn’t just come in your mouth.

And that’s exactly why–it doesn’t make your skin crawl, in fact, it only turns you on more.

“Please, Joel,” You pout, “just a little peck and then I’ll let you fuck me while Tommy has to watch–that’s what you want right? Wanna pull some claim over me while your brother can’t do anything about it, am I wrong?”

Joel kisses you so intensely it forces you back against Tommy, a small mmph leaving your mouth as Joel quickly gained the upper hand and wraps his large, rough hands under your ass and scoots you further down the bed until the back of your thighs press against the top of his and you moan as he licks into your mouth, knowing that the lingering of Tommy’s headiness touches his tongue and you bite down harshly on his bottom lip as he pulls apart for a brief, lingering moment. 

Here it comes—the questioning consent, the lingering wonders.

“I’m covered, Joel.” You assure him, “We don’t need them. I trust you both are clean.”

Assuming that Tommy was going to fuck you too—which, god, you fucking hoped.

That’s all Joel needs, nodding before he grabs ahold of his shaft, dragging the tip of his cock through you wetness, gathering it in a slow teasing trail before he presses inside slowly, watching the stretch of you around his cock. You can’t help but keep your eyes locked on the same point either, because what Joel lacked in slight girth he made up for in length, feeling the numb press of him inside of you before he was even fully sheathed.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” He says, voice strained, “that’s a tight fuckin’ fit. Think you can handle it?”

You laugh brokenly, Tommy’s hands comforting over your shoulder before they trail to your breasts, teasingly rubbing a nipple between his fingers, watching it pebble underneath his touch.

“Do you want a pat on the back or something?” You retort, “Fuck me, Joel.”

“There she is,” Tommy comments in amusement, “I knew you were in there. Give it to ‘em, darlin.”

“Shut it, Tommy,” Joel snaps, “Know what, sweetheart, I got a challenge for you.”

Joel moves his hips slowly, pulling out slowly before pushing back in even more agonizingly slower. “No touchin’, how’s that sound? Think you can handle it.”

You shake your head. Honestly, Joel could respect it.

“Fine—Tommy, hold her hands.” Joel settles and part of you expects Tommy to argue.

He doesn’t. In fact, he looks just as greedy about the idea. And he knows if you were uncomfortable with it you would speak up, because secretly—it was exactly what you wanted. Render your power and your own autonomy for a brief moment and give yourself over to them equally. Tommy holds his hands out in wait, wiggling his fingers teasingly.

You hand them over with a soft sigh, feigning annoyance. He guides them to wrap around his waist behind you, arms stretched over your head as Joel has a solid grip on the underside of your thighs, hips still moving slowly throughout, so slow that you forget he’s actually seated inside you until he snaps his hips once, twice, his resistance snapping when he sees you settle.

Tommy settled on his own knees, though sat deeper into the bed, his hands a tight, mindful presence against your wrist as you squeeze and claw at his skin as Joel pistons his hips with a ferocity that seeks vengeance, or something there of. 

“Squeeze my cock, sweetheart,” Joel goads, feeling you do just that as your eyes roll back, “yeah—don’t act like this wasn’t what you planned from the beginning.”

“Our girl’s good at that,” Tommy comments, staring down at you with a mischievous smirk, “playin’ us both—kinda like it though, I’ll admit.”

“Shut up,” You groan, “Both of you.”

You pointedly pinch at Tommy’s skin and he tilts his head in both amusement and confusion.

“I think she’s gettin’ a little upset,” Tommy acknowledges, “You don’t think it’s fair, darlin?”

You almost have the courage to reply when Joel’s thumb drags over your clit, rubbing in quick and determined circles to match the intensity of his thrusts, using his spread knees to keep your thighs wide and open for him, eyes locked on your cunt as you squeeze around him repeatedly, moaning wantonly into your bicep as you turn your head to the side.

But, Joel doesn’t appreciate that. He grabs your chin quickly, and clicks his tongue in disapproval, “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You keep those eyes on Tommy. Let him see how good I make you feel, alright?”

You pout slightly, biting harshly at your bottom lip as Joel shifts his hips slightly, but it feels earth-shattering, one hand planted into the mattress to allow for him to reach something deeper inside of you, if that was possible.

“I’m right—right,” You sigh, eyes tearing up as you looked at Tommy, clawing gently at his sides, “fuck–I’m right there, Tommy.”

Despite Joel being inside you, his name slips out. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. And he wants to give you relief but really, he’s just eager to be inside of you too. He knows the quicker Joel finishes up that he can have you, so he encourages his brother. And Joel is too desperate for his own release to argue.

“Ask him, sweetheart.” Joel notices your eagerness for approval from Tommy and plays into it, feeling the familiar feeling building in his gut as he grits his teeth.

You nod furiously in understanding, eyes trained on Tommy. “I need to—can I come, please?”

“Go on, baby.” He agrees softly, rubbing a gentle hand over your chest as he feels your body shake with your orgasm as Joel swiped a thumb over your clit before everything goes white, gasping sharply at the intensity, but you don’t have much time to recover before Joel is pulling out and allowing Tommy to assist as you sit up slightly and feel the press of Joel’s cock against your lip, the blurriness in your eyes quickly clearing as he comes in long, forceful spurts over your tongue.

You lap greedily, swallowing visibly as Joel squeezes at his cock and forces out the last few bits of cum he had to offer, rubbing the tip against your tongue as you giggled softly, kissing his cock head gently.

There’s a brief second where you think they might allow you a break, a moment to collect yourself, but Joel is staring at you with his head cocked to the side, palming his softening dick as he glances over you at his brother.

“I dunno if she’s up for it,” Joel offers, “I think that might’ve taken it out of her.”

A shame, really. But, your eyebrows furrow in defiance as you quickly shove Joel, gently and not at all enough to really move him more than a few millimeters. It causes Tommy to chuckle.

“He’s just playin’ around, baby.” Tommy comforts, “You think you can handle it?”

You nod eagerly, turning on your knees as you rise to meet him with an eager kiss, something you haven’t had the chance to do all night. Tommy kisses with more eagerness, more passion—it’s less experience than what you feel with Joel. Tommy has so much he wants to match with you; the curiosity and unity in the way you touch him. You kiss like new lovers and it feels your body with warmth, both of you laughing softly against each other’s lips.

“I can handle it.”

Tommy eyes you seriously, following your playful gaze.

“Get to the edge of the bed.”

And—oh, that’s…different. Like a switch and you can barely recognize him.

Joel and Tommy switch with a trained ease as Tommy guides you to the end of the bed, the top of the mattress pressing at your waistline and giving you easy leverage to lean against and Joel is right there, in perfect view and waiting for you. He seems softer now too, more relaxed.

You think Tommy might give you a moment but he’s already hard again and eager, sliding inside of you in one go—hard and sharp as your hands press into the mattress between Joel’s thighs, gripping the sheets tightly.

=

Tommy grips tightly at the back of your neck and pulls you upwards, pressing his face into the side of yours and speaking tensely against your skin, “Why don’t you be a good girl and give my brother a taste of what your mouth can do, huh, baby?”

You nod obediently, shivering at the way Tommy mouths at your skin greedily before forcing you back down against Joel, his hands spread out beside him, cock hard against and resting against his belly.

He’s almost positive he won’t be able to come again–not this soon, but he isn’t going to deny himself the taste of your mouth, watching as you move with eagerness to please him and Tommy. The sharp snap of Tommy’s hips makes it a little difficult and Joel wants to scold his brother’s eagerness and lack of restraint, but he knows—Joel knows how good you feel and he can’t even blame him. 

He offers a guiding hand as you swallow him down, swirling your tongue around the tip a few times, repeating the process with his hand resting gently against the side of your face, thumb rubbing tenderly at the joint in your jaw, feeling him stretch you and heightening the growing ache that will linger for a while.

“Fuck, our girl’s got such a sweet pussy, don’t she?” Joel comments snarkily, eyebrows furrowing when you take him a little too deep, “Can’t get enough of it—just like this goddamn mouth.”

You moan pathetically and Joel can’t handle it, gripping your face between his palms as he presses his lips to yours forcefully, swallowing the whine that leaves your mouth as you feel Tommy’s hands roam and tightening against your body, soft expletives leaving his mouth as he fucks into you and hand gradually arriving at your shoulder and tightening around the skin, pulling him back against your harshly.

Joel rubs his thumbs against your cheeks, eyes locked on yours, “Yeah—think you can come again, sweetheart?” A third? Not a fuckin’ chance. You shake your head weakly, ‘You can, I know you can,” And there’s Joel’s soothing voice, the one you hear so often at work, “You keep your eyes on me, alright? Nowhere else.”

“Listen to ‘em, baby.” Tommy interjects after a long bout of silence, too lost in his own head as he relishes in the squeeze of you around his cock, committing it to memory. “Gonna make sure you feel us tomorrow while you’re at work.”

Joel chuckles at that, the slow trail of Tommy’s hand as it finds your clit and begins slow circles, easing into it, “Yeah, how ‘bout that,” Joel comments teasingly, “maybe we just can’t resist ourselves and we can take turns fuckin’ you in the back office. But, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You moan sheepishly, eyes falling shut up.

Joel tsks, “Eyes on me means you keep ‘em open too, baby. Answer me.”

“Yes—yes, fuck—I would. I would.” You rush out, feeling Tommy’s pace quicken and the ache in your stomach builds and builds, tears building in your eyes as you keep them locked on Joel. 

Despite his demands his face remains gentle and you find yourself sobbing softly into his hands as Tommy snaps his hips one last time, coming inside of you with a deep, guttural groan as he tips you over the edge too. It’s too much, overly-sensitive and your muscles burning with more ache than when you started you let out another sob, falling against Joel.

“Go on, get somethin’ to clean up,” He tells Tommy over your shoulder, “I got her.”

You fall slack against him, feeling him adjust himself on the bed until you can sit properly, leaning you against his body as he hands run along your back, soft sobs wracking your body.

“Hey, you still with me?” Joel asks hesitantly. “Was it too much?”

You feel yourself start to calm under his touch, quickly shaking your head.

“Just…overwhelmed.” You admit, “Too much.”

“Too much?” Joel echoes with an endearing chuckle. 

“Yes,” You admit amusingly, “I guess I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“That’s fair,” Joel offers, gripping your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers, “this doesn’t—we don’t usually do this. We haven’t in a long time. I don’t want you to think this is something you're bound to now.”

“Like he could fire you if he wanted to,” Tommy interjects with a sly grin, somehow managing to redress amidst your talk with Joel, just a pair of dark colored briefs but it allows what just happened to settle in more deeply, “come here, darlin.”

Joel switches off, pulling his own underwear on somewhere near the other side of the bed. And you welcome the warmth of the washcloth as Tommy drags it between your legs, hissing only slightly, “I know, you’re pretty sensitive—m’sorry.” Tommy mumbles, gingerly cleaning you up, dragging the wet wash cloth along your thighs as well, tender from his and Joel’s teasing bites at your flesh. “Better?”

“Thank you.” You say softly, his free hand gripping your waist tenderly.

Joel offers up your clothes silently, eyeing his brother wearily as he bounds around the room, gathering his own clothes and re-dressing, though Joel stays in his nearly bare state of undress, briefs allowing him some modesty.

“I’m gonna check the bar,” Tommy offers, “should only take an hour or so.”

Joel nods, “Alright, just…keep me updated, I guess.”

He isn’t ushering you out either, his lingering presence by your side as you pull your underwear up your thighs, a gentle touch of reassurances as you wobble on unsteady legs. Tommy chuckles lightly at the sight, winking when he catches your disgruntled gaze, nose scrunched up in annoyance. 

“No fun without me.” Tommy jokes.

“Tommy—” Joel says steely as his brother throws his head back over his shoulder, slipping on his boots, “get the fuck out of my room.”

Tommy offers a mock salute and does just that, leaving you alone with Joel for the first time that night.

“I’m guessing the same rules apply to me?” You ask, shoving your arms through the holes in your shirt, yanking it over your head and you catch Joel shaking his head, pulling you to your feet with a hand when you finally look at him.

“I got you all to myself now,” Joel says quietly, “think I deserve to be a little selfish.”

You wince at the thought of any more sex tonight, but are thankful his hands down stray from your side when they settle there.

“Joel, I can’t—”

“Sleep here tonight,” He offers, “I’ll cook breakfast in the morning."

“I think you just want to keep to yourself all night so Tommy can’t have me, don’t you?”

Joel grins, leaning in for a gentle peck of your lips, “You’re damn right, sweetheart.”

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Shanks' Relationship Question (1)

🍶Who Wakes up first in the morning: 🍶 His S/O wakes up before he does. He likes to sleep in, but he will wake up to his S/O trying to wiggle out of their way of his arm and will hold them closer not wanting them to leave, after five minutes of cuddling will he get up and bring coffee back for him and his lover while they talk about their next adventure.

🍶Who’s the first to fall asleep at night: 🍶It all depends on how much he drinks during the day, if he drinks a lot, he should fall asleep rather fast if his lover is sitting next to him. He sleeps so much better holding his lover in his arms. A few days his lover might fall asleep before him after a few nights of parting. He will pick up his S/O and take them to their shared room and sleep a little after them after putting them to bed.

🍶What they playfully tease each other over:🍶  A lot of things he is a very playful guy himself, he will laugh about his childhood with his S/O or the recent adventure they had. He will laugh if drink spills, or they made it to a party by mistake a little early. He is one to laugh about himself a lot.  He will tease his S/O but in a way that builds their confidence.

🍶What they do when the other’s having a bad day: 🍶He does everything he can to make the day better for his S/O. He knows his S/O well enough to read the signs if they are having a bad day. He will try his best to make his S/O better on what they want. A large party with his crew if they like that sort of thing or alone time with him if that is what they want. He just appreciates time with his friends and time with his S/O with a glass of beer.

🍶How they say ‘I’m sorry after arguments:🍶  If he is wrong, he will apologize to his lover, there is no need for all the bells and whistles. He will share a sake or beer with them and apologize after a simple kiss on the temple or holding them close. He accepts simple apologies, simple sake, and beer.

🍶Which one’s more ticklish:🍶  His S/O is more ticklish than him, man is all muscles, he is only slightly under the chin, if his S/O brushes their finger under his chin, he will giggle and kiss them lightly and hold them close. He does enjoy how ticklish his S/O if they are ticklish and isn’t above tickling them and making them laugh. He loves leaving light kisses on their body if they are ticklish.

🍶Their favorite rainy day activities:🍶 He loves to snuggle and drinking with his S/O. Whatever other activities his S/O loves to do. He also might enjoy other activities in the sheets.  But parting with his S/O inside would also be enjoyable. But he isn’t one who is against dancing with S/O in the rain.

🍶How they surprise each other:🍶 He loves surprise and surprising his S/O. Whether a small romantic gift he found that reminded him of his lover or throwing a large party. His surprises are simple he likes expensive wine, a surprise adventure, an old map that leads to treasure.

🍶Their most sickening show of public affection: 🍶 Shanks isn’t shy when he is around his S/O he will have his arms draped over his S/O. He will kiss his S/O in front of people if his S/O is looking cute, hand-holding, hugging. He isn’t above all that. He will even give his S/O a piggyback ride around the island if they choose. Other Relationship Questions 1 Zoro, Ace, Nami, Law, Sanji, Kid, Sabo, Killer, Shanks, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Luffy, Robin, Usopp, Koby, King, Smoker,

[ashonheavenscloud]

five more minutes || h. jisung

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: han jisung x reader, college au, established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive, intense make out sesh, disgusting amounts of mutual simping

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 1.8K

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: tinyyy bit suggestive (this whole fic is just one really long kiss scene LMAO), one (1) hickey is given to reader

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: repost from my old instagram under starryy.chan. this is like 2 and a half years old so i’m not sure how great the writing still is but i hope you enjoy regardless! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

now playing : whisper - park jiwoo

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

If a more perfect end of your day existed, you didn’t think you wanted it.

It had been meeting under that giant oak tree on campus, just to sneak a few kisses after your last classes of the day ended. Then Jisung had dragged you to a nearly secret bakery, hidden along the outskirts of the university campus, where the store owner had offered you a small box of macarons with the chocolate cheesecake you’d shared. You’d taken them snugly in their container back to Jisung’s apartment, where the treats had been devoured over a heated and exhilarating few rounds of uno. 

You’d decided on a simple dinner: a pizza (or maybe it was two) to share over loud discussion and banter, where he relentlessly teased you and you argued playfully back. With him, the rhythm of conversation flowed effortlessly- and over every possible topic you could explore. Because it was just that easy with him, just that natural. 

And Jisung had the unique ability to make you laugh with hardly any effort. What was even better was how much you knew he attempted to bring out your smile and loud giggles simply because he loved them. He never failed to tell you that, and it always left you a flustered mess. Which, of course, he also adored.

And after way too much teasing and silly banter and lame puns just to crack a smile, Jisung pulled you onto his lap. He hugged you close, sighing in content when you let your head fall onto his chest. His heartbeat in your ear, paired with the sound of his breathing, was so calming as you binged several episodes of a favourite show. Occasionally, the boy pressed a kiss to your forehead or around the crown of your head. You, in turn, laced your fingers through his and played with his various silver rings and admired the black polish on his nails.

Yes. Yes, you barely paid any attention to the TV. And could you be blamed, when every time you peeked at Jisung, you could see the pure love shining from his eyes as he looked back at you with that beautiful smile of his?

And after what had been nearly six hours together, it became apparent that the day would have to end at some point. You had early classes, and Jisung worked at 9 am, which meant the two of you needed to momentarily part ways. Jisung drove the short fifteen minutes to your place, before pausing in front of the building. Looking out the car window into the night, you felt a sad little pang to your heart.

“You have everything?” Jisung inquired, offering you your bag. You took the thin straps in one hand, nodding slowly before looking up at him.

Describing what Jisung meant to you was always hard. You knew you loved him, but it was more than that. You felt safe with him, and when you were around him all your worries seemed to melt away. Especially late at night, you hated to leave.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” You confessed, feeling a little silly. It wasn’t like you weren’t going to see him soon. After all, you went to the same university together and texted pretty much constantly. But for some reason, tonight it was even harder to step out of the car.

Jisung must have noticed, because he gently pulled the backpack from your grasp and replaced it with his hand. He slid his fingers to fit between yours, making your heart do all sorts of acrobatics in your chest. He slowly smiled at you, allowing his other hand to rest lightly on your thigh as he leaned closer to murmur,

“Let’s make it a long one then.”

He moved in to press his lips to yours, softly taking your lips in his. You responded instantly, inhaling as you moved your mouth to the rhythm Jisung set- a leisurely pace that sent your mind spiraling at his touch. His free hand found a stray piece of your hair to tuck behind your ear as he kissed the corner of your lips, then your cheek and jawline with several more slow pecks. You sighed in absolute content, eyes closing to focus on what you were feeling- the tickle of his breath on your skin before each press of his warm lips, the occasional touch of his tongue that made you shiver, the brush of his fingers as they wound around your neck to tangle into your hair.

Here you could sense the embers sparking to life in your veins as you pulled him in for another kiss. This one was firmer, more needy than before; you sucked on his bottom lip, hearing a low hum from his throat as he tugged lightly at your hair, bringing your face as close as possible to him. “I love you,” he whispered, and then again and again with every added press. Butterflies flew up your throat; his air was your only air- and the only air you felt you’d ever need or want again. 

Kissing Jisung was exhilarating. Like a drop on a rollercoaster played over and over; a stutter of your heart felt in the best kind of way.

Your fingertips landed lightly on his shoulder, before slowly bunching the fabric of his blue sweater. His kisses remained heated but came along slower; they savoured yours, each methodical roll of his tongue purposeful. He knew the best ways to rile you up- and luckily you knew his weaknesses, too. You allowed your hand to drop and brush along his forearm, dragging your fingers up his arm and around his neck. You felt him shiver at the same time you did, as his hand released yours to grasp your waist. In one swift motion Jisung pulled you over the seat to tumble onto his lap as his lips continued their abuse on your own. You responded with equal enthusiasm as you found a tight grasp on his dark locks and pulled harshly. He grunted and urged you closer, kissing you ravenously- you heard him pant out, “Y/n-”

You became acutely aware of the warmth of his thighs underneath you, the firm muscles of his chest pressed to yours, and every touch of his skin on yours. His teeth nibbling your bottom lip was more than enough to drive you near insanity, and his firm grip sliding over your hips did nothing to help that. You wanted absolutely no space between the two of you, nothing but him and you stuck together like glue. And it seemed Jisung had the same idea, as he wriggled his arms out of the sleeves of his sweater, the sleeveless white tee underneath already precarious over his shoulders. Your fingertips traced over his arms again- this time, you could feel the burning heat of his skin, the flexing of his biceps as his hold on your waist tightened, his breathing coming out unsteady. 

Through the fuzziness of your mind, you felt words you didn’t mean come from your parted lips. “Shouldn’t- shouldn’t we go?”

“No-” Jisung managed, kissing you like he might never have the chance again. His kisses trailed south, making you gasp as he found your throat and quickened his pace over your skin. And between each peck: “Five- more- minutes.”

As if you hadn’t been hoping he’d say that.

And any last whisper of a thought to go was buried once his lips found its place right under the curve of your jawline, a sensitive spot only Jisung knew about. You gasped as his teeth nipped at your skin, shooting fire through your veins as it left a mark. His hands gently rocked your hips over his, and you stuttered out a whine. Jisung’s murmurs- words completely  lost in your hazy state- were breathy and low, making you shiver as the warmth of his breath tickled your skin before his lips made contact along your neck again. Feather kisses fluttered across your collarbone, accompanied by his hands winding around your neck, thumb absentmindedly brushing your jawline. 

His words were whispered louder this time, and you finally heard them clearly. “ Let’s lose time, Princess.” He breathed as his lips touched your ear, and goosebumps erupted over your skin. They trailed along your jaw, before your mouths were locked again, and his words disappeared in favour of sloppy kisses.

Your mouth was captive to his, and content to remain so. His hands ran up and down your sides, fingers teasing the hem of your hoodie to skim his fingertips over your burning skin. It sent shivers across your body, and a soft breathy whine left your lips as your fingers found purchase in his locks again. Your brain was a jumbled mess, just every cell of your existence intent on Jisung, whose mouth worked wonders as he slid his tongue along your bottom lip, before diving in again.

You swore you could have spent hours just kissing him, bodies pressed together, air a distant and seemingly inessential thing at the moment. His hands teased you under your sweatshirt, while his lips continued their breathtaking work with yours. You felt on fire, heat simmering over every inch of your skin and burning where his lips touched you. At last, some sense seemed to come back to the both of you, and Jisung’s kisses slowed to softer, slower movements.

“Princess?” He murmured against your lips at last, and you knew that it really was time for the two of you to go.

You pulled away, breathing heavily as your eyes refocused onto Jisung in front of you. He was also panting, eyes looking back at you. For a minute you were both still; then Jisung’s hands dropped to find yours, fingers tangling between your own.

“Did you know I love you?” He whispered- like it was a promise, a secret  just for the two of you. And it only mattered that you knew it.

You ducked your head to plant a soft kiss to his swollen lips, feeling him grin into the kiss when you did. You lingered close when you leaned back, noses nearly touching, his breath tickling your face. “I think you’ve told me.”

His eyes flickered to yours, and the adoration in them made your breath catch. 

“I love you, Ji.” You whispered, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. You watched him slowly smile- the kind of smile that had you feeling something far beyond happy- before resting your head on his shoulder.

His arms wound around your waist, fingertips gently drawing circles over your back. It was silent and peaceful for a moment before Jisung spoke again.

“We really should go-”

You shushed him with a quick kiss before collapsing against his chest again. “Five more minutes.”

Jisung laughed softly, and when his grip on you tightened and his head fell against yours, you knew you’d won him over.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[evereverest2]

Afraid — Terzomega

~part 6 of the Little Monsters series~

3.4k words ~ smut

Omega returns to the cardinal's quarters.

i think this is the longest part yet. well. hope you like it :3 posting slightly early bc who gives a damn ! hopefully i don’t get swamped by school and finish the next part in a timely manner hehe

[parts]: one | previous | next

—

Omega found himself outside the cardinal’s quarters once again. He had been there for a number of minutes, hesitating. Wringing his hands. Scratching his neck. Thinking.

He was inclined to trust that Terzo would keep their deal and be perfectly sober when he walked through that door. What made him hesitate, though, was how he should act. Taking out his frustration and hatred on a drunk man seemed less wrong than doing it on a sober one. Terzo’s expectations, if he should not be so violent, if he should give the human mercy. Sure, it was their old deal, but to Omega, it felt as if everything had changed. Their kiss in the garden had made it change.  

Omega did not hate Terzo anymore. And it terrified him.

He cast his thoughts aside, his body letting him know how inconvenienced it was waiting for his mind to pick up the pace. It was just sex, after all. Simple, carnal sex. That was their agreement, and that was all they would do.

Omega gave one last glance around him before lightly knocking and stepping inside.

Terzo looked up. He was sitting on his couch, writing something in a book, but as Omega entered, he cast it aside and stood.

“Hello, Omega ghoul. You finally show up.” Terzo smiled, clearly excited.

Omega nodded. He looked around the room as if he had never seen it before, still feeling nerves bubbling in his stomach. 

What was wrong with him?

Terzo did not miss a beat, though. He crossed the room to stand in front of Omega. He reached up for his head, which Omega obliged, leaning down for them to meet in a kiss. He was suddenly thrust into Terzo’s feelings. Arousal. Desire. Impatience. 

All Omega felt was hesitance.

Terzo jumped up, and Omega caught him by instinct. He was hoisted high in the air, legs wrapped around his waist, with Omega looking up into their embrace. Terzo held his face, gently feeling the contours of his jaw and cheeks, humming against his lips.

Omega walked slowly, moving to sit on Terzo’s bed. Terzo easily settled into his lap as if he belonged there, kissing with ferocity as Omega’s hands settled around his hips. Terzo’s hands roamed his body— over his shoulders, his chest, diving down to grasp his bulge. He rubbed it harshly, grinding down to shallowly hump his lap. Omega growled lightly in stimulation. 

He undid Omega’s belt, unzipped his pants, now palming his underwear. It drove him wild with need, not enough friction. Omega gritted his teeth, his kissing becoming stilted as a result.

Terzo was teasing him. Taking his sweet time to satisfy him. And any other day, Omega would punish that. Today, though, things were different. He wanted to be gentle. To, for once, allow the cardinal a night where his body was not destroyed by a savage ghoul. There was no resentment. There was no wrath. Only the perplexing state of their affair in which Omega was too frightened to sort out in his mind.

Terzo pulled away, tilting his head mischievously. “Are you pissy, little kitty?”

Omega glared with carnage in his eyes. “No.”

“Your tail begs to differ.”

Indeed, it was swishing back and forth in frustration. Omega stilled it.

Terzo yanked down his underwear, letting his large, purple cock free with a slight bounce. They stared at one another, Terzo smirking, Omega glowering. Slowly, ever so slowly, Terzo wrapped one finger at a time around his shaft, and once his hand was firmly grasping him, he dug into just the tip with his thumb.

Omega clenched his fists, willing himself to be compliant, unmoving. Their eyes were still locked in a stare. He was close to snapping. No, he must hold back. Be a good ghoul. Let him have his way tonight.

“Okay, what is deal?” Terzo suddenly let go, huffing, his expression falling into that of disappointment. 

Omega, confused, mumbled, “What?”

“You do not ravage me as a ghoul should. You sit there and let me tease you. Why?”

“I was…” Omega looked away, somewhat embarrassed. “I was trying to be nice.”

“You are not nice; you are mi mostriciatto. You hurt me.”

“I don’t have to hurt you.”

“I want you to hurt me! It is sexy, ghoul!” Terzo said, exasperated.

“I don't have to be an asshole when we have sex.”

“But you are an asshole!”

Omega’s brow furrowed, and he frowned. He instantly felt defensive. “No.”

“But you are! Satanas, Omega, this is why we fuck.”

“Because I’m an asshole?”

“Exactly.”

Omega stood, lifting Terzo with him briefly until throwing him down angrily on the bed.

“Fine,” the ghoul growled, bearing his teeth. 

Terzo immediately looked uneasy.

Omega pounced on him, tearing off his clothes with nothing but his claws, indifferent to his skin breaking in the process. He dove down and kissed him wildly, making him groan with every long drag of claws down his body. 

Omega reached out with his mind, delving into Terzo’s. For a moment, he paused, his actions ceasing, focused. Then, he began pouring his quintessence into Terzo.

He turned and stood, his back to him. Listening. Suddenly, Terzo was whining, moaning, pathetically calling Omega’s name behind him. He cast a dour glare over his shoulder.

“Mostriciatto, what is happening?” Terzo whimpered. His body was shaking, his dick so hard it was visibly throbbing. Through him, quintessence was flowing in the form of sexual stimulation, taking over every nerve in his body. 

Omega was overwhelming him with pleasure.

“You’re getting what you asked for,” Omega replied darkly.

Omega watched him struggle and stare at him with pleading eyes. He slowly undressed himself, listening to Terzo’s cries, leaving everything he wore on the floor except his belt.

He slid into bed, leaning against the headboard. He commanded Terzo, “Come here.”

Terzo struggled. He slowly clamored to his knees, shaking fiercely, and crawled towards him, eventually dragging himself on his lap. Omega wrapped the belt around his neck, fastening it snuggly before giving it a terse yank. Terzo fell forward, catching himself on his chest. Omega held a claw under his chin, forcing him to look up.

“Ride me.”

Terzo shuddered, looking as if tears were filling his eyes. He nodded.

“Speak.”

Terzo moaned. “Yes… mostriciatto… I will…”

Terzo clamored to sit up, using Omega’s shoulders to steady himself. He looked down, grabbed Omega’s dick, and pressed it against himself. 

“There is… lube…” Terzo breathed, pointing at his nightstand.

He never held any patience for the suffering cardinal. Omega grabbed him by the hips and, with a bit of effort, shoved himself inside.

Terzo shouted in pain, then whined in pleasure. He hung his head, hand pressed to his forehead, gasping.

“Every time…” Terzo mumbled.

Omega yanked on the belt, stopping him from collapsing by holding his shoulder. Terzo’s breath caught with the hold of the belt. 

“Move.”

Terzo, with great effort, complied, raising and lowering himself with stuttered breaths and moaning. After only a few short thrusts, he came. A white stream that painted Omega’s stomach, his untouched cock kicking a few times, his ass tightening around Omega. He sank down, trembling, supporting himself by planting his hands on Omega’s hips.

Omega did not stop the flow of quintessence. Tears slipped down Terzo’s face.

“Mos… Mostri…” 

Omega held his face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. He said coldly, “I won’t stop until you make me cum.”

Terzo shook his head. Omega gripped the belt. “Keep. Going.”

He gasped against it, holding the belt with his hands. He let out a strained sob. Hesitantly, he began to move, placing his hands again on Omega’s shoulders, pushing himself up and down.

Omega peered at him callously. Deep down, while he loved the sight of Terzo so desperate, he knew he was going about it wrong. But when he remembered what Terzo said, he just became angrier. Unsatisfied. Covetous. Hedonistic.

“Faster,” he barked, frustrated. Terzo whined, tears falling from his chin to Omega’s stomach. So overwhelmed. His legs shook like they never had before. He sank down and stopped entirely.

“Fuck,” Omega seethed, growing rageful by the second. “I said faster.”

“I— I— I— am— t—trying—“ Terzo wailed. “It’s— too much—” He covered his face, collapsing in on himself like a dying star.

You are an asshole.

Omega roared, a monstrous sound that erupted from his throat, born of pure aggravation., like an animal that had been starved for too long. He grabbed Terzo’s hips and pushed him on his back. Terzo fell to the bed, his legs practically vibrating as they hung in the air.  Omega continued to pour that ever so pleasurable magic into him, just as he began to pound his cock into his tight ass.

“You wanted this!” Omega shouted. Terzo continued to tremble, covering his face, sporting another measly erection from the unending quintessence rushing through his veins. He said nothing in reply. He could not even hope to respond. He was too busy drooling on himself, losing control of his body.

Omega snarled, confused in his own rage. “Answer me! Tell me this is what you want!” 

Omega dragged his claws down his body, drawing blood. Terzo did not answer. Only incomprehensible sobs. Omega fucked him harder.

“Tell me to stop!” Omega said, desperate now, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. “Say stop!”

Omega grabbed his wrists, yanking his hands away from his face. Terzo’s eyes were rolled back, lashes fluttering, mouth agape in whatever form of moan or sob or scream emitting from him.

Beautiful.

Omega clenched his jaw. He grabbed him by the arms, sinking his nails within to hold him tight, thrusting as hard as he could. 

 “Mm… Mos…!”

The bed shook with the force. Terzo shook with more, and he came again. His body clenched down so hard that, for a moment, Omega thought he might get stuck.

And it felt amazing. 

With Omega’s orgasm came a wild jerk, one that made the bed shriek sharply in protest. He lost his connection to Terzo, finally ending the torturous waterfall of quintessence devouring the poor cardinal. Lost in his fog of pleasure, he fell forward, burying his head in Terzo’s shoulder, holding onto him like he was lost at sea. After a few more thrusts, they were still, with nothing but the sound of Terzo’s gentle sobbing, his soft hiccups as he calmed down.

His arms surrounded Omega. They slid around his back, massaging circles in his skin. It was strange, yet soothing. Omega was satiated, the rage dissipating, feeling calm.

“I’m sorry, mostriciatto,” Terzo murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “I asked for too much.”

Omega rose slightly, able to meet his eyes. He shook his head, pained by Terzo’s expression. His tears. His guilt.

“Don’t you apologize.” Omega took in a few deep breaths, and when he opened his eyes again, he noticed Terzo listening closely, watching him with intrigue. He looked away, finishing his sentence with, “I’m sorry.”

“Is Omega ghoul apologizing to me?”

Omega could no longer get mad. He was ashamed, abashed, disgusted by his own brutality. He simply nodded. 

“Then I forgive you.” 

Astonished, Omega turned to look at him just as he reached up to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. 

Terzo blinked up at him. Smiling. Omega felt his heart pounding. From his mind were bursts of adoration and happiness that Omega could not bear, that made him want to scream and sprint away from the bedroom. It smelled like roses.

Oh, how he despised him. 

But he could not despise him. Not anymore.

Omega gently touched his face, wiping away residual tears from his eyes, trying not to smear his makeup further. Terzo shut them, sighing serenely. His face. It filled his mind. His gentle face. His handsome face. His cute face.

Terzo interrupted his thoughts, opening his eyes once more.

“That was a bit much, though,” Terzo chuckled. “I think it was the yelling at me. That is usually fine, but you were angry, not sexy.”

Omega hardly listened. His face.

The aggression returned, but Omega bit it back. Instead he pulled out of Terzo, causing the cardinal to groan lightly, and sat at the edge of the bed. He sighed, clearing his mind.

“You called me an asshole,” Omega said quietly. He drew up his legs, wrapping his arms around them, his tail curling at his feet. He stared at a flaw in the patterned wallpaper behind his nightstand.

“You are not an asshole.” Terzo also sat up, sitting next to him. “I was speaking in bed. You do not-so-nice things, and it turns me on. But— err— perhaps asshole was the wrong word. Simple, eh, miscommunication. In normal life, you are quite good.” 

Omega did not answer. This prompted Terzo to keep talking. 

“Si, you are responsible and caring for the Ministry. They do not appreciate you, but I do.”

Omega turned his head towards him, still not quite meeting his eyes.

“When I become Papa,” Terzo continued, “Things will change. You will not be so stressed. You have my word.”

“Why does that matter to you?” Omega finally said.

“Ghoul, you are a gift from Satan, not a feelingless tool. You do not deserve to be enslaved by the cruelty of man. This is why you are angry, si?”

Omega’s eyes widened.

“We are lucky to have such magnificent creatures in our midst,” Terzo said. “Imperator does not understand. Perhaps she has not learned to know you. No human has been to me what you have been.”

Omega was at a loss for words. Was this truly the cardinal he had hated for so long? The drunk idiot skulking around ministry halls? This sober man was worlds away from the cardinal Omega thought he knew. Someone that could, somehow, so clearly read others better than Omega himself, and was thoughtful as a result. Someone that Omega thought he was like, before his life became a constant hailstorm of resentment and rage.

“What have I been to you?” Omega eventually asked.

“You are my mostriciatto, of course.”

Omega’s heart dropped. 

What was this man doing to him?

He abruptly stood and looked around as though uncertain of his intent. He caught sight of his clothes on the ground and snatched them up.

“Are you leaving so soon?”

Omega paused. “You aren’t done?”

Terzo sighed, hugging himself and looking away. “I am. I just thought you might stay tonight.”

Why?

The question rattled around his brain. One word. There was no reason for Terzo to treat him this way, to be so forgiving, to want him. To act so kind and say these things that made his chest feel strange. To possess him, to call him his mostriciatto.

Omega dropped his clothes, sitting again on the bed. Terzo’s feelings of shock struck the air like lightning, pervading Omega’s consciousness. Terzo was not expecting him to stay. Neither was he.

Omega said, “Okay.”

A warm vanilla scent graced his senses. Happiness. Relief. Intimacy. Terzo wanted this. Omega had never willingly spent the night with him before.

“Really?”

Omega nodded.

Terzo leaned against his arm. Without seeing his face, Omega knew he was smiling. “You have been surprising me as of recent, mostriciatto. I hope you keep doing that.”

Omega’s tail flicked back and forth. This time, let himself be. 

“I’m sorry. For yelling, I mean. And being an asshole. Again.” Omega’s words escaped him like vomit, feeling the need to apologize again.

“I do forgive you, Omega ghoul. Is there anything you would like to do tonight?”

Omega shook his head.

“We drink?”

Omega jumped up, scowling at him, ready to throw the entire night away.

Terzo laughed. “I kid, I kid! Calm down, ghoul, I know you do not like it. I do not need to drink with you around, I promise. Come, sit now.”

Omega sighed, relieved. He listened to his command, returning to his side. 

“Actually, I should not have sit. My quilt is ruined.”

Terzo slowly rose, and they both looked down at the mess he left behind. Well, it was really Omega’s mess that was left behind. 

“I will shower,” Terzo declared, snatching up his robe, discarded on one of his armchairs, and wrapping himself within.

Omega nodded. He hesitated, watching Terzo walk away. 

“Do you…” Omega started. Terzo paused, looking over his shoulder. “…I mean, I want to shower.”

Terzo smirked. He held up his hand and curled his finger back, beckoning the ghoul. Omega, though embarrassed, obediently followed his gesture, trailing after him into his bathroom.

Terzo turned on the water. They both lingered for a moment, subtle glances directed anywhere but their eyes. When the water began steaming, Terzo hung his robe on a nearby hook and stepped inside the standing shower, leaving the glass door ajar.

Omega shuffled towards him, shutting the door behind him. He looked down. Terzo’s hair was wet, flat against his head with strands sticking to his forehead. Black eye makeup streamed down his face just as residual blood rinsed from his fresh scratches, giving him a hauntingly beautiful complexion, like a painting thrust into the rain.

“What do you smile at, hm?” Terzo asked. 

Omega had not realized. He set his face in stone. “Nothing.”

“Ha, I know. I am only now realizing I forgot my eyes.” He grabbed a bottle of some sort of cream, squirted it onto his fingertips, and scrubbed furiously at his face. He turned towards the spray, rinsing it off. Omega idly held his waist, blaming their close proximity.

“Is it gone?” Terzo spun and looked up at him.

“Yeah,” Omega said, feeling his face heat up. Indeed, his face was clear, and it felt to Omega just a tad too intimate to see his face like this. At least last time he saw his face, when Terzo was hungover, he looked too awful to inspire such thoughts. Now shone his true complexion, and it was bugging Omega in some type of way.

Terzo fell forward, pressing his cheek against Omega’s chest and hugging him. Omega naturally embraced him back.

He sighed softly. “Mostriciatto, what are we doing here?”

Omega ran his fingers through Terzo’s hair. “I don’t know.”

“It would not work, would it?”

Omega wanted to feign ignorance, but they both knew what Terzo meant. Omega, as hard as he tried, could not be blind to Terzo’s feelings. 

“No.” His heart twisted painfully.

Terzo nodded, his face gliding against Omega’s wet chest.

“But we can keep fucking?”

“Yeah,” Omega murmured. “It’s easier to hide.”

“Is that why it would not work?” Terzo looked up.

“What?”

“Because we could not hide. Is that why?”

“No.”

Terzo’s eyebrows twitched, confused. “Oh. Is it… You do not feel the same?”

“I don’t.” 

He knew it was a lie before it even left his mouth. But Terzo was not the one able to read his intent, and so he believed him. His face fell, and he looked away, returning to their hug. Disappointment. Sadness. 

“Oh.”

The smell of roses faded. It broke Omega’s heart. But somehow, he believed it was the right thing to do. 

“I hope it is not awkward then,” Terzo laughed, but it was strained. “I am sorry, mostriciatto.”

Omega could hardly withstand the feelings of hurt and confusion radiating off him. It would not work. Not because of Terzo, or the Ministry, or any of the plethora of minute yet valid reasons that they could not be together. Omega had wrapped himself up in an angry facade to keep the world at bay, but he had not forgotten his own, true emotions.

He was afraid.

“Don’t apologize.”

It took everything inside of Omega not to take it all back. This was for the best, he knew. Omega always had to make the sacrifice.

“Then forget I said anything,” Terzo laughed again. He untangled himself from Omega, turning to the shower. He started cleaning himself. “I want to keep fucking you, that is all that is important, si?”

“Terzo—“

“Please. Do not say anything.”

Omega watched him shower in awkward silence. They took turns under the spray, saying nothing.  They did not speak another word until they had left the bathroom, with Terzo sitting in his bed, robe around him, looking up at Omega hesitating to join.

“You may leave if you want,” Terzo finally said. He crossed his arms, looking away.

Omega grappled with himself, struggling to let the cardinal go in his mind. 

And in the end, his heart won.

Omega wordlessly slipped under the covers, lying next to him. After a moment, Terzo cautiously shifted closer, lying on his chest. Omega put his arm around him, and felt Terzo’s tension and unease dissipate with the act. He nestled against his side, sighing contentedly. A hint of rosey fragrance graced Omega’s nose.

“Goodnight, mostriciatto.”

“Goodnight.”

~end of act one~

[parts]: one | previous | next

buy me a kofi <3

[villainousauthor]

Part one

The Villain's brow pinches together as they overlook the data they've managed to acquire so far. Nothing made sense, they've run every test they could think of to try and discover what it was that gave the Hero their regenerative abilities, to no avail.

They almost feel bad about the poking and prodding they've had to do, one blood draw after another, tissue sampling, and more. At the very least, Hero has stopped fighting them as much these past few weeks, making their work easier.

Villain turns back to where Hero sits on the exam table, their eyes adverted, seemingly focused on some spot in the corner of the room. They gently, but firmly, grab Hero by the chin and turn their head upwards.

"Open up." The Villain's voice is quiet as they grab a new swab. "I'm going to need some more of your buccal cells."

Hero doesn't resist their hold, but speaks up in the same unserious tone they always maintain. "Use normal people words, say cheek." They always seem to have some teasing thing to say to Villain, though it mostly lacks any bite. Villain assumes this is Hero's way of maintaining some sense of control in this environment, and it's not like they mind the chatter regardless.

"If you think buccal is a complex word, I'm afraid you really aren't much more than a pretty face," Villain's tone isn't serious either, as their fingers press into Hero's jaw slightly more. "Now open up."

Hero obeys without any sass now, parting their lips so Villain can swab the inside of their mouth. Villain doesn't miss the way they lean into their touch, Hero relaxing into their hold. It's a stark contrast to how things were the first few weeks here when Villain could hardly approach Hero without getting bitten or hit. Most of the early testing from those days had to be done with Hero restrained.

Now, Hero leans into them constantly, as if they're craving another person's touch. They maintain eye contact as Villain presses close, the whole situation feeling oddly intimate. Hero's skin feels almost addictingly warm, even through the Villain's cold gloves.

Pulling away and placing the swab tip into an opened tube, Villain turns away from them, hoping to show not too much emotion on their face.

They know how touch-starved and desperate for human contact Hero is, and by God they would love to indulge them, but they want to maintain at least some sort of professionalism here, despite how deeply unethical this entire thing is. Or perhaps because of how deeply unethical it is. One less sin counted against them. To tell themselves at the very least, they're not taking advantage of Hero's loneliness while in their captivity.

They look to Hero again though as they set the test tube down, and find their will slowly chipping away, as Hero watches them with those lovely eyes that make Villain want to keep them forever.

Villain sighs, taking their gloves off and approaching them again. "You make it so difficult." Villain's cold hand comes to caress their jaw, as Hero looks at them, slightly confused by their words.

"What do you mean?" They ask as Villain's thumb goes to trace their bottom lip lightly.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to let you go when this is all said and done," Their hand wraps around to their neck, sliding through Hero's hair. "Even when I've gotten what I first stole you away for, I don't think I'll ever be quite done with you."

Villain leans forward, their lips just barely hovering above Hero's. There is no mistaking the burning fire in Villain's eyes. They seem to consider their next action for a moment before pulling away hesitantly, letting go.

They clear their throat, putting back up that wall of untouchable professionalism. "That's all for now. I'll come to collect you later for another blood draw."

[adorablebanite]

I really need to finish my Awaiting Further Instruction fic! Just struggling with a bit of burnout and confidence issues, but chewing through it and trying to be patient with myself ^-^

I'll post a bit below if anyone is interested- especially if they don't feel like commiting to a whole ass 40 chapter fic 😅

Context: Lilla impresses Lord Gortash after tending wine at one of his private parties, and asks her to stay on full time as his secretary 😌

Very good then!” Gortash gave a curt clap, his golden gauntlet shimmering in the candlelight. “Before I establish your hours, tell me,” he leaned against a large opulent sofa, “what other services do you provide?”

Lilla attempted to swallow before answering, but her throat had gone dry. “Other s…services? Saer?” She began burning up again, “What were you considering, exactly?”

“Well,” he breathed in deeply, “No way to put it but bluntly…can you read and write?”

Against her will, Lilla let out a hiss of sharp laughter. Gods why was she so on edge? She forced herself to relax, lest she continue looking daft.

Gortash gave an amused chuckle in response, “I assure you, I didn’t intend for the question to be insulting…though I suppose I couldn’t blame you for such an assumption.” He was teasing her. He knew Lilla was privy to his little insult towards the nobleman.

Lilla giggled, “Yes saer, I can read and write.”

“Excellent,” he grinned; something that appeared to come very easily to him. “Forgive me for potentially overstepping my bounds, and at the risk of taking up more of your time…would you indulge me in a quick example before you leave for the night?” he gestured to a nearby shelf holding knick knacks and clockwork devices. A quill sat patiently next to an inkpot awaiting her demonstration.

“Of course saer!” she chimed, unable to hold back a smile, rushing to retrieve them. She however was unable to spot any parchment around, and certainly didn't want to reveal the existing notebook in the garden. Thinking quickly, she dipped the quill in the ink, and scrawled some letters onto the soft white underflesh of her arm, eager to show off her skill. Lilla held out her arm for him to see the words more clearly: ‘ Lord Gortash.’

The easy grin on his lips faded, replaced by a peculiar expression she couldn't quite place. Was he displeased?

Holding her arm out awkwardly, Lilla interrupted the strange silence. “Does it not please you, saer?” She asked, hoping it wasn’t too crude of an example for his liking.

The question seemed to snap Gortash out of some sort of trance, his gaze shifting from his name scrawled on her skin to her anticipating eyes. He gave an amused scoff, and scratched his cheek lightly with a sharp golden fingertip. “Yes, miss Lilla, it pleases me. Thank you for that…efficient…demonstration. And with such lovely handwriting, no less!”

Lilla beamed proudly and gave him a small curtsy, “Thank you, saer.”

Gortash ran a hand through his tousled raven hair, inhaling sharply. “I do hope to see you here tomorrow morning, bright and early, yes?”

[ampedupkaon]

August Writing Challenge Day 9: Ban/Elaine

AN: Set after the Sins have kicked the Demon King out of Meliodas, but before the Demon King gets inside Zeldris.

He hadn't thought this would happen, not after she'd died. Ban knew he'd fallen in love with Elaine and the sort of things that lovers did. He didn't think he'd actually get to do any of them with her. And yet... They'd kissed. They'd cuddled. And they'd shared a bed. Like they were doing right now. King wouldn't approve. Ban didn't care. She wanted to come to bed with him and he wouldn't deny her that. There was a moment of peace and they could sleep together. Not like that. Not yet. He wasn't going to get her pregnant when the fighting was still going on. A war-zone was no place for a baby.

“Ban...” He felt Elaine's hand on his chest and glanced down. He smiled softly.

“What is it, Elaine?” He asked, his hand trailing her wings lightly. He was a little frightened of damaging them, but he knew she liked them stroked.

“Go back to sleep.” He glanced around and saw it was rather dark in their room. It had become their room now; King was outside with Diane. Ban would make sure to tease him about sleeping with the giant in the morning. Right now... his treasure was requesting he went back to sleep.

“Sure. Night beautiful.” He shuffled down to peck her lips. She giggled, giving him a kiss in return.

“Night handsome.” He felt a flush of pride at her words. He got settled and dozed off, her doing the same. When he next became aware, there was orange light starting to peek under the curtains. Still too early. He closed his eyes, but sleep evaded him. Elaine stirred after a moment, sensing he was struggling to get back to sleep.

“What's wrong?” She asked. Ban didn't know, beyond the obvious. And that wouldn't be keeping him awake. It would be sad... but it wasn't his problem. Elaine held him tighter.

“You'll find a way. I know you will.” She was reading his heart; knowing the feelings going through him all too well. Perhaps she was sad Elizabeth was going to be forced away from the man she loved? He didn't dare ask. It would make it feel more real. He knew there was only so many days that Meliodas could remain in this world. And losing his best friend would hurt. It hurt when he thought Estarossa had killed him. It hurt when he'd left with Elizabeth and Chandler to become the Demon King. It had hurt when he thought he'd lost him as he left Purgatory too.

“It doesn't matter right now. Right now, I'm here. With you, the woman I love.” He leaned forward, Elaine resting her forehead against his. Her lips met his and he jumped, not expecting the kiss. He quickly started kissing back though, showing her that he loved her, as many times as it would take to etch it in her mind. She drew back with a grin on her face.

“It already is Ban. And I love you too.” She leaned back in and locked their lips. A few more kisses and he felt the tiredness starting to set back in. Elaine drew back.

“Sleep for now. I'll be here when you wake up.” She snuggled in to him and he relaxed again. He knew that too. It was still hard to believe he'd actually done it. He'd actually brought her back. He wasn't dreaming, about to wake up in Purgatory looking for the captain once more. He felt a pinch to his cheek.

“Ow. What was that for?”

“This is real Ban. I'm here, with you. And I'll be here with you every morning you wake up.” She once more snuggled in, trying to coax him to stop worrying and go back to sleep. He settled down this time, managing to doze off. He felt a tickle of lips on his forehead after a while. He smirked, blinking his eyes open. The kisses trailed down over his nose, before moving to both cheeks and then, finally, his lips. He kissed back with as much passion as he could manage after just waking up. Elaine giggled when she drew back.

“What did I do to deserve a wake up like that one?” He asked. She kissed him again instead of answering. He allowed that for a few moments, just letting her get a good feel of his lips with her own, before stopping her.

“Answer my question.”

“You exist. You're here, with me, and I couldn't be happier.” Ban smiled, one filled with love. She squealed when he grabbed her, lifting her up and placing her on top of him. She smirked, realising what being here meant.

“You know I'm not going to let you up, don't you?” She teased, kissing his cheeks.

“Eh... not like I had any plans today. Staying in bed with you sounds perfect.” Elaine giggled, locking lips with him once more. He hoped every morning could start like this; the woman he loved kissing him for... however long she felt like it. That sounded like heaven.

AN: When Elaine decides Ban can get up and they meet with the others... Ban asks King if he enjoyed sleeping with Diane. King answers with yes before realising what he's just implied and he becomes a spluttering mess!

[mazeinthemiroh]

together, we watch the sun rise.

Genre: Fluff, a bit of crack

Word Count: 1k

Requested?: Yes

Synopsis: Jeongin decides to go on a trip with you despite having to wake up extra early. And, you know what? It was all worth it.

Warnings: None

A/N: This one's short but sweet. It's very much a spring fic because I am sooooo ready for spring and I'm trying to manifest warmer weather because i am currently shivering IN MY OWN HOUSE. anyways, rant over. i hope you enjoy this fluffy fic :]

Jeongin would never have thought he would have the motivation to get up in the early hours of the morning. But when it came to you, he didn't seem to care half as much.

"Come on, it'll be fun," you said with a big grin as you wiggled your eyebrows at him, hoping that the little gesture would persuade him.

"What's in it for me?" He teased as he crossed his arms over his chest. He knew he was going to say yes to you because, of course, he would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with you. But that didn't mean he was going to give in that easily.

"Oh, gee, I don't know, how about spending one-on-one quality time with your partner?" Your hands slid to your hips as you jokingly glared at him, "but hey, if that's not a good enough reason maybe you should find a new partner."

Jeongin chuckled and rolled his eyes at your dramatics, "I'm only joking, you idiot!" He grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him, "I would love to come."

And so here you both were, driving out of the city and on your way to the countryside before the sun had even risen. No, Jeongin would have never thought he would wake up this early at all. But he was with you, so he needed to trust the process. And so he let himself

Although his eyes were tempted to close as you sat in the driver's seat, eyes focused on the road as the soft, chill playlist sounded through the car, he resisted going to sleep. He didn't want to be too tired for what was about to come.

Time seemed to dissolve and the view soon changed from a city scattered with buildings and lights, to the dark countryside, sprinkled with hills and greenery as far as you could see.

"We're here... sort of," you said through a yawn as you parked up. Jeongin's eyes scanned the outside of his car.

You both were, indeed, in the middle of nowhere. Jeongin didn't know whether to feel terrified of his new environment or relieved for being free from its business.

Getting out of the car, you grabbed each other's hands and set off on your new journey, not quite at your final destination yet.

Using your phones as flashlights, you watched your step as you began to ascend a very tall hill. The sky was barely beginning to show signs of light, remaining dark as you trudge your way up. It took some walking at first. Actually... it took a lot of walking. It was steep too. Walking up a tremendously big hill did not look easy. If you were by yourself, you probably would've given up. But neither of you felt the strain in your legs or the burn in your calf muscles because both of you were distracted by each other's company and the conversation you shared. Travelling as a pair felt less like a want and more of a need. You couldn't imagine enjoying yourself any other way.

And then you both made it, to the very top. You collapsed on the grass and spread yourself out like a starfish, trying to catch all the breath you had lost on the ascend. Jeongin plopped down next to you, also trying to regain his breath, but chuckling lightly at your exhausted state.

After a handful of minutes gone by, both of your breathing finally evened out. This was when you could fully appreciate the scenery before you. The countryside, with its rolling hills and scattered trees, places to explore in the forests and farms and fields of flowers. Over the great expanse of greenery, you could see the city from where you and Jeongin just fled. It felt weird seeing it like this; above and away from it all at once.

The sky got ever so lighter.

"What a view," you gasped, eyes fixated on the beauty before you.

"Yeah," Jeongin breathed out dreamily, only he wasn't looking at the view.

He was looking straight at you.

Feeling his gaze, you turned to face him, brushing his arm lightly with your hand as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"You're not here to gawk at me, Mister!" You laughed playfully, feeling your heart flutter as Jeongin grinned shyly.

"Hey, you're my only view~" he said playfully, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him on the grass. You tried to object but you couldn't help but melt into his softness.

"I like the view right now~" you sang obnoxiously loud in his ear, making him wince slightly.

"Gah, Y/N, you ruined the romantic moment!"

"Was that your attempt at romance?"

You both burst into laughter. You were convinced you had woken up a couple of livestock that minded their own business from the bottom of the hill. Certainly woken up a few sheep because your laughter bounced off the hills and ran through the quiet, morning countryside.

The sky got noticeably lighter. The moment you had both been waiting for.

"Look!" You interrupted the fit of laughter as you point to the orange eruption in the sky: the sun was rising.

The pair of you grew quiet as you set together, hand in hand, staring at the great expanse of the sky. There were little swirled clouds that twirled like smoke, caressing the face of the sun as it rose slowly. With each passing second, the sky would change ever so slightly. Dark orange to light orange to a peachy colour, pinks tickling the white clouds that rose with the sun. Then a yellow set in, and soon the sky had a creamy hue, the sky getting lighter and lighter still.

This very natural recurring earthly moment for some reason felt very small and intimate, as if it were a performance for just you and Jeongin to watch.

He turned to you, the smile on his face soft as he kissed your cheek, making you turn to him and return the kiss, this time on his lips.

Why did everything feel so calm? So perfect? You sighed into the kiss as you released his hand, tangling your own hand in his hair. Your mouths moved in perfect synchronisation, slow and easy.

He was the first to pull away, just to look into your eyes as they sparkled in the new sunlight.

"We shouldn't definitely do this again."

taglist: @hearts4sungie, @seokshineswiftie, @alyszaen, @jtrstp, @a-wandering-stay, @leeknowww, @hyungenie5, @hanstan127, @strayteez3staner

[polyklok]

Hello again, i love all your work!!! 💕💕

I was curious of your opinion about skwickles and if you have headcanons for them? (≧∀≦*)

Well, firstly, I’m all for every single inter-Dethklok ship and I don’t think I really hate any of the ‘mainstream’ ships for the show in general. The only exception to this is maybe Natgail but I think that’s cause Abigail has 0 appeal to me the writers did her so dirty. So you can bet your ass that I love Skwickles even I can’t pronounce it for shit.

I think they would first get together in Dethklok’s early days, five boys squeezed together in a small apartment and making music. Skwisgaar and Pickles shared a room, Skwisgaar having a futon floor mattress shoved in one corner and Pickles having a bundle of clothes, blankets, and a single pillow that he often just fell into in the other. Pickles, a washed up glamrock star, and Skwisgaar, a mysterious guitarist that hardly spoke any English.

Out of anybody in the band, they had the highest sex drives and most flexible sexualities. Pickles was charming and scrappy, Skwisgaar was seductive and passionate. They just sort of fell into each other…on several occasions. It became routine for Skwisgaar to pluck mindlessly as his guitar while Pickles did a horrid job of explaining the English language and then fucking each other to sleep.

Even as Dethklok rapidly grew in popularity and hoards of groupies were throwing themselves at them; the two grew apart a bit sexually but ultimately had a stronger relationship.

With their consistent drunkenness, shameless horniness, and pure audacity, it’s not uncommon for all the members of Dethklok to occasionally get frisky with each other simply for ‘convenience’. There was an unspoken rule to do the deed and then never speak of it again. But with Pickles and Skwisgaar, they often didn’t seem uncomfortable by their experience with messing around, even teasing each other with tones that were oh-so-slightly flirty.

I’ll say that, for the sake of these headcanons, they have a complicated friends-with-benefits relationship rather than an official one. It’s not gay if it’s your band mate, am I right?

Skwisgaar is a perfectionist and has some workaholic tendencies. He’ll shred and shred at his guitar until it sounds just right to his ears, even if his hands ache and his fingertips bleed. He relies on Pickles to tear him away from his guitar, even for just a few minutes to take care of his hands or clear his head. Skwisgaar will complain and whine, but he really does appreciate it in the long term.

Similarly, Pickles parties way too hard way too regularly. I mean, Dethklok are all kinda like that, but Pickles is on another level. Skwisgaar is often the one to sober Pickles up or take care of his brutal hangovers. He’ll lightly complain but they both ultimately know how sweet he’s being.

Pickles has to regularly fight off Skwisgaar from cleaning his hair. He likes his disgusting, filthy, stinky dreads!

I imagine them both be kind of crybabies, so they often sit in a dark room together, share a blunt, listen to some music, and just…cry. They’ve agreed to not speak of it to anyone.

Skwisgaar will very occasionally let Pickles do his makeup. In exchange, Pickles has to let Skwisgaar pick out a nice outfit for him. They act like they hate it but it’s one of their favorite bonding activities.

I don’t have much else. I’ve waited a couple days to let inspiration flow but my brain is giving me almost nothing. I might update this later if I come up with more. Thanks for the ask!

[tetsunabouquet]

Heir To The Lands Chapter 43

Honesty and Secrets Masterpost

Thais sat in the kitchen, thankful for having some time alone with Tomas. She had barely had the time to just drift on cloud 9 after their first date until this mess had occurred. He stared at her with an unrestrained moony grin, his hazelgreen eyes looking at her like nothing else existed in the world but her. "Has someone ever told you that you've got the cutest pyjamas ever?" He couldn't help but lightly tease as his gaze lowered towards her nightgown with sweet looking baby foxes printed all over it. Thais giggled and gave him a warm smile. "You have." Tomas winked, "I'm glad to be an honest boy. There's nothing more wonderful then the smile of a charming lady." "Surprisingly, I find your flattery to be the sugar of my tea." Thais said it before she could think about her choice of words, but she forgave herself for sounding a little cheesy. The butterflies and early stages of love got her feeling as if she had drank too much alcohol. Everywhere in her body she felt tingly. "You know, I wanted to say this for a while now, but you really are an amazing friend too." Tomas said, gesturing at their surroundings. Thais sighed softly, "Says the glue of the Three Musketeers." "I suppose we're both weak in the face of our friends, but it's not a bad thing. It just shows we have compatible values." Tomas pointed out sweetly. "You're right." They both looked up as they heard footsteps. Kit walked into the kitchen, his hands in the air. "I'm just grabbing a snack. You two can go back to the smooching in a sec." "We're not smooching." Thais retorted, feeling her face get a little red. Kit chuckled and grabbed himself a small package of crackers to munch on before he left, leaving Thais and Toman to fall back into eachother's eyes.

Kit tried to not think of Livvy dissapearing this morning. She had mentioned that she was going to check up on the Cohort as they shouldn't forget the threat they posed either. She had seemed a bit weird, but Kit blamed it on not being able to interact with everyone else. He bet she was feeling loney, isolated from the living like she was. Trying to distract himself, he wondered what the pink goblin was up to, as no one had spotted Gwenneth in a while. After a bit of searching, he found her in a corner of the backyard as she seemed to water the plants, however the water had a strangely sweet smell. "Gwenneth, what are you giving to the plants?" "Just a bit of water added with rosemary and ninnin." The first sounded pretty okay, but Kit knew from his Shadow Market days that ninnin was a faerie spice. "Why are you doing that if I may ask?" "Of course you may ask my King! I planted some yaya seeds, but with this earth's soil lacking a few of the nutritions that they need I am hereby making sure that they get what they need." Kit blinked. Wait a minute… "Yaya? You mean like those apples you fed Jaime when he was the Seelie Queen's captive?" Gwenneth nodded with a chipper smile. Kit rubbed his temples. "You can't just go plant faerie trees in the mundane world! What if they notice?!" "But my King, once I am a movie star and have become an ambassador for our world to the mundanes, I will say it was a gift for my first investor," Gwenneth replied and Kit simply decided to retreat back inside his house, debating how he should tell his foster parents that they were going to have a world exclusive in being the first to have faerie trees grow in their backyard. Just as he tried to think of a way to tell them, he felt someone bump into him from behind. He looked up and saw Dru, her face a little pale as she quickly went to sort the grocery bags into the kitchen, not even bothering to say hi. Kit sighed as he wondered what was worse, the Blackthorn sisters acting off or the Gwenneth situation as if things hadn't been bad enough already. Kit only knew one thing, that his life was utterly chaos and he bit down on the cracker feeling tired.

[bobathirstaccount]

Fated Ch 4

***

No harm in trying, you thought. You hopped into an outfit that always made you feel good. Running a hand over your head to sort things, you checked yourself out in the mirror. This’ll work, you thought.

You skipped out the door and took the short way there.

***

Suddenly you weren’t so sure. You stalled outside bay 3, wondering if it was Too Weird to show up. Fiddling with your hands for a moment, you gathered your courage and walked into the bay.

Boba’s ship sat solemnly. The door was closed. You wondered if he was inside, or out and about. You tilted your head, considering your next move.

“Hey, there,” Boba’s voice sounded from behind you. You whipped around, startled. He was standing there with some groceries. You smiled. “How domesticated of you - groceries?” You teased lightly.

He grinned, “Guess so; I was gonna make something my dad used to make sometimes… and invite you over to try it. But, since you’re already here, come in.”

He walked up to you. Nodding in the direction of his ship, he started walking again. You turned and followed him into the ship, which had opened up.

***

”Next you got to chop this. But I only have this knife, which is actually not for cooking but we’ll make do. So anyway, just hold it like this -“ Boba put the heavy blade in your hand. You were shocked by the weight of it. You let him position it and then did your best to chop vegetables with the heavy weapon.

Arm sore, you set the knife down. Done. And not a moment too soon. You rubbed your arm muscles.

“Oh, good, you’re done. Great timing.” He grabbed the vegetables and threw them into the pot. Stirring, he hummed softly, “Want to crush some herbs?”

Wondering if you were going to use a boulder or something similarly heavy, you heard yourself answer, “Sure.”

“Here’s this mortar and pestle. It’s for grinding explosives, but I washed them both,” He commented, carefree.

Trying to hid a smile, you accepted them and the herbs he subsequently handed you. Doing your best, you ground them together slowly. Finally you looked up. Boba was casually stirring the stew.

“What kinda stew is this?” You asked, nudging him. He turned, “Hm? Oh, it’s a vegetarian stew… very simple but very tasty. At least, I think.” He took the herbs and dumped them in. Stirring, he continued, “Hopefully, you’ll agree. So, what led you over to the hangar, anyway?”

“Ah, just in the area, you know…”

“Hm… alright I’ll believe you. Well, let’s let it simmer for awhile. In the meantime, want a tour of my ship?”

***

The meal was delicious. Boba served the stew with some crunchy bread to dip into it.” You looked up from your second serving, “Who knew bounty hunters eat so well?”

He laughed softly, “Usually it’s just MREs. They’re easy and you can… uh, subsist off them.”

You snorted a laugh. “Sounds delightful.”

Boba cleared the small table. He set some whiskey down on it. You laughed, “It’s a bit early, no?”

”For day drinking? Nah.” You felt his foot nudge yours under the table. “What do you say? Just a little digestif?”

”Well if you say it so fancy, I guess I can’t refuse,” you nudged his foot back, feeling flirty. He poured two heavy handed drinks. Pushing one glass towards you, he commented, “Kanpai.”

You clinked your glasses together. After sipping, you said, “I was going to go to the market after this; you wanna come?” Surprised at yourself, you waited for his response.

“Sure,” he purred. Suddenly you felt fingers on one of your knees.

“What are we shopping for?”

Having no idea, you tried to buy time to figure that out, “It’s a surprise.” You sipped your drink.

He smiled slightly, and you felt his finger slid up a bit higher. He had to lean forward to do so; you teased him, “How come you’re sitting so weird? All hunched over and stuff?”

His smile turned playful, and you felt him grip your lower thigh slightly more strongly. It tickled a little bit. You flinched and laughed, “Hey no tickling though…”

He let your leg go and stood up. Sitting on the table, he scooted over to your side. Playing with an embellishment on you shirt, he commented, “Are you ticklish here?” He lightly grazed your chest with his fingers. Heart starting to pound, you managed a composed, “Nn-noo…”

He leaned down into your space. Before you could react, he had kissed you very lightly. His lips were soft and warm against yours. Getting goosebumps, you murmured, “Oh…”

“Shall we go to the market?” He purred, playing with your shirt again.

Heart beating wildly, you murmured, “Yeah…”

He kissed you again. Impulsively, you threw your arms around him. He pulled you up out of your seat and into his lap. He broke the kiss to nuzzle his face into your neck. Kissing you lightly there, he sighed and then rested his head on your shoulder. His hands were lightly on your hips.

Still beside yourself, you mumbled, “Are we really going?”

He laughed softly, “Yeah, it’s just you looked so good I had to kiss you again.” He stood, helping you to your feet in the process. He turned towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Kissing you softly one last time, Boba rumbled, “What’s this surprise?”

You realized you still hadn’t decided. Quickly, you narrowed it down to a few choices.

[tangiblejournal56]

10/7/11

In a state of anxiety, my head in circles right now, spinning suspicion & anger at my own carelessness & stupidity.  I fear I may have left my journal at the Italian’s apartment, the one I use while at work to write things out before I put them down in this black book too heavy to lug around.  There is not much written about him in there just yet but for a couple of paragraphs I was kicking around, among pages & pages about Boss, about Max, about various others & my own insecurities.  I do not want him reading all of the prose I’ve written regarding Boss, as the Italian will immediately know to whom I am referring, & I do NOT want him reading about Max, as it will come off as more than what our relationship really is.

This is not what I wanted to deal with.  Not when my feelings of desire for this boy are so fresh, & still quite strong.  He’s the first bit of happiness & relief I’ve found in this city in a long time, & I do not have any desire to let that go just yet.  Not when he can put this smile on my face.

It started a couple of nights ago.  I was at work & he showed up for his shift, surprising me because we hadn’t worked together in a few weeks.  I was pleased to see his smile, that rare display of his dimples, his comments, our flirting.  We make eye contact & I can’t stop this grin on my face, my attraction to him unsubtle, my normally easy words sticking in my throat.  His eyes get me into this nervous box, his dark eyes with bags beneath them as though he hasn’t slept in months.  The way he keeps them half-closed & narrowed at me when we make our innuendos.  Our advances had taken on a more insistent edge which I assumed was due to not having been around each other for a time.  But my hands would shake when he was near, & I faked a sort of bravado so he wouldn’t be able to see the depth of my shyness.  How it felt to be the center of his attention.  Passing by me I would touch his arm in light affection, he would lightly run his hand across my back.  He would head to the door to leave on a delivery, I would be helping a customer, & he would catch my eyes with his own, then that smile before he’d walk out.  I’d look down, smiling to myself, & ask the customer to please repeat their order.

All of this touching & eye contact made me bold, & in my impulsive way I requested his phone number from a coworker.  I sent him a message, something forgettable about creeping on him through the phone; he responded that it felt alright, asked to whom he was speaking.  I let him know by offering that my dimples were cuter than his own.  “Ha, you gave it away,” he answered.  “And that’s arguable.”

“We would never know, would we, you don’t ever use yours,” I teased him.  He always has such a look of contention on his face, as though he can’t wait to get out of the shop.

“I smile a lot when you’re around,” he replied, making me blush.  “Maybe you should try to make me smile more.”  I asked him how I might do this, as I know nothing about him.  He asked if I would like to get to know him better.

He informed me of his last name, he is a twenty-four-year old Leo, in nursing school.  We talked a lot, all through the night actually, messaging back & forth.  Banter leading into innuendo, leading into admitting our attraction.  I told him I liked him, & that he could do with that information what he pleased.  He said he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with that information quite yet, he was uncertain whether he was looking for a relationship that carried any responsibilities.  He did quite openly admit that he was attracted to me, & had the desire to see me naked.  He also divulged that he is a very sexual person & not self-conscious about it.  All of this heavy flirting, paired with our blunt attitudes toward each other led to a highly charged longing to sleep together.  It was late & he had class early in the morning so he couldn’t pick me up.  I could see his resolve slipping for a moment - “Tell me to come over & I will” - but I didn’t want to be the reason his head was heavy in class.  He asked me to come over around nine the next day when he was done with class & before I had to be at work.  “I could send you to work with a big smile…”  This is not where the conversation ended, however.  He engaged me in a round of phone sex, even sending me a picture of his standing erection - “Well here is something to think about.”  He told me he was a very passionate lover, & I hoped this was true.  I was tired of boys like Jacob & their casualness, their lack of foreplay.  I wanted so much to be treated like a woman, something I hadn’t had in a long time, something that was rare even with Max.  We said goodnight & I fell asleep in deep anticipation of the next morning, terrified he would be let down by the me in person versus the me over the phone.

He picked me up outside of the coffee shop near the deli, a pair of black-framed glasses I’d never seen before giving his face an added handsomeness.  I was scared, not of him but of what his expectations were of me, whether this boy who was so honest about his own sexual drive & his active sex life would find me a great disappointment, the way I find so many to be.  Inside his single man apartment we sat on his couch, talking about ourselves as he filled his skull-faced pipe with weed.  I felt a little calmer after having smoked, the lines a bit more blurred, but I was too aware of how unintelligent I came off sounding in my high state.  I apologized, telling him weed always causes an inarticulateness in me.  Normally I wouldn’t have been so bothered by this, but he was surprisingly intelligent, well-spoken & had a lot to say about any subject.  I was unused to this as of late, & I worried about how I came off, wanting this boy to think of me as someone worth his time.

Eventually he slid down on the couch, asked me why I was so far away.  He pulled me down, then up against him, laying my head on his chest & stroking my hair, telling me I smelled good.  We kept up a conversation but it was just background noise to our small motions of running our hands across each other.  This to me made whatever would happen irrelevant, as this was more comforting human contact than I’d had in a long time.  I hadn’t had this since Ryan, with the exception of Max, & with Max there was always that barrier, that line of knowing it wasn’t real because he didn’t really want me like that.  With the Italian I felt the attraction, & there were no false pretenses.

He lifted my face towards his & began to kiss me, kissing that made any other thought escape my dizzy head.  I’d so longed for someone to kiss me just as he did, with fever & passion & skill & force, I lost myself in it, became incredibly turned on.  He crawled over me, still kissing, grabbing me with strong hands, pulling me against his body, stronger than I had thought.  Running my hands through his short, dark hair, not struggling against but latching onto him in return.  He didn’t try to take my shirt off which relieved me, instead pulling my breasts out over the low neckline.  Bending his head to put his lips against them, my moans, his mouth on my neck, pulling my hair gently.  I pulled at his shirt, asking him to take it off, revealing his perfect body.  I say perfect meaning, perfect in regard to my ideally-shaped man, not skinny but not chubby, a few extra pounds on him so that he feels solid, nutlike I could break him in half.  He had trimmed his body hair which covered him from chest to stomach.  I asked him to never do that, to let it grow out.  Tattoos on his chest & back, there was no end to my attraction to his body.  Strong forearms, my very favorite part of men, & he very definitely had the body of a man.  He pulled me into his bedroom & tossed me on the bed as he had promised the night before to do, pulling my pants off of me with ease & eagerness.  Despite my reserve, he pushed my legs apart, burying his face in between, waves of heat & pleasure rippling through me.  After awhile I pulled him up to me, & he kissed me deeply again, tasting of me & I wrapped my legs around him tightly.  We switched to several different positions, each one a new surprise, a new wave of pleasure.  I hadn’t anticipated this, though I’d hoped for it, begging the universe for this small kindness, for me to be made love to, not just fucked but truly made love to, like I’d been needing.  I’d hoped so strongly that it would be something I would enjoy, not a regret that made me feel used.  I’d been expecting the worst, & the relief I felt was immense.  With it also came a feeling of apprehension, as this made him now dangerous.  I could really start liking him & that wasn’t yet okay, for myself or for him.  A harbinger of impulse decisions & symbolic actions, I allowed him to come inside of me, his colossal ecstasy written all over his face & coming out of his strikingly formed mouth.

After all was said & compromised, we went out for a cigarette, sweating in the morning sun.  I couldn’t believe that it was only a quarter after ten in the morning.  We got into his car & he drove me to the deli.

Exiting his car he told me to text him when I went on my three-hour break, intending that we might go back to his place again.  All through work I was chipper, sleepy & disorganized from the weed but in great spirits.  I confided to Claudia what had transpired, as she & Derek are the closest thing to friends I have here.  She smiled, happy for me, telling me that all of the Mexican girls on the line there had crushes on him “because he looks like a man.”  I smiled to myself, knowing the full extent to which he was, in fact, a man.  Boss was working with me as well, but I barely noticed through the thoughts of the Italian, the image of his head between my legs eradicating any lasting remnants of the crush I had on Boss.  My break didn’t come as early as I’d hoped, so we didn’t end up going to his house for a couple of stolen hours.  He did however send me another picture of his erection, “just to let you know I’m thinking of you.  I quickly closed the text, laughing & hoping none of my coworkers saw this.

When he came into work we made a lot of eye contact, secret smiles behind them, flirting as casually as we usually do, thrilling that no one had any idea of what our morning consisted of.  I’d make up some excuse to grab something he was standing in the way of, “Oh, excuuuuse me,” I’d say sweetly, leaning my whole body against his to reach for what I could have easily asked him to hand me, just to make him stop & smile at me, amused.  So much eye contact, double entendres, my stomach in knots.  Even texting each other when he was out on deliveries.

It was arranged that I would go to his place when I got off work, he would drop me off & head back when the store called him in for another delivery.  He picked me up at the coffee place when he went on break, & we drove to his apartment.  We smoked again, & again he pulled me against him, lying down on his couch.  I listened to him talk for a long while, fascinated with what he had to say, & he had quite a bit to say on any topic that came up.  Honestly, I was still somewhat surprised that what he had to say was so interesting.  Then we were kissing again, he was pulling my shirt off & telling me I was so shy, I needn’t hide my body.  Saying all of these things I’d craved to hear.  Because of this I was not so shy, I didn’t feel constantly self-conscious, I opened up a lot more to him & allowed more access than I have in years.  He slid his hand down my pants, a big grin on his face, “How are you so wet already?”  He carried me naked to his bed again, laying me across his blankets, pinning my arms over my head.  As he drove into me he was kissing me, telling me I was so tight, making me cry out with pleasure.

We began talking a lot afterward out on his deck with our cigarettes.  Telling each other about our lives.  How he grew up, about his parents, little stories here & there.  I disclosed the big bad about the baby.  He accepted it easily, didn’t comment much upon it.  I started liking him then.  More than I wanted.  He sat on my lap, looking down at me, bending to kiss me with his hands on both sides of my face.  That smile.  He took me home, & along the way I told him how I’d been surprised at how eloquent I found him to be & how much he’d had to say.  “How do I come off?” he asked defensively, smiling sideways.  I told him about how moody I’d thought he appeared at first, how I’d thought he didn’t like me.  Then the day I saw him outside of his work clothes, in a meeting at the deli, how I’d started finding him unbearably sexy, & so I began flirting with him.  He told me he was surprised I’d ended up being so intelligent, at which I smiled.  When he pulled up to the apartment he gave me one more long, deep kiss & I went up to my bed, still smiling.

Texting throughout the day today, he sent me another nude, “just for you.”  He was masturbating, thinking of me.  Then I realized I’d left my journal at his place.  He said he didn’t read it.  He’s been completely honest & forthright & unapologetically blunt about everything else up to this point, so I should believe him.  But outside of Max I’ve never come across anyone I felt I could leave my journal in the presence of without believing they would read it.  This disturbs me, as I believe it would mean the end of this.  Should that be the case, I will be bummed, but still appreciative of the fact that this boy made me feel better than I have in a long, long time.  He’s been hands down the best lover I’ve had since Ryan, & it’s only been a day.

Fuck.  I don’t want this to end.