#Broken Road Productions

[terra-is-tired]

guess who fell off their skateboard yesterday

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[goodpix2021]

Four Days Gone

[babbymochiiii]

🔞MINE: JOHNNY SUH

synopsis: 'you're mine, even if i'm not supposed to make you mine'; where you and your bodyguard have a heated argument while you're at the club with your friends. warnings: afab reader, bodyguard!johnny, "business relationship", reader is a public figure of some sorts, pwp, johnny being a meany, fingering/oral (f), p in v, hair pulling, cumming inside, nipple play, breast play, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms for reader, name calling (brat), sweet names for her (baby, angel), etc. author's note: @jsuh for the gif! @rookthornesartistry for the divider! this fic has come to life bc of a daydream i had due to me reading a bodygaurdxclient story 😖 and let's just say it's lowkey self indulgent just cause of the fact that it was a daydream *sweats* it was hot...so i had to share with yall. also, i'm still working on the lee line fic as we speak just the production of it is rlly slow for me at the point cause i'm hitting a big bump in the road for it. so please hang tight! word count: 4.6k

anon ask related to this post!

NOW PLAYING: 1. if i didn't know better by MACK LOREN 2. PROMISES by EMO

"Hey babes, just want to let you know that your bodyguard is staring mad hard over here." Your friend yelled over the booming music the club was playing as the two of you stood at the bar.   

Looking over your shoulder— just as she said— you can find your bodyguard with his bulging arms crossed over his chest as he sulks in the corner he is in while sending you a hard look from across the club.   

You rolled your eyes at him, before turning around at your friend as you waved a hand between the two of you, dismissing the topic of him entirely. "Forget about him. He's just mad I ended up doing what I wanted without listening to his security measures." You said to her as you rolled your eyes again.  

Your friend gave you an unnerving look before turning her expression back to her drink. "You know—" She stops herself quickly as she felt her face heat up at the words. "—it looks like he wants to eat you alive." She said as she took a quick swing of her fruity drink.   

You arched an eyebrow at her words before a laugh leaves your lips. Causing her face and the tips of her ears to turn red in embarrassment.   

"Are you serious?" You asked her as you chuckled at the silly accusation she made. 

"I mean, his eyes won't leave you no matter what. And on top of it he looked like he wanted to kill the guy that tried to buy you a drink earlier." She said as she played with the rim of her glass.   

You felt your heart thump harder in your chest at her words. But they were just that. Words. Nothing that she says can be true about your bodyguard. Johnny Suh. The bodyguard that was assigned to you due to your agency fussing over your safety because of some unknown person creating threats towards you.   

From the moment you first met, you have been awe struck at his appearance. The way he towered over you, the expressionless look on his face as he looked down at you, the way the black compressed shirt he wore hugged his fit figure, the black jeans he wore how they hugged his large thighs during your first meeting had you clenching your thighs together tightly as you felt yourself become attracted to him.   

No matter how much you tried to drown yourself in some company, or your own, he was always on your mind. Everything about him and the things you wanted to do with him. But you knew there was a border you couldn't cross with him. That was the rule...but who cared about the rules, right? They were meant to be broken.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

Your heart couldn't stop the heavy beating in your chest at the thought of him. You realized you haven't answered your friend and sought out your response as quickly as you could. "There's nothing there, for any of us." You tried not to sound as breathless as you feel as you responded to her. "Besides, it can be the number of fruity cocktails you've been having since we got to the club." You remarked with a smirk.  

"Hey!" She laughed as she gave you a playful shove. "They are good as hell, okay." She said as she downed the rest of her drink in one go. "Anyways, let's go dance!" She giggled as she took hold of your hand and dragged you to the middle of the dance floor.  

Deciding to go with the flow for the night, you followed your friend's lead and started to dance with her. As the two of you danced, having a good time and just laughing at one another over a silly dance move, a sultry song came on.   

You and your friend danced close to one another as you both felt the beat of the music course through your body, completely taking control over the two of you.   

Suddenly, you felt someone come up from behind you and wrap their arm around your waist and bringing you closer to them. The person tried to make you grind against them, but you weren't having it.   

You turned around and pushed at the man's chest. He held onto your waist tightly, refusing to release you from his hold.   

"Let me go fucker!" You yelled as you continued to push at him but all he did was smirk at you as you continued to try and push him away.   

"I believe she told you to let her go." A cold voice speaks out beside you.   

Chills rake through your body, as you look towards Johnny's towering form, as he looked towards the man holding you with narrowed slits for eyes. A warning before a reaction.   

"And what is it to you?" The man laughs as he tightened his grip on your waist, causing you to whimper out in pain.   

Nothing was said on Johnny's end at the man's remark, as he took hold of the man's bicep and held it in a vice grip. This caused the man to let go of you as he tried to pry Johnny's hand with his free hand.  

"Let her go before I fuck you up." Johnny says in a cool, neutral tone, as if this was any other night.   

"Man fuck—" the rest of the man's words were lost as Johnny sent a straight punch to the man's nose. The man wails in pain as he clutches to his now broken nose, where blood started to drip down in a cascade.   

"We're leaving." Johnny said as he took hold of your arm and started to drag you off the dance floor, and away from your friend.   

You looked back at your friend, to which she sends you a wide eye look as she didn't know what to do in the situation.   

"Let me go Johnny! I want to enjoy the night with my friend!" You yelled out as you tried to pry his hold off your arm.   

"It's not safe here and I'd rather not watch you dance with other people and drink yourself away." He said in a harsh tone as he pulled you down the secluded hallway the club has that leads you to the entrance/exist.   

"Fuck off, Johnny! I want to be here. You're always ruining everything! Why can't you let me be!?" You yelled as you felt your anger get the best of you.  

Johnny stops in his steps, before he slowly turns towards you with his own expression of evident anger. "I'm doing my job here. Stop being a fucking brat and listen." He seethed out as he started to walk closer to you, causing you to back up against the wall. He corners you with his towering form.   

"You never fucking listen to what I say to you. And look—" he said as he placed both of his hands on each side of your head. "—it gets you in trouble every. Fucking. Time. And who comes after you?" He questioned you.  

"You—"   

"Exactly. I'm the one saving your bratty ass."   

You were stunned into silence as you looked at the way he breathed heavily after his remark. You felt your chest move up and down to the same rhythm as his. You would be an idiot, if you tried to deny the way you felt a sudden rush of moisture collect in your underwear.   

The look he was giving you made you release a small gasp as you saw what your friend was telling you.   

Pure hunger.   

He looked like he wanted to eat you alive as you looked up at him. You felt your body quiver in chills that causes you to arch your back, causing your hardened nipples to graze lightly against his chest through your thin dress.   

Something seems to snap within him because before you know it, he's gripping the base of your neck and pulling you roughly against his lips.  

Nothing about the kiss was gentle at all. It was all tongue, teeth, and fighting for dominance. This kiss was pure pent-up tension between the two of you, that has been set in place since your first meeting.  

You wrapped your hands around his neck. Your hands tangled themselves in his long black locks as he pulled you closer to him. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip causes you to moan loudly at the pleasuring pain that coursed through you.   

He pulled away from the kiss and placed his hand on your lower back. “Come with me.” He said in a low tone as he started to guide you to the club’s bathroom for a more private, and secluded moment.   

Once he held the bathroom door open, he gently pushed you in before he followed suit locking the door in the process.   

You looked up towards Johnny in a breathless state. The whole ordeal was dizzying. You can’t wrap your mind around the events playing in front of you right now. Johnny started to stalk towards you causing you once again to walk backwards until your middle back hit the bathroom’s counter. You looked behind you for a split second, to which Johnny takes the moment you are distracted to lift you up on the counter.   

His placement of his hands on your thighs causes goosebumps to rise and place themselves along the rest of your legs as you felt him gently pull them apart as he placed his body between them.   

“Do you know what you do to me?” Johnny asked as he looked at you with such intense heat that you swear his eyes were intense pools of brown. 

“I —no.” you answered weakly as you looked up at him with doe-like eyes that makes him curse inwardly as he continued his intense stare down.  

Without breaking eye contact, he takes hold of one of your trembling hands and places it on his very evident, aching cock that fights to be released from their tight hold.  

A gasp leaves your lips as you look down at where your hand is. With a trembling breath that escapes your lungs, you look up towards Johnny and see the same hungered look in his eyes.  

“This is what you do to me. From the first moment we met. You have changed everything I stand and believe in.” He purred in a low voice as he squeezed the hand that is on his clothed cock.  

You moaned quietly as you felt the way his cock jumped in your hand. With the way your chest was rising and falling at such a rapid pace, you could swear you weren’t breathing as you basked in the feeling that surrounded the two of you.  

You took your other hand and started to trace it up the arm that held onto your thigh. In the wake of your path, you saw goosebumps following your hand. You continued the path up his bicep and to his shoulder. Once at the top, you followed your hand as it slowly traced down his chest, where his racing heart was trying to escape his chest.   

Johnny started to trace small circles with his thumb in your inner thigh. It was as if a fire had suddenly gone ablaze within your very nervous system as it started to consume your whole being.  

“If we do this —” Johnny cuts himself off as he heard how breathless he sounded. Clearing his throat he continued. “If we do this, there is no going back. You are mine. No other man can touch you. Your body is mine.” He said as he placed his other hand on your thigh while pressing his hands into your skin. “—your pussy is mine. Do you understand?” He says as he leans down and traces your jaw with his nose. 

“Johnny...please.” You whimpered out as you felt yourself getting desperate for his touch.  

“Tell me.” He said as he tangled his hand into your hair.  

When you didn’t answer him back quickly — it was more like you were speechless in what to say to him, you were in awe — he pulled at the roots of your hair tightly, pulling your head back so you were forced to make eye contact with him. “Tell me, angel.”  

“I’m yours...fuck, Johnny I’m yours.” You cried out as you placed your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you where your lips grazed one another's.  

Without missing a beat, Johnny claims your mouth with the same feverish want. It didn’t feel like you were breathing at all as you let him claim your mouth. You felt the strands of his long hair tickle against your forehead as he presses himself further into you. Johnny’s hands release their hold on your thigh and move them to the bunched-up fabric of your dress. He pushes it up further, showcasing your black lacey thong. Along with the obscene amount of slick coming out from your entrance.  

Johnny’s fingers grazed along your clad folds causing for a moan to leave your mouth and for you to entrap your legs around his slim waist. You felt the sensitivity of your core race up through your body making it become such a high sensing feeling. Seeing the way, you reacted causes for a grunt to leave Johnny’s throat as he starts to cascade down your throat with bites and kisses.  

Distracted by the sensation on your neck, you’ve failed to notice Johnny pushing aside your underwear. The sensation of his callous fingers gliding in-between your folds, makes you pull away from the kiss with a gasp as you look down at him collecting your slick, lubricating his fingers before inserting two fingers into your waiting entrance.  

The stretch of his fingers was both pleasures inducing but brought some pain. Tears brimmed your water line as you tried to accommodate the feel of his fingers.  

“Cryin’ already? What are you gonna do when you take my cock?” Johnny teases as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. “You’re gonna take it like a good girl. Right, angel?” He says as he started to thrust his fingers in faster.  

“Y-yes! Oh—” You moaned out as you felt his fingers start to jerk up inside of you, hitting the spot you deliciously.  

Still fingering you with the fast pace he has going, Johnny uses his free hand to scoot you closer to the counter’s edge where he then went down on his knees and used his mouth to suck on your clit.  

The sensation of his mouth wrapped around your clitoral hood, has you raising your hips off the counter and trying to get closer to his mouth as it made rockets go off in your nerves with a semi-scream moan.  

Not taking his mouth off of where he wanted it most at, he pushes your hips down back onto the counter, and holds them with his free hand. “Never tasted anything so fuckin’ sweet like this.” Johnny moans out as he bit his bottom lip while looking down at your spit-glossed clit and the way his fingers started to have slick cascade down them.  

You were so close to losing it — you were that close to actually losing it completely — he goes down on you again, this time moving his head side to side as his tongue sticks out, collecting all of your sweet juices. The feelings in your legs start to feel like mush as the tightening feeling at the base of your spine continues to build up.  

As if he couldn’t get enough of you, Johnny pulls you closer off the edge to where your hips almost completely hang off of the counter, as a deep husky groan leaves his lips as he felt you gush even more on his tongue. You took one of your hands and glided it against the strands of his dark hair, slightly massaging his scalp before giving it a tug.  

An approved groan leaves his throat as he pushes himself closer to you. His tongue gliding up and down your folds before probing at your entrance where his fingers continue to pump in and out of you. With his tongue joining his fingers, he felt your pussy pulse against his digits causing him to give you a smug smirk. “Such a cute heartbeat baby. Are you gonna cum on my fingers for me?” Johnny said as he looked up at you as he continued his delicious movements.

You gave him a delirious nod of your head as tears started to fall from your eyes at the sensation of being so close to your release.  

“Then come.”  

With just those two words, you felt the tether within you snap with your hips lifting up and your grip on Johnny’s hair tightening while a cry leaves your lips as you come.  

Johnny keeps thrusting his fingers slowly to help you through your orgasm, and with his tongue he laps up your release, leaving you all clean...for now.  

As you gasped for the much-needed air in your lungs, through your half-lidded eyes you see Johnny get up and unzip the zipper of his jeans. With a slight haste in his moves, he unbuttons his jeans and releases his weeping cock out of the tight hold they were in.  

His cock was such a pretty sight to look at. His tip such a flushed pink and leaking pre-cum, and the vein that pulses so meanly along his long, girthy length you felt yourself gush all over again as you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth.  

“Get off of the counter for me angel.” Johnny says in a gentle tone, but the command laid in the undertone.  

Doing as he says, you get off the counter and look up at him, awaiting what he wants you to do next. Both you and Johnny look at one another as each watched the way your chests rise and fall in heavy breaths. You watched the way your arousal and release glistened on his lips and chin. Seeing the way you looked at him made him subconsciously lick his lips.  

Ignoring the way his cock is begging to seethe itself inside of you, Johnny takes hold of your face with both of his hands, kissing you once more. He couldn’t get enough of how your lips tasted. You tasted yourself on his lips and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

Johnny pulls away from the kiss and pulls you around where you are facing the bathroom mirror. In the reflection you saw the way your makeup was running a little bit, and the way you looked so blissed out from your orgasm. The moment you looked up towards Johnny’s reflection, you felt yourself clenching around nothing. Lust, hooded eyes looked back at you through the mirror.  

You felt Johnny press himself against you. His warm and throbbing cock resting against your ass, you pressed yourself further into him. A groan leaves his lips as he looks down at the way your plump ass wants to suck his length in-between them.  

Johnny then leans in towards your ear, another smirk playing on his lips. “Be a good girl and take it, yeah?” He says as he takes the side of your ear into his mouth delivering a small nip causing chills and goosebumps to course through your body.  

You then see Johnny pull himself up, spit onto his hand before he guides it down to his length and pumps himself — getting it ready for your weeping entrance — all through the mirror. The fact that he was about to fuck you in front of mirror had your mind doing all sorts of somersaults as you edge towards that feral feeling growing larger than life in your chest.  

Johnny takes hold of the base of his cock and starts to align it to your entrance. He teases your entrance with his tip, slowly putting it in before he pulls it out. This causes you to whimper at his teasing, but all it does is draw a chuckle from him as he glides his cock in-between your folds.  

The fat of his head hits your clit in continuous glides that almost makes you see stars.  

“Johnny please —” you cry out as you hang your head down as you tried not to cry over the edging feeling he gives you.  

“Please what? Use your big girl voice for me angel.” Johnny teases as he continued his teasing.  

“Johnny please fuck me! P-please fu—” the rest of your sentence falls into a scream as you felt Johnny thrust his hard length into your entrance in one go.  

The burning sensation of the obscene stretch he gave you made your toes curl as he started to fuck you slowly, letting you somewhat get used to his size.  

“What was that?” Johnny laughed as he saw the way the lustful blush takes over your face and chest. You instantly felt yourself getting dumb on his cock as he pounded into you so meanly.  

The way your walls sucked him in drove the two of you crazy. You felt the way his vein pulsed within you that it made you clench down onto him. Johnny swore under his breath at the tight feeling you were creating around his pulsing length. 

“Fuck — keep clenching me like that angel and I'm not gonna last long for you.” Johnny said as he held onto your hips tightly.

Incoherent words fall from your lips as you savored the delicious feeling of Johnny’s cock gliding in and out of your sopping entrance. Johnny traced his hand up from its place on your hips and brought it to the front of your dress. He pulls the fabric down, causing your breast to spill out from their hold. Johnny takes both of your breasts and places them into each hand of his, giving them both a squeeze causing the two of you to moan. Johnny takes one of your hardened nipples between his fingertips and pinches it.  

Moan, after moan leaves your lips as the sensations your bodyguard is giving you. Behind the noise of your moans, you could hear the sound of skin slapping against one another and the squelching sounds coming out from your entrance.  

You felt a hand wrap around your hair and tug it backwards making you look into the mirror to already see Johnny looking at you with such a lustful look you honestly believe you could cum on the spot.  

“Look at me as I fuck this pretty pussy of your angel.” He speaks roughly as he continues to plough into you. “Look at how. You. Take. It.” Johnny emphasizes with each hard thrust into you.  

You bit your lips as you watched the way Johnny started to get lost within your wet walls. You saw the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he tossed his head back, relishing the feeling. It was like seeing a switch flip within his mind as he looked down at the connection between the two of you.  

Johnny's hair fell in his face and started to stick to his sweaty skin as he started to deliver merciless thrusts into your abused whole that it had you on your tippytoes.   

“Fuckin’ take it. Take it like the good girl that you are baby.” Johnny groans out as he heard your cry of how good he’s hitting your walls.  

Johnny snaked his hand around your waist and down to your front. His fingertips started to press down onto your clit and moving them side to side, causing you to moan out loudly.  

“Whose pussy does it belong to?” Johnny questioned as he continued his movements on your swollen clit.  

“Y-you — oh God!” you moaned out as he started to hit that one spot inside of you making you see stars. 

A jolted slap was heard in the room as Johnny’s hand came down on your clit with a sharp slap. A cry-like moan falls from your lips as you push yourself back against Johnny.  

“Whose does it belong to?” Johnny said again as he delivered three more slaps in a row to your stinging clit. 

“You! Fuck — you do Johnny!” you cried out as you started to feel the same tightness feeling at the base of your spine start to coil.  

“That’s fucking right. You're my baby. This pussy is mine. Let me find out you’re letting another man touch what is mine and I’m going to mess you up.” Johnny seethes as he pounded into you even harder than before.  

The repetitive sensation of Johnny hitting your spot within your walls makes you see double the stars than before. “I’m gon—” Without warning you started to come around Johnny’s length. You felt your body shiver at how intense the orgasm was. Your legs started to shake as you started to feel the overstimulation take its course considering Johnny hasn’t relented to his intense pounding.  

Johnny was so close to his release as he continued to pound into you even as you tightened yourself up. He continued to stimulate your overly abused clit, drawing cries from you. “Give me one more angel. Just one more for me.” Johnny said as he sounded restless trying to get that one last orgasm for himself.  

“Nngh! S-so full and—and big! Feel so good!” You cried out as tears started to fall from your eyes as the overstimulation started to take its course officially through your body.  

“That’s right baby, fuck — I make you feel so good.” Johnny said in between his teeth as he felt his balls tighten up, ready to release their load.  

“Where do you want me to come angel?” Johnny asked as he wrapped his hand around your throat, as he looked at your fucked out expression through the mirror.  

“Inside of me! Please, please, please.” You begged as you made eye contact with Johnny through the mirror. The way your eyes glistened with unshed tears, the flush on your face, the way your hair clung onto your sweaty forehead, and just the fucked outlook you were giving him was enough to make him blow his load inside of you.  

Strings of curses left Johnny’s lips as his stomach clenched and thighs shake slightly as he let go inside of you completely. The feeling of his sticky ropes painting your walls, caused you to go into your third orgasm of the night.  

As the two of you rode out your highs together, the weight of the situation between the two of you started to settle within the two of you. As Johnny pulled himself out, cleaning you and him in the process, a deathifying silence fell. You weren’t sure how to approach the topic. Do you say this was a one-time thing or are you guys actually together now?  

“What I said about you being mine —” Johnny says as he helps you straighten your dress out and clean a bit of the running makeup on your face. “—I meant it.” He says in a gentle tone.  

The moment those words left his words, you felt breathless at his slight confession. “Johnny I —”  

“Please spare me if you’re going to reject me after all this.” He said as he played with a lock of your hair. 

“I was going to say, I understood what you meant.” You said as you placed your hands on his chest, closing the slight gap between the two of you. “I don’t want someone else when I have you.”  

Johnny leaned down and you met him halfway where the two of you shared a passionate kiss, sealing the promise you have for one another.

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 9

Word Count ~ 5.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ doppelgänger sex, body horror

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

taglist ~ @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp @kaislashes @charli33-b33 @finalitgirl

Francis Mosses’ route is almost done for the day.

He normally started with the farthest destinations first and then worked his way backwards, finishing close to his home in the DDD sanctioned apartments.

But there had been a last minute add on, sending him back out again, further from the city and into the suburbs. He’s tired, as always, the early start to each shift, the thin walls of the building that do nothing to suppress the activities of his neighbors taking their toll. He rubs at the drowsy lids that keep insisting on shutting. Almost finished. Just this last one. Humming to keep awake. He should stop on the way home, pick up something for dinner. But that would mean delaying his return. Did he have the energy to even cook?

He’s thinking about you, the pretty young woman that guards the entrance now. The best part of his day. He should get you flowers. Say something, anything, instead of just polite formalities. Maybe today would be the day he found enough courage to express his feelings.

A little more alert now. His eyes flick to the paper on his clipboard. Yes, nearly there. He’s not familiar with this road. The houses are not as well kept. Some even look abandoned. Overgrown lawns. Broken windows. A tendril of misgiving curling around him. Something felt wrong. Maybe he should just say he couldn’t find the address. Offer up this part of the route to someone else working for the company.

But what if the person really needed it? It wasn’t fair to discriminate, was it? That sense of duty keeps his right foot pressed on the pedal. He’s going to finish the job.

He’s reached his destination. It’s difficult to see the numbers, half hidden by the weeds threatening to overtake the mailbox. At least the window panes are intact in this dwelling. Curtains cover the interior completely. The entire home is encased in shadow, darkness that seems to sap the sunlight from above.

The milkman shuts off the engine, easing out of his seat. He’s a little stiff from the long drive, the lateness of his shift. He touches one ear to a shoulder, repeating the process for the opposite side. A satisfying series of cracks. The rear compartment slides open and he lifts the wire rack from storage. The sun is strong against his back, a little perspiration making the white material of his workshirt cling to his skin. He’s suddenly craving something cold to drink. Maybe he should just invite you out. There would be enough time before curfew. Sodas at the local diner. He imagines you blushing that pretty pink shade, your hand covering your mouth. Shyly accepting his proposal.

Francis isn’t really paying attention to the cement walkway he’s traveling on that leads to the front door, ignoring the crab grass poking through the seams of each concrete slab. He doesn’t spare a glance for the peeling paint of the clapboards, the tarnish of the metal doorbell. The door creaks open and he’s got a smile on his face, his customary greeting for customers combined with thoughts of you. Just a heartbeat shy of reacting in time to who—what— waits for him in that dim interior, the hand reaching for the handle of the basket changing course at the last moment, latching onto his wrist and dragging him inside, the basket falling from his fingers, the glass shattering, spilling dairy product over the entryway.

He’s pulled off balance, thrust to one side, barely managing to keep his head from cracking against the wooden floor. Subflooring, not even a proper finished layer. No furniture inside. The home was stripped bare, except for the heavy drapes over the windows, the last illumination from outdoors disappearing from view as the door slams shut. The air is stale, musty. He feels the dust beneath his fingertips. No one has been inside here for a long time.

He’s barely started to struggle to his feet before the creature is upon him. Doppelgänger, he thinks with panic. It has to be. Hands pin his wrists down to either side of his face, his body shoved down beneath the heavy weight of the invader.

It’s not the first time he’s encountered one directly.

Once, when he was younger, he’d gotten separated from his mother at the supermarket. Not paying attention, distracted by the array of goods on the shelves, lost in whatever daydream had overtaken him, until he’d felt the hand on his wrist, the hand that didn’t belong to his parent or a concerned employee or fellow customer, but a doppel. The feeling of claws digging in. Seeking to break the skin, to draw out some blood, just the smallest amount needed to copy his appearance. The pain before an off duty DDD member had thankfully intervened had been sharp, hot, an intensity he’s still never forgotten years later.

This was not that feeling. This is like being submerged into a warm bath, but the water was sticky, cloying. It hurt, but there was something pleasurable about it as well. A kind of numbing tranquility. Pressing against becoming pressing into.

Hold still.

The command said aloud, or in the depths of his mind, he can no longer tell. One last burst of adrenaline making him struggle. The quick, disdainful flick of a claw, the alien’s true appendage, dragging across his skin. He feels the flecks of blood spattering near his collar, hears the wet collisions with the starched fabric.

“God help me…”

The only part of a plea or prayer he can muster. There was no escaping this. He can feel the thing burrowing inside of him. How was it even possible? The doppels only cloned or consumed humans. This merging was something new.

He can feel it digging around in his brain. Sifting through his thoughts.

A DDD establishment resident? Challenging.

Your face. He focuses on it in his mind, recreating each detail of every feature. The scent of you. Summer flowers.

Who’s this?

Don’t hurt her. Don’t you dare—

The numbness has worn off. It is no longer a soothing feeling. He is burning from the inside.

I won’t let you harm anyone. If you’re going to be me, then be me. You’re not going to hurt anyone ever again.

Let me in. Let me in, stop resisting.

Forgive me.

What’s happening? Changing me, I’m not…

Not one or the other. Combining.

Something new.

***

“Francis, wake up.” The doppel’s eyes fly open. A moment of disorientation and panic visible on his features until his eyes find yours in the wan morning light spilling in through the farmhouse window. “I think you were having a nightmare.”

Your hand rests against his bare chest, feeling the pounding of his heart. What would an invader dream about that would make them so afraid? Being discovered? Destroyed?

He reaches a hand to touch your cheek. “Sweetheart.”

“I’m here, love. It’s okay. You’re okay.” You kiss the corner of his mouth. He turns his face slightly and captures your lips again. Hungry. Nipping at your bottom lip. He’s turning, rolling you beneath him.

“My love. Mine.” Tasting your neck. His palm warm and heavy as it dips beneath the scooped neckline of your nightgown. He rolls your nipples between his thumb and index finger, tugging lightly, bringing them into stiff peaks. You squirm, writhing beneath his touch, the mouth of your sex watering for him. Always so ravenous. You can never get enough.

You’re not wearing panties. It’s easy for a pair of fingers to slide right into that warm, wet tunnel. Your breath hisses. He steals the next one, his mouth covering yours. Your fingers wrap around his forearm as he begins sliding the probing digits in and out.

“I want to devour you.”

“Yes, Francis, please…”

“Eat you and then fuck you,” the copycat’s voice continues low beside your ear. “You’re mine.” A growl. His tone coarser. A little more of the doppel side of him showing. Possessive. Aggressive. Acting in retaliation to something in the dream he’d felt threatened by.

“I’m yours.” Your pelvis rocks up against his hand. “It’s you that I love, that my heart belongs to.”

“What’s inside…”

“Yes, what’s inside.”

“Mine forever.”

“Forever.”

He moans against your neck. A broken, human sound. Lips trembling. Pressed gently in a line down your body, the fingers still thrusting in and out, tongue darting out to taste between the petals of your flesh, nose digging into your mound as he grinds his mouth against your clit, sucking. Your hand is now buried in his hair, your eyes watching the way the rising sun filters through the lace curtains, dappled light and shadows painting your torso, lighting threads of gold and chocolate in his hair, on the fine hairs that cover his forearms. A haze blooms around him, a shining halo, a precursor to the pink tinged eyelids, the exploring fingers now withdrawn, claws just peeking out, hinting at what lies beneath, his tongue replacing that vacancy, no longer the short one belonging to the man whose body he inhabits but something serpentine teasing inside, unfurling, squirming, reaching deep, fangs teasing the pink flesh outside, the reddened invader’s eyes asking, begging for permission.

You’re terrified, exhilarated, he’s never been there before, not when he’s like this, he’d been so careful to not let the beast out and you haven’t pushed him, it’s only been a week but it feels like so much longer and you want it, gasping an affirmation, fingers tightening in his tresses. The sensation of being so thoroughly tasted, explored, consumed as the intruder’s teeth sink, pierce, lost in that pad of fat above the start of your sex, his tongue buried inside while he sucks, drawing your bundle of nerves taut against the roof of his mouth drives you right over the precipice, the back of your skull digging into the pillows as you keen, whine, whimper, he drags every desperate sound of pleasure he can from you until you can no longer stand it, overly sensitive, overwhelmed, quaking as you see the rising face of Francis Mosses, no longer giving way to the monster inside.

His next kisses on your mouth are gentle, allowing you to recover, stroking your shoulder, carding through your hair.

“Where did you go,” you murmur, suddenly feeling languid, relaxed, your extremities tingling pleasantly in your post orgasmic state.

“You’re not afraid at all?”

“A little. But I trust you. I know you’d never hurt me.”

“It’s difficult to stop it.”

“So don’t,” you challenge.

“Oh, love, we’ve talked about this. I can’t…”

“Kiss me with that mouth. Your real one…”

“You want that?”

“I want you. I love you.”

“Sweetheart…” His tongue spears your mouth. Still human, still holding back.

You reach down, caressing his hardened cock. “What were you dreaming about? Tell me, I’ll chase them away. Won’t let anyone hurt you…”

“Hnggh…” He moans, his breath quickening. His body shifts, his erection nudging your entrance, your splayed legs tightening around him as he penetrates you, his mouth close to yours. “I was dreaming about the past. The day it happened, when I took Francis. He changed me when I went inside him. Weak body but strong mind. Faith. His feelings for you. I was terrified of being lost in that union. Sharing, merging…unmaking and rebuilding my identity. The way that feels, coming apart like that…”

You gasp and he settles his hips against yours, resting his weight there for a moment, buried inside of you. “He made me want to be him. I couldn’t resist. I’d never wanted anything so badly. Until I met you. The want I have for you, love. The sheer ache of it. I would do anything for you. Risk anything, give anything. You have become my entire world, my universe. The thought of losing you, because of a momentary slip of the reins, because of something I’ve done…I can’t bear it.”

You swallow past the lump forming in your throat. You’d asked him about Francis’ end so many times, halting after he’d stated it would be the end of your reason for he, the doppelgänger, to be with you. But that wasn’t true anymore, was it? Because you’d fallen in love with him. And you felt the same way. You’d risk anything, give anything to be with him. And now you know the truth of it. Why this doppelgänger was so different from the others. Different, because the human whose body he’d taken had irrevocably changed him. Altering his goals, his desires. Tempering the craving for annhilation. Seeking a more peaceful integration. A life with you. The milkman’s final gift.

“I know why you’re scared. I won’t try to push you. I just love you so, so much. I want you to know that.”

“Sweet girl,” he sighs. He’s blocking most of the sunlight now, his face looming above yours. “Just a little. I’ll try…”

You nod. “Let me feel you, love.”

His hips lift. Creeping out of you inch by inch. His eyes changing again. Jaw shifting, mouth evolving. A ripple across the surface of his stretched lips. Teeth parting. He’s entering you again, his cock mirroring the violation of the alien tongue now probing yours. Still gentle, cautious. Your flavor there. Closing your lips over this new shape and texture. Still muscular, smoother, thicker until it tapers at the end, coiling around yours.

Your body is on fire, your earlier release already forgotten as you roll your hips against his. A rough groan. The hand cupping the side of your waist tightens, thumb digging into your flesh. Every time his body collides with yours, the pressure against the bite he’s inflicting sends waves of pleasure through you, your swollen cunt throbbing around his prick.

You’re whining again, a needy, pitiful sound hummed around that foreign tongue invading your mouth, curling and stroking, sharp teeth dripping saliva down onto your lips, sliding over your chin and down your neck.

Then it is Francis’ mouth hovering over yours again, his soft brown eyes gazing into yours as he sheaths and withdraws over and over, a little crooked grin of triumph, pleased he’s done it, he’s maintained control.

“My bride to be, my future wife…” The words becoming temporarily incomprehensible, his face burrowing against your neck. “Forever…eternal…I am yours…” He’s looking into your eyes as he cums, filling you with hot spurts of seed, everything in that gaze begging, pleading, that this will be the time, the future he wants to conceive inside of you coming to fruition at last.

***

You’re watching Francis Mosses’ doppelgänger in the mirror.

Hair tidy, side parted, slicked into place. Dressed in a button front shirt and slacks. Freshly shaved. You love watching him get ready. The care and attention he gives the process. Wanting everything to be proper. Perfect.

“I believe I’m ready. What do you think?” He turns to face you.

“Very dapper. I’m sure everyone will be very envious when they see you leading me inside the theater.”

“I think it will be more the other way around. Beautiful,” he murmurs, admiring your dress, your lips and nails painted to match, a deep, dark shade of red. “And what is underneath this loveliness, I wonder?” His fingers tuck beneath the neckline of your dress, trying to sneak a peak at your lingerie.

“If you start that, we’re never going to make it out the door.”

“Would that really be so terrible?”

“After, Francis,” you reprimand gently. You’re not used to rejecting him. But you think it will be good for both of you to get outside, have a date together. You want him to enjoy every element of the human experience. So much of what he knows is based on war, on violence. Sometimes you yourself get so caught up in your work you forget what it is you’re struggling so hard to protect. Not just lives, but the quality of those lives. You want the best for those residents you guard.

You want the best for your fiancé, too.

***

You’re screened at the entrance of the theater.

It’s nowhere near the level of scrutiny you provide working for the DDD; the likelihood of doppels wanting to infiltrate an old movie house was very unlikely. The bored looking attendant barely glances at your ID’s before waving you through.

“That man is terrible at his job,” your beau murmurs as you enter the theater, heading towards a pair of seats near the back row. There aren’t many people present; perhaps lured by the nice weather outdoors. Enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon. “Maybe we should have started the invasion here.”

“Francis!” He’s not speaking loudly, but you look around hurriedly. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I’m only teasing, love.” He wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss against your temple. “No one’s listening, anyway. I’m sorry. It was in poor taste,” he apologizes, seeing your persistent scowl. “Forgive me?”

You tuck your dress beneath you before taking your seat. “I’m not cross with you, I’m just worried.” You didn’t want to draw any attention. As much as you like being out in public like this with the invader, you had to keep reminding yourself that you’re still at war. He’s still seen as the enemy, and no amount of declarations of affection for you would ever convince the DDD of his innocence. It was dangerous for both of you.

“Stop worrying. You’re meant to be having fun. Relax and enjoy this,” he whispers beside your ear. “No one knows. We’re okay.”

You try to comply, willing your furrowed brow to straighten. This had been your idea, after all. He was right. No one was paying any attention to you. Everyone present was seated in front of you, all facing the curtain shrouded film screen. Your doppel’s arm curls around your shoulders and you let yourself melt against him, the tension easing. Trying to recapture some of that feeling you have when you’re together at the farmhouse, away from the city, away from prying eyes. Your own little safe haven.

At last the heavy drapes shift aside, revealing the screen beneath. The sound of murmured conversation is extinguished, the only noise the occasional rattle of a straw in a cup, fingers digging into a box of candy or bag of popcorn. You have some chocolate in your purse. You withdraw it now, thumb dragging along the paper wrapper, trying to be quiet as the film begins.

The Warner Brothers logo appears. Then there is a map overlaid with the opening credits before the focus shifts to a rotating globe. You glance at your companion. His eyes are fixed on the screen. There was the invader’s original goal, so tantalizingly out of reach, that objective shifting to a very normal life with you, pretending to be human.

You squirm a little restlessly in your seat. The copycat’s thumb strokes your shoulder. “Easy, love. It’s okay.” His breath hot by your ear. “I love you.”

The words instantly soothe you. You manage to tear the foil and extract a piece of chocolate, already starting to melt. It was warm inside the theater. You offer it to your companion, watching his features as he takes the rectangular sweet between his teeth, breaking off a section and chewing, considering. “Good. Not as good as the jam. Not as good as you, but nothing is,” he whispers, mouth pressed close to your ear again. He accepts the remainder and his tongue darts out to taste your fingers, reminding you of the previous morning, when he’d invaded you with his real one, your pussy and your mouth teased with it, the familiar warm pulse between your legs asking for more.

You struggle to return your attention to the screen, absently slotting the next piece of candy into your own mouth.

It’s different watching the film again now that you’re older, in a serious relationship. The sheer ache of the tragedy of it all. The woman thinking her husband was dead, killed trying to escape a concentration camp. Falling in love with another man. Leaving abruptly to nurse her spouse back to health after learning he’d survived. The bitter conflict of the backdrop of the world war. Meeting again. Forced to choose between both men she loved. The nightclub owner insisting she leave, promising she’d regret it if she didn’t, a famous line of dialogue that was so often quoted.

It’s impossible not to see some parallels with your own romance. Choosing between Francis and the doppelgänger. A war that encompassed the world, this one not with other nations within that globe but alien invaders. What was the greater sin, betraying your heart or betraying the human race?

You’re quiet as you leave the theater, squinting against the dazzling sun outside. Francis’ doppel offers to drive your car and you let him, staring out the passenger window, watching the brick and mortar surrender to the trees and fields you’ve been missing already.

“This melancholy concerns me.”

You turn to find the milkman’s copy staring at you, eyes darting occasionally to check the road ahead. Empty, as it so often was.

“I’m sorry. I meant to ask if you enjoyed the film.”

“I enjoyed being with you. I always do.” He focuses once more on the path, steering around a deep dip in the ground. “That’s the hole the truck struggled with,” he murmurs. You’re so accustomed to it your body runs on autopilot, maneuvering around it without even thinking. “You’re worried about us being discovered.”

You chew on your bottom lip, silently cursing yourself. “I didn’t want to ruin the experience for you.”

“You didn’t, love.” One hand leaves the steering wheel to cup your cheek.

“I don’t want to get caught. It would kill me to lose you. Absolutely destroy me. I can’t, Francis. I can’t lose you twice.”

You’re jostled as the car abruptly leaves the road, pulling into one of the fields near your house. The doppel hurriedly shifts the gears into park, cutting the engine with a rough turn of the key. He turns to you, one arm resting on the back of the bench seating. “Listen to me. You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going to let anything happen to either of us.”

“You don’t know that, though. Sooner or later someone is bound to find out.”

“Leave the DDD.”

“Francis, we’ve talked about this.”

“Leave the DDD and move in with me. Here. At the farm. Or wherever you want. Just get away from all this.”

“Francis…”

“Be with me. Please, love.” His fingers curl around the side of your neck, his lips brushing yours. “I couldn’t do it. I could never give you up like Rick did with Ilsa in the movie. You’d be safer without me, but how could I ever want that, how…”

“I love you. I’d never leave you. Never.” You kiss him, your mouth rough against his. His tongue strokes yours and the heat you’d experienced in your core earlier returns. Your fingers break through the carefully coiffed stiff strands of hair, returning them to their natural, untidy form. His fingers work on the buttons of your dress, his mouth now laving at that exposed patch of skin below your throat.

You’re so close to home, but it’s impossible to wait just those few more minutes, exiting the car, allowing your body to be pressed down into the fragrant grass. He strokes up your thigh, nudging aside the fabric draped over you, a little hum of appreciation escaping when he feels the new satin that covers you.

You’ve never owned so many pairs of lingerie, so different from the standard fare you’d worn before. You like the feel of it clinging to those intimate places, like the reaction of the doppel every time he reveals them, like unwrapping a gift, fingers shifting each piece, palming your breasts, your sex. He makes love to you under that open blue sky, in that clear air that’s just starting to turn a little cooler as the afternoon bows to evening.

Back at the house, you’re assisted in preparing dinner, steak and baked potatoes and green beans while Perry Como croons in the background.

Till the end of time

Long as stars are in the blue

Long as there's a spring, a bird to sing

I'll go on loving you

“Move in with me,” the pretender says again, drying his hands on a dish towel, then slotting his hands on your waist after you’ve finished sliding the potatoes into the oven. “I want this every night.”

Till the end of time

Long as roses bloom in May

My love for you will grow deeper

With every passing day

“After you meet my parents. Then we’ll move in together. One more week.”

Till the wells run dry

And each mountain disappears

I'll be there for you, to care for you

Through laughter and through tears

The smell of the meat sizzling in the fry pan on the stove makes your stomach growl. You’re starving. Always so ravenous, now. Working up such an appetite.

“Dance with me after dinner.”

“Yes.”

So take my heart in sweet surrender

And tenderly say that I'm

The one you love and live for

Till the end of time

After dinner, in his arms as promised, he steers you in a neat circle.

“I had a wonderful weekend with you.”

“It’s not over yet.” He kisses your neck, his hands sliding over your abdomen. “I hope…”

“I know. We’ll keep trying, love.” You want to give him a child. That fear still there. Discovery. You were never as devout as Francis had been. Would it be blasphemous to pray? To ask for help, protection, mercy for a creature that was so reviled?

He switches off the record player and the final lamp in the living room. There is now nothing but moonlight to guide you.

He settles onto the couch. You sit beside him. The ticking of the grandfather clock is loud in the sudden stillness. Your mouths collide. A different kind of hunger afflicting you now.

“You’re still hiding from me,” you chide gently, sliding a hand over one thigh, moving to the front of the fly of his pants, where the bulge fits neatly into the curve of your palm and fingers.

“About that,” he murmurs. “Partly it’s for fear of losing control.”

“You won’t,” you reassure him, sucking at his bottom lip.

“Partly because I wanted to fill you with human seed. Our best chance to make a baby.”

“And the other part?” You prompt, sensing there is still something left unsaid.

“I’m not sure if you’d like it.”

“You mean find it appealing?”

“Yes,” he admits reluctantly.

“I love every part of you.” Your hand squeezes and he sucks in his breath sharply.

“You really do, don’t you?” This said with a kind of wonder and disbelief.

“Is it really so strange? You find me attractive, and I obviously don’t look like your kind.”

“You are beyond attractive. You are gorgeous. The softness of you. That texture. The flavor…” He kisses your jaw. “I can never get enough.”

“So you can relate to that feeling of being addicted.” You’ve slowly begun to unfasten his belt, now working on the button and zipper.

“I wonder how much of that isn’t a result of the bites.”

“I think that contributes to it.”

“I didn’t know they’d have that effect.”

“It’s all new. Uncharted territory, didn’t you call it?”

He hums in agreement, the sound changing to a moan when your fingers dip beneath his briefs. “I’m tempted.”

“Do it.”

“What if you don’t like it? It would ruin things…”

“No. I want it feel it. In my hand. In my mouth. Inside of me.” He shudders against you. “I love you, my doppelgänger.”

A growl. The leash slipping. He nips at your ear lobe. “Sweetheart, if that’s what you really want, I’ll give it to you. It’s all for you…”

Heat against your hand, not the customary warmth of that reproductive organ but something else, a scalding kind of sensation. The flesh morphing, rearranging beneath your fingertips. Growing slicker. Reminiscent of his true tongue, the structure thicker at the base, narrowing at the end. Root, tentacle, something else, no word for that pulsing member you hold in the near darkness.

He’s sweating with the effort of restraining himself, tasted every time your mouth touches his, salted kisses accompanied by your hand cautiously sliding along the length, exploring, forced to stretch your arm as you caress the alien’s cock, finding the head at last not so unlike the human one, ending in a kind of domed, mushroom shaped tip. Fat, thick, it would definitely stretch you. The thought of it makes you shiver, your body drooling arousal.

“Does it feel good? I don’t know if I’m doing it right…”

“It is…” He says a word you don’t recognize, something in his native tongue. You can’t replicate it. “That’s why I didn’t tell you my name. You could never say it. Even what I just uttered isn’t quite…fuck. Right there. Oh sweet girl, you’re always so perfect for me. Sit on it, sweetheart. Let me fuck you.”

Your heart is pounding as you stand long enough to pull your dress off overhead and remove your panties, climbing over the doppel’s thighs, that foreign prick tapping impatiently against your bare stomach. His hands clutch your buttocks as you raise yourself, guiding his dick into position. Your breath saws in and out roughly. Almost panicked. But so aroused. It’s too late to stop now. You’d asked for this. You asked for this and now…oh. Inside of you. A burning stretch, like having your maidenhood taken again for the first time. A whimper escapes you. Somewhere between pleasure and pain. Blurring from one to the other. Filling you. So warm inside. You can’t possibly fit all of it in there. A sob of frustration.

“My love,” he croons soothingly. “Our bodies weren’t meant to fit together, the anatomy, you can’t…”

“I want all of it,” you say stubbornly, disappointed. Feeling like you’ve failed him somehow.

“Look at how well you’ve done, sweet girl, letting me inside…” His hand strokes over your abdomen and you mirror his movements, feeling the bulge there. “Fuck me, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good.”

Your hands grasp his shoulders as you lift yourself up, supported by his hands, some supernatural strength from the invader providing assistance. Back down again. Up and down. A rhythm building. You’re getting used to it, slowly but surely. That tender ache within you starting to evolve into something else. A coil of pleasure knots your insides.

“Tell me your name. Even if I can’t say it…to hear it…” A foreign word. “No. From your tongue. That mouth…”

“Risky, love. Can’t…” The hands holding you are shaking. “Even this is…”

“What…what is it? Tell me.” You’re properly riding his cock now, grinding yourself down as far as you’re able.

“It’s dangerous. The desire to be let out…tear free…love, it’s…I can’t stop it…”

The coil inside of you snaps, your orgasm ripping through you. There is something else, something searing hot spilling into you, the stream of it running out as he lifts your body clear of his, then cradles you against him.

“You didn’t warn me,” you chide softly when you’ve recovered, your fingers gliding curiously across the trail of slick cum streaking your thighs. “There’s so much of it.”

“Wanted it to be a surprise.”

You slap his arm playfully, then rest your forehead against his. “I told you you’d be okay.”

“Are you sore?”

“A little. It’s okay.”

“I don’t like hurting you.”

“I wanted it. I don’t regret it. I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“My love, what am I going to do with you?” He says in mock exasperation.

“Hopefully marry me.”

“Oh, that’s definitely happening. Speaking of which. We need to plan that out. The details of where and when.” He makes a little disgruntled sound. “Can we go take a bath? This is getting rather…unpleasant.”

You can’t disagree, the feeling of being so damp and sticky, the decreasing temperature and congealing nature of the ejaculate getting more and more uncomfortable to be lingering in. “Yes. Let’s go upstairs. We can plan things out while we wash up. Then it’s bed time. We both have work in the morning.”

“I love you,” he says softly. “I’m so grateful you love me. The real me. I like being called your doppelgänger,” he adds, stealing a quick kiss before you scoot off his lap, allowing him to stand. You manage to find your discarded clothing.

“Well, it’s the truth. You are mine.”

He hastily buttons the front of his pants to keep them from sliding down as he rises, reaching out to take your hand, leading you to the foot of the staircase.

“Do you have a last name?”

The doppel chuckles. “Get upstairs, you.”

“I think I’m entitled to know, seeing as how I’m going to be your wife.”

“I’ll tell you my real name. Soon.”

Another kiss in the dark, the promise of a shared secret.

[starseungs]

from the past, beyond the present, and into tomorrow. ksm. ( teaser )

kim seungmin x fem!reader — following the last wishes of her beloved grandmother, y/n finds herself moving back to her family's hometown. deep into the countryside and miles away from the bustling noise of the city, the change was supposed to be a new experience. that was, if only the mayor's son didn't bring along years of unknown familiarity with him.

GENRE/S — drama, slight angst, slight fluff, just sentimental, soulmates au, multiple lifetimes, high school au, a slowburn • teaser: 2.1k words (10k+ overall fic)

WARNING/S — y/n gets referred to with she/her pronouns, setting is heavily influenced by japanese environments (but still made vague enough for other preferences), main characters are aged eighteen, possibly more to be added upon release.

NOW PLAYING — tracing that dream by yoasobi

( ✒️ ) this is the product of seungmin covering one of my favorite songs ... now im gonna make him a shoujo anime love interest !!! and yes the teaser is long asf. i, too, am concerned about the total word count of this fic. (road to 20k wc i guess)

( 📌 ) STATUS: UNRELEASED • TAGLIST IS OPEN !

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

You had dreamt of a specific scene once when you were thirteen.

At least, you were the one who considered it a dream. It was something you had tried to bury in the depths of your mind—locked away in a tiny chest placed in the furthest corner and behind closed doors. If it were someone else, you knew that they would’ve already exhausted all means to figure out what the dream meant.

After all, it certainly wasn’t every day that you got to dream of something that felt so vividly real to the point you could’ve sworn it was a memory.

But it wasn’t. It could never be.

Why?

Because in no reality could an authentic memory be of a time that shouldn’t even exist yet.

“I won’t ask you to congratulate me,” the vessel you were seeing the world through spoke. In the scenario being played out, you could feel yourself smile warmly. You could only guess why the positive action was contrasted by such a somber tone of speaking. “Never once have your eyes lied in front of mine.”

The sound of joyous laughter that surrounded the area almost felt too jarring to compare to the mood present between what was supposed to be you and another male. He sat completely still, unmoving amidst the dim evening despite your earlier comment. Flickers of embers from the sizable-looking campfire reflected in his eyes, telling of the fact that the absence of a response was not because of a lack of focus but rather his inner thoughts getting swallowed up by the burning flames.

His looks would range him older than eleven. Yet, you didn’t seem phased by it—not even in the slightest. Perhaps this was something you should have expected. The voice that came out of you was notably not one of an eleven-year-old either. So you gave up on the matter.

Instead, you waited for an answer to what you had previously uttered. Even if it was just a simple hum that came out of his mouth.

He let the fire crackle a bit more.

“Does it make me a bad man to say that I envy you?”

The breath that you didn’t even know you were holding escaped your lips the second he spoke. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean,” was your reply.

The silence came back for a second. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem as heavy as the one you two had just broken. You watched his movements, almost mesmerized, as he took his eyes off the fire. The concentration only faltered when his sight came up to meet yours. “You’re off to go do greater things over in the big city,” he starts. “And yet, here I am, getting left behind in this quiet town. A place not a single soul even yearns for—where everyone starts off but never stays.”

It was odd. The way you felt your heart race at his words.

To be completely honest, you didn’t think much of what he had just said. You didn’t even know exactly what it meant—both for you and for him. Yet, the sudden spike of adrenaline in your veins told a different story. It was making you feel breathless while also making you tear up.

“You could always come with me.”

He shook his head. Did he just reject your offer? “It’s no use. My life’s responsibilities will still lie here. What would I even gain from leaving this place?”

Another beat. You could care less if it was of silence or your heart. In what seemed like a blink, the environment felt too overwhelming for you to function in. It was almost like you were sinking. Down deep to who knows where.

Though muddled, you tried your best to bring yourself back to the forefront by listening to the variety of other sounds outside the small bubble you two had created. Children running around screaming with laughter, adult men howling with amusement at whatever conversation they were in, and a female voice yelling to prepare the fireworks.

How fun. A celebration right next to a brewing storm. All under the same night sky.

“But,” you forced the words out. “You also have your own dreams.” His eyes softened at the mention. The way your heart shattered echoed a little too strongly throughout your body.

“That’s why I’m letting you go like this.” The young male smiled, making sure to let you know it was only directed at you. “So that at least one of us gets to achieve them.”

Your lips quivered. “Why do you speak as if I’m never going to come back for you?”

Silence again. You were beginning to develop an intense dislike for them.

“That’s just the way the world works,” was the response that came to soothe your growing anxiety. “It doesn’t revolve around a certain person. And it certainly doesn’t revolve around me. Go and live the life you want without any regrets. When the time comes that you’ve done everything you’ve wished for in life, come and find me again.”

A shake of a head.

“I could always just stay.”

A weak chuckle.

“Then, neither of us will be able to grow.”

A clench of a hand.

“What if I take too long?”

A minute passes by. You’ve come to really hate these momentary pauses.

He stands up. “There will be no such thing,” the young male assures you, moving closer only to stop at arm's length. You fought the urge to reach out and hold him. “Even if it takes multiple lifetimes, I’ll always be here. Waiting for you.”

“What if you forget about me?”

The world fell into one last hush. Your well-held tears finally started falling one-by-one, just like the first drops of rain. He sighs at your state, taking another step forward.

“I really don’t think I ever will.” He cups your face gently to look at him. “That’s why to you, who my heart will always choose in every lifetime—”

A loud bang. You watched as the fireworks bloomed into the sky through his glistening eyes.

“—Please live well until you come back to me.”

Hushed whispers filled the room.

You should’ve expected this. No matter the place, all high schoolers were bound to be the same, either one way or another. If you really had to make sense of it, your best guess would be that it was simply human for them to act this way. Universal traits are what makes a species. Perhaps you would’ve found it much more uncomfortable if the students in front of you didn’t find your situation interesting. After all, the genuine interest seeping out of those youthful eyes did make the atmosphere a lot lighter. At the end of the day, you could never actually fault them.

Still, enduring the poor attempts of adolescents trying to keep their curiosity hidden for more than a tick of a clock was harder than you thought. A part of you so badly wanted to believe that it was because this whole ordeal was tiring—bothersome, even. Unluckily for you, your brain knew a little bit too much for its own good.

Next to the classroom’s front door, one of your female classmates drops a pen accidentally. You watched it roll down two seats away, only to stop underneath the chair of a guy who was animatedly discussing something with another that was to his right. The latter enthusiastically reciprocated the conversation; his seemingly dominant hand spinning a blue-colored pen while doing so. You balled your hands, only to release them not even a beat later. They felt slightly damp.

You were nervous.

“Settle down now, class!” The homeroom teacher, Mrs. Cheon, ordered. Like well disciplined soldiers, the students quickly ceased all sound. Their undivided attention made you swallow heavily. “Starting today, we have a new addition to our class. Let’s all listen to her introduction.”

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at her order—only barely holding back from painting shock all over your face. This was not the plan you were made aware of. You wanted to protest. Throw a tantrum like a little child at the way she had just thrown you into a den filled with lions with no choice but to fend for yourself. Back in the faculty room, she had clearly stated that she was the one who was going to introduce you to the class. What was the point of asking you all the standard information about yourself if she wasn’t even going to use it?

Mrs. Cheon merely stood there, anticipating for you to start. Her neatly managed fingers were laced together behind her back, presenting the dark purple dress she was wearing in all of its glory. You kind of wished it was brighter; just so you could complain about her blinding you without seeming rude. Now you realized that you shouldn’t have trusted her words in their literal sense. It was foolish of you to believe that all you had to do for your formal introduction was to stand there until you were settled.

You took a discrete, heavy breath.

“Hello to you all. My name is Y/N,” you start off as cool as you could manage. “Eighteen. I just moved here from the city, so I am still in the process of getting familiar with the environment. Please take care of me.”

If you could give yourself a pat on the back at that moment, you would’ve. Unfortunately, you had yet to get a grasp on how things worked around here, so it was probably better not to do anything that would make you stand out more than you already did just by being new. And who even transfers schools two months into their last year of high school? Plus, with their stares so intently directed at you like they were studying a fascinating specimen, you couldn’t lift a single finger anyway. So you settled for pursing your lips instead.

A male student with puffed cheeks from the second row raised a brow at you. You bit your cheek lightly. Great.

“It seems like that’s all for Y/N’s introduction,” Mrs. Cheon says, clearing her throat. You internally glowered at the way she awkwardly moved on. You could only wonder how painful your introduction now seemed. “You’ll be seated next to Seungmin. Raise your hand, please.” She ordered.

To which not one soul followed.

If you had not enforced every single ounce of control you had, you were sure your jaw would’ve dropped to the ground. This was already proving to be one of the worst moments of your life, and yet life seemed way too eager to make it even more unforgettable. Your eyes snapped to the figure sitting on the slot in the back row, right next to the windows.

Granted, you already knew who this ‘Seungmin’ was. It was quite obvious, really. The only other desk free to use in this entire room was the one next to the guy you were currently burning a hole through with your gaze. He was staring out the window without a worry in the world, seemingly lost in his thoughts. His posture screamed relaxation, and anything more than that meant infusing into the wooden chair he was leaning back on.

While normally you would have found this guy relatable, right now you could just wish that he finally acknowledged Mrs. Cheon’s call so that you could now erase your presence for the rest of the day.

Luckily for you, it seemed like your homeroom teacher was also getting impatient.

“Kim Seungmin!”

The male with the same name as the one just yelled out leisurely broke off his staring contest with that one cloud in the sky to give you two at the front a glance. It was then that you finally got a good look at him.

His black hair was cut short, brushed down into bangs, but not enough to cover a notable undercut. Despite his clean appearance doubled by the meticulously ironed uniform that hung on his figure, his face was grim in a way that showed great dislike for the situation. You wanted to scoff at the frown decorating his lips, sending everyone the clear message that he had just been bothered. Fighting off the urge to twitch an eye at the slight scrunch of his nose was proving to be the most difficult challenge of the day.

“Oh?” He reacted monotonously before raising his hand as requested. That obviously meant he did hear Mrs. Cheon. “Yeah, here.”

You grit your teeth, already feeling an overwhelming sense of annoyance radiating out of you. From what it looked like, he felt it too—shifting his gaze from Mrs. Cheon to meet yours. Yet, your eyebrows furrowed as the feeling dissipated the moment your eyes locked.

Huh.

How come he seems awfully familiar?

FIC TAGLIST ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @soobnny

[seat-safety-switch]

There’s something that we all can learn from stage magicians, and that is the value of having a friend in the crowd. If you’re picking a card out of a deck of cards, that’s hard. If you’re picking a card out of a deck of cards where your drinking buddy has agreed with you ahead of time that it will be the ace of diamonds, that’s substantially easier. You might think that this scam, such as it is, is only limited to the performance of magic tricks. And you’d be wrong.

There is another place in modern society in which ridiculous performances, shocking coincidences and underhanded collusion work together to enrich tricksters. It’s called politics. You can bring your drinking buddy with you to a city council meeting, make him sit far away from you, and suddenly he’s a “concerned citizen” who agrees that it’s “just common sense” what you are proposing. From there, herd mentality takes over, and suddenly a room full of real-estate obsessed seniors are screaming at The Mayor, wondering why in the fuck you won’t let them leave a broken car in the middle of the road for a month or two I thought this was a free country.

Once you’ve learned this trick, you can see it all over the place. Unpopular policy gets washed through a series of studies, think-tanks, and media surrogates into being the product of consensus. The guy playing three-card Monte on the street has already been beaten by a couple folks, surely it’s your turn to win next. And that guy at the bar surely can’t be an undercover federal agent, because he just told us all how much he hates cops and loves Plymouth Darts. Sure, he had to check his phone a few times while he was trying to tell us all this, but he seems legit.

Now that you know how to deceive others in a crowd, it’s up to you on how to use it for evil. Just don’t become a stage magician. I guarantee you that I’ve poisoned that well already, because I waited until Mister Magic here started a show at the community centre and then stole a bunch of the audience’s batteries out in the parking lot.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Which one do you want?

Just off a quiet highway somewhere in the Midwest, you might see James advertising my new product. He used to own this car dealership with his wife, but she's long gone. James hasn't thought about her since I pulled out my pendulum and put him in a trance. He just spends his days standing on the side of the road holding up that sign like I told him to.

You can see I marked him at 40 bucks, which is well over what he's worth, but I like to keep him around to advertise and flag down potential customers. His abs are visible even in the rain, and the neon underwear I put him in is sure to catch every driver's eye.

If you pull into my dealership, I'd be happy to show you my selection you can choose from...

Tyler, here, used to be my brother-in-law, but my sister dumped him real fast after she found the guy was a cheater. Since, he wasn't family anymore, I had no reason not to hypnotize every thought out of his head.

She has no idea I did this to her ex, but it won't hurt to have Tyler out of the picture for good. I like to give him a little punch in the gut every time I pass. It's my form of ongoing payback. He only ever reacts with a stifled groan since his mind is mush, but it's still cathartic to see him in pain.

Tyler will probably go fast since he's so traditionally handsome, but the vengeful part of me hopes a more sadistic client will take him off my hands.

Next is Caesar. This guy used to work at the auto garage next door, but when I saw him I knew I had to have him. He put on a real tough guy act when I introduced myself, but a pudgy working man like him should act accordingly in my opinion.

After introducing his gaze to my pendulum, he practically fell into my arms. I had my fun warping Ceasar's personality to be more like that of a submissive dog, but even that got a bit old. Sure, I made him love and cuddle me like the perfect partner, but he tracked mud everywhere and he always seemed to stink.

I hope whoever pays for him doesn't mind always telling the oaf to hose himself down every once in awhile. I suppose they could just use Ceasar for the cheap manual labor and just forget about his hygiene entirely.

This is Mike. He's a real piece of trash. I caught him trying to steal one of my cars in the middle of the night. He sure was shocked when my army of hypnotized hunks ran out and apprehended him, per my command.

He might look mean, but trust me, Mike's been thoroughly hypnotized and broken in just like every other dude on this lot. He wouldn't be standing there holding that 'For Sale' sign all day if he weren't!

Now, I know that his lack of hair might be a turn off for a lot of folks, so I'm willing to go down on the price. 20 dollars is already pretty low, but I want to make sure you all can afford your own hypnotized hunk. It's not like it's too difficult for me to go out and find a couple more idiots to fill their place. Hell, if you really need it, I might sell you a guy for a dollar!

This boy in blue is Lt. O'Riley. I don't know what his full name is. I'm just going off what it says on his badge. Now, I know that hypnotizing an officer of the law is risky, but O'Riley was being a real pain in my neck, always poking his nose in my business.

I hypnotized his partner too.

I think that guy's name was Brooks or something, but he was real ugly. I would've never been able to sell his fat ass, so I had him hand over his police uniform and turned him into my handyman, who's meant to be neither seen nor heard. He wears an old pair of dirty coveralls now and takes care of all the maintenance work. He's probably off scrubbing my housing from top to bottom right now since it's the middle of the day.

You could do that to officer O'Riley too, if you want, or maybe you keep that precious uniform on him. It's up to you.

This last guy is Don, and I know what you're going to say! I'm a little light on product at the moment, but don't worry.

I'm planning on driving into town real soon and restocking. Maybe I'll grab a few more officers this time. The police department is right down the street from that Halloween store. I could grab a couple more cops and put them in some stupid costumes.

Customers love a themed product, right?

Anyways, Don here didn't do anything to piss me off. He actually stopped in after seeing the sign. He wanted to purchase one of my brainless studs and pimp him out to all his friends for cheap cash. I liked the idea, but Don was far too handsome to just walk off my lot.

I offered to give him a tutorial of my hypnosis, and the guy naively agreed. His car has been collecting dust in the back ever since, and he's been added into the lineup of hot men standing for sale.

So, please come by if you're interested in taking any of these guys on a test drive! Let me know which one sparks your interest!

No need to be nervous.....unless you're a handsome man yourself. Then I might just have to use my pendulum on you!

[anxiouslyeccentric]

Just finished my latest project, I dub it the Wii Balance Skateboard!

Had one of my 3 Wii balance boards sitting in the trunk of my car next to my skatebaords, and thought, "oh ive got an awful idea"

Sourced some trucks, bearings and jelly wheels from a local skate shop i frequent and drilled some holes, and viola! Looks awesome and rides like the worlds heaviest pennyboard!

When i brought it over to the skate shop to show the finished product, i was surprised to find a Pride parade going on, and got a ton of compliments and picture requests! My very first pride was both an accident and a very fun time! This is definitely the most physical game project ive done, most of the stuff i do involving software and data manip, but im very happy with the finished product!

I should say i certainly dont recommend doing this or attempting to ride it, it's pretty fragile and even tho i spaced the wheel as far apart across the board as i could while keeping structural integrity, even the regulars at the skate shop had a lot of trouble staying on it XD. All that said it is a very fun and flashy way to get around on a nicer road! Bonus points for waving the broken wiimote i had laying around to steer!

[ohbo-ohno]

you said ghost lives to serve and i screamed at the top of my lungs how dare you. he never sits still in your shared home. constantly cleaning and upgrading and fixing so you don’t have to. it’s in his blood and his bones to serve in any way he can and now i’m sad🧸

wait i lied im not leaving i love this

ghost only knows how to serve - it's all he did in the military, and it's all he has left now. he genuinely doesn't know how to not serve someone. you're like a beam of light when he finds you - someone good and sweet and soft who he can help. he can offer to fix your ovens, he can help you by bussing tables when you're too busy.

you mention that a bird pooped on your windshield and when you leave the bakery at the end of the day your car is squeaky clean

you lament that your favorite shade of lipstick is about to stop production and ghost drives to every makeup store nearby and buys them out of their stock, offering them as a tip the next morning

you mention needing to find a plumber because there's a leak in the kitchen sink and he almost looks offended, leaves with his tea and come back five minutes later with a toolbox and gets to work

you complain about being stuck on the side of the road for hours waiting for roadside assistance after getting a flat tire, and he gives you his number, tells you you call me next time something like that happens, i'll take care of it for you. (catches himself just in time to not say i'll take care of you)

he comes to your house for the first time when you mention your broken doorbell. fixes it right up for you

he weeds your garden for you while you plant flowers - he's still only comfortable destroying, not growing. you bring him inside for a warm drink and tell him thank you, ramble on about how important weeding is for a garden, and you don't even realize how much it means to him

(also this ghost worships you in bed)

[cuubism]

unfortunately for my sanity i am thinking about them again [sheltered rich boy dream and feral child hob]

--

In retrospect, it was fitting that the first time Dream met Hob, he was breaking a rule.

It hadn’t been easy. Dream did not like to lie, and wasn’t very good at it besides. And breaking rules made him nervous. Broken rules carried consequences. But he’d needed to get out of the house, just for a moment. To clear his head. And just going for a walk was not a good enough reason to leave the house when he could be doing something more productive. Something better. Make some use of yourself, Dream.

So Dream had crafted a little story of extra studying, extra work, and managed to slip out. Dream did not always tell the truth, could not, but usually he lived in the shadows left by omission. The outward lie was bitter on the back of his tongue.

But he’d been freed. And now he was wandering. He did not often get the chance to wander, untended, unobserved. Making his unsteady way down the winding road leading out of the estate, and then into town, where he’d never really walked before. It was just getting late, almost sunset on a Thursday evening, and the streets were fairly quiet, only a handful of people about. And Dream wandered, not quite knowing what to do with himself but enjoying the quiet in his head.

Possibly meandering about on his own was a bad idea. Possibly he’d be hit by a car or attacked by a madman. He didn’t think he much cared.

And that was when he met Hob. That first dip of his toes into freedom.

He was sitting on a bench in the park, watching the small scattering of pigeons pecking for seeds by the fountain. Dream had always liked birds, but it wasn’t often he had the chance to sit and just watch them. He studied their patterns, mentally tracking the shapes they traversed, their mathematical lines. He should have brought his sketchbook. It would have been nice to work from live subjects, for once.

He was deep in his thoughts, in the calming trickle of the fountain and the repetitive paths of the birds, when another boy about his age plopped down on the bench beside him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so depressed while feeding birds.”

The birds had fluttered up in disarray at the sudden motion, but settled down again quickly. Dream looked at the other boy askance, irritated at his rare peace being interrupted.

“Do you often speak with people who are busy feeding birds?” he asked, unable to keep the annoyance from his tone.

“Only when they’re broody and mysterious,” said the boy. He wasn’t wearing a school uniform, but he must have been college age, like Dream. Dream was still wearing his jacket and trousers, for his own part. Everything about this boy was looser, really, from his longish brown hair, to his jeans and t-shirt. It made Dream feel very uptight in comparison, which was not a fact about himself he needed reinforced. He already knew it. “Do you often feed birds?”

“I am not feeding them,” Dream said. “They are eating what was there.”

“Just spying on them, then,” said the boy teasingly. Dream did not know what to do about being teased with what seemed like lightheartedness rather than mockery, and so didn’t respond.

“Seriously,” said the boy. “Are you okay?”

Then Dream did look at his face properly. He had very kind, very genuine eyes, was the first thing Dream noticed. It was not something he noticed about a lot of people. Perhaps it was not something a lot of people possessed.

Then the boy smiled at him, a soft, kind smile. It transformed his whole face from something merely pleasant to something lovely.

“Is that why you have come over?”

The boy shrugged. “You looked sad and alone. I’ve been sad and alone before, so I don’t think anyone else should.”

Dream bristled. “I am not sad and alone.”

“Just alone, then?”

Dream’s mouth popped open in affront, and then shut. Then he said, “Are you always so familiar and impertinent with strangers?”

“‘Familiar and impertinent,’” echoed the boy, with a laugh. “Sure. Are you always so snooty and aristocratic?”

“Yes,” said Dream, and he laughed louder.

“Honest though.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Hob.”

Dream nearly said, What kind of name is Hob? but swiftly realized the hypocrisy. Gingerly, he took Hob’s hand. “…Dream.”

“What kind of name is Dream?” said Hob, and Dream sighed. “And you really don’t have to shake my hand like a king deigning to touch the peasants. I’m not diseased.”

“I don’t like to touch people,” Dream said, taking his hand back. “Peasant or otherwise.”

“Peasant or otherwise,” Hob echoed. He didn’t seem offended. He was smiling.

“Are you here because you felt I should be taught a lesson? Is that it?”

“Nah. I just get bored easily.” Hob turned to watch the pigeons again, tapping his fingers restlessly against the bench. “I was out and about. You looked interesting. You wanna go for a walk?”

“…Why?” But Dream knew why. He had learned it as he’d wandered the streets, freed for the first time.

Hob shrugged. “Just to do it.”

Dream had stepped out of his comfort zone once today already. He supposed he could do so again. If Hob turned out to be an adolescent serial killer at least the end of his life would hold intrigue. “Very well.”

Hob grinned, so bright it struck some deep, static bell in Dream’s chest and set it ringing. “Come on.”

[xo-cod]

141 boys treating hyperfeminine!reader as goddess headcanons? 🩷

i got a little confused with what you mean lmfao, i hope this is what you wanted :') <3

ooc/rushed/can be read platonic or romantic 🤍

each of them are very territorial of you even if they don't mean it to be, it just happens especially because you're a precious thing they constantly want to shield away from the horrors of the job

even if you see it, they do try their hardest to limit the gory viewing of it

ghost grumbling about all your pretty items saying that it clogs the space but him secretly taking keeping a few to keep safe.

you know about it and he knows that you know but you never say anything about it

and he keeps them close to his heart on those days he's missing you a little harder <33

he's your handyman no matter what, has gone head to head with price on this

if anything is wrong in your apartment, he's there instantly fixing away with the tip of his tongue stuck between his lips if he's been at it for a while/lost in thought

he wants to do everything for you, has to hold himself back because he knows you're capable and very smart

but it's hard because you're a lil sunshine packed in a human that he can't help but want to squeeze

def gets cuteness aggression with you, cannot help it. will try his hardest to fight against it

gaz is so tender with you, he constantly appreciates every single little thing you do for him

could've bawled into tears at the time you cooked him breakfast complete with fresh hand squeezed juice and pancakes with syrup

and when you handed it to him with a sweet smile, he felt his heart crumbling into a billion pieces

bodyguard no matter where you're going, even if it's to the shop up the road he's coming along

soap has a small tendency to cling onto you whatever you're doing

it's not outright in a childish sense but moreso lingering touches and holding you subtly

it's just in his nature, he misses you so bad whenever you're gone on a mission and you're unavailable for however long that period is

fights price to come with you but gets shut down because he's needed somewhere else

could've cried about it, but he didn't ‼️

price didn't know how much he needed you until you came into his life

not only were you a competent intelligent technical analyst, the best he had on the team

but even off duty, how kind hearted and sweet you were with him

it opened a whole can of worms he thought hadn't even existed

they're all like little children when you're doing your own thing and they're just watching you

all of them being intrigued by your makeup, pointing at several things and asking what the purpose is

"why's is so pointy?" soap had found your eyeliner, looking in the mirror as he attempted his own liner but the poor thing ends up looking like a panda by the time he's done and awkwardly laughing as he hands you back an eyeliner pen that's a little broken now from how frustrated he got

"you waste money when you buy the same things. you just get one and stick with it" simon is loyal king to his own products, the same brand of shampoo he's been buying since the early 2000's is fighting for its life. will never understand why you buy so many blushes/eye shadows/lipsticks but likes watching you put it on

"i watched a video about this yesterday, here lemme help" gaz, always the perfect helper. because what do you means he's gonna let you struggle if your eyeliner is matching on both sides??? he's gonna help you with it ‼️

price, bless his heart just wants to be involved but he doesn't know how to. awkwardly smiling, nodding his head telling you, you did a great job and there's no flashback (learnt the word one time. doesn't know what it means but it sounds fitting)

them poking fun at the candles you used but buying the exact same ones to use at their own homes because it reminds them of you

soap and gaz love the scent in your home, always trying to recreate it in theirs but it never coming close to yours <33

if you're ever running low on anything, it's refilled the next day

yes they all have keys to your house

because why do you need to use your pretty hands when they're here to help you?

game over if you paint your nails in their favourite colour

soap is so proud, constantly showing your hand off and telling you that it should be a permanent colour

gaz being so smug about it, his favourite colour is the most superior therefore it needs to be permanently coloured on your nails

ghost doing a double take at your nails, his heart melting when he sees them, can't not resist touching them or trying to touch them lmaooo

price telling you outright that it suits you and him telling you subtly that it needs to be an every day colour

all of them fighting for their lives trying to pay for your nail appointment but the other trying to butt in

and when you have a bad day, working yourself to the bone all of them step up and intervene

"c'mon sweetheart, it's been a long day" price is very gentle with you, holding you up by your hips as he looks at you inspecting your fatigued state. it hurts his heart when you work yourself to death for this team

"there we go, bonnie. i made you a cuppa" johnny handing you his famous hot chocolates in your hands, helping you take a few sips as he holds you gently in his arms

"i'll run the bath for you, pretty" gaz kissing your temple before he plucks your towel and a bath bomb, determined to make the prettiest most relaxing bubble bath you've ever seen

"c'mere lovie, enough for today" simon holding you to his chest as he takes you put of your seat and helping you stand up. his thumb gently brushing over your cheek with a soft sigh, his affections practically radiating off from him in waves. he may not be a man of poetic words but his actions tell you what he says anyway

and if you have enemies, congrats they have four more

heaven forbid you ever meet kortac, especially könig. simon's got words to say ‼️

[charkie-ee]

team bolas rojas gas masks designs??

in THIS day and age?????

it may be more likely than you think..

this was my first time drawing a series of different gas masks, no idea if they’re accurate at all, but it was really fun!!

**notes & closeups under the cut :-D**

it’s a lot of notes so be prepared for an info dump.

NOTES:

Philza: honestly, what more is there to say than “CROW MAN!!”? aside from his goggles being glow-in-the-dark, theres not much more to the mask design. however, i decided, “hey! this is purgatory! i can fuck up these characters!” so, he has a ripped ear(?)wing and messily cut back hair. (i didn’t pay too much attention to the hair in this design, i was mainly trying to get the gas masks down, but maybe i’ll go further into later.)

Cellbit: this is definitely one of my favorites, he looks pretty scary, i would NOT stop my car if i saw him on the side of the road. its based off of a cat mask(obviously) and a painted white streak goes through his mask, inspired by his hair. i didn’t include it, but circles in the goggles are supposed to retract with different emotions (kind of how cat’s eyes do, saucer and dagger pupils.) he’s also covered in blood because he’s going through it lore wise.

Slimecicle: ngl, it was my first time drawing code charlie(other than all the wips i have that i’ll never finish),but i think he’s pretty spooky. his mask is the worst quality, like it USED to work well until he wore it out. thus, there are broken air tubes that let the gas in. (he should probably get those replaced.) the holes for his horns are kind of like an airlock, so the gas can’t enter through them (phil helped him make it.) however, it makes it difficult to take off.

Baghera: baghera’s mask is kind of built like charlie’s, except in much better quality. aside from the loose air tubes, the mask almost goes all the way around her head, not letting even the slightest bit of gas in. theres also a plastic duck beak on top of the regular breathy-thing(i have no idea what i’m doing, so, no, i don’t know the technical term for that) to give it the “bird touch.”

Jaiden: jaiden’s mask was FUN. like i kinda went overboard. i did these all on different days, and this was the night after the big egg battle day. i saw she had fnaf bonnie ears along with her bird gas mask, and said “ok cool. i’ll add that.” she has the same feather/beak thing i gave to baghera. also, hair-wise, she gets a hair bun and her brown roots showing through(we love messy haired cubitos ^^)

Foolish: foolish was interesting, not sure i like the final product, but i’m tired, so it’ll do. his mask is based off of a lemon shark. he gas glowing green eyes and golden splotches on the leather. the air tube foolish has is REALLY long. like unnaturally long. so he wraps it around his neck to get it out of the way. the other members are extremely concerned it’ll choke him one day, but foolish thinks it’s cool and will scare other teams away. kind of like a “yea, i’m crazy, i could choke and die at any minute, and i don’t care.” phil, being the protective father figure of the group, does not like this at all.

Carre: and finally, we have carre. ah, sweet, sweet carre.(he is my favorite.) his mask is based off of a snow leopard because i hc he’s half feline. carre has the lightest, and most simple mask, since it’s entirely plastic, and more so based off of skiing or snowboarding goggles.

ANYWAY, i hope these notes make sense, excuse my rambling about silly designs, i tend to doodle messily, and not really have a plan when i draw, lol.

thanks for reading, BYE!

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Sleight of Hand

[A/N: I DID IT! I finished my Steve x reader undercover op fic, and I kind of love it??? I hope those of you who were looking forward to it enjoy it too 😈🖤 Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this as a full blown fic! Over 5.7k words hehe whoops]

—————

When your former mentor had contacted you about an opening at her coral reef research lab, moving from Camden to Oahu had been a no brainer. You’d packed up your life in New Jersey and been on a plane to the Aloha State within a week. Your favorite cousin, who’s truthfully more like the big brother you always wanted, had been elated to hear the news, welcoming you at the airport with open arms and two simple rules.

“Always answer the phone when I call so you don’t worry me to death,” Danny had said, holding up one finger, “and two,” he added a second, “you’re an adult and you can date anyone on this island-”

“Thank… you?”

“-but stay away from this schmuck.”

The schmuck in question had simply rolled his eyes, draped a beautiful lei around your neck, and greeted you with a warm hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Steve.”

Your confident promise to your cousin had been broken a whopping two months later- and no, you hadn’t ignored one of his phone calls.

“Did you get me a beer?” you ask with a teasing lilt to your voice, wringing out your wet hair before dropping down onto the bench beside your boyfriend. A quick glance around reveals that Danny’s over by the shrimp truck with Kamekona, and you lean forward to steal a kiss before putting some space between yourself and your favorite brunette.

“I surely did not,” Steve sasses back and takes a swig of his ice cold beverage. “Alcohol and diving do not mix. But I did happen to get a mango smoothie from that one place down the road this pretty girl I know really likes.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” he responds, a goofy grin spreading across his handsome face. “But, uh, she didn’t show, so I guess you can have it.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove, then let out a content hum as you pop the straw through the lid and take a grateful sip. “So good,” you moan in delight, and Steve has to bite his lip to refrain from making a comment when he spots Danny approaching the table with your regular orders.

“Hey, you.” Your cousin greets you with a kiss on the cheek before taking up residence on the bench across from you and Steve. “Why’re you sitting all the way over there, huh? You like that clown better or somethin’?”

“This guy?” you snort, taking your lunch off the tray and rifling through the napkins in search of a fork.

“Ouch.” Steve winces as if burned by your comment, and you surreptitiously squeeze his thigh beneath the table.

“So tell me about this case you’ve got,” you coax your cousin to change the subject, spearing some grilled veggies on the plastic fork’s tines and scooping up a respectable mound of rice on top.

“So there’s a diamond smuggling ring-” Danny starts, and you immediately cut him off with, “Shut up, that doesn’t happen in real life.” You turn to Steve for confirmation, but there’s no provocative arch to his eyebrow or twitching of his lips to suggest this is a joke. “Are you serious right now? BFFR, Danno.”

“I don’t- I don’t know what that means. Why are you making me feel old?”

“Be fucking for real,” you and Steve supply in unison, and you smile proudly at him. “You’re learning!”

“Between you and Gracie, I keep up, okay?”

“Oh, between my baby cousin and my daughter, you- okay, that’s excellent,” Danny proclaims, his tone indicating it’s anything but. “Anyway, they’re using poker games as a cover to uh, collect their product, shall we say.”

“There’s enough rich people on Oahu with actual diamonds?” you ask, incredulous. “And here I am working like a pleb for paper currency.”

“Word,” Steve seconds your statement, raising his beer in a toast. You clink your smoothie against it before taking another refreshing sip and asking, “So how’re you gonna catch them?”

“Well, there’s a high roller tournament on Friday night that we’re betting they’ll hit. We wanted to go in undercover and flush them out but…” Steve trails off and gazes at you thoughtfully, but Danny’s shaking his head before the words have even formed on the brunette’s lips.

“No, absolutely not. Don’t even think about it, Steve.”

“What?” You turn to him, excitement coursing through your veins at the way his eyes have lit up. “Think about it! And tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You could go undercover with me to the tournament, help me gather some intel. Maybe we get you to confirm the diamonds are actually in their possession and-”

“No!” Danny chimes in again. “What’s the matter with you, huh? These guys have killed two people, Steve. It’s too dangerous for her.”

“First off, fuck that-”

“Language.”

With an eye roll, you amend, “Forget that. More importantly, shouldn’t Danny go undercover? You kind of suck at poker, Steve.” You feel a sharp pinch at your side and you yelp in protest, slapping at the Navy SEAL. “It’s true, you little-”

“You’re not going,” Danny says definitively. “What about Tani?”

Steve shakes his head. “Tani and Junior have already questioned two of the men involved. They’ll be made before they even get to the table.”

You cross your arms and level your cousin with a smirk. “Sounds like you need me, Danno.”

“Then I’m going with you,” he declares.

“Yeah, no, hard pass,” you backpedal. “Even as a former thespian, there’s no way I can convincingly play arm candy for you without it being weird.”

“So, it’s settled then, little Williams,” Steve says with a grin. “You and me. Friday night. The high roller table at the Ilikai Hotel.”

__________

“This whole affair is giving very much Ocean’s Thirteen,” you remark as you lean into the mirror to line your puckered lips with Devil’s Den red. “The diamond heist, the poker game… it’s all so exciting.”

“Except this isn’t Hollywood and a bullet will actually hurt,” your cousin ever so graciously reminds you, trying to tug the slit ends of your dress together and then grunting in displeasure when the action reveals more of your bare back. “You’ve gotta be kidding me with this dress, babe,” he tuts. “Why’s it so expensive if it’s missing half the fabric, huh?”

You shrug and answer with a smile, “Don’t ask me! Your buddy picked it out.”

“Oh yeah, I bet he did,” Danny grumbles under his breath. “I mean, you’d be the most beautiful woman in the room if you were wearing a paper bag, but this- this dress-”

“Danno,” you laugh, completing the finishing touches on your makeup before turning around to squeeze his shoulder. “Remember one of the first things you said to me when I stepped off the plane?”

“Don’t date Steve?” he offers hopefully with a grimace.

That ship has sailed and it’s not docking anytime soon, you think wryly. “No, you goofball,” you respond instead, “that I’m an adult. Everything’s going to be fine!”

“Alright, okay, but just- just promise me you’ll be smart tonight and play it safe.”

With three fingers held aloft, you answer solemnly, “I promise.”

“And don’t let Steve talk you into doing something stupid, okay? No honeypot insanity or trying to sneak into rooms or anything, you got it?”

You press your lips to your cousin’s cheek and then wipe away the smudged lipstick. “Relax, Danny. The man’s a former SEAL. What could possibly go wrong?”

You open the door of the en-suite bathroom with a small smirk tugging at your lips as Danny splutters on behind you in answer to your incendiary question.

As soon as your stiletto touches down on the carpeted floor of the luxury hotel room, you’re hit with an enthusiastic, “Woah, baby!”

“You like?” you ask with a grin, holding your arms out at your sides and giving Tani a spin to show off the dress.

Tani laughs appreciatively and lets out a low whistle. “You are smokin’ hot. I am looking… disrespectfully,” she concludes after pretending to mull over her word choice. She sneaks a glance over at her boss who’s trying and failing to draw his gaze away from the high slit that’s showing off a majority of your leg, then steps closer to you and drops her voice. “And I’m not the only one.” You shush your friend quickly and she ducks away from your playful smack with another peal of laughter.

“Wow,” Steve breathes out, practically sporting heart-eyes as he drinks in the black silk hugging every curve of your body. His piercing blue eyes blaze a trail of heat from the stilettos on your feet to the low bun your hair is swept into, and you feel your skin grow warm under his attention.

“You look pretty wow yourself,” you remark, appreciating the smart tux he’s donned, the perfectly tailored suit accenting every defined muscle on his powerful body. The blush on your face deepens when your gaze meets his, catching a glimpse of a hungry predator on the prowl.

“No, but you, Y/N,” Steve counters, his voice a low growl, “you just- I mean- wow.” He looks ready to pounce, and you’re positive he would forego the event in lieu of spending the evening in bed if there wasn’t a case riding on your performance tonight- and your cousin who you’re keeping your relationship a secret from less than a foot away.

Danny snaps in his face, directing the brunette’s attention to him. “Don’t you gawk at her like that. Paws off my baby cousin, you hear me? Better use the right head tonight, Steven, I swear.”

You dart your eyes over to your boyfriend and make an intentionally obscene gesture with your hands, indicating which head you’re thinking about. He covers up his laugh with a cough, then hurries to reassure his partner. “Danno, c’mon. I’m a perfect gentleman. Aren’t I, Y/N?”

“You’re an animal, is what you are,” your beloved cousin continues his tirade, answering for you. “Just remember I’m watching, huh? I’ve got eyes on all the cameras.”

“Alright, people, focus now,” Lou admonishes gently, handing you and Steve small communications devices that you fit snugly into your ear, out of plain sight. “Y’all remember the plan?”

“Stand there and look pretty. Don’t get shot at,” you dutifully list off your objectives for the op with an exaggerated waggling of your eyebrows while Steve tests the microphone tucked away in his bow tie. “As an unofficial member of Five-0 now, do I get a gun?”

“Are you insane?” Danny cries as Steve asks, genuinely, “Where would you even hide a gun in that dress?”

Unable to resist, you shoot him a coy smile and challenge, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Commander?”

“Woah.” Your cousin holds his hands up between the two of you and declares, “Flag on the play. Don’t- Don’t do that. No flirting. Get in, entice Lee to steal your fake diamonds, get out. Deal?”

“We’ve got it, Detective,” Steve huffs, bending down to adjust his ankle holster.

Junior approaches then with a gorgeous looking diamond necklace and announces, “Got our bait here, boss.”

“Excellent,” Steve says, taking the jewelry from him and motioning for you to turn around. He gathers the necklace in one hand, his fingers drifting across your shoulder and collarbone to grasp one end before he fits it snugly around your neck. The simple touch has your veins flooding with heat, but you tamp down your reaction, keenly aware of the multiple sets of eyes on the two of you. “Tight enough?” he murmurs, and you nod in response, not yet trusting your voice.

“Oh, and one more thing!” Lou reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box, opening it with a flourish to reveal one simple silver band, the other studded with diamonds. “Little extra bling for good measure.” Your cheeks flush at the sight, and you turn your face away from Steve while you slide the wedding ring onto your finger.

One glance at its mate on your boyfriend’s hand has you weak in the knees, and Tani whispers, “Girl, you are down bad.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, fighting the blush threatening to give you away. Steve approaches with one eyebrow raised in curiosity, and you clear your throat before taking the arm he’s offered to you. You tuck your hand into the crook of his elbow, pressing yourself close to him and sending a sharp look to your older cousin when you feel his eyes boring holes into the two of you. “Knock it off, Danny.”

He cups your face between his hands and pulls you closer to press a kiss to your forehead with an apologetic smile. “Be smart. Be safe. I love you. You watch her back, okay?” He directs the last comment to his best friend with all the gruffness of a father sending his daughter off to prom.

“I will, Danny,” Steve answers solemnly, squeezing your hand.

“Alright, buddy. But not too close, okay? Remember, I’m always watch-”

You pull the door shut behind you with a sigh. Steve guides you down the hallway towards the elevators, and your grip on his arm tightens at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

Steve immediately intuits your nerves and offers a soothing, “Hey, you’re okay.” He takes your left hand in his, his right hand coming to rest on the small of your back so you feel completely enveloped by his steadying presence. He lets his thumb drift back and forth across your skin, just above where the fabric drapes at the base of your spine, and your comms come crackling to life. “Higher.”

Steve shifts his hand up with a chuckle, and your cousin begrudgingly remarks, “Better.”

The moment relieves some of your tension, and you shake your head before pressing the call button for the elevator. The lavish gold doors open to reveal an already sizable group dressed to the nines and clearly heading to the big casino-sponsored event downstairs. Steve applies gentle pressure on your back to guide you into the elevator, and as you descend each floor and the crowd grows, you’re forced closer together in the corner. “You’re wearing a new perfume,” Steve comments, his lips right by your ear to avoid your conversation being picked up by his mic.

“How observant,” you reply. “My boyfriend bought it for me.”

“He has excellent taste,” he continues the charade, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at the compliment. With the crowd in the elevator blocking the camera’s view, Steve allows his fingers to glide down your spine until they reach their intended destination, and he sucks in a sharp breath when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under your dress. You smirk to yourself but quickly lose the upper hand, forced to swallow down a gasp when the elevator doors open into the lobby and Steve brazenly palms your ass while calmly stating, “Target acquired.”

“We see him, too,” Junior affirms. “East corner of the lobby, talking to the concierge.”

“Come on, darling,” Steve croons, settling into character- or rather dropping your usual act. “Let’s go win me some more money to spend on you.”

__________

“No entry without invitation, sir.”

You crane your neck to look up at the beefy bodyguard at the entrance to the high roller section. His biceps must be the size of your head, if not bigger, he’s got at least 6 inches on Steve, and his hulking form is completely blocking your view of the room behind him.

“Honey,” you murmur, “you brought it with you, didn’t you?”

Steve gives you an easy smile and pulls a gold-plated poker chip from the breast pocket of his tux. “Of course, my love.”

“Alright, enough with the cutesy nicknames,” Danny gripes, and you’re forced to stifle a laugh at Tani admonishing him in the background. The security guard pulls back the velvet rope to let you pass, and you duck behind the curtain to cross into the high roller area.

The room is a sea of expensive suits and sparkling cocktail dresses. A thick cloud of sweet-smelling smoke has settled in the air from the Cubans lit around the room, and the distinct symphony of ice clinking in glass tumblers joins the hum of dealers murmuring at their tables.

“Why don’t you go get us a drink and I’ll find a table to join?”

“The usual?” you purr in question, running your manicured fingers across the lapel of Steve’s suit.

“That’s perfect,” he assents, squeezing your hip before releasing you to do your own recon. Then you feel his fingers lace through yours and he murmurs, “Y/N, wait.” When you turn back to Steve, he tugs you closer by your connected hands and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that has your head buzzing before a drop of alcohol has even hit your tongue. “Lee’s watching,” he whispers against your mouth by way of explanation.

“Then let’s give him something to look at,” you respond with a glint in your eye, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Steve’s left hand comes up to rest on the nape of your neck as the other caresses the diamond fitted snuggly against the hollow of your throat, making sure that it catches the light just so as you lay the groundwork for your operation tonight.

“He’s practically suffocating her,” Danny cries in the hotel room upstairs, hands raised while he stares at the two of you in disbelief. “What’d I say about ‘not too close’, huh? Animal.”

“Okay, lovebirds, get some air,” Lou chuckles over your comms. “Seems like our man Lee has his eye on the prize now.”

Junior leans over to Tani as he watches the two of you part ways on screen, tracking your path to the bar with a skeptical brow. “Is it just me, or was that… intense?”

“C’mon, Junes,” she laughs breezily. “That is theater at its finest.”

“One scotch on the rocks, and one vodka tonic that’s light on the tonic,” you place your order at the bar, absentmindedly letting your fingers drift over the diamonds as you peruse the top shelf.

“Easy there, cowgirl,” Danny coaches in your ear. You look around for the nearest mounted dome camera and make a face at it. “Real mature, kid.”

You feel a heated gaze on your back, and you turn to flash a coy smile at Mister Jason Lee, the suspected brains behind the smuggling operation, before collecting your drinks and making your way back to Steve.

“He’s interested,” you murmur in his ear as you bend down to place the glass between his hands on the table. “But we need to really hook him. Better start throwing some money around, hotshot.”

“Go ahead, baby,” Steve says animatedly, attracting the attention of the other players around the table. He makes a big show of closing his eyes and letting you bet for him, clearly unaffected by winning or losing a few hundred on your blind faith. As you lean over to push a stack of chips towards the pot, you hear an appreciative titter around the table and turn to find Steve with one eye very obviously peeking- but definitely not at what your hands are doing.

“Naughty boy,” you scold playfully, and he offers his palms in an act of mock deference.

“Can you blame the man?” one of the other players barks out through a raucous laugh, and you smile politely even though their leering eyes make your skin crawl. When you bend to retrieve your drink, Steve moves closer with a grin and whispers in your ear, “If one of them so much as breathes in your direction, I’ll break off every one of their fingers and feed them to ‘em, okay, mama?”

Acutely aware that Danny and the rest of the team are watching your every interaction, you suppress a shiver and murmur back, “Sir, yes, sir.”

Steve has mixed luck on his first few hands, but you’re sure to make a big show of celebrating each win with a kiss that has the older women in the room clutching their proverbial pearls and Lee hanging onto your every move. You toy with the necklace as a nervous habit each time Steve places his bet and let your fingers trail across his broad shoulders as he studies each hand, squeezing affectionately every now and then.

“I hate this,” Danny declares, a dismayed frown tugging at his lips as he watches you on the live CCTV footage. On the small screen, you drape your arms around Steve’s neck and press a kiss to his cheek before murmuring something in his ear that’s too quiet for the hidden mic to pick up but has Steve grinning like a fool. “I hate this. Why did I let him talk me into this? Putz.”

“Relax, Danny,” Lou attempts to soothe his ruffled feathers. “They’re doing great.”

“Hey, hey, look!” Tani calls to garner their attention. “They’ve lured Lee in. He’s about to make contact.”

“Good evening,” he opens politely, pulling out the chair next to Steve.

“Evening,” your boyfriend offers in kind.

“Do you mind if I join you for the next hand?”

“Not at all,” you purr. “Perhaps you can help break my husband’s current losing streak.”

“With a good luck charm like you on his arm?” Lee counters smoothly. “Impossible.”

“From your mouth to the cards’ ears,” you laugh airily. “Let me go get you another drink, my love,” you say to excuse yourself, running your hand down Steve’s arm to collect his glass. “Can I get you anything, Mister…?”

“Good girl,” Tani praises you quietly over your comms.

“Lee,” he supplies. “But please, call me Jason.” He raises the remaining amber liquid in his glass with a smile then says, “Perhaps when I finish this drink, I’ll have what your husband’s having. Clearly he’s got excellent taste.” The way his eyes wander across your body isn’t lost on you.

“Arrogant son of a bitch,” Lou scoffs to his fellow team members upstairs. “Not even using an alias.”

Steve notices Lee’s hungry gaze straying from his cards to appreciate your form against the backdrop of the expansive bar and remarks, “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Indeed,” he agrees, swirling the expensive liquor in his glass before taking a sip. “Women like that are hard to find. As rare as that diamond around her neck.”

“Laying it on thick there, buddy,” Danny comments over your comms, and you steal a glance over to the table. “Take the bait, Steve.”

“Only the finest for my girl.”

When you return to the table with your and Steve’s drinks in hand, he hooks his ankle around the chair beside him and tugs it close for you to sit by him. “Slick move, double-oh-five-oh,” you murmur appreciatively in his ear before nipping at his earlobe. He seems extra possessive now, his hand either resting on your thigh, or your hip, or the back of your neck, always maintaining some form of skin to skin contact while the other holds his cards, and you can’t help but wonder what transpired between the two men.

Leaning over, Steve presses his lips to the point where your pulse thrums along your throat and asks, “What should we bet, beautiful girl?”

“Hm?” Your gaze is hazy, more so drunk on Steve’s touch than alcohol, and the unbidden thought that you can’t wait for this guy to be in cuffs so you can take your man home crosses your mind. You run your manicured fingers down his cheek and answer coyly, “I want you to go all in.”

The two of you dutifully ignore Danny’s protesting in your ears at your overt innuendo as Steve pushes his stack of chips to the center of the table.

“A bold move,” Lee declares with a whistle.

“What’s a few thousand when I have a million on my arm, hm?” your boyfriend counters with a sly glance in your direction.

“Let’s make this a real game. I’m all in, too.”

The dealer flips over the river card, and Steve’s arm tenses beneath your fingertips. The other few players around the table toss their cards aside with a sigh, but Lee looks over at the two of you with a grin, presenting his hand- a flush- with a flourish. He stands to collect the pot but Steve holds up one finger.

“Not so fast, my friend,” he laughs, his confidence making your body grow warm. Steve lays his hand out on the table with a smug smile. “Full house. Aces over eights.”

You let out an excited squeal, genuinely delighted at such a triumphant win, and pull Steve toward you by the lapels of his jacket to mold your lips to his. He makes an appreciative noise low in the back of his throat and his hand comes up to cup your neck in an overtly possessive manner that has you melting into his embrace. You feel his fingers playing with the clasp resting at the nape of your neck, and then the necklace falls into your lap, the next phase of your ruse in full effect now.

You pull back with a gasp and pout at Steve, your eyes wide. “It broke!”

“Then I’ll buy you ten more,” he answers easily, shrugging off your concern. “Go put it upstairs and don’t give it a second thought, okay?” He presses his lips to yours once more and gives you an affectionate pat below the dip of your dress when you stand that has you blushing. You can practically feel Danny’s laser eyes through the screen where he’s watching you.

You make sure to wobble the tiniest bit when you move, steadying yourself on Steve’s shoulder with a laugh. “What was our room number, honey?”

He shares a knowing look with your mark, then jokes, “How many vodka tonics have you had, hm? How many fingers am I holding up?” He has his fist raised and you smack at his chest with an eye roll. “217, my love,” Steve supplies before taking your hand and kissing the wedding band adorning your ring finger.

You head upstairs to the empty room the team had rented for this very purpose and place the necklace in the carefully concealed safe in the cupboard. When you return to the table, you find Steve alone.

“Where’s our friend?”

“Turned in for the night after that big loss,” your boyfriend supplies, winking at you. “Shall we?”

He offers you his arm, and after collecting his winnings, the two of you make your way to the lobby to lie in wait. “You’re going to be insufferable about that win forever now, aren’t you?”

“You said I was bad at poker,” Steve reminds you.

“You still are,” you fire back. “Dumb luck one time does not a skilled player make.”

“Jeez, boss,” Junior’s voice comes crackling in over your comms. “Want some ice for that burn?”

“Would you just- would you shut up and focus on the room, please?”

After a few minutes of waiting with no sighting of Lee, you lean into Steve’s chest and ask the team, “Anything?”

“Girl, hop off the mic,” Lou admonishes you, and you jump back from Steve. “We can hear you when you talk normally. Damn.”

Leaning back in, this time you whisper, “Sorry, guys.”

“Hey, McGarrett?” Tani speaks calmly but you can hear an edge of tension to her voice. “At your 4 o’clock, there’s two guys in suits who’ve had an eye on your table all night. I thought they were watching for potential card counting but they seem to have taken an interest in you and Y/N.”

“Copy,” Steve says quietly, pulling you closer to his body in a protective move in case all hell breaks loose.

“Let’s just show them we’re not a threat,” you offer.

“You want to go back in?”

“I was thinking of a more… hands on approach.” As the clicking of Italian leather shoes on the polished floor grows closer to you, you spin Steve around and push him against the wall, crashing into him for a heated kiss. His strong hands caress your bare back for a moment before one stays put to hold you against him while the other deftly undoes the knot holding your bun, your hair cascading down to its full length so Steve can use it for better leverage. You can’t help but moan into his mouth as he kisses you like a man starved until you’re shaken from your stupor by yelling approaching the lobby.

“Hey! Five-0! Stop running, dumbass!”

Without opening your eyes or breaking your kiss, you stick your foot out at the opportune time, making contact with the ankle of your diamond thief’s leg so he goes sprawling. There’s a faint splash to your right, and when you pull away for a breath, you can see your necklace winking at you from the lobby fountain.

Danny catches up to the scene and yells, “Hands- hey! Hands!”

Lee raises his hands above his head with a sigh, but your cousin continues on, “You two! Yeah, let me see your hands, too!” You turn to find Danny’s gun aimed at the diamond smuggler, but his fiery eyes are trained on you while Tani and Junior wrestle the other two lackeys to the floor nearby. You exchange a look with Steve, then feel the warmth of his palms leave your bare skin as the two of you slowly raise your hands as well. Clearing your throat, you offer meekly, “We’re really into method acting?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Danny growls, slapping zip ties on a defiant Lee and ratcheting them tight before hauling him to his feet.

“Hey, man, ease up,” he whines and Danny barks, “You shut up.” He continues lamenting his woes audibly as he leads the thief to the waiting squad car, grumbling, “Had enough of all of you. My baby cousin and my best friend. Christ. What am I gonna tell my aunt?”

Steve whistles low under his breath when Danny’s out of earshot, then mutters, “That could’ve gone better.”

“On the plus side,” you comment, “he still referred to you as his best friend.”

Tani shoots you a sympathetic smile when she passes by with the man she apprehended, but Junior wastes no time leaning in and playfully tutting, “Bus-ted.” Steve raises one eyebrow and he tacks on a hurried, “Sir.”

—————

With Lee and his crew stewing in interrogation and HPD clearing the scene, you’re left sitting on the couch in Steve’s office like kids who got sent to the principal for misbehaving in school. The three of you must look ridiculous from the rest of the team’s point of view- you clad in spare clothes from Steve’s wardrobe in his office that you’re positively swimming in, your 40-plus-year-old boyfriend in a full tux with his bow tie and top few buttons undone, hand pressed over his mouth to avoid saying something that will further incense your cousin, and said cousin still dressed in his shirt and tie pacing the floor in front of you with his hands flying to emphasize every point he makes.

“And you-” Danny pauses his pacing to point an accusatory finger at his best friend. “How old are you, huh?” The finger changes angles to point at you. “And how old is she?”

“Do you want me to actually answer the quest-”

“No, Steve, they’re rhetorical questions! I know how old you are, and I’ll tell you! Too old for my baby cousin, that’s how old, huh? What’s the matter with you?”

“Why don’t you let Y/N speak for herself, Danny? Gotta let her grow up, buddy, c’mon now.”

“Thank you!” you cry. “Can I say something?”

The blonde and brunette duo turns to look at you with the same infuriating, incredulous look before simultaneously deciding, “No.”

“Alright, y’know what?” You slap your hands against your thighs and stand with a huff. “You two-” You point back and forth between Steve and Danny before continuing, “You work out your little marital spat. Daniel, when you’re ready to talk to me like the adult I am, I’ll be with Tani. After I drink some water. Because I’m still buzzed.” With that, you attempt to walk out of your boyfriend’s office with your head held high but are thwarted by the door, pushing on it to no avail.

“It’s a pull-” Danny says quietly, and Steve jumps in at the same time, “Pull, babe, you gotta pull on the-”

“I got it,” you bark at them, tugging on the glass door with a grumble about architectural intuitiveness.

After a long conversation with Steve and a short interrogation with Lee and his associates, Danny finds you nursing a bottle of water in Tani’s office, as promised. She slips out as your cousin takes a seat next to you, pulling you into a hug that you allow yourself to melt into even though you mutter all the while under your breath about his overprotective nature.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t just tell me you were seeing Steve.”

Woah. What?

“What?” Danny laughs. “You were right. We should talk about this like adults.”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“The ‘Woah. What?’? Yeah, you did, babe, it was very much not an inside thought.”

“Excellent,” you laugh, nodding solemnly. “Well, um, thank you for that. And sorry for not coming out and just telling you.”

“Guess I made it pretty hard for you to tell me, huh? What with the two rules and-”

“Yup.”

“But everybody else knew or-”

“Tani knew, cause she’s my girl, y’know. Grace figured it out pretty quickly. Pretty sure Lou’s had a feeling since at least Thanksgiving, honestly.”

Danny sits back with a start, pulling away from your hug. “How long has this been going on?”

With a sigh, you realize it’s time to come clean. “You remember when I wanted to go on that dive with you, and you said I should take Steve since you don’t ‘do water’? Well, Steve took me to this really beautiful dive spot and we kind of made a day of it so…”

“That was like-”

“A while-”

“Like seven months ago!”

“I mean, we didn’t exactly start dating on that day- well, no, we kind of did,” you correct yourself quietly, biting your lip with a grimace, but Danny’s already halfway across the floor back to Steve’s office. Lou takes the opportunity to poke his head in to check on you and you draw out a slow, “So Lou…” He raises one eyebrow in question, and you dare to ask, “Would now be a bad time to tell Danny about Will and Grace?”

—————

Tagging you beautiful people who commented for me to finish writing this 🖤

@the-silentium @ilovewriting06 @jamie2305 @kelssssxd @cassadilasworld

[kenny-the-ken]

Alone at Last Pt 1

Kyle's fic should be out already by the time this gets posted, so I hope you guys enjoy it!! This one I am sooooo excited for, I might actually make it a small series, drug dealer Kenny is my weakness, cause he most definitely would sell drugs, and take drugs most likely. Warnings: NSFW content, not suitable for minors, drugs, alcohol and strong language!! AGED UP CHARACTERS

"Let's get the fuck outta hear." Kenny spoke to you on the phone, he'd had another argument with his parents, and this was the final straw.

"They think I'm a like a charity! I sell drugs for a living, I ain't gonna make no money if they keep taking all my product!" He shouted, loud enough for his parents to hear, and you could hear them screaming back at him in the background.

"Ken, babe, come over." Your tone was gentle, calming, and that was just what Kenny needed right now, he physically and mentally couldn't take it anymore. He was trying his best to make the most out of a shitty situation, and once again his parents were ruining it.

"I will babe, not until I pack all my shit first, I ain't coming back to this shithole, I'd rather shoot myself in the head again, it's more enjoyable." He shouted back at his parents, and you knew his frustrations. You and Kenny had been dating for a while now (3 years), and you had lost track of how many arguments he and his parents have had over the years, and how many times Kenny had appeared at your house, battered and bruised.

"My mom's out, Ken. Come over." You said once more, and Kenny let out a long sigh, you could hear rustling in the background, as if things were being put into plastic bags.

"I'll be there in ten. I love you."

"I love you too, Ken."

And with that the line went dead. You knew Kenny's resolve was worn incredibly thin, much like your own. Your mother was no where near as bad as Kenny's parents, but she put drugs and men before you, she always had and she always would. You were just thankful that you were an only child, Kenny wasn't that lucky.

You sat pondering in your own thoughts as you heard a loud knock at the door, and you opened it, Kenny walking inside, his car parked outside, and looking full to the brim with his possessions.

"When's your mom coming back?" Kenny asked, wrapping his slender arms delicately around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Not a fucking clue, she never even tells me when she's heading out, never mind when she's coming back. Why, what's wrong?" You enquired, wrapping your own arms around Kenny's neck, balancing on your tip toes to place a kiss on his lips before he spoke.

"I meant what I said on the phone, y/n. Pack your stuff, we're getting the fuck outta this god forsaken town once and for all. Somewhere we'll not be judged for not being well off, somewhere we can actually thrive together. The only good thing that's came from living here is meeting you, please say you'll come with me?" His eyes were soft, pleading with you to join him, and you smiled back at him, his serious face melting away into one of sheer relief.

"Let's do it. We've got each other, we don't need anyone or anything else. Come help me pack." You spoke, taking Kenny by the hand, leading him to your bedroom.

"We could always get frisky before we go." Kenny flirted, giving your ass a slap, making you jump in surprise, spinning to look at him.

"Or I could suck you off while you drive down the freeway?" You offered, knowing that Kenny would never turn down an offer like that.

"Then what are we waiting for babe, let's get your stuff packed and get this show on the road!" Kenny exclaimed, a smirk on his face as you both began cramming clothes, shoes, makeup and anything else you owned into two large suitcases. You lifted your glass bong and Kenny took it from you.

"I've got a box in the back of the car that this can go into so it doesn't get broken, babe." He said, pulling an unlit joint from his jacket pocket, placing it delicately between his chapped, pale pink lips and sparking it up, taking a long drag of it and exhaling, passing it to you.

"You ready to go, babe?" You asked as Kenny took down one of the pictures from your bedroom wall, and put it under his arm.

"Can't forget our prom photo, now can we? Now get your sexy ass into the car and I'll bring your stuff out and put it in the back." Kenny spoke, as you passed the joint back to him, it now hanging from his lips lazily as he puffed on it a few times.

And finally, once everything was inside, you both smiled at each other, smoking the joint between you both as Kenny rolled down all the windows as the car reached the last part of South Park.

"See you never, assholes!" Kenny shouted from the window, and you let out a few whoops yourself, both of you smiling stupidly at each other on your way to make a new life.

[seat-safety-switch]

Becoming rich hasn't changed me. I'm still all about teaching the average person how to fix their own stuff. For instance, I just launched this new YouTube channel called "Accountability." You might think that's a weird name, but let me explain.

Each and every one of the things that has broken on you throughout the course of your life has been touched by an engineering team of some kind. Most of the time, that failure was planned. Even if not malicious, someone's manager told them to cut out all the doomsaying and save a few bucks here and there by making the part flimsier, or stop updating the software, or not give it a second turn in the etchant mixture because we gotta ship this thing now buddy, now, so I can get my bonus.

You can get mad about it all you want, but that anger could be unjustified, something the Buddha says is a big ol' bummer on your road to enlightenment. The question is, how do you know if the failure was planned or if they genuinely didn't know?

That's where my YouTube channel comes in. Remember, it's named "Accountability," and that's just what we do. I spend the billions of dollars that my cocaine kingpin uncle, Sniff Safety-Switch, gave to me on travelling the world, and investigating the individual people behind the things you use (and break) every day.

Then, once I've got them on camera, I tie them to a chair and pull their teeth out, one by one, until they tell me the truth about their quality-assurance plans. Last week, we had the guy who made the little rubber stopper on the end of my cheese grater fall off. He didn't want to spend an extra five cents per unit on a better glue, so he told production to cut it, knowing full well that it would crack after a few years and cause me to slip and scrape my knuckles while preparing a macaroni and cheese feast. Let me tell you this: he is very sorry now, and he would like to offer you a full refund.

Sure, this money might not last long (advertising revenues are in the shitter,) but I don't do it for the money. I do it for humanity. Please like and subscribe.