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xxsycamore · 3 months ago

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╰┈➤ When you discover a mysterious hole in a restroom inside the Crown castle, you're ready to catch the ill-doers of whatever forbidden exchange is taking place and take them straight to Victor. Little do you know, your curiosity would lead you to give more and more of yourself to that ridiculous cause, night after night. And you might just end up enjoying it.

— William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Ellis, Jude, Roger, Victor x f!Reader

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Glory Hole; Anonymous Sex; Corruption; Hand Jobs; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Come Eating; Come Swallowing; Deepthroating; Masturbation; Dirty Thoughts; Smoking; Objectification; Overstimulation; Penis Size; Multiple Orgasms; Ruined Orgasms; Vaginal Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Size Difference; Large Cock; Creampie; Breast Fucking; Dirty Talk; Squirting/Vaginal Ejaculation • wordcount: 5,836 • masterlist

a/n: I've had this idea for a while now and here it is, finally. One of the longest smuts I've written and definitely one that I'm proud of. Enjoy!

⏮ ⏯ ⏭ NIN - The Wretched

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 2: Glory Holes

NINE NIGHTS.

Among the many things you've been warned about when you first started living at the castle, you couldn't help but be curious the most about one thing. That infamous communal restroom located at the very end of the left wing's top-floor corridor. Remoted and basically isolated from the lively parts of the castle, if it weren't for the obscene rumor Alfons shared with you, you might not have discovered such a place exists at all. Actually, you're still not convinced if it truly exists. It's all too much like the hedonistic bastard to mess with your head like that.

That's why you're on a mission to do a little investigation on your own.

Arriving at the dimly lit location, your anticipation is flattened by the lack of anything obscure to be found. The restroom hardly differs from the ones you've seen around the place: well-maintained and designed accordingly to match the elegant style of the castle. One side is for the ladies, the other for the gentlemen; two different entrances, a wall separating them right in the middle.

You don't know why you even bother going as far as peeking an eye inside the stalls, but nothing appears to be amiss there as well.

Apart from one thing.

You nearly missed it in the sparse light, but the cut-out hole in the wooden wall inside the second stall stands starkly against the otherwise well-polished surface of it.

Suddenly it all clicks, and you remember Alfons' words.

"Rumor has it that around eleven in the evening, people go there to partake in rather... scandalous exchanges. Both parties are provided with anonymity and everything that takes place inside the restroom stays there. We might be a modest group of inhibitors here, little Robin, but everyone has their needs. We don't judge which part of the partition you choose to be on."

This has to be about drugs! As outrageous as it is, it perfectly explains the hole - large enough to serve for the purpose of one such "exchange", the wooden wall in-between separating provider and client.

You chose to linger around here just early enough to be able to leave without witnessing what does - or does not - happen in the established hour, and just close enough to it in case if, for some reason, you'd want to stay and find out for yourself. This means you can perfectly well remain waiting in the stall, catch the culprit red-handed, and take him straight to Victor. You're sure he knows nothing of this, it can't be otherwise.

You don't have to dwell in your thoughts for much longer, because in the perfectly tranquil air around you, you're able to pick up the soft noise of the door opening on the other side. Readily, you prepare to grab hold of whatever is inserted through the hole and see if your hunch is correct.

Little do you know, the sight will make you reconsider at once. You blink your eyes several times when you look down.

It takes you everything not to scream, barely being fast enough to clasp a hand around your own mouth, as soon as you realize what you're looking at.

Whoever is on the other side of the restroom is currently giving access to a certain part of themselves, and by the way it stands erect and demanding attention, you can imagine just one possible scenario of what the person on your side of the partition is expected to do with it.

The breath hitches in your throat. Will you be found out if you were to exit right now? Even if you won't be seen, even if anyone else could have been here, in your place…

A very dangerous thought fills your head, and you know listening to it should be the last thing you do. Still, for the sake of getting to the bottom of this and not disrupting any of it just yet, you start to think it might not be that bad if you just…

Hesitantly, your hand reaches out until your fingertips can almost graze the very tip of the cock in front of you. Eyes falling closed for a second, nine different faces flash through your mind. Nine possibilities. It's as if this changes everything between you and the mysterious man on the other side, when in reality it changes nothing at all. You think back to your fellow Crownmates, as if trying to see if the thought of any of them pushes you away, but to no avail.

You might have lost your mind. Fingers slowly curling around the hot flesh in front of you, the initial contact is far easier than you thought. You start pumping the hardness in your fist right away, noting the way it slightly swells in your hand, despite already seeming quite aroused.

The slight tremble of your fingers is perhaps a welcomed side-effect of the adrenaline coursing through your system, as the cock in your hand is very receptive to your actions. You wonder to yourself if the person on the other side is used to this sort of thing. Or maybe it's his first time here too, his curiosity getting the better of him. Just like you, in a way. However, he's clearly being able to get off on that thrill. It must be contagious because you become bolder with your movements and your eyes are no longer shy to the sight in front of you. It's embarassing not to be able to take your eyes away, but you can't help it - there's something so fine about it; the size and shape of it, the saturated pink color of the glossy tip, the small bud of precum threatening to spill over with excitement on the next enthusiastic throb…

In just a couple more strokes, the object of your admiration closes the spectacle with a rather grandiose final act… The vigorous spurts of its culmination leave a milky-white trail down the crevices of your fingers as you marvel at the sheer amount he came.

Giving him one last base-to-top stoke, nice and slowly, you catch yourself being so captivated by the obscure display that you're almost disappointed when it all ends and you snap back to reality.

Time to splash some cold water on your face.

The sound of a grandfather clock announcing eleven in the evening is coming from afar but you still hear it without mistake. You've found yourself in this cursed place again, albeit with hesitation. Going back to the events of last night leaves you with mixed feelings. For one, you swear you're being fooled with. Is this Alfons' sick idea of having fun? Luring you to some shady place, provoking you to commit unspeakable acts… You bet there are no other parties even involved in this to begin with. Who knows what the hole really is for, but to use it the way he did… it truly takes an unhinged imagination, you have to admit. Now you just have to find him back at the scene of the crime - God knows they always come back - and this time you won't be so generous. It's not exactly a plan that you have but you'll do something, anything.

Still, you can't help but notice there was something off about last night's mysterious visitor. He didn't quite strike you to be anything like Alfons. Not that you want to spend too much time thinking about what he's supposed to be like down there, or the specific mannerisms you can tell him by, or…

Suddenly there's movement and you hold your breath in anticipation as you prepare to look down.

This is…definitely not the same cock.

This can't be.

Without thinking much, you grab a hold of the sizeable appendage as if to explore it more. Maybe the limited light is playing tricks on you.

Your thumb grazes a slightly protruding vein on the side, something you might have missed yesterday, or you might have not. Though the visual difference is becoming less and less the more you overthink it, the feeling of it in your warm palm is notably different. You don't even know how you get on your knees, but you try to make the most of the new angle.

The stranger, whoever he might be, seems to enjoy the way you're fooling around, much to your own surprise. Almost as if he wants to encourage you to explore more, to do whatever you want. Soon enough it becomes awkward to just examine him like that when he's probably here to feel pleasure. Even in your stubbornness to recognize him as the man from last night, you start stroking and massaging the girth in your closed fist. Stimulating the sensitive skin on the head makes it pulse so tantalizingly, and running the fingertip of your other thumb down the protruding vein almost tips him over the edge…You don't mind this reaction. What's more, you pretty much want to finish what you started.

Unexpectedly, the length of the stranger's cock retracts almost completely back inside the hole with just its head sticking out. The sturdy repetitive motion indicates that the man is taking care of himself while still giving you access to the product of his upcoming climax.

What does he want you to do with his cum? Does he want to paint your open palms white, or maybe if he could say so, he would prefer to color your lips white with his come?

The moment he finishes with what seems to be a glorious orgasm, your sticky fingertip has almost made it to your mouth in a rush of curiosity. You have no idea what's the use of doing something like this when he won't even be able to see it.

During your haze, you think you see a painted glossy red fingernail as you watch the cock of the stranger disappear.

You must be imagining things.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

You guess that the third time is saved for the shameless.

This is exactly what you are, as you find yourself kneeling on the cool tiles on another late night. The initial shock of finding yet another unfamiliar piece of flesh left at your disposal is washed away by the growing sense of thrill that you're starting to get familiar with, more with each passing night. Combined with just a little bit of "since you're already here".

You wonder how fast can you make this one cum. All this time and you're yet to use your mouth, maybe now is a good chance to try it.

Thankfully the other side knows nothing of the fever rising up to your cheeks. Not feeling eyes on you helps you be bolder with your actions, and you feel like an absolute tease. Once you pop the well-formed head in your mouth, your tongue shows no mercy to the painfully erect cock.

A few agonizing slow licks across the length of it seem to be the last straw for the stranger. But not in the sense you're expecting.

In a flash, your mouth is left to hang open and empty; like a lollipop's been taken away from you. A cold shiver runs through you. Did you go too far? Was it not to his liking?

You're not yet fully seated back on your knees in confusion before he gives you a "second chance". Almost as if you're starved, you hurry to take him in again, saliva overflowing from the corner of your mouth and lubricating him for some earnest bobbing of your head. You're going to pleasure him properly this time.

Except, this leads to the same result.

The pause is shorter now, and you get the impression that he's toying with you. Does he want you to please him, or does he not? Which one is the truth?

You fall for his tricks time and time again, because you just can't help it. Awaiting for him to stick his cock back into the hole is rather humiliating but each time your mouth salivates more with the eagerness to welcome him deep inside. He only stills when he's noticeably on the verge of orgasm, and you take him as deep as he lets you. You're a bit tense at this point - should he snap his hips and thrust further in, you're likely to choke on him.

Drinking down on every last drop of his come, you don't know why you're so relieved that his last gesture was not a lie. You just know that you're left to yourself once again. And the whole ordeal has made you horny.

Another day passes in your busy life as a fairytale keeper.

Most of the missions you're assigned are fast-paced enough to keep you fully occupied; senses being constantly put to the test, mind projecting gruesome pictures you've seen through the day and turning them into words at the end of it, once you sit in front of your typewriter.

Yet there are those little pockets of time when the world slows down for you and your fellow Crown members. Traveling from location to location; gathering in the foyer waiting for Victor… It's easy to zone out.

Your gaze moves from Liam's pretty lips curling in a small laughter as he conversates with Harrison, to Harrison stretching out while he listens; to Elbert's tall frame as he looks out the window next to them, to Alfons staring at him, putting one leg over the other as he stirs the steamy liquid in his cup. Which ones? Which ones of them have visited that place? You have very little to go off of. Someone's hand enters your field of vision. Delicate, long fingers drumming against a hard surface. You dart your gaze to another. Roughened palms. And another. Concealed by dark gloves.

Skin textures. Shoe sizes. Limbs stretching out.

It's not until someone asks you if you're alright - "You've been terribly quiet all this time!" - that you shake off your inappropriate thoughts and scold yourself for having them in the first place.

The next time you find yourself in the stall, you're almost glad to give head to someone who's clearly cutting to the chase. There's not much shuffling or repositioning from the other side of the partition, and you're able to focus on the weight in your mouth.

Tonight's stranger is no less well-endowed but you'd say he's a little more on the thicker side compared to your previous experiences. Accidentally grazing him with your teeth makes you hear an annoyed single stomp of a shoe against the floor tiles on the other side. This only motivates you to do better, and you truly do your best sucking him off.

Your ears pick up something different this time. This quick striking noise reminds you of a match being lit… Even with the task you're focused on, your senses remain sharp, and you swear you can smell cigarette smoke.

Here you are, sucking off some guy while he treats himself to a smoke. Things can't get any cruder from this point on.

But you don't mind it at all. This is of mutual interest for both parties, that's only fair. So you don't think much of it your hand makes its way down south, searching underneath layers of clothing until it finds aching hot flesh, begging to be pleasured.

Getting off to your scandalous adventures has been common practice for you the last few days, but it definitely feels better to claim your pleasure here, at the core moment of it.

The closer you get to your own orgasm, the faster your head moves back and forth. All it takes to send you over the edge is the feeling of hot cum being disposed in your welcoming mouth, and you join him by coming there on the floor, unknown to the stranger.

He loses no time removing his spent cock. You can hear the grinding of a heel as he stamps out his cigarette. And he's gone.

Now you're left to wonder why it feels so good to be used by someone on their smoke break.

Tonight sees you crossing yet another boundary.

Things are going on in a less formulaic fashion, with no hurry at all, and it's not that you're not enjoying it- quite the opposite - but you can't help being curious about something. How bad would it be if you were to gain just a little bit of pleasure for yourself from all of this? Surely you won't be found out if you were to share another piece of yourself with the stranger on the other side different from your mouth and your hands. You're far from the thought that some of the female staff don't know about this place. So you don't hesitate positioning yourself upright and facing the wall, close enough that your body is pressed against it.

You don't ask for much, just to feel that delicious hardness against your swollen folds. The very first contact shoots sparks of pure ecstasy through you. The angry-red tip of the man's cock graces against your clit and you nearly mewl out in pleasure. So you do that again, until you're practically grinding yourself on it like a tool conveniently left for your pleasure.

You'd feel selfish and guilty about this if it weren't for the fact that your actions are getting the stranger off as well. You've already slicked him up with your saliva thoroughly, given him attention which has been enough for others to reach their peak. This one seems to have a rather high endurance, but interestingly no other method of play gets him going the same way as you pleasuring yourself on him. Is this what he wants? You're afraid you're not able to stop now, at least not until you cum. Which happens all too soon, with your legs shaking from overstimulation as the cock underneath you remains swollen and upright and poking your folds again and again while you try to catch your breath.

And then he cums. Just like that, without assistance from your side… Or maybe it's your pleasure that did it for him? This is a strange one, for sure… But you like him.

The cock you're currently stoking with both hands is long and elegant, with a rather pale complexion, further emphasized by the blue-ish veins at the base. You can't help but be gracious with your ministrations as you pleasure it, and surely enough, it doesn't take enough to push the man it belongs to over the edge. He spills thickly in your hands and you kiss the tip of it, careful as not to overstimulate it too much… But when you expect an early end to tonight's rendezvous, it seems like it's far from it. Without any indication of him leaving, you realize he's still pretty much hard. So you resume your actions, albeit timidly at first.

It quickly turns into you full-on sucking him off, seeing that your hands won't be enough anymore. His ample length is a little too much for you to take, so you're relieved once he successfully fills your mouth of his cum, a lot less thicker this time. Except, it's still not over. Such a greedy bastard, exploiting you for greater and greater pleasures each time.

Taking in a large portion of breath and exhaling slowly while you contemplate something, you finally decide to take the next step. You can do what you did last night… but facing the other way around, and maybe, just maybe adding a little bit of penetration to the mix.

It takes little effort nesting him inside your tight core because of how wet you've gotten in the meantime, much to your own surprise. Fine, you can be greedy too. Leaning forward until your palms are flat against the opposite wall of the cramped room, you soon fall into a steady pace fucking yourself back and forth on the man's cock that's once again rock solid and pulsing deliciously inside you.

Despite the high libido of the man, he prefers remaining rather still while you move your hips on him, never breaking his reserved and elegant stance. Huffing out a weary emission of air as you're left to shoulder all of the work, you focus on your own pleasure instead, since you're on the verge of cumming.

Your orgasm is rudely interrupted by the other party's own orgasm as he slips out of you and sprays your aching folds with his emission. Already having taken what he was after, he soon exits your sight, leaving you to your own devices as you finger yourself to a rather unsatisfying orgasm on the floor.

Still holding a grudge from the previous night, your storm in the restroom determined to be as ruthless as you need to be and claim your own pleasure first and foremost.

Little do you know, however, that tonight is going to be another test for you.

You're making yourself familiar with yet another stranger tonight - despite being ready to bet that it's high time you're met with a repeat - as you test the waters on this new shape presented before you. He's thicker than any of the previous men. Hell, he's thicker than anything you've ever seen. The massiveness of it in your hands and how he dwarfs them honestly intimidates you. But you remind yourself of your resolve and decide to remain firm as you slowly take things further with him.

Spending too much time on oral is not a part of the plan as you don't want him coming too soon, but you discover that it has nothing to do with your plans anyway. Fitting him inside your mouth proves to be a challenge, and the pathetic way you just soak him in saliva and withdraw every time you take a little more than his head in your mouth makes you feel embarrassed.

Slowly rising to your feet, you accept that you might have to spend a little more time in here tonight. You hope your legs can take it, as you take off your underwear and stretch yourself open for the big intrusion.

Piercing yourself on his tan cock knocks the air out of your lungs as you feel so, so full of him. Without any option but to take it slowly, you massage and grope at your forms as you try to relax your walls around him as much as you can.

Suddenly the thick knob on the wall which you've been using similarly to the previous two nights becomes rather animated as he withdraws until nearly slipping out of your tight entrance, only to quickly thrust back in. Perhaps he got bored with your excuse of a service so far. Clasping both hands around your mouth, you have no choice but to receive his thrusts, the pace quickly building up, as you have to do your best to remain on your feet. Opting for leaning on the opposite wall instead, you have to choose between balance and keeping your mouth shut, as both prove to be hard to achieve at the same time. The man thrusts in and out of you, without a care in the world, and you don't notice how your hands are sliding further and further down until you're practically bent over the tiny space.

This man is an absolute monster. Time goes by in a haze as you find yourself cumming and again around the thick cock inside you, drenching him in your juices until they begin to run down your legs and onto the tiled floor. His stamina is insane - the fact that he can keep going while you're a wrecked mess is scaring you, and you don't know how much more you can take.

When you can't move anymore to meet his thrusts, thankfully his own pace becomes broken in telltale signs of his upcoming orgasm. You need his cum inside you like a trophy. You worked hard for it.

His load is nothing short of pure virility, copious amounts flooding up your insides and joining the rest of the fluids on the floor in a display of utmost obscenity.

You barely make it to your room on your doe legs.

The previous night left you with a pleasant soreness between your legs and the size you're working with today is too big for you to even think about repeating the same scenario. It's gifted in length; pinkish and with a lot of foreskin. Another new one, much to your surprise. And another absolute monster of a cock.

Since your wrecked pussy is off-limits, you begin to worry about pleasuring this one - especially when you think back to how utterly greedy the last two visitors were.

An idea pops into your head.

You start off with the usual, lubricating the shaft with the wetness of your tongue as you suck, massage and kiss every sensitive spot. And there seem to be plenty of them. It's been some time since you've had such a receptive cock in your hands. It's quite lively with its constant little twitches as you get distracted taking it further in your mouth, almost gagging on its generous length. But enough of that.

Using one hand, you unbutton your shirt while simultaneously stoking the cock in front of you, not wanting to ignore him for a second. Once your breasts are freed, keep your kneeling position but get closer to the wall, hotness rising to your cheeks. Carefully, you guide the large cock to the valley of your breasts.

Another enthusiastic twitch. It's like he falls inlove with your idea right off the bat.

You're happy to see that this works with him to say the least, trying to move your body up and down as you press your breasts together using both hands. The slickness you coated him with provides a nice slide, but for a good measure, you drool down some more of it, watching the erotic display of his cockhead peeking through the gap of your tits on every slide.

Oh, this one is more than enthusiastic. You can tell he won't last much, but you're ready to blame that on the method you use on him more than anything. Is he a boobs man? Would he be just as enthusiastic if you were to let him fuck the crux of your thighs?

"Ahhh! Nghh…"

You freeze for a split second as you swear you hear an audible moan from the other side. Everyone so far has shown so much self-control and was careful as to not let out a sound too loud, and yet this one seems to be unable to hold back.

Needless to say, it motivates you.

You don’t even have to keep going for much longer until the cock between your squeezed breasts erupts and paints your chest white. You lean your head down just a little bit more and you're able to give his angry-red tip a playful lick for goodbye. There's no urgency to satisfying your own need, as you're better off taking care of it in the plush covers of your bed back in your room, for a change. Somehow you're sure that your playmate for the night would have wanted that for you too if he could speak.

With a little over a week's worth of sinful adventures behind your back, you feel the need to take a moment and question how you got here. As scandalous as it is to think that there have been eight different members of Crown visiting that shady place for the same dirty purpose, you strangely find peace in the fact that there's at least one of them you're yet to have come in contact to, in this way.

In this very moment, you're still able to face each one of them individually and not die out of shame, because he could be the one.

So you have to leave it at all. For the sake of your sanity, you have to refrain from going anywhere close to that restroom again.

The cackle of the typewriter dies down as you're ready with the evening's workload of documenting Crown's missions, and now the call of your bed is all too strong to resist. You throw yourself face-first into the soft duvet and realize how cool and nice it feels against your skin. Have you overworked yourself, or is this heat trying to tell you something else? A familiar urge builds up in your lower belly, and you open your eyes just to see the wall clock's hands marking exactly eleven o'clock.

With the material you've gathered from those past days, it should be easy enough for you to find relief on your own. So once your hands slip inside your panties, each finding a point of interest, already soaked in liquid desire, your mind drifts off to a familiar place.

But nothing seems to work. As exciting as everything that has happened to you has been, it's nothing compared to the real thing. Since when you've become like this? A thrill-chaser, being only after what feels good without a care in the world. Much like a certain someone that got you in this mess, to begin with. And now there's a dangerous thought creeping into your head.

It's more of a gamble, to be fair.

Nine nights. The chance of all nine men visiting the hole one after another without a single one of them repeating or skipping is significantly small. Small enough to bet your dignity on it, it seems. Fingers still glistening with juices, you make a bold decision, telling yourself that if anything, you can try and resist touching the final ninth man, should he turn out to be tonight's visitor.

The hole in the wall is not occupied, and you admit to yourself that you feel disappointed. You're close to turning on your toes and going back to where you came from, but then you hear footsteps approaching, on the other side. Sleek dress shoes, if you're correct. He's taking his time.

Where you expect to find someone's aching hardness, you find an entirely different body part. You stare down in confusion as you see a gloved hand thrust out through the hole.

"I know you're in there. Why so hesitant?"

This is…Alfons' voice.

But why? It's taboo to break anonymity like this, and he's wrong if he thinks that you'd—

"You can remain silent if you wish, of course, given that you can hear me at all. Though I have this feeling that this might be no other than Miss Robin herself."

Your head gets dizzy. How does he...? No, you shouldn’t fall for it.

After a moment spent in silence, he chuckles.

"Of course you won't answer me. If you're wondering why I'm revealing myself, I'd simply tell you that not all of us are ashamed to admit they have needs, little Robin. Why, I'm sure the person supposed to be on your side of the wall must have far greater needs, no? That's why I decided to be generous tonight and offer nothing but pleasure to that lucky individual. Go ahead, I'm lending you a hand."

Clad in a shiny black glove, Alfons' hand makes a sultry come-hither motion at you, and you swear it looks lewder somehow than if he'd left you with something other than his hand instead. Your folds are still dripping, the heat in your lower belly prompting irritating tingles all over. It would be oh-so-easy to lift your skirts and descent right on his ready palm, your pussy already bare as you left your underwear all the way back in your room.

Hesitantly, you approach the wall and do just that, shivering a little at the unfamiliar texture. But unlike the solid slabs of flesh you've taken the previous nights, Alfons' fingers don’t behave. They don't wait to be ridden to completion while you get used to their shape in your insides. Right from the beginning, Alfons zaps and twists his fingers inside you, discrediting the generosity he so fondly talked about just a minute ago. It's exactly what you tried to achieve alone in your bed. But deeper. And so much more relentless. And exactly what you've been missing.

"That's a good girl. You're taking them in so greedily."

The naughty sounds of your juices muffle most of your whimpers as the flat of his palm repeatedly hits against your swollen lips. Even through the glove, he's scarily precise. He aims for your sweet spots and makes you see stars in no time, until you can no longer find meaning in the dirty things he says.

"Aww, are you squirting on me already? Here I was ready to bet you'd need far more than that. Have those gentlemen been neglecting you? Did you find them rather lacking?"

You hear the sound of water hitting the tiles but you pay little mind to it as Alfons keeps grinding his middle and ring fingers against your sweet spot, scratching something inside you that's been tormenting you for a week straight. You have no name for this feeling. You just know that he ruined you from the very beginning, by telling you about this place, by luring you in here.

The only thing you can think about as you succumb to a violent storm of an orgasm is how much better his cock would feel hitting that same place inside you. How long does he intend on keeping you here, if this is how you start out? The whole night? Would he want to make you do something perverse, fitting of his ways? You care little about that as pleasure spreads all over, making you feel so light.

You immediately get down on your hands and knees, a wicked idea on your mind already, as you're ready to deviously entice him by licking his digits clean. But they disappear before you get the chance to, making you almost whine at the loss. Your pussy still throbs, so well taken care of, yet so neglected at the same time.

"Now, wouldn't you like to finally see for yourself? If I'm one of them, I mean. The ones you've already seen here before."

Blinking your eyes, you feel the weight of his words coming down on you. You've completely forgotten about that at this point.

Even without being able to see him, just being able to pin a name to the person behind the wall makes you imagine everything so clearly. The facial expressions you've seen him do, how he reacts to certain things. The piercing stare of those dead fish eyes when he knows he's right.

"Too bad I'm not in the mood for that tonight. I guess that leaves you no choice but to come here again if you truly want to find out the answer to that question, no?"

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morbidology · 6 months ago

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The last known photograph of Robin Williams, taken just the day before he died.

He passed away on the 11th of August, 2014, at the age of 63. He was found dead in his home in Paradise Cay, California. The cause of death was determined to be suicide by hanging.

In the months leading up to his death, Williams had been struggling with severe depression and anxiety. After his death, it was revealed that he had been diagnosed with early stages of Parkinson's disease, which he had not yet disclosed to the public.

Later, an autopsy report indicated that Williams had Lewy body dementia, a neurodegenerative disorder that can cause severe cognitive and behavioral changes, along with physical symptoms similar to Parkinson's disease.

Lewy body dementia is often misdiagnosed, and it is believed that the combination of his mental health struggles and the debilitating effects of this disorder contributed to his tragic decision to end his life.

Robin Williams left behind a legacy of remarkable performances in film, television and stand up comedy. Generations of children grew up with him on the television, and he touched the world with his humor, warmth and talent.

His death was a profound loss to the entertainment industry and to the many people who admired and loved him.

#Robin Williams #Suicide #Mental Health

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ihni · 10 months ago

Text

The sound of the doorbell is what wakes him. The morning sun is shining in through the window, hitting the messy curls on the pillow next to him and making them shine like gold. The sight makes him smile, and his first instinct is to reach over and brush the curls away from his boyfriend’s face. There’s nothing better than getting to watch him wake up, after all; watch those blue eyes flutter open and squint against the light.

The doorbell rings again before he can act on his urge, though. It is followed by loud knocking, which rouses the body next to Steve; unfortunately in a less peaceful way than Steve had imagined. Billy’s eyes shoot open and he tenses as he immediately takes in where he is, and with who. Wide, blue eyes meet Steve’s.

“Shit!” he says and is halfway out of bed before Steve can even react, pulling a shirt – Steve’s, not that it matters – over his head. “It’s Neil!”

Steve has just opened his mouth to protest, say that it’s not – it can’t be, Neil doesn’t know about them – when there’s a knock again, and an angry man’s voice drifts up from outside.

And it is indeed Neil’s voice.

Shit.

Steve jumps out of bed too and nabs for the other shirt that’s been discarded on the floor – but no, no, he can’t show up at the door wearing Billy’s shirt, he can’t, so he drops it again before hurrying to his closet. He pulls on an old T-shirt, and then whirls around and grabs Billy’s face between his hands. Billy’s face, which has gone ashen with fear.

“Stay here,” Steve says. “I’ll get rid of him. It’ll be okay.”

He turns and walks out of the room, squaring his shoulders as he goes. In his periphery, he sees Heather’s head peek out of the guest room that she and Robin stumbled into late last night while blushing and giggling, but he ignores her as he makes his way to the stairs.

The knocking and shouting continues, sending equal measures of anger and fear down Steve’s spine. How did the man know to come here? Billy said he’d told him that he was going to a party last night; said that he wasn’t even given a curfew. The man would have had no reason to suspect that the party was in fact a very private affair at Steve’s place, with just him and Billy and Robin and Heather – a safe place, as all of them knew about each other’s preferences by now – and definitely would have had no reason to show up on Steve’s doorstep this early in the morning. As far as Steve knows, Billy’s dad doesn’t even know Steve by name, and shouldn’t know where he lives.

He’s halfway down the stairs when a hand grasps his arm.

“Don’t,” Billy says, voice shaking. Steve turns – he’s standing a step below Billy, so he has to look up to face him – and sees that Billy’s shaking his head. “Don’t open the door.”

He’s scared, Steve realizes. Really scared.

From outside the door, they can now make out Neil’s angry words between the bouts of knocking. “I know he’s in there! Open the door. William!”

Billy is just standing there, still holding on to Steve’s arm. His eyes are big and pleading. He’s obviously terrified, and it feels so wrong. No one who has fought monsters with the same fervor as Billy should ever have to be scared of a mere human.

A calm settles over Steve, followed by resolve. He gently extricates himself from Billy’s grip – ignoring the way Billy trembles – and says, “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you again.”

He continues down the stairs, but Billy shoulders past him and blocks his way. Puts both hands on Steve’s chest and pushes. “I don’t care if he hurts me,” he hisses. “But he’s dangerous.” The man yells some threats from the other side of the door and knocks again. Rattles the door handle for emphasis, this time. Billy flinches and looks over his shoulder before continuing, “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Steve says. He doesn’t know that for sure, but he can’t imagine it. This is his house, or, well, his parents’. Neil is the one who’s trespassing. And Steve knows the Chief of Police.

He walks past his boyfriend and crosses the hall. A hand lands on his shoulder again. Not forcing him to stop or trying to hold him back; just there. Imploring.

“Please,” Billy begs, and it pierces Steve’s heart like a knife because Billy doesn’t beg.

Billy, acting like this, is not right. The man on the other side of the door has brought Billy too much pain already. This has to end. And that end starts now. By getting rid of the immediate threat.

They’ll figure out the rest later.

Steve walks on. Stops in front of the door and only then realizes that Billy’s standing there with him, still with a hand on his shoulder. He’s watching Steve with big, wet eyes and shaking his head silently. Don’t do this, he doesn’t say out loud. Please, just ignore him.

But Steve can’t. Not this time. Not when the man is ranting on his doorstep on a Saturday morning, threatening to break in. Not when Billy’s standing here next to Steve, shaking with terror.

Billy is not getting hurt by that man in Steve’s house. If Neil tries to set one foot inside, Steve will kill him.

Steve reaches for the door, and with his other hand, he pushes Billy up against the wall just inside the door. Close enough to touch, but out of sight of his irate father. He can feel Billy’s heart beat frantically under his hand, and silently vows that this is the last time. This is the last time Billy is afraid.

He breathes in deeply and takes a second to slip into spoiled rich-boy mode. Then he opens the door.

“What?” he drawls, unimpressed. He gives the man outside a contemptuous look. The man draws himself up to say something, but Steve doesn’t let him speak. “Do you know what time it is? It’s Saturday, man. Some people are trying to sleep.”

Neil Hargrove is proper; not a hair out of place. It’s the first thing Steve thinks as he sees him up close – he has seen the man from a distance at times and listened in on the occasional phone call between him and Billy, but Billy has never let Steve even get close to the house on Cherry Lane when he knows that his dad is home.

The man is of average build and doesn’t look particularly dangerous from an outsider’s point of view, but there’s something cold in his eyes that sends shivers of fear down Steve’s spine when he’s pinned under Neil’s gaze. He doesn’t let his discomfort show, though; just lets the man take in Steve’s appearance fully – his messy hair, the way he’s just wearing a shirt and underwear, and how he’s obviously just got out of bed – and waits for him to speak.

“I know he’s here,” Neil growls – actually growls, like an animal. Steve sees movement out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t dare glance to where Billy’s huddling up against the wall. Instead he leans against the side of the door, placing himself more firmly between Billy and his dad.

He has seen the bruises on Billy’s skin and he has hated that he has to let Billy go back to that house time and again, but this is the first time he truly sees what Billy faces at home. He thinks, idly, that he won’t be able to let Billy go back there again.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and tries to make it sound as if he thinks the man isn’t all there in the head. By the way Neil’s face turns darker, he succeeds.

“My son, William. I know he’s here.”

“William,” Steve deadpans, as if it’s a word he has never uttered before. He raises one eyebrow. “Look, there’s no William here, man. You’ve got the wrong address. Go yell at someone else’s door. Or don’t, I don’t care. Just go away.”

He starts to close the door, but Neil’s hand shoots out and stops him. He doesn’t move to go inside, but he’s holding the door without letting it close, and staring at Steve with narrowed eyes. A challenge. A threat.

“I’m not leaving without my son.”

So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?

Steve draws himself up and narrows his own eyes as he stares back. He manages to dial back on the disgust, but some of it must shine through because he can feel himself sneering. “Who are you again?” he asks. Flippantly.

“My name is Neil Hargrove,” Neil says, pronouncing every syllable with obvious annoyance. Good. “And my son, William –“

“You mean Billy?” Steve says, letting surprise color his voice. “You’re Billy’s dad?” He doesn’t let the man answer, instead he lets out an incredulous laugh. “You think Billy is here?”

“His car is parked down the road,” Neil seethes, and oh. “You’re on the basketball team with him. And I know what he’s like. He’s a dirty little faggot who –“

Steve lets his face shut down. Slips on the mask that he has seen on his parent’s faces on many occasions during boring parties and work functions. The ‘do you know who I am’ persona. His voice is ice cold when he speaks.

“I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Mr. Hargrove, but if I were you, I’d stop talking.” Something like uncertainty flickers in Neil’s eyes. Steve drinks it in. “I don’t know if you know my parents –“ He nods to the brass plaque next to the door with ‘Harrington’ etched into it “– but I’m sure they won’t be too impressed when they hear that some lunatic showed up at their door on a Saturday morning, accusing their only son of being …” He holds Neil’s eye. Can’t – won’t – say the word the man used, not with Billy behind the door. “… a deviant.”

Disgust is dripping from his voice – disgust over this sorry excuse for a human, disgust over the fact that he has to deal with this at all – but that lends him credibility in this particular instance. He sounds just like an offended rich boy. An offended rich boy with influence.

As if on cue – which it most likely is, since Steve suspects that the girls have been listening in for some time now – there are soft steps behind him on the stairs, and Robin’s voice drifts out from behind him, “Steve? What’s going on?”

He lets the door open just a little bit wider under the guise of turning around, allowing Neil Hargrove to see Robin. Robin, whose hair is also sleep-mussed, and who is wearing an oversized button-up shirt. It’s not Steve’s – she must have taken it from his dad’s closet – but Neil doesn’t know that. She paints a perfect picture of a confused girlfriend who just woke up to the sounds of yelling, and Steve is so grateful that he’s friends with her.

“Nothing, baby,” he says, softening his voice. “Go back to bed.”

Robin hesitates with one more look at Neil. Licks her lips, as if she’s worried. “Should I … call someone? The police, or …?”

Perfect. Thank you for the assist, Robin.

“No, there’s no need to bother Jim this early in the morning,” Steve says, making sure to use Hopper’s first name, and turns back to face Neil. Neil, whose face has paled. Who has possibly started to realize that he may have messed up. Steve gives him a stiff smile and lets his voice go cold again as he continues, “Mr. Hargrove here was just leaving. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hargrove?”

Too proud or too angry to say it out loud, the man just gives a jerky nod and steps back. Steve will take it, as long as he leaves.

Starting to close the door again, Steve sneaks one glance at Billy’s pale face an arms-length away, and adds, in a sudden bout of inspiration.

“Oh, and if you’re looking for Billy in Loch Nora –“ He gives Neil, who’s half-turned to leave, a slow once-over, showing just enough disdain to make it clear that someone like Neil Hargrove doesn’t belong in this part of town, “– then I suggest you try the Holloways next. I think I saw him with their daughter Heather at the party last night.” He gives a sardonic little smile at the way Neil Hargrove’s face shutters. Everyone’s heard of the Holloways, just as everyone’s heard of the Harringtons. “I’m sure Tom and Janet will appreciate being disturbed on a Saturday morning just as much as I have. Who knows, it might get you a mention in the Post.”

With that, he shuts the door in Neil Hargrove’s face and locks it, and turns to his wide-eyed boyfriend. Who hasn’t moved from his space behind the door.

He ignores both Robin running out into the kitchen on silent feet – probably to make sure that Neil Hargrove actually leaves – and Heather coming downstairs, in favor of putting his hands on the sides of Billy’s face and lean in so their foreheads are touching. Billy is shivering and his breaths are uneven, but he reaches up and grabs at Steve’s wrist and the back of his head with something akin to desperation.

“I can’t believe you,” he whispers. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you,” Steve says, and is rewarded with a shaky little laugh.

“Shit,” Billy breathes. “I was so scared, Steve. I thought he was gonna –”

“But he didn’t.”

They stand there for a little while, just looking at each other. Holding each other and breathing each other’s air. Gradually, Billy’s tremors subside. His heart rate slows.

Eventually, Robin comes back into the hall and announces, “He’s gone. Got in his car and left.” She adds, pointedly, “Didn’t look like he was heading for the Holloways’, either.”

Steve looks at her and then drifts his eyes over to Heather, who’s sitting on the second to last step on the stairs, looking at them with one eyebrow raised. He winces. “Yeah … uh, sorry about that, I guess. I should have asked first.”

“You should,” Heather agrees. “But you didn’t, which means that you owe me one.” She looks between Steve and Billy and says, “I would have agreed if you’d asked, but you know. You still owe me.”

Steve laughs. Heather turns to Billy and points one well-manicured finger at him. “So I guess we’re dating now, you and I. I hope you know that I expect to be wooed.”

After Billy gives her a little salute, she nods and turns to Robin. Smiles lewdly as she takes in her appearance in the oversized shirt. “You look good in that,” she says, biting her lip. “Let’s see what other fun clothes we can find in that closet.”

The girls disappear up the stairs, giggling. Steve has a suspicion that his parents’ closet are going to be in complete disarray soon, but can’t bring himself to care. It’s a small price to pay.

“Do you want to go back to bed, too?” Steve asks, and belatedly realizes what it sounds like. “To sleep some more, I mean!” he adds. Because a Neil Hargrove scare first thing in the morning is probably not exactly a turn-on. “Or do you want breakfast? I can make breakfast. We have –“

“I want to go back to bed,” Billy says, thankfully cutting off the rambling.

“Okay,” Steve says and reaches out for his hand. When Billy’s hand slots into his, is it perfectly steady. No more tremors. “Okay, let’s do that.”

But Billy shakes his head. “I don’t wanna sleep, though.”

“… no?”

Billy’s looking at him through his lashes – his ridiculously long lashes, which he knows is Steve’s Kryptonite – and gives a small smile.

“Not gonna lie, babe. That was a terrifying experience. But …” He takes a step closer, brushes the lightest of kisses against Steve’s lip before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “… the way you shut him down like that, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Then he abruptly turns and sashays away, but not before giving Steve’s butt a quick squeeze as he passes.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs with one hand on the bannister, and looks over his shoulder all seductively. “You coming?”

Oh, Steve is coming, all right.

He chases Billy up the stairs. (And this time, when he catches him, he’ll hold onto him and never let him go back to that house again.)

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #buckleway #heather holloway #robin buckley #stranger things #harringrove fic #ihni writes #got this scenario stuck in my head and had to write it down #wrote it over the course of a few hours #:)

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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months ago

Text

naked under there

for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop up event 'graduation'

rated m | 940 words | cw: mention of illness (flu symptoms), mentions of sexual content | tags: established relationship, modern au, college graduation, sick fic, the laziest possible almost handjob you may ever see (that's why it's not even rated e)

🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓

Steve worked his ass off to get here, and now his ass was fucking cold.

This was definitely his own fault, but he hadn't considered the fact that the graduation ceremony was inside. With air conditioning. And fans blowing on the stage to help circulate more air.

Steve was naked under his graduation gown.

He was standing in an arena filled with nearly 1500 students and probably 5000 family members and friends, and he was naked.

Admittedly, not his brightest moment.

And what was worse, what was actually going to kill him, was Eddie called him an hour before the ceremony crying because he had a fever and migraine and body aches and Wayne wouldn't let him get out of bed. So he'd done all this for nothing.

He only had a few people ahead of him now, and his body was shivering. He looked out to find Robin, but she was lost in the sea of people already called to get their diploma sitting back in their seats. Steve was the biggest idiot here. They shouldn't even give him his diploma.

"Steven William Harrington."

He quickly made his way across the stage, smiling as he heard cheering in the upper level of the arena. All his kids had made it, though a couple of them didn't fly in until earlier that day and had to rush, so he didn't get to see them before he had to line up and get to his seat. Wayne promised to be there too, more of a parent figure for him in the last four years than his own parents had ever been. Even Nancy had made it, explaining that there was no way she was missing this when she'd helped so much with editing his papers.

As he walked off the stage, diploma in hand, he paused to smile for the camera that was taking pictures. He didn't think he needed them, but Wayne insisted on buying one to celebrate his achievement. He wanted to frame it and place it next to the picture he has of Eddie on his high school graduation day.

He forgot for a moment that the flash would make the pale yellow gown a bit more see-through. He forgot that the camera recording the entire session would probably capture this moment, too.

Instead of panicking, he walked back to his seat quickly, head down and hands holding his diploma in front of his entire crotch area. He was such an idiot, holy shit.

If he wanted to blame Eddie, he probably could, but really, this was all Steve.

Eddie had made a comment last week while he was fucking Steve against the wall that he couldn't wait to fuck him in his cap and gown. Steve couldn't stop thinking about being pulled into a closet after the ceremony, while everyone waited for them, Eddie lifting up the back of the gown and fucking into him.

Hence, being naked under the gown. Easy access was crucial when time was of the essence.

Except now, Eddie was dying of the flu in bed, and Steve was naked for no damn reason under this gown.

The shivering started again as soon as he sat in his seat. Why the hell was it so cold in here?

By the time they got to the last names beginning with Y, Steve felt miserable. He was freezing, but sweating down his back and neck, and the gown kept sticking to his thighs. His whole body felt sore and the pain behind his eyes was making its way to the back of his head and down his neck.

Would he get in trouble if he left early?

He had his diploma, and they were mostly done. He could go.

He left.

A few people around him told him to sit, but must not have felt the need to argue when they saw how miserable he looked.

His phone was buzzing in the pocket of the gown, but he couldn't bother to check it right now. He needed some fresh air and some water.

The fresh air helped slightly, but the sun hitting his eyes made him want to lay down and die. The headache increased exponentially as he tried to find a shady spot with no luck.

He could just walk back to the apartment. It was only three blocks.

Eddie was there.

His vision was slightly blurry as he made his way home, but he didn't need to see details to know how to get there. He walked this area every day for the last four years and now he was done.

He was done. Holy shit.

He barely made it in the door before he unzipped the gown and let it fall to the floor.

"Stevie?" Eddie's rough voice called from their bedroom.

He was so dizzy.

"Hey, Eds," Steve said as he climbed into bed, naked, sweaty, shivering, sick with the same illness Eddie was bedridden with.

"Sick?" Eddie whispered, eyes barely open as Steve turned on his side facing him in the bed.

"Think so."

"You're naked," Eddie said, eyes closing as he wrapped a hand around Steve's soft cock.

Steve let out a small moan, but didn't have the energy to do anything else. Neither did Eddie, it seemed, as he let out a small snore only a few seconds later.

Steve smiled to himself as he placed a hand on Eddie's chest and closed his eyes.

Eddie could fuck him in his cap and gown in a few days, like they planned, but this time, he wouldn't have to risk being caught in front of thousands of people.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #pop up event #graduation #established relationship #modern au

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damelancelot-darling · 11 days ago

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Gotham Inception Fic

Aka: a Gothamite writes fanfiction about the Batfam and the Wayne family like step-families.

All inspired by @jasontoddiefor's post here:

Obviously fans are going to wildly mischaracterize everyone, especially the BatFam so I'm seperating each person's character traits into their civilain ID and their persona. Some of these are grossly incorrect in any kind of canon or fanon but this is from the perspective of a Gothamite.

Dick (Richy):

Everyone gave up on using Dick as his name because it kept getting flagged everytime so they decided on Richy. He confirmed in an interview that he prefers Dick because English wasn't his parent's first language and when they gave him a white name, they didn't know what dick meant until they had already been using it too long.

Way stereotyped. Both as Romani and as a former circus performer.

Goofy, smiley, more of a puppy than anything.

Doting on his family.

Nightwing ():

Human thristtrap.

Oversexualized and flirty af.

Gets very angry easily (stemming from his early Robin days)

Overprotective (of family, of his partner, of Y/N, etc.)

Cool in a way that teenagers think is cool.

Richi taught him acrobatics.

Jason:

Dead lol

Still legally dead and out of the view of the public.

Everyone writes angst about his death.

Made out to be this sweet little uwu baby.

They do guess correctly that if he was brought back, he'd be pissed he was "replaced".

Red Hood (Liam):

Woobified

His "real" name came from him quoting Shakespeare in public and so got called William which turned into Liam because Will was not a cool enough name for him.

Daddy issues af

A lot less violent that in reality.

Brucie has guilty resentment about him coming back but not Jason.

Only shows up to work with Batman on cases that involve his terf.

Hates Brucie with a burning passion and doesn't explain why.

Tim:

More uptight. Kinda like Damian's fanon calling everyone "peasants" thing but less outspoken.

Secretly thinks he should be the only son of Wayne but when Wayne Enterprises was given to him, it quelled most of the jealously.

Kind of the "bad guy" and/or the pessimist in most fanfics.

Basically a semi-spoiled rich kid who inherited his daddy's company.

It's debated whether he's actually a compitant boss or if he's more like Brucie was and everyone else does his work for him.

A small group of fans insist that he's stereotped into being the bad guy and he isn't actually that bad in real life. (Most of these are the Batfam trying to raise Tim's spirits.)

Red Robin (Rhett Robbie):

Yes his name is a reference to his vigilantie name.

Nerd

I can't really think of more for him rn

Damian:

More shy than snobby.

Overwhelmed with suddenly having a large family.

Covers up his negative feelings with either anger or coldness.

Doesn't speak much.

More affectionate than irl.

Snow White (ie: someone found out about the zoo he keeps at the manor and everyone thinks it's cute.

Robin (Taj):

I will murder you with a smile.

Has to be kept on a BatLeash (patent pending) at all times so he doesn't kill all of the criminals.

Complete Middle Eastern/ninja stereotype

They do get his desire to be the only BatKid because he's "actually" Batman's son.

According to the internet (which is exactly where a fan writer would go for name inspiration) Malik means crown in Arabic.

Bruce (Brucie):

Still very much a himbo.

Mischaracterized as "the wife" when shipped with Batman

Some people insist that Damian got his animal adoption problem from Brucie's child adoption problem.

All of his one night stands after parties are fake b/c he'd never cheat on Batman.

A little too dependant on hard liqour when left alone because Jason is dead/he's worried about Batman dying on patrol/etc.

Secretly depressed.

Would 100% kill a villain if they were after his kids (batkids included) and he had an opportunity.

Was taught in-depth selfdefense before Batman even considered a first date.

Batman (???):

I can't think of a good name for Batman. If you can think of something better, please add it.

His Batman persona sticks around even when the cowl is off.

Usually a redhead with green eyes because they suspect he's BatGirl's bio dad.

"Do the butts match?"

Loves his kids and Brucie's kids but is emotionally consipated and doesn't show it well.

Has a tragic backstory.

Childhood friends with Brucie.

He doesn't use guns because they're a huge trigger for Brucie.

I am absolutely not the authority of this kind of AU. If anyone has Corrections or additions they want to add please do. If there's enough additions and Corrections on this post, I will eventually I will make another post with everything added and corrected.

Yes I know I need to add Duke, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Alfred, maybe Clark Kent, etc. I will make a sequel post with them in it or I will just include them when I make the masterpost.

#batman #batfam #batfamily #jason todd #richard grayson #brucie wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #batwayne #what is brucie and batman's ship name?#gotham #nightwing #red hood #dc robin #red robin

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missaengg · 5 days ago

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Ice Skating with Crown

8 Days Until Christmas: Ice Skating Made for Ikemen Advent hosted by @queengiuliettafirstlady and @candied-boys A/N: Much thanks to @wistfulwanderingone for helping me brainstorm and for her contribution to Elbert's section!! Thank you for keeping me sane haha ❤️ Featuring: All of Ikevil and Robin Tags: humor Word Count: 1273

William Rex

Graceful.

So fucking graceful. Seriously, how is it possible for one man to look like a swan on a serene lake? To look so majestic no matter what he does? Pretty sure he either had lessons growing up or had a lot of practice because this was a regular activity for him because the man skates like he’s had figure skating lessons. He skates backwards. He skates forwards. He does spins. He does jumps. He makes it look easy. And he doesn’t even break a sweat! His clothes don’t bunch or wrinkle. His hair doesn’t have a lock out of place.

It should be a crime to look as good as William does when he skates. Seriously, it’s not fair.

Harrison Gray

Bored out of his mind.

It’s clear he doesn’t want to be here in the cold with skates on his feet going in circles inside what can essentially be considered a fish bowl. He skates languidly along the perimeter, breathing out the occasional resigned sigh. His skating is just as boring as he feels. The unchanging steady pace. The repeating of the same actions. Push off with one foot, glide until he loses momentum, repeat. Push off. Glide. Push off. Glide. Just circle after circle around the rink.

The whole thing is too troublesome for him, and to make matters worse, the snack bar doesn’t have any strawberry milk.

Liam Evans

Daredevil. Speedster. Snack bar fiend.

He’s a magenta-colored blur zipping around the rink, hurtling forward as fast as he can. The wind blows back his hair. A fanatical gleam in his rose-colored eyes. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he attempts to mimic the moves William pulls off in the center, but of course, fails miserably because he’s not a trained skater. He also doesn’t really know how to stop, meaning he’s barreling into the other skaters and knocking both of them to the hard ice. He has to be patched up by Roger a few times for various cuts and bruises.

When he’s not whipping around the rink, he’s at the snack bar buying way too much candy and getting a sugar rush, which he has to burn off with another round of haphazard skating.

Elbert Greetia

Only there because of Alfons.

Elbert spends most of his time staring at William and asking, “Alfons, is Will beautiful when he skates?”

Doesn’t skate on his own. Elbert has to be pulled around the rink by Alfons like a child, yet somehow still manages to look hauntingly beautiful. He’s obsessed with the figure skating costumes on some of the figure skaters practicing in the center, captivated by the sparkle of the rhinestones. Has to be saved from looking like a creep by Alfons because he tries to approach the young women and offer them a ridiculous amount of money to buy their outfits.

Notices you struggling to even stand in your skates, and for some unknown reason asks, “Al… Is Robin beautiful?”

To which Alfons laughs hysterically and replies, “She looks like a governess who mistook the ice for a polished parquet floor and a waltz partner. So no, unless you think that’s beautiful.”

Alfons Sylvatica

Elbert’s keeper. Incorrigible flirt.

Is very tempted to answer yes when Elbert asks if William is beautiful because that would be an entertaining exchange to watch. He doesn’t though. Not because they’re in public, that would just add to the entertainment factor. It’s because even though he tries to hide it, he actually cares for the taciturn blonde.

When not looking after Elbert, Alfons brazenly sidles up to you, whispering suggestive comments about what he’d like to do to your — *ahem* — kitty and finding great amusement in watching you nearly face plant as your face turns red in indignation.

Roger Barel

Crown’s Liam’s doctor and overall trickster.

Roger skates like a hockey player. He’s a bit of a show-off, complete with weaving in and out between the other skaters at high speeds and spraying ice when he skids to a stop. He thinks it’s great fun to scare the living shit out of you by coming up from behind and grabbing your shoulders with that shit-eating grin on his face, laughing boisterously when you almost fall on your ass, much to your chagrin. Your heart may have stopped a few times because of his antics.

When he’s not on the rink scaring the living daylight out of you, he’s on the sidelines patching up curious kitty Liam and only Liam because he’s the only one who has managed to hurt himself whilst skating.

Ellis Twilight

Residential good boy.

Sweet, baby boy Ellis is the one helping other skaters they fall, offering them a hand to pull them back up. He’s helped so many people that he’s mistaken as one of the employees with skaters coming up to him if they need any help.

Surprisingly graceful when he skates — though not as graceful as William — covering a lot of ground despite not skating very fast because of his long legs. He’s the only member of Crown who tries to teach you how to skate, doing the thing where he holds your hands and leads you around the rink while he skates backwards. He also tries to fend off the more mischievous members of Crown, but isn’t able to stay by your side the whole time.

Jude Jazza

Nowhere to be found.

Jude only came because Victor strong-armed him into attending. He disappears as soon as the group arrives at the ice skating rink, and can be found outside chain smoking cigarettes, grumbling about how the entire outing is stupid and a waste of time.

When he sees Liam hurt himself, he gets a sadistic, wicked gleam in his amethyst-colored eyes. He seeks out the owner of the establishment and threatens them with a lawsuit unless they comp the entry tickets and the skate rentals. The owner complies immediately because Jude is so god damn terrifying, especially when his eyes narrow into slits, glaring at you as if his eyes alone can cut you into a million tiny pieces.

Also uses this to negotiate free snacks for the group.

Victor

The Mom.

The first thing Victor does is to buy a round of hot chocolate for everyone saying something about how they need to stay warm so they don’t catch a cold, but is devastated when Harrison, Roger, and Jude choose not to partake. He encourages his lovely Crown members to be free in their skating and follow the wicked desires in their hearts, even if it leads to havoc… aka Liam.

He doesn’t skate, but watches over them from the sidelines, happy and gleeful that his ��children” seem to be enjoying themselves — for the most part, which for Crown means that it’s a relatively successful outing.

Already planning the next one. Sledding? Skiing? Something snow related. After all, it’s almost Christmas!

Robin

Skating? What’s that?

You wobble on your skates like a newborn calf, clutching the railing for dear life and creeping along inch by inch trying not to fall on your ass. Until Alfons, Roger, or Liam knock you over, and you’re sliding on your tailbone wondering what the hell just happened while they laugh like the assholes they are. Except Liam. Liam’s about to cry while he apologizes profusely over and over again even after you reassure him you’re okay.

Massaging your bruised butt and stiff muscles, you wonder why the hell you thought this would be a great idea when Victor first mentioned it because let’s face it… you’ve never skated before in your life!

Thank god for Ellis.

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ladykailitha · 3 months ago

Text

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 5

Hello! I'm really love the response to this story. Thank you everyone who commented or tagged.

In this part we get to meet Ellie their costume designer, and Steve proves why he's there.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

Steve was doing his warm ups when Chrissy came up to him.

“Hey,” she said. “We finally got our costume designer in at the same time as you. So you need to go to the dressing room and get measured.”

He nodded and went back to the dressing room. It was a long room packed with vanities, costumes, and props. It was where everyone got dressed. Man and woman alike. Eddie’s club was making good money, but it was just easier to just have everyone in the same room. Plus, it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t seen everyone else’s bits. After all, nakedness was part of the job.

The only one who had his own dressing room was Eddie. And that was because it doubled as his office. It had all his costumes, his guitars, but also his desk and filing cabinets. It had a long green, leather sofa two big fluffy armchairs across from his desk chair.

Standing at the end of the of the room in front of the rows and rows of clothing racks where all the costumes were kept was a woman in her early twenties with curly, brown hair and slim figure. Her back was to him so he couldn’t see her face. But he liked her style. It was funky and eclectic and Steve instantly loved it.

“Hey,” he called out gently. “I’m here to measured and hopefully not be found wanting.”

She turned around with a giggle. “And would you be William or Count Adhemar in this situation?”

Steve laughed. “My hope is to always be the hero, especially in my own story. And do I call you Kate or something else?”

“Ellie will do just fine,” she said with a smile. “So you’re the new Envy. You aren’t what I was expecting, if I’m honest.”

“No?” he said as he finished walking the rest of the way to her. “I’m not sure what you were told about me, so...”

Again Ellie giggled. “Well judging from the way Eddie and Chrissy talk about you I was expecting someone taller at the very least. You are conventionally attractive, but I guess I was thinking more Chris Hemsworth then Chris Pine, if I’m honest.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” he said. “Personally I prefer Pine over all the other Chrises. He’s got a ‘fuck you I do what I want’ style I like.”

“Me too,” she said with a soft knowing smile. “So let’s get those measurements and then afterwards we can talk about what you want out of your costumes. I understand you and Chrissy are going to be Hansel and Gretel for the Fairy Tale Night, is that right?”

Steve nodded. “I think that Eddie just wants to see me in lederhosen.” He paused for a second. “My best friend, Robin, too, now that I think about it.”

She laughed out loud for the first time and Steve decided she should laugh more. It was cute. “Well, aren’t they going to be disappointed. It’s meant to be sexy, not ridiculous.”

He smiled back at her. Yeah, they were going to along just fine. Ellie went through measuring him, quickly and efficiently. Steve was impressed by her professionalism and she was impressed by his ability to take direction and to hold still when told.

Once they were done Ellie sat him down and she pulled out a sketch book. She showed him the designs for the Hansel outfit. It had a lot of layers so that as they went through the forest more clothes would come off. Lamia would be the witch and Eddie’s Lucifer would rescue them. It was all very hot and Steve couldn’t wait to preform it.

“I love it,” he told Ellie. “Can we make the costumes brown on the outside and get lighter and lighter until the bottom layer is white?”

Ellie tapped her pencil to her lips. “What if we started off with black and worked our way through grey to white?”

Steve resisted the urge to sigh. It was Eddie wish to be everything black or red for their costumes and it looked the costume designer felt the same. “How about red?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. “That could work!” And she pulled out her colored pencils and got to work coloring the different layers. Once she was done, she looked up at him and he grinned back.

“Perfect,” he said. “Now let me tell you what I’m going to need from my costume and you can help me figure out what it should look like.”

She nodded and listened to his wants and needs, jotting down notes and sketching out ideas as he talked.

“I might not take it all off every time,” Steve admitted, scratching his cheek nervously. “But I want the option there if at all possible.”

Ellie did a couple more sketches and showed them to him. He took the sketch book from her as he examined the different designs. He pointed to the one on the left. “Add some of the flare from the second one and I think you’ve got it.”

She added the flourishes from the one costume to the other and then showed Steve. He nodded.

“All right,” she said standing up, “I’ll be by in a couple of weeks with your costume for a fitting and see if there’s any tweaks to finalize. I’ve also taken your current costume and will have it sent over on Sunday so that you are able to dance easier.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. I’ll be glad to be able to do my job without sacrificing a gallon of blood every night.”

Steve walked her out and said goodbye. Then he got back to warm ups and practice. He was about done with his first solo routine when one of the dancers came up to him.

“Why are you so special that Ellie came to you?” the young man bit out. “Everyone else had to go to her shop to get measured.”

Steve looked up at him with a frown. “You’re Leviathan, right?” The guy nodded. “I’m busy during the day and on my nights off. And when I was free, she was busy. She offered to come to me during practice, man, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“Why you’re getting such preferential treatment?” Levi huffed. “Boss wouldn’t let us backup dancers even try out for Envy even though we should have been given the chance first. We’ve been here longer and deserve a crack at making real money. But no... you come in here with your stupid little heaven song and your stupid little angel dances and now you’re getting Ellie to come to you? It’s bullshit!”

Steve just put his hands up in the air. “You’re acting like I’m some evil mastermind designed to fuck up your life, but the truth is it sounds life your beef is with Eddie not me. I’m not the one who set up tryouts. I’m not the one that called Ellie to come get my measurements. I’m not the one that suggested the angel theme, all I did was pick a song that would get me noticed. Eddie is the one who did all those things. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to warm up.”

Levi snarled and turned on his heel, stomping away. Or as much stomping as one could when you’d spent your life learning to land as softly as possible.

Steve rolled his shoulders. He was used to people blaming him because he was rich and popular and good looking and could fucking dance. They couldn’t get over the fact that he had these natural talents; things he was born with that he didn’t chose. But it was always his fault anyway.

Chrissy came back from wherever she had gone during his session with Ellie, with a big smile. “You ready to back into this?” she asked cheerfully.

“Ready when you are!”

To say Eddie was pissed would be an understatement. He had just gotten off the phone with some Bible thumping street preacher demanding that they shutter their doors and repent to come to God.

When Eddie told him that he didn’t believe in God and even if he had, he’d rather go to Hell, the preacher started screaming obscenities about how he was going to expose the club for what it was, a den of iniquity and was going to get it closed down.

Then Stella came in and was up his ass about the angel dances again. He told her that when she brought in as much money as Steve and Chrissy did during those dances then he would listen to her.

“Mark my words, Eddie,” Stella hissed. “He’s going to be the ruin of the club and when it all comes crashing down, I’m going to still be here so I can tell you to your face, ‘I told you so’.”

Then she stormed out. Eddie followed her because he honestly thought she would start going on a rampage in the dressing room, tearing shit up.

Which meant he got a front row seat to Levi trying bully Steve. Not that it worked, Steve returned better than he got, but it was the fact that one of his people had tried. It wasn’t the first time Eddie heard the rumblings from the backup dancers about not getting a chance to audition for Envy and it probably wouldn’t the last. But he wasn’t going to let someone bully someone he had handpicked.

He walked up to the stage whistled long and loud. Steve was the last to stop and look at him, finishing the turn he was doing. He blushed when he realized everyone was waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said. “I get wanting to complete a spin instead of abruptly stopping and risking a fall.”

Steve nodded, still feeling the heat of embarrassment on the back of his neck after the sting of Levi’s words still rang in his head.

“I’ve been getting and hearing a lot of complaints about how I run things lately,” Eddie began.

The assembled dancers began to shift uncomfortably. “Especially from the backup dancers about the auditions to replace Envy. You all think you’re better than Stevie here,” he continued. “So put your money where your mouth is. All eight of you will dance Billy’s version of the tease. And you don’t want to, you know where the fucking door is. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

There was a gasp and then deadly silence. “If any of you are as good as he is, I’ll concede the point and we’ll discuss the details after. But here’s the thing, my little demons. You aren’t as good as he is. He learned his dance in three days.”

There were some sharp grumbling at that but a single glare from Eddie silenced them again.

“Jeff, Brian, and Gareth will be the judges because clearly you don’t trust me and Chrissy’s judgment. They will score you on hitting all the moves. On style. And finally on how sexy it was. Then after you’ve all danced and I’m proven right, you’ll have two options,” he bit out, holding up two fingers. “Shut up and dance. Or get the fuck out of my club. Because I think you assholes forgot who’s name is on the deed. Not you. Not Wayne. Not anyone but me.”

The rest of the demons glared at the two main culprits: Levi and Danny. Levi sneered and Danny was nonplussed.

“Come on, Leviathan,” Eddie snarled back. “You think you’re such a big shot. Go on, prove it.”

Levi got into position to dance.

Chrissy hurried over to the music and turned on “Devil Inside”. Steve didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he could see why Billy was only as good as the pole he was dancing on. It was loud and outrageous but no technique or style. It was all sex and no substance.

When he was done Eddie called out all the other dancers. Choronzon, Belial, Beelzebub, Astraroth, Stolas, Mephistopheles, and then finally Dagon. Danny was a good dancer, particularly on the pole. But again, there was no style or substance to the tease.

When her dance ended, Steve raised his hand. “Can I try?”

All heads snapped his direction.

“What now?” Cheryl asked. “You dance it every Sunday.”

Steve shook his head. “What you guys just danced is not what I do on Sundays. Chrissy modified it on the fly because I’m not built the way Billy was.”

There was some murmuring but Chrissy confirmed he doesn’t do Billy’s dance. Parts of it, yes. But there was no way Steve could dance it well enough in time.

“But you just watched it,” Stella said. “There is no way you can do replicate that!”

Steve shrugged. “I watched it eight times. It has a lot of beats of what I do, but in a slightly different order. I should get a chance to do it. It’s my reputation on the line, isn’t it?”

No one could refute that so Steve got into position and everyone’s jaw dropped. Including Eddie and Chrissy. Steve started his dance on stool but Billy started front and center. And that’s where he stood.

Scott smirked as the music started. It was Chrissy and him who helped Steve nail it down in three days.

The difference was staggering. Eddie’s jaw remained on the floor for the duration of of the tease. As did almost everyone else’s. Only Stella and Scott were unmoved. Scott because he knew how good Steve was and Stella because she was being forced to eat crow.

The song ended and the room erupted in cheers and whistles. Steve lifted his head and winked.

Jeff threw his notes in the air behind him. “I don’t fucking need these. Steve’s was sexier, smoother, and nearly technically perfect.”

Gareth crossed his arms over his chest. “I agree. All of the backup dancers did the routine. But none of them were Envy.”

“I’m asexual and even I could tell Steve’s was sexier,” Brian said. “And it’s because he connected to his audience. Me, Gare, and Jeff. He played to us not at us.”

Eddie raised his arm to the stage. “Satan everyone!” He jutted his thumb behind him. “Take it or leave it!”

No one moved an inch. “Then shut up and dance!” He turned on his heel and stormed back to his office.

Chrissy clapped her hands. “All righty! Everyone back on the starting line!”

Everyone scrambled to get back into position. Chrissy and Scott shared a smirk as Levi and Danny stood a little straighter.

Point well and truly made.

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #dance club au

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sweetteainthesummerx · 7 months ago

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THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG

Ollie Bearman and his girlfriend turned wife, as seen from social media and the public.

series masterlist

reader has a name and a no fc, but is portrayed as East Asian :) No warnings, probably going to have multiple parts :) ALSO NO HATE TO MACE CORONEL I literally searched up young actors and he popped up AND no hate to ollie and Estelle's relationship I just wanted to write for fun. pls be kind this is baby's first Tumblr post also someone pls help me how do I make my blog aesthetic

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

E-news!

TRENDING NOW

AUBREY YANG WINS OSCAR AT AGE 17

Aubrey Yang, age 17, wins Best Supporting Actress in break out role on blockbuster movie, Station 13. This young star has been acting since the age of 7, landing roles such in which she worked with household names like Michelle Yeoh and Robin Williams. Her astounding and emotional performance as a newly orphaned teen in the apocalypse adjacent Morgan Freeman has secured her spot in this tumultuous industry. In her acceptance speech, Yang delivered an impactful critique on Asian presence in Western Media and how her win is “ not just [hers], but for all of us”.

Yang is set to star in upcoming movie, White Jade Tiger, a historical film based on the book of the same name, directed by John M. Chu next fall.

See below for Audrey Yang’s Acceptance Speech I 2024 Academy Awards.

aubreyyang posted

liked by morganfreeman, michelleyeoh_official, and 987,432 others

aubreyyang Wow. I am still in absolute shock. Thank you so much to everyone who supported me and helped make this happen. Here’s to more change and more love in the future!

view all 26,183 comments

morganfreeman well done, and well deserved Aubrey. It was an honor seeing your incredible talent and hard work.

— aubreyyang thank you so much for guiding me and imparting your wisdom!! I love you on set dad!

michelleyeoh_official They grow up so fast…proud of you, Aubrey!

— aubreyyang MICHELLE MY HERO

dior.n.goodjohn MY QUEEN YOUVE SLAYED TOO HARD IM AFRAID

— aubreyyang AHHH MY GF VAN TRIP WHEN???

user dior and aubrey are friends???

user2 yes they’re both from vancouver their friendship is so cute

macecoronel ❤️

liked by author

sabrinacarpenter girlboss

aubreyyang SABBB my lover

olliebearman posted

olliebearman Spring break, ready to get back on (the) track 😁

tagged: kimi.antonelli

comments are turned off.

liked by kimi.antonelli, arthur_leclerc, and 7,4720 others

celebgossipnews_page posted

celebgossipnews_page Aubrey Yang has won an Oscar: but is she winning in the love department? The actress was seen arguing with long-term boyfriend, Mace Coronel in front of Nobu Downtown last Friday night, at 9:00 pm. She left the restaurant in tears, without Coronel. Could this power couple break up at the height of Yang’s career?

Liked by 7344 others

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user1 dude I hate him sm like wdym u pulled Aubrey, the baddest baddie out there

— user2 fr man is washed up

aubreyyyfanpage girl stand up that man is not worth it LEAVE HIM

— yang4eva WORDD miss ma’am he does not deserve u ONE CHANCE PLS

aubberieyaang posted

aubberieyaang as liv once said, its brutal out here

liked by celine_diorr and others

view all 20 comments

celine_diorr NAH NO WAY LIL BRO CHEATED ON U LIKE WDYM

celine_diorr WHEN I CATCH U BRO WHEN I CATCH U

liv_laugh_love girl are r u ok u know its bad when ur quoting me

— aubberieyaang I can’t help it I start singing one step forward three steps back whenever I start crying

chuck_bushes do u want me and walker to go beat him up

— celine_diorr YO I want in

— aryannawhatrudoinghere me too

— walkdontrun pulling up to his house rn

— leeahh_j AUBREY I LOVE YOU DONT CRY

— aubberieyaang AW I LOVE U GUYS

dallastexas dude how r u showing up to set and pretending to be okay

dallastexas im gonna grab food and come over to urs

— aubberieyaang PLS. Also water im so dehydrated

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman x female reader #formula 1 #f1 drivers #f1 x reader #smau #f1 smau #ollie barman x female character

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yellowbunnydreams · 5 months ago

Text

Bunny Ears (Part 20) ~William Afton X F! Reader~

~Fluffy husband is always welcome! He's so dorky in this chapter it's almost cringy but we all need some golden-retriever Henry Emily in our life too. Sorry it took so long to write, I was really struggling with some writers block for a while so I apologise for any issues with the flow~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tag List: @ruh--roh-raggy @h4nluv @sleepy---head @do-double-g @confiscated-peaches-main @dij-ology @viviennemuerte @robin-the-enby @shari-berri @randymeeksisafinalgirl @hallow1090 @aponia-yue @likoplays @dilflover-3 @oak-leafs @phd-in-fuckery @weirdoartist21 @nicolezghostz @fauine @emmbny

Sorry if I missed you on the tag-list!

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 30's), divorce/processing divorce, Afton being a sarcastic hot ass, grumpy x sunshine . Faz-Fuck TM

The sweet smell of something syrupy and sugar, fruit hidden beneath it, filled your nose in the morning. Turning over in the large bed, your hand reached out for William only to find the mattress cool beneath your fingertips and making your eyes snap open as sit up. Wincing slightly as your body twinged unhappily and you blinked away the last of the sleep clinging to your eyes before your legs slipped out of the bed and padded barefoot across the cool wooden floor.

The space looked so different in the daylight, a window built into the slanted roof opposite the bed let in a lot of natural light, chiffon curtains fluttering in the slight breeze as you realised it was open. His bedding was black sheets with a blue comforter and black pillows, a stark contrast to the pale walls and matching the dark wood of the furniture around the place. It weirdly felt appropriate that William straddled the line between open and airy space with darker elements.

Your footsteps were silent as you pressed on through the house, coming to the old stairs and pulling down William's t-shirt around your body before you reached the bottom. Hearing humming coming from the kitchen, you managed to peek your head around the corner and smiled as you saw his broad back to you. Still wearing those sweatpants that he'd pulled on last night, but clearly focused on cooking as he partly turned to grab something from the counter, his sharp features looking handsome in the soft lighting as his greying stubble made his cheeks look a little more hollow. His salt and pepper hair messy like he'd just woken up, squinting as you realised that this was the first time you were properly seeing him without his glasses.

"Welll good morning handsome." You called sleepily, watching as he practically jumped out of his skin and hissed as the distinct sound of somebody slamming their foot directly into the nearest solid surface was only just covered by the sharp intake of breath. Your hands flying to cover your mouth as you gasped too even though you were completely safe. "Oh my gosh, I'm so so sorry!"

"You're alright bunny, I didn't see you there." He laughed, crouching down to inspect any damage, more to his kitchen than himself before standing up tall once again and gently padding his way around the counter, his thick arms wrapped around you and holding you closely in a warm hug.

"How's my cute little superstar doing this morning?" He asked, kissing the top of your head as your arms wrapped around him in kind.

"Superstar? And I'm good...sore but good." Feeling him squeeze you tighter as he pulled back and inspected you with a frown, squinting in what looked like a slightly accusatory fashion.

"Bunny, baby-girl, you should have lead with that!" He began to ramble slightly as he focused on you, holding onto your shoulders and stroking his thumb over the curve of the joint appreciately as he seemed to tune you out almost in his slight panic.

"Will-"

" I'm sorry you're sore if I went too hard last night say and we don't have to do that again! Gosh I'm so stupid, I should have given you aftercare and made sure..no maybe I should have prepped you more-" Your own brows raised in slight amusement as you looked up at him, head cocked to one side as his voice slipped into that deep gravel.

"William."

"I am such a fool, an old fool! Bunny please can y-"

"WILLIAM AFTON." You finally broke through to him as he seemed to jolt at the use of his full name. Tensing before your hands reached up and cupped his cheeks lightly, thumbs stroking them over his stubbled cheeks and feeling him relaxing, torn from his little concerned spiral.

"William Afton, I love you. And last night was beautiful, and I wouldn't change it for the world, you hear me?" Watching his expression soften as you spoke,

"I do bunny...sorry I just..I wanted it to be special and I wanted to make you breakfast in bed and bring it up to you because you're special to me..I love you too."

"Good, now you've stopped panicking...is it bad timing to mention whatever you're cooking is burning?" Looking over his shoulder and towards the pan that was producing a little black smoke and smelt acrid, making William snap his head around and release you as he sprinted to the stovetop, swearing profusely as you dissolved into laughter over the whole situation.

If it was any indication as to what mornings were like in the Afton household, you were certain that you could live with that for the rest of your life.

It took William about another hour to clean up breakfast, or rather the cremated remains of the original breakfast plan and then to make some pancake batter, making sure that you had heaps of syrup, butter and cream on your pancakes that he even cheesily poured into a little heart shape.

It was entirely silly, but it was so cute that it made you smile even as you tucked in. Moaning at the taste on your tongue and William occasionally stealing bites from your fork and you from his as in the morning light, you both felt that playful spark passing between you. The cuteness of the morning suddenly broken by the telephone on his kitchen wall which had escaped your notice the night before ringing, William rolled his eyes and stood up, cracking his back before he picked up the reciever and crossed his broad arms across his chest, pressing a button on the wall unit so you could hear the full conversation.

"Morning to you Henry."

"Good morning Wil- Hey, how did you know it was me?" You stifled a giggle around a mouthful of pancake as William rolled his eyes again and rubbed his hand over his face.

"It's always you, the telemarketers don't even call this early anymore." William sighed before leaning against the wall, giving you a playful wink as he spoke to your mutual friend. "Anyway, you're not just calling for fun are you?"

"No, right! Yes... The reason I called!" You nearly choked as you could hear the mild confusion in Henry's voice before returning to it's naturally chipper state, probably forgetting why he was confused in the first place. "The reason I called is that I really need you to come in Will."

"It's my day off."

"Yes, I know I know, but one of the arcades isn't acting right and it's spitting out tickets when it's hitting low scores and nothing on the jackpot."

"Is it a One-Dee-Aye-Zero-Tee error?" He asked, taking a moment before you realised what he spelt and trying not to laugh even more as William gave you that confident smirk again that made your chest tighten up.

"No? You know I'm not familiar with all the error codes like you are! Please, please just come in for half an hour?"

"I uh...I would love to Henry but I genuinely can't." He replied, looking suddenly slightly sheepish as he moved his weight from one leg to the other, making you raise an eyebrow and point to yourself. William simply made a non-commital motion in return.

"Why? Wills if this is about your little guest that I presume is still there, just bring her along and I'll pay both of you for the day!"

"I can't drive, Henry."

There was a pregnant pause as you looked at the taller, older man with a furrowed brow and confusion written over your expression. Watching as even through the stubble you could see his cheeks flushing red and practically hear the gears of Henry's mind turning.

"Damn Will, I mean..did you like...break... it? Cause uh...wow that's mildly impressive almost if she-"

"No. No! God, no! Nothing like that!" William rubbed his hand over his face as he turned even more sheepish looking and could barely look in your direction as he tried to mumble something into the phone, only making you raise your eyebrows again. You could just hear Henry through the phone asking him to speak up however, clearly struggling to understand his friend as he tried to be discreet before William got frustrated and spoke loudly again.

"Look, I broke my damn glasses last night okay? I'm blind as fuck right now." You blinked in surprise as you vaugely recalled William throwing his glasses as they fogged up and bursting into uncontrolled giggled. Trying to clamp your hands over your mouth as you recieved a squinting death glare from your boyfriend as Henry spoke up again.

"You....How? Wait no, I don't want to know! But I do...but...how? How do you even???..." confusion evident in his voice as you tried and failed to stop your laughter.

"Look so I can try to get in but-"

"OH MY GOD IF YOU BROKE YOUR GLASSES WHAT DID SHE BREAK?!" you were unable to hide it as you burst out laughing, hearing Henry calling your name panickedly through the crackle of the telephone. "SPEAK TO ME, IF YOU NEED MEDICAL ASSISTANCE SAY 'PINEAP-"

William slammed the phone down on his friend as you looked at each other and burst out laughing again after a moment. Jokingly holding up some fingers and asking how many there were before William flipped you off and came over to kiss you, humming against your lips as he smiled into your laughter.

"Bunny, we're going to be late." William laughed as he poked his head around the door to his room, looking at you sat on his bed and turning up the cuffs of the jeans he had leant you so that they wouldn't drag on the floor. He had had to lend you clothes for the day since you certainly weren't being let into Freddy's wearing that cute little dress from the night before, but his jeans drowned you even with one of his belts as tight it would go and a flannel shirt over a t-shirt.

You looked like you were a kid playing dress-up, but William simply smiled and padded over to you, wrapping his arms around you as he carefully tucked and adjusted the flannel to sit a little better on your much smaller frame.

"You look very cute though." Grinning as compared to his own lazy black t-shirt, opened pale yellow plaid shirt and jeans, you looked like a mini-him. Sticking your tongue out slightly as you shook your head.

"I look like a kid."

"No, you look like my beautiful bunny," He chastised playfully, giving you a slightly squinty smile as you noticed the bulge of his glasses tucked into his top pocket. It had admittedly been quite amusing when he revealed that they were really broken, one lens popped out and cracked so even if he could force it back into the frame, the vision would still be way off. You didn't remember him throwing it that hard the night before, but you supposed that you were focused on a lot more intense things instead.

"You're always going to say that, you love me." Rolling your eyes and watching as William raised an eyebrow before giving you a stern look and tutting through his teeth.

"I do love you, and here I thought you were a good girl."

"I am!"

"Good girls don't act like brats, they accept when their boyfriend says they're cute." Chuckling as he held your hand and kissed your forehead, humming against your skin before squeezing your hand and looking at you sheepishly again. "Although...I do need to ask a really big favour."

Crossing your arms after a moment, even in his squinty state, you looked all too cute and not in the least bit intimidating. Afton blinked and gave you that lopsided smile that made you melt, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close as he put his chin on your head. Breathing in and realising with a pang of both sadness and comfort that you smelled a little like his cologne as well as your own sweet perfume.

"I need you to drive us to work," He asked quietly, nuzzling into your shoulder as he dropped his head down, feeling you gently shake yours. "Please, I know you have a drivers licence."

"William..." You whined, feeling him turn his head and begin to place scratching kisses against your sensitive skin on your neck, murmuring 'please' against you between each one that made you think back to each delicious kiss the night before, groaning softly as you cradled the back of his head. "You're not playing fairly kissing me like that."

"You'll learn I don't always play fairly, bunny. Pretty please? I promise I'll take you to breakfast afterwards." Hearing the almost childish whine to his voice, you shook your head and laughed, carefully bringing his head up and kissing him as you looked at your handsome, older boyfriend and boss pouting like he hadn't gotten the candy he wanted.

"We've had breakfast, Will, both cremated and edible.

"Then I'll treat my pretty little bunny to ice-cream and cake and all the attention I can humanly lavish upon you?"

"Fine, twist my arm then. You're showing me how the hell to drive your car, and I'm not responsible for any scratches or paint work damage!" Kissing him again before taking his hand and walking down the stairs together, William holding your hand tightly and glad for the excuse that he could keep holding it for just a little bit longer.

Driving through the small town and towards Freddy's whilst trying not to crash in William Afton's car that you definitely could not afford to replace, and you really hoped no cops pulled you over to ask for your registration details, was more stressful than you could have ever wanted to experience. Sure, you had a driving licence, but you didn't own a car and you were sure that the last time you had actually driven a vehicle was during your driving exam. But Afton had made it as comfortable for you as possible, and even allowed you to get out a block down from Freddy's and walk, since you both agreed that you weren't sure it was quite time to tell people about your relationship.

It felt strange, being inside the pizzeria without your uniform on now, and you called back to your first time arriving there, how nervous you had felt and how overwhelming the bright lights, colours and noise was. Now it felt strangely like home, like it really was a place where fantasy and fun could come to life.

Stacey wrapped you up in a bear hug once you got in, taking you slightly by surprise as you watched William slip in and through to the back hall to get his tool kit to fix the arcade, moving slower than normal to avoid earning an additional moniker to 'Wiffle Bat Willy' by punting a child in his blind state.

"Oh, em, gee! You're here on you're day off! Mr. Emily said you were sick on Friday and went home early and I was so worried!" The young woman gushed as she held you close and then at arms length, raising her eyebrow as you realised she had finally noticed what you were wearing. "And this...honestly isn't what I thought you would have as a personal style."

"Gee, thanks for your total vote of confidence!" You laughed, making your work friend laugh too as you shook your head. "It was what was clean and available." Not a total lie.

"Girl, stick a...darn...wash on, wear a skirt or something, god knows I would if I could right now!" Rolling your eyes at her statement, you looked over her shoulder at the groups of children running around carrying paper cups filled with half-strength sodas and hyper from pizza grease and carpet candy, raising your eyebrow as she followed your line of sight.

"Are you sure you want to keep to that statement?"

"On second thoughts, I have enough stains to get out of my clothes without having to scrub my legs raw to get off fizzy-Faz."

"Come on, find me a seat and I'll get a drink or something, I have to hang out for a bit anyway." It was Stacey's turn to raise an eyebrow now as you blushed, wondering if you had given too much away before she looked at the already blazing sunshine outside and sighed.

"Yeah, you don't want to be out there at the moment unless you're in some air conditioned car or bus. Come on, let's get you a table and I'll even get you a colouring sheet if you play nicely with the other kids!"

"Ha-ha, very funny." Ribbing her playfully in the ribs as you managed to snag a seat by the stage, prime real estate at Freddy's, and had a good view of the arcade, where you could see Will knelt on the floor and opening the back of a machine that had the 'out of order' panel placed over the screen.

"Oh look, you get a great view of Afton too!" Stacey laughed, making you blush more and smacking her arm as she retreated to just out of your reach. Cackling as she clearly enjoyed teasing you about what she presumed was a crush on your boss. "He's rubbing off on you too, that looks like one of his shirts."

You weren't sure how much hotter your cheeks could get as she disappeared to continue working, leaving you to sit and wait with your day dreams about what you would rather be doing as William Afton glanced over and gave you a soft smile that made you melt all over again.

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