#also these three next to each other is satisfying somehow

[aeb-art]

i was thinking about characters i've found myself attracted to and,,,

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

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---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[zwoftt]

WEEKLY DORYM MOMOS N OTHER STUFF!!! (in no particular order)))

the chemistry between bells hells and the mighty nein is just so good. i had an absolute blast watching

the settle nod orym gives when jester says dorian is “really handsome” when shaking dorian’s hand

”mr. dorian” cad says when calling over to dorian, who looks a little startled at the professional nickname

dorian nodding in agreement to orym’s plan, as he normally does.

the way dorian tries to show off his abs next to beau after orym asks her what her routine is. the laughter afterwards when he gets embarrassed!!!!

jester winning over braius and getting more backstory than anyone else. so golden.

the jealousy of dorian when he sees how many people are in relationships and [not him] because he’s being a scaredy cat

caleb knocking sense into orym. CALEB KNOCKING SENSE INTO ORYM!!!

anybody else think dorian was trying to set up braius and veth really hard just to get him off of orym??

no thoughts just dorian and yasha bonding over music

the nervous glances robbie and liam share when they’re thinking about what to do with their characters …. especially after robbie tried to knock on orym’s door earlier in the episode but it was drowned out by shenanigans

the frantic inspiration dorian gives to braius when he’s painting orym

everyone getting so silent and so excited when dorian knocks on orym’s door. so is liam! his eyes light up immediately!

the whole confession scene was just so, so, so good. so beautifully well done. it made sense for both characters, and honestly so satisfying to see the moment happen after three years of consecutive pining/yearning. dorian giving orym the chance to make his own choices, and orym curling up in dorian’s embrace immediately just to be there,,, “not wanting to spoil the moment”. some of my favorite lines though, “let me comfort you for once,” from dorian; unaware that he WAS[is] in fact orym’s form of comfort but also implying that dorian finds immense comfort in orym, and orym’s “this is okay.” accepting the fact he is in love with dorian, finally, and truly. INTERLOCKING THEIR FINGERS. sound familiar??? something he couldn’t do with will in the vision???? but he instead does it now with dorian????? uuuuuhghhhhghhhhhh …. dorian fantasizing about them before falling asleep to the sound of orym’s breathing,,, orym staying awake longer to once again watch dorian sleep before passing out too.

also the fact the confession scene wasn’t too dramatic but still surprising and amazingly done just makes that feel so much more REAL. like how REAL LIFE confessions would be with highly traumatized people. not even mad they didn’t kiss yet because boy… just—- ugjjjjhh it was so beautiful, so raw. and it was robbie’s first time doing a romance roleplay too!!!

in the cooldown and [from introspection] robbie says dorian is very inexperienced with love and the feeling of it- since he was sheltered for so long; so orym is basically his first love(but dorian is just also super nervous and respectful towards will and orym’s relationship so that explains why he was so careful about expressing himself too.) and liam mentions orym was too shy to do anything himself so that’s why he had his other character go in there and just slap him on the ass because he wanted orym to talk to dorian somehow. which means that both robbie(dorian) and liam(orym) WANTED to have that exact moment between them, BOTH WANTED them to talk. and also the entire cast was fawning over them, matt getting teary eyed and the girls whispering and laughing to each other, sam getting excited himself and tal just smiling like a dork. everyone was just so proud of them!

DORYM NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING FOR NEXT EPISODES??? IM SO EXCITED TO SEE THE AWKWARD LAUGHTER, LOVESICK FLIRTATION AND EVEN MORE FROM OUR FAVORITE BOYS now time to start the cycle again of waiting years for them to kiss (i hope not please god)

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part seven

and now... a flashback chapter

art by the always amazing @piaart

author’s note: i feel like shit but it helped me finish this up. plenty of terzo pain here meanwhile reader is home, blissfully unaware. i also have no idea if my writing is good at this point but here ya go! part one/two/three/four/five/six. ao3 link.

If you could see the wreck I am these days, you’d have new reasons to stay away. Just hold my hand for a little while —

Misery never goes out of style.

Terzo traces a delicate finger along one of the bags under his eyes, no longer concealed by the dark eye paint he once wore. His brows furrow at the sight of himself in the mirror. The wrinkles have deepened since he left the stage. His hair, now less lustrous, betrays gray strands emerging from his roots and sideburns. All those years spent cultivating his image, trying to become the perfect imperfection that Lucifer himself boasted—only to unravel after one fateful show. He grits his teeth, his mismatched eyes sharpening in his reflection.

With all the glitz stripped away, he loathes how much he now resembles his father…

Terzo forces the thought out of his head. His days are spent analyzing his time as Papa and what went wrong. He wouldn’t do anything differently but it still stung, especially after the new heights and exposure he had achieved for the Ministry. Somehow, it was not enough. His father was never proud of him, a theme that stretched throughout his entire life. Terzo was only ever the Third to him, the third son that would serve his purpose and then be pushed aside for whoever was next. While this had been the typical progression, Terzo was the fool who thought he would be different — even after being warned by Secondo.

Secondo.

“Cazzo.”

He’s late for Uno Night.

The once-revered Emeritus brothers now find themselves relegated to a desolate corner of the abbey with their only entertainment being a silly card game. Their influence wanes with each passing day. Terzo can't help but sneer at the irony of their situation - former leaders now barely more than forgotten relics, with only each other’s company. There was a time when the Emeritus brothers were revered as gods among men. Crowds would surge forward at their concerts, desperate to touch the hem of their robes or catch a glimpse of their painted faces. Devotees would line up for hours, sometimes days, just for the chance to receive a blessing or a fleeting moment of attention. Their every word was treated as gospel, their gestures analyzed and imitated by legions of faithful followers.

In the halls of the Ministry, their presence commanded instant respect and adoration. Ghouls and Siblings of Sin alike would bow their heads in reverence as they passed. Their chambers were filled with lavish gifts from admirers - exotic incense, priceless artifacts, and fervent love letters. The very air seemed to crackle with power and dark allure whenever they entered a room. Now, that electric atmosphere has faded to a dull static. The gifts have stopped coming, the adoring crowds have moved on to newer, shinier idols. The once-mighty Emeritus brothers find themselves grasping at the fading light of their former glory, clinging to memories of a time when they were worshipped as the embodiments of their infernal master.

He used to delicately paint his face for each meeting, a ritual of devotion to himself and his roll as Papa. But now, as he stares at his bare face, he feels a bitter resentment towards the being he once revered. The paint feels like a mask of lies, concealing the growing doubts and anger festering within him. Lucifer's promises of power and glory now ring hollow in his ears, leaving only the taste of ash and disappointment. Terzo exhales through his nose and tears himself away from the mirror, satisfied with his appearance but frustrated with the progression of his thoughts. He had grown more disillusioned by the day with the cause he so passionately promoted, the being he worshipped. Lucifer, once his guiding light, now seemed like a cruel puppeteer, manipulating him for some cosmic joke.

Omega did not like these thoughts. In fact, Terzo has begun avoiding him and instead has been seeking the company of his brothers. Perhaps the one silver lining in all of this is that he is closer than he ever has been with his true family, minus daddy dearest, of course. They had grown up together, with Primo practically raising him and Secondo after they had come to the ministry. Back then he was a true zealot - a satanic lunatic whose fervor for the dark arts knew no bounds. It was from him that Terzo learned the intricacies of their infernal faith, absorbing every ritual and incantation with wide-eyed fascination. Yet, somehow, both Terzo and Secondo emerged less fanatical than their older brother.

But still competitors, nonetheless. Secondo and Terzo had been born to different mothers three months apart so it came naturally. The more time spent together now, the more they realize how similar they can be and deep down, Terzo wishes they had not been so combative. It was encouraged, though, fed and grown by the higher ups in the ministry and their father. Maybe they feared they would be too powerful if they were close.

Now all they care about is Uno.

"Fuck!" Terzo exclaims again, his voice tinged with frustration as he runs a hand tiredly over his face. The weight of his thoughts bears down on him, but he knows he can't afford to dwell any longer. With a deep sigh, he forces himself into action, slipping his feet into his shoes - the familiar spats clicking as he gets them on. Just as he reaches for the door handle, a sharp knock echoes through the room. Terzo pauses, his hand hovering in mid-air. Irritation flashes across his face.

"Enter," he calls out, his voice tinged with impatience.

The door creaks open, revealing a young Sibling of Sin. Their face is pale, eyes wide with fear and urgency. Terzo's irritation gives way to curiosity as he takes in their disheveled appearance.

"What is it?" he asks, his tone softening slightly.

The Sibling swallows hard before speaking, their voice trembling. "Papa, I... I have news. It's about Omega."

Terzo's eyebrows furrow. "Omega? What about him?" He nonchalantly goes back to adjusting his outfit, wondering if this is another plot from the ghoul to try and make him listen to “reason”. He certainly has stooped rather low, almost as low as Terzo.

The Sibling takes a deep breath, as if steeling themselves for what they're about to say. "He's been banished, Papa. Omega has been cast out of the Ministry."

The words hit Terzo like a physical blow. He stumbles back a step, his mind reeling. "Banished?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... how? Why?" Pain is etched across his face.

The Sibling shakes their head, clearly as confused and shaken as Terzo. "I don't know the details, Papa. It happened so suddenly. They're saying it came from the highest levels of the Ministry."

Terzo's mind races, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Shock, confusion, and a sudden, unexpected pang of loss all vie for dominance. Despite their recent disagreements, Omega had been a constant in his life for so long. The thought of him being gone, cast out... it's almost inconceivable.

Terzo's composure shatters as the weight of the news crashes over him. His eyes flash with unbridled fury, causing the Sibling to take an involuntary step back. "Get out!" he roars, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Leave me! Now!" The Sibling, wide-eyed with fear, scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape. Terzo slams the door with such force that the entire room seems to shake, the sound echoing through the corridors like a thunderclap.

As soon as the barrier between him and the outside world is secure, everything crumbles. A primal roar of anguish and frustration tears from his throat, echoing off the walls of his private chambers. In a whirlwind of unbridled emotion, he lashes out at his surroundings. His fist connects with the ornate mirror adorning his vanity, the impact sending a spider web of cracks across its surface before it shatters completely. Shards of glass rain down, glittering in the dim light like fallen stars.

But Terzo's rage demands more destruction. He overturns his meticulously organized desk, unleashing an avalanche of papers, pens, and trinkets onto the floor. Books, once neatly arranged on shelves, are torn free and flung across the room, their pages fluttering like disoriented birds. His wardrobe—a carefully curated collection of robes and suits that once symbolized his power and prestige—falls victim to his fury next. Garments are ripped from hangers and strewn about haphazardly, silk and velvet mingling with the debris below. Spotting one of his Papal robes, an early prototype, he seizes it and tears, splitting seams and fabric into pieces with savage force.

He could kill them. End the reign of his father and Sister Imperator with a knife to their throats, a hammer to their heads. He’s capable and he’s angry.

But that’s not who Terzo is.

His appetite for destruction is as swift as it is thorough. When the storm of his anger finally subsides, Terzo finds himself standing amidst the wreckage of his once-immaculate quarters. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his knuckles having bloodied his gloves from his outburst. The room, previously a testament to his refined tastes and exalted position, now lies in utter ruin around him. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as the full weight of what has transpired begins to settle upon him.

The dust settles around him, both literally and figuratively, as his mind wanders to Omega. Their relationship, once the core of his existence within the Ministry, had deteriorated over the past several months, transforming into a strained and tenuous connection. The rift between them had widened, growing into a seemingly unbridgeable gap that threatened to swallow everything they shared whole. Omega, ever faithful of their infernal master, had persistently begged Terzo to embrace what he perceived as a well-deserved retirement—a supposed reward bestowed upon them by Lucifer himself for their years of unwavering service and dedication.

"Papa, you've more than earned this rest," Omega would implore, his eyes blazing with sheer intensity behind his cool mask that Terzo found increasingly difficult to look at. "Our Dark Lord Lucifer, in his infinite wisdom, has granted you this period of rest and reflection. Why do you persist in resisting? Can you not see the honor in this gift he has bestowed upon you?"

But for Terzo, the notion of settling into a life of idle luxury felt suffocating—a gilded cage that threatened to strip away everything he had fought so hard to achieve. The very thought of turning his back on the empire he had painstakingly built, nurtured, and expanded over the years felt like a betrayal of who he is and what defines him. As time wore on, his arguments with Omega grew increasingly heated and frequent, his frustration mounting with each tense exchange, threatening to boil over into hostility.

"You call this rest, Omega?" Terzo would retort, his voice rising with each impassioned word, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. "This isn't rest—it's nothing short of exile, a banishment from everything I've ever known and loved! How can you, of all people, expect me to sit idly by, content to watch as everything I've dedicated my life to—my very existence—crumbles around me like dust?" The air between them would crackle with tension during these confrontations, an electric charge that made it increasingly difficult for them to occupy the same space without the risk of conflict erupting at any moment.

Now, with the shocking news of Omega's sudden and unexpected banishment reverberating through the chambers of his mind, Terzo finds himself consumed with emotion. Relief, guilt, anger, and a profound sense of loss intertwine in a dizzying dance, each vying for dominance in the turbulent landscape of his mind. Despite their recent differences and the ever-widening divide between them, Omega had been a constant, unwavering presence in Terzo's life for longer than he cared to remember—a touchstone of familiarity. His abrupt absence leaves a gaping void in the fabric of Terzo's existence, a wound so deep and raw that he isn't certain he possesses the means to heal it.

Even with the turmoil raging inside him, Terzo finds himself drawn to the familiar comfort of his brothers' company. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his posture and smooths down his attire, a reflexive gesture from years of public appearances. He may be struggling, but he'll be damned if he lets it show—at least not to them. They have all had their hardships. If anyone knows and understands what he is feeling right now, it is his brothers. Terzo’s steps are heavy, using his feet to clear a path forward amidst everything now on the floor. He reaches the door, hesitating for just a moment. There’s a weight pressing down on him that threatens to crush him, to break him down until there’s nothing left.

He won’t let it.

Terzo opens the door and leaves his room. As he makes his way towards the small room where their Uno nights are held, his mind goes blank, going numb to the intense feelings that are simmering beneath the surface. He trudges down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls, focusing on that sound to keep him grounded. As he rounds a corner, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, a familiar voice catches his attention, causing him to halt abruptly.

Turning, he sees Cardinal Copia emerging from his office, a stack of papers tucked under one arm and an Uno card inexplicably held between two fingers of his free hand. The Cardinal's painted face breaks into a warm smile as he spots Terzo, oblivious to the storm brewing within the former Papa.

"Ah, Papa, on your way to Uno Night, yes?” The cheerful greeting hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the darkness swirling within Terzo.

Terzo's entire body tenses, his jaw clenching so tightly he can hear his teeth grind. The sight of him, so content and oblivious to the turmoil raging through the Ministry, ignites a fire in Terzo's chest—one that he had hoped was extinguished following his outburst in his room. His eyes narrow as he regards Copia with barely contained irritation. "Uno Night," he repeats, his voice low and controlled, though tension radiates from every syllable. "Mmm… yes." He takes a step closer to Copia, his presence suddenly looming and intimidating.

Copia's smile falters slightly, but he presses on, still oblivious and sweet. "It's become quite the tradition with your brothers, hasn't it?" He hesitates for a moment, then reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a blue reverse card. He holds it out to Terzo, a tentative peace offering. "Here, Papa. I always keep this one for luck. Perhaps... perhaps you'd like to have it for tonight's game?"

Terzo's gaze sharpens dangerously as he struggles to maintain his composure. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. The sight of that blue card in Copia's hand—a symbol of the carefree life he now leads—causes the fire to spread inside him, consuming him yet again. Terzo’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and menacing, barely above a whisper.

"Tradition?" His voice is guttural and rough. "You dare speak to me of tradition when everything is crumbling around us? When the very foundations of our world are ripped away from us?" His words are full of anguish and rage, each one striking Copia like a physical blow.

The Cardinal stumbles back, his expression morphing from confusion to outright fear. "P-Papa, I... I don't understand-" he stammers, his voice trembling.

"Of course you don't understand!" Terzo cuts him off, his composure shattering completely. "You're nothing but a pawn, a naive fool dancing to their twisted tune!" He gestures wildly, his movements sharp and erratic. "Do you have any idea what's happening beyond your little bubble of blissful ignorance? Omega is gone! Banished! Cast out like yesterday's trash! And here you stand, grinning like a fool, oblivious to the chaos swirling around you!"

Copia's eyes widen in shock, the full weight of Terzo's words finally sinking in. "Omega? But how- Why-" he begins, but Terzo is far from finished.

Terzo snatches the blue Uno card from Copia's hand, gripping it so hard it begins to crumble in his grip. "And this?" he spits, brandishing it like damning evidence. "You think this changes anything? You think a game can fix what's broken? This card, this... this mockery of what we once were!" His voice rises to a near-scream. "Do you have any idea what this represents? It's not just a game, you fool! It's everything we've lost, everything that's been taken from us!"

With a primal yell that seems to shake the very stones of the corridor, Terzo tears the card to shreds. The pieces flutter between them like confetti, a mockery of celebration in this moment of utter despair. Copia flinches, raising his hands as if to shield himself from the physical manifestation of Terzo's rage.

"P-Papa, please," Copia stammers, his voice barely above a whisper, a plea for understanding, for mercy. "I didn't mean to-"

But Terzo is beyond reason, beyond mercy. His voice drops to a low, dangerous hiss, each word dripping with venom. "Get out of my sight," he commands, his tone brooking no argument. "You don't belong here. You never will. You're nothing but a pale imitation, a cheap replacement for something you could never hope to understand. And take your pathetic games with you!"

As Copia retreats, practically running down the corridor, Terzo stands amidst the scattered remains of the card. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, anger and grief warring within him. In the sudden silence, the weight of his actions begins to settle upon him. He knows, in some distant corner of his mind, that he's overreacted, that Copia isn't truly to blame for the chaos engulfing their world. But in this moment, all he can feel is the crushing weight of loss - of his position, of Omega, of everything he once held dear. And that damned Uno card, now in pieces at his feet, seems to mock him with its cheerful blue color, a stark contrast to the darkness consuming his soul.

If only he could reverse being removed from the Papacy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Terzo straightens his posture and adjusts his shirt in an attempt to calm himself. He struggles to push down the turmoil within, determined not to let his brothers see his inner struggle. As he approaches the card room, he steels himself, forcing his face into a mask of nonchalance.

Opening the door, he finds his brothers already seated. An almost startling wave of relief washes over him. He allows a scoff to escape his lips at the sight of Primo, face fully painted and wearing a Burberry scarf. Before he can comment, Secondo interjects.

"Already gave him trouble for it, stronzino. If you'd been on time, you could've joined." There's a glint of mischief in Secondo's eyes.

Terzo rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his best efforts to maintain his aloof facade. He saunters over to the table, pulling up a chair with dramatic flair. "Well, shall we begin? I'm feeling particularly lucky tonight." He shoots a pointed look at Secondo, silently accepting the challenge in his brother's gaze.

He settles into his seat and the feeling of relief continues to spread through him. Here, surrounded by his brothers and the familiar rhythm of an extremely low-stakes card game, he can momentarily push aside his anger and frustration. In this room, he's not the fallen Papa or a disappointment to the Ministry - he's simply Terzo, the youngest of the Emeritus brothers, ready to lose himself in the game and forget, if only for a while, how far he has fallen.

On this particular evening, Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil would make an unexpected appearance, delivering news that would leave the brothers startled and confused.

They would be unable to continue their card game.

Terzo is deep in his desk chair, his body nearly slipped from it onto the floor. His gaze is locked on the the hell phone which has been ringing nonstop since you left for the night. Your taste is still on his tongue, your scent clinging to his robe. He’s afraid to move to disturb the haze he’s settled into, even though you would be back bright and early for work the morning after next. Fingers fall to his temples, rubbing them with each piercing ring of the phone.

He wouldn’t answer. He doesn’t want to face who is on the other line.

Was it Omega? What could he possibly say? He would only complicate matters—as he already has. The hell phone materialized before you, and you listened to the sounds of the abyss. It drove you into Terzo's arms and bed, but... you didn't deserve to experience such terrors or feel so frightened in his home. Or at least, if anyone was going to frighten you it should be him. His fingers drum along the arms of the chair, a deep grumble vibrating from his chest. The goal is to get you to stay, to devote yourself to him and only him. Yet the fear gnaws at him. What if the terrors you've witnessed push you away? The thought of losing you to the very darkness he once revered sends a chill through him. He wants you by his side, but you have to want to be there. Perhaps, he muses bitterly, this is another of Lucifer's cruel jokes—dangling happiness before him, only to threaten it with the very forces he once embraced.

Maybe the imp who fixed your tire that Terzo had shredded was calling. What was that all about? He didn’t have time to mull that incident over earlier while you were here. Is he manifesting things?

The memory of when he had accidentally shocked you resurfaces, Terzo's frown deepens. He recalls the pain on your face when he zapped your wrist. His gaze drifts to his hands, studying them as if they belong to a stranger. These hands that once commanded crowds, that channeled unholy energies with precision and purpose, now feel like unpredictable weapons. He clenches his fists, feeling the familiar tingle of power just beneath his skin. What if he hurts you again?

Another memory flits to the forefront of his mind — when he screamed at you over his relics being displayed causing a lightbulb to shatter. He remembers the fear in your eyes as it happened. It wasn't Lucifer's doing—it was his own power, his own lack of control. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Perhaps the true threat to your happiness, to any chance of a future together, isn't some external force or cosmic joke. It's him.

The silver lining is that you had seemed to be… into it. But what if next time, it's worse than a small shock or a broken bulb?

The thought sends a wave of despair crashing over him. Is he doomed to be alone, forever isolated by the very gifts that once made him special? The irony isn't lost on him—he who once reveled in his dark powers, who used them to seduce and enthrall, now fears them as the very thing that might drive you away. Terzo slumps further in his chair. The illusion of his perfection continues to fade but he’s stubborn. Unwilling to change his ways even though he knows he can be cruel and difficult.

He originally expected you to just deal with it.

Terzo rises with a frustrated growl, letting the hell phone continue its incessant ringing. He stalks over to his liquor cabinet, hands trembling slightly as he pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. What have you done to him? How dare you make him want to be better? He decides he must, at the very least, attempt to protect you from whatever hell seemingly has in store for you. This includes tempering his emotions, an obvious factor of his otherworldly abilities. Seriously, how dare you?

Taking a long swig, he savors the burn as it slides down his throat. It's a familiar comfort, one that does little to reduce the budding anxiety he feels. With a heavy sigh, he turns his back on the still-ringing phone and retreats to his bedroom, drink in hand. The door closes behind him, muffling the sound of the hell phone but he can still feel its presence. Terzo takes another sip, hoping to drink himself into unconsciousness.

Only two sleeps until he sees you again.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 783: Advancing ranks

Pag 1

1: “Friends”....

2: “People who trust each other and treat each other as equal”

“People who hang out and chat together”

4: Funatsu-kuun

Huh!? Me... me!? What

You and Kiriya-kun are friends?

5: Ye-yeah, we've been together for three years, so of course

And last year and this year we worked hard together and participated in the Inter High....right?

Yeah

And what about me?

Huh!?

Pag 2

1: What about me?

2: Are we friends!?

3: Uhm, well

4: We also were together for three years with this guy and we practiced and participated in the Inter High together

Uh.... well

What shoud I say? How should I answer this question

But this guy doesn't talk about anything but bikes

5: There they are, Midosuji's “cryptic questions”!!

Thank god this time his target is Funatsu

6: What's the correct answer!!

Ahh, dammit... I'm suddenly shaking

Midosuji!!

7: I'm sorry, Funatsu!! Do your best!! Funatsu!!

Pag 3

1: Of course!!

We've been running together for three years!! You're a great friend!!

How about this!!

3: Fr... iends...

Me and.... you?

6: He's satisfied!? Yes!! It was the correct answer!?

Pag 4

1: What, did you misunderstand?

Me and you are not equal in the slightest!?

Pag 5

1: Our efforts, tenacity, our attitude and readiness, and even our imagination!!

Uwaaahiiii!!

2: Didn't you think about it?

Ah.. was there even a moment when you felt like we were equal!? Surely

Dammit so this is what it was!!

3: You that in your zeal for goodness became nothing?

Puku

4: What's this!? This time

Ahh, dammit, don't spout nonsense!!

This time even my parents came to see me

5: Midosuji-san

More importantly

Pag 6

1: The course is changing

Turning west along the flat seaside road

Pag 7

1: it's entering a hill

4: The Kyoto Pass

It's a hill with a 3.5km climb with an incline of 4%, about 250m above sea level

Pag 8

1: According to my plan....!! Alright....!!

Let's move on....!!

2: Heading for the next phase!!

Yeah!!

Yes!!

Yes!!

4: Kyoto Fushimi are assembling and moving up

5: They didn't move in the first half, Kyofushi is saving their legs

Yet on this short climb they're spontaneously moving up their group's position

Pag 9

1: They're moving up!!

3: Seeing him this up close, this Midosuji really is amazing

His body's thickness is completely different from other people's, and his limbs are so long!!

4: He has such an aura that it makes me feel like there's no way I could win!!

5: I broke out into a cold sweat but at the same time I can't help but laugh a little!!

Pag 10

1: They really are amazing, Onoda, Imaizumi... and Naruko, they fought against him last year and the year before!?

3: Sugimoto-san

Sugimoto-san

4: Ah, sorry, is everything alright?

I was just thinking a little about something, just a little

5: That's right, I'm in the “selected team”!! I need to focus more on bringing these guys together!!

Pag 11

2: Huh

3: The two sprinters who went ahead

4: have turned back!!

We're back... we're back!!

5: Sugimoto-san!!

Yeah!! Kobayashi!! Uchikawa!!

Pag 12

1: We somehow managed to catch up to the lead

Is that so!!

But the remaining 3km... too fast!!

I see!!

2: That guy from Hiroshima let us know a lot of things

I see!!

They're so sweaty and their jerseys are all torn out too

3: They worked hard, I'm glad...!!

4: I couldn't last until the very end, but Kobayashi-san was there too

There were four people in front of me so I pushed as hard as I could in fifth place

5: And I placed ninth

Oh you're in the top ten, amazing, amazing!

Waaa, Sugimoto-san praised me, I'm so happy

Pag 13

1: Hahaha

Ah, that's my line....

I'm feeling so proud, somehow

2: Ninth place is amazing

Well... Ichikawa pulled me

Was the lead amazing?

It was!!

3: I'm aiming for the top ten for the mountain line too!!

Really? Do your best!

5: We're an impromptu team and we still have a long way to go in terms of skill, but with our mutual interest and cheerfulness

Pag 14

1: Maybe we could go far!!

3: It's all thanks to Sugimoto-san

No no, I only asked Doubashi

Doubashi-san also helped us a lot!!

4: That's right, next time we meet him

Pag 15

1: I'll have to thank Doubashi

3: Dammit!!

Sorry, it's my fault!!

4: With opponents like that, if I had gone myself we would have placed even lower

This just shows how hard it is to carry out your words in road racing

Pag 16

1: As I told you, you needed to be careful about that guy

3: The race goes went a low pass and passe through a tunnel

Pag 17

1: They went downhill in a line

2: Waa... this is the place for “three seconds”...!!

Kiji-saan!! Fou!!

3: Looking at the limestone quarry that is the raw material for cement

4: the passed through the coal mining factory that supported the growth of Kitakyushu

Pag 18

1: The ranks went south along the riverside in the inland areas of Kyushu

2: Ah....

Oi, Issa, how long....

3: How long are you gonna feel down!?

Pag 19

1: Naruko-san

2: Stop with the depressing sighs

You'll just have to use your frustration as a springboard to keep moving!!

3: Naruko-san, you don't know what it feels like to lose a sprint!!

5: I've matured, I've matured, I've matured.... or I should have

Naruko chanting magic words to suppress his anger

Two people who feel so sorry for him they have no words

6: What's wrong? You're shivering and peeing your pants?

I wanna kill him...!!

7: Hotshot, gimme permission to kill him!!

I don't have that license

8: Ah!!

I see it!!

Pag 20

1: It's the mountain!!

The first day's..... this Inter High's very first....

2: mountain!!

[thatsdemko]

the art of attraction (it’s always been you) - p.gasly

masterlist

pairings: Pierre gasly x leclerc!fem!reader

warnings: fluff + some inaccuracies of Pierre and Charles careers + some angst

note: when I do “—“ to break the scene the next scene in this instance is rather not the next day or later that evening(unless specified).

summary: the story of how Pierre and y/n leclerc fall in love.

a/n: just something to lighten the mood❤️

AGE 5 & 7

maybe that’s when you knew.

when he covered your ears while your parents swore at each other, their voices rising with anger and he slipped into your bedroom to distract you and Arthur from the argument downstairs.

you could smell is freshly shampooed hair from behind you, you could hear his heart beating against his chest as he shushed any worries down your throat.

the concerns wash away as you sink against his chest, the words finally died down and his hands come off from over your ears, “Qu'est-ce que tu as entendu?” he asks in concern that you didn’t pick up any new vocabulary that you shouldn’t of heard. pierre was used to it by now with karting, but you were three years younger than him, and you definitely shouldn’t of heard what you did. what did you hear

“nothing.” you lie knowing that’ll satisfy him. he moves from behind you so you can look him in his eyes. his beautiful ocean blue eyes that you could drown yourself in.

“you pinky promise you didn’t hear?”

“I pinky promise.”

when your pinky’s interlace you could feel the electric waves, you could feel your heart pace increase, eyes growing with hopefulness that maybe he feels it too.

“come on, cherie let’s go find Charles.”

and just like that, your hope was gone. but it started a fire inside your chest and butterflies to form. nothing about Pierre gasly would ever be the same to you.

AGE 7 & 9

the most important day of the year for you was always overlooked; your birthday. it end up typically being on a Sunday or a race weekend, which meant the whole family’s focus was on Charles or Arthur and never on you.

you’d pout and fuss about no presents, birthday cakes, or well wishes from family members. but there was one person who was determined to make your birthday matter. Pierre.

“there she is!” his mother, also named pascale, beams with excitement seeing you in the stands to cheer on your big brother, Charles, and of course her son, Pierre.

“just a little gift for the birthday girl, it’s from all of us.” she presses a soft kiss to your cheek handing you the tiny pink bag with tissue paper falling out of the top. you thank her for her generosity and wait to open the gift until after the race. it was common curtesy, but you knew your own mother wouldn’t be pleased for you to spoil the joy for Charles.

it was yet another birthday spent in an hour of boredom and wishing for something better.

this was the time your mind would race of imagination. the world of delusion was limitless, and most of the time you wished of Pierre. you wished for Pierre to be the one to hand you the birthday gift instead of his mother, or wishing for Pierre to kiss you after his race. your mind never seemed to leave the Frenchman out of your fantasies.

—

“p1! congratulations.” you’re lost in the sea of family members and friends, but he finds you first. you cant help but wonder if you stuck out like a sore thumb or just someone he so desperately wanted to see after his win.

“happy birthday.” he engulfs you in a tight hug, you can smell the sweat and lingering scent of his shampoo that takes you back to two years ago when he held you against him.

you close your eyes and enjoy the moment before it’s taken from you. he’s ripped off of your body by Charles, who’s now congratulating him. a frown forms to your lips as you look down at the pink paper bag that was crumpled against his body. somehow it hurts that the only thing you wanted was something you couldn’t have. it couldn’t be wrapped a tiny bag.

but his hug was better than the silver pendant necklace that you knew he and his mother picked out.

it was the one you eyed summers ago at the antique store in southern France. he watched your big eyes shine under the jewelry’s beauty, and you knew it was Pierre who forced his mother to go back.

maybe it wasn’t such a bad birthday after all.

AGE 10 & 12

“you don’t want to swim?”

his brown wet hair drips over his eyes, he takes his hand and pushes the locks back so he can see you straight. you’re in your tankini(a horrible fashion choice as you look back on it) sitting in the lounge chair pretending to be interested in the gossip magazine in front of you.

“not up for it.” you shrug your shoulders and look back at the gossip of brad Pitt and Angelina, two people you could care less about. because right now, you’re chewing the inside of your cheek watching a new girl swim laps with your brothers and Pierre.

she was a girl from school. of course she was, and she had long blonde hair and was wearing bikinis because her chest has developed. you hoped she couldn’t see you glaring at her from underneath your sunglasses as she plays basketball with the boys in the pool. you were trying very hard to be different in hopes that maybe Pierre would notice you and forget about the blonde girl. of course your attempts failed when it was Arthur who swam up to you.

“what? you always want to swim.” Pierre’s shocked, it took your parents hours to get you out of the pool you loved it so much. he was wondering what had changed since last summer.

“she’s in some weird phase leave her alone.” Lorenzo grumbles at your attitude. the boys go back to playing the pool while you attempt to wrinkle under the sun, except every time she laughed you had to make sure it wasn’t at something he said.

this was the part that hurt while being in love, is trying to be okay with them finding someone else.

AGE 13 & 15

it’d been months since he’d last seen you. karting was taking him to new places that he hadn’t been home in forever. he was beginning to forget the smell of the salty oceans, the sound of the seagulls in the morning, and you. all this time away from home, he found himself itching for you.

when he heard the sound of the car door slamming and the mixed chatter coming from the front door, he could feel the sense of belonging again. all that time away, it changed him, and he wondered if it had changed you.

the front door clicks open and Pierre looks away from the television. he watches your family members pile in one by one, he sits in an anticipation that’ll you show, and when you do it doesn’t disappoint him.

your hairs a bit shorter from the last time, your legs are tanner, and you’re wearing mascara, but nothing about you changed. the smile when he made a joke, the shyness you got around him, it all was the same.

it’s his turn to feel the butterflies when he looks at you. and this time when he looks at you, and when your eyes connect you actually feel it radiating off of him.

he was in love.

—

“mind if I join you?” he steps up into the attic. it was a place you five used to play in when you were kids. it wasn’t safe, as there were many holes in the flooring, but it became your quiet place when you needed time alone.

you look over your shoulder to see he has a peace offering, a tiny glass of limoncello that he stole from downstairs.

a smile is brought to your lips as you motion for him to come closer, “you didn’t have to steal to come here.” you chuckle taking the plastic cup from him while he situates himself beside you.

“well you could’ve turned me down. I needed a plan to make you want me to stay.” he nudges his shoulder into yours and watches you swallow the liquor with a bitter face.

he laughs and it’s like music to your ears. you can feel the little hairs in your ears stand up, the chill run down your spine, and the familiar swarm of butterflies in your stomach. it was too easy for him to make you feel this way.

“awful?”

“horrible actually.” you choke out setting the cup on the ledge. you swore you could’ve thrown up then, but everything in you stops when you feel his knuckles against your chest.

“you still wear this?” he holds the the necklace charm against his palm, a soft smile forming against his lips. all you can do is nod. he took the words right out of you as his blue eyes flicker upwards towards you.

“I think I have a birthday gift that might top this one.” he lets go of the charm and finally you can breathe again. you feel your muscles relax as you touch the charm that was once in his hand.

“what do you have in mind?”

“close your eyes and I’ll show you.”

you’d never obeyed faster. your eye’s immediately shut. you could feel the world around you spinning with anticipation as you wait for his whatever it is.

you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body, he must’ve moved closer. his palm rests against your cheek and before you know it his lips are pressed against yours. the kiss is soft and gentle, but his lips fit like a glove. you can feel the sparks, they warm your bodies up as you move closer to him with the exact same energy kissing him back.

“hold on,” Pierre whispers, pulling away. he watches your eyes flutter open in utter confusion, “that was really good.” he whispers, chest visibly rising and falling as you just took the air right out of him.

“but?”

“we’re just kids, y/n. maybe some other time, I just don’t think we should date yet.”

AGE 15 & 17

your first everything was Pierre. at fifteen there wasn’t much you needed to experience besides a crush and kiss, but lately you had noticed high school moved at a much different pace.

half the girls you were friends with had already had sex, boyfriends, or multiple kisses, but you still clung onto that one evening when Pierre not only kissed you but then ripped a bandaid right off your wound. that night still hurt.

and while you were encouraged to move on and find other boys, nobody compared to the beautiful Frenchman.

you’d experimented with other boys, which meant fooling around making out and an occasional nude photos, but your mind never stopped going back to Pierre. no matter how much he had hurt you that night, you still wanted to experience something more than a kiss with him.

it was one sided though, as Pierre had began dating a girl a year older than you and she’d shown up to many of his races. you’d thought you’d have moved on, but that was until it was the first birthday where Pierre had no gift for you. that was when you realized you still really cared about him.

“just move on from him.” your dear friend whispered into your ear as you watch the two walk hand in hand to the track. you could’ve sworn you were about to be sick to your stomach.

“I can’t.” you whisper back pulling your knees into your chest, you watch her pepper his face with kisses, “I need to leave.” you stand up from your spot in the stands and climb down the steps, you brush past the two and for the first time you don’t even look over your shoulder to see if he’s watching, but he is.

—

“you don’t wear my necklace anymore?”

your neck looks bare under the dim lighting of the attic. he wonders when the last time you wore it was, because he hadn’t noticed the last time that it was gone.

“why do you care?” you snap taking a sip of beer from your red solo cup, the contents make the sour look against your face contort, and it makes him laugh. that damn laugh. you could curse him for finding this moment funny, because all thoughts you had cleared of him come running back.

“because you loved that necklace.”

“have you thought about that maybe the guy who gave it to me was an asshole?” you raise your eyebrow and watch the little smile across his lips vanish. he knows exactly what you’re referring to. the night when you were thirteen, he shot you down. he could never forget the look on your face and how you cried into Lorenzo’s arms. the look on the elder leclerc’s face was enough to scare him off.

“I was an asshole, but I’m your asshole.”

the words started that fire you sure was burnt. you could feel the flames ignite in your stomach as you push yourself closer to his body, you can thank the alcohol for that.

“in order for you to be mine, you have to ask me.” you rest your hand against his chest, you can feel the beat of his heart quicken under your palm.

his hand finds your hip, he licks his lips, “I don’t think I need to ask when I know the answer.”

“just ask me, asshole.” you grit through your teeth, he throws his head back laughing and says something in French that you can’t make out.

“y/n leclerc, will you be my girlfriend?”

“yes.”

AGE 17 & 19

the pendant necklace, a beautiful silver promise ring, and silver dangly earrings are the gifts you couldn’t take off even if you wanted to.

he’d made up for the lost time of traveling in Monaco for karting and his transitions into f3. Charles had tagged along, the two still conjoined at the hip despite the new relationship that had unfolded between families.

“you like them?” he asks watching you fiddle with the silver hoops he’d picked out with his first sponsor paycheck. he promises once he can afford it, Tiffany diamonds is all you’ll ever know.

“like them?” you turn to face him from your vanity, “my Pierre,” you get up from the chair and press a kiss to his lips, “I love them.”

he chuckles against your lips, you can feel the vibration run down your body, “good.”

your friends had told you his gift giving was excessive, but you couldn’t have been happier. he made time for you, now with an income he could fly from France to Monaco to visit you for holidays and birthdays, but it did mean he spent a lot more time in the cars than he did with you.

“will you be at the track tonight? I can’t race without you.” his fingers brush your hair back behind your ear, he pulls you into his lap, “I need my good luck charm.” he presses a kiss against your lips.

it’s your turn to giggle against his lips, “you’re awfully needy today.” you say wrapping your arms around his neck, “but I wouldn’t miss a race, p. I’ll be there for you.”

“what about me?! I exist too you know!”

“shut up, Charles!”

AGE 18 & 20

he missed it.

you couldn’t believe it. he missed your birthday for the first time since dating.

you waited by your phone for hours that day. it was one of your very first birthdays where it wasn’t surrounded by karting and formula 1, it was a birthday that everyone was free as a bird and he missed it.

“I’m sorry, Cherie.” Charles peers into your bedroom, a visible frown against his lips, “I really thought he’d call.”

“it’s fine, cha.” you brush him off, but he knows better. he sees the sadness in your eyes that he didn’t call.

“it’s not fine, y/n. he’s your boyfriend now, he’s supposed to remember stuff like this.” Charles comes into your bedroom, he takes a seat at the end of your bed, “next race, I’m going to push him off the track.”

“don’t jeopardize your race for his mistakes, Charles. just play fair.”

“well he’s going to get something don’t you worry.”

AGE 19 & 21

he barely called anymore. life was shaping him into becoming a formula 1 driver and he just never gave you the time anymore.

you’d moved out of your parents house and into a small studio apartment in Monaco that overlooked the hairpin of the infamous Monaco circuit. you’d be able to see his car one day drive that turn and maybe bring home a victory. but right now, Red Bull was taking your love away from you.

the phone on your nightstand finally rings. it’s a miracle that after all that praying he calls. it’d been over two weeks since you’d heard his beautiful voice.

“bonjour,” you say almost instantly when you pick up the call. you can hear the chatter in the background, it must’ve been a mistake, a butt dial perhaps. but you stay on the call in case.

“y/n, you there?”

“yeah I’m here.” you say turning away from your homework that desperately needed your attention, but the man on the phone sounded unfamiliar to you. you knew it was him, but something had changed.

“hey, I’m sorry I have to cancel dinner plans.” he says, the chatter is still on going. was he really doing this now? in front of his team?

“that’s fine.” you exhale a deep long sigh that might’ve been over dramatic, but you were annoyed. it was another dinner you had planned that you would be eating alone.

“what’s wrong?” he shush’s whoever was talking so he can hear you better.

“nothing, Pierre, it’s just I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

“I’m sorry, you know that right? it’s just training and simulators, I need to focus.”

you sigh. this really is it, huh? becoming best friends with his voicemail box and eating shitty dinners alone. you couldn’t do it any longer. you couldn’t believe this would be the thing that would tear you apart. you could’ve sworn once you were together, there would be no stopping your love. but it turns out formula 1 had its own plan in the making of your relationship.

“well let me help you focus even more, because we’re done.”

AGE 21 & 23

he was driving the cars he’s always dreamed of doing so. he finally was in formula 1. this day couldn’t be better, but maybe it could. after seeing you arrive with Charles for his start at Alfa Romeo, the pang of regret and guilt stings his chest.

he’s reminded of the days and nights he didn’t call, the anniversaries he missed, the celebrations he should’ve been at, but the days he missed were the reason he got the seat in the first place. it came with a hefty emotional price.

but seeing you in the paddock surrounded by his family, and your family, he couldn’t believe what a fuck up he was. it shouldn’t be like this, and he knows it.

“good luck out there, sweetheart.” your mother wraps him in a tight hug, it looks like he’s held hostage, but you believe he deserves it. he put you through an emotional rollercoaster that you’re happy to be off of, but a girl never stops loving her first crush.

because while you should be angry at him, your heart still goes putty over him. your heart still beats to his rhythm despite the torture he put you through. you couldn’t calm yourself down when you looked over at him, his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, his jawline covered in stubby hairs. he looked much better than you did.

he gets podium. his first formula 1 podium and the radio conversation is still buzzing in your ears. he took the time to thank not only his family, but you. it had to have been you, he called you his good luck charm, and you knew it was you by the way his mothers eyes beamed under the sunlight.

you attempt to look anywhere that’s not him. your eyes try to concentrate on Lewis Hamilton and his beautiful tattooed hands as they grasp the lip of the bottle, and just as your eyes were finally settled on him, you felt the spritz of champagne against your skin.

your eyes find the man who’s leaning over the edge with a bottle of champagne pointed towards the crowd. his blue eyes search the sea of fans and team members until he finds you, your body is squished against the barricade front and center.

even if you wanted to hide from him and become just another fan lost in the crowd, you couldn’t. your heart always pulled you towards him even if it broke every vessel in your body.

he moves down the podium steps, you could feel your heart against your chest. he had the capability of doing this, after not speaking for nearly years he had the ability to start a fire in you with just a blink of an eye.

you watch it happen in slow motion. he moves across the barricade allowing fans and other team members pat his shoulder and chest with encouraging words to boost his ego. the smile on his face is irreplaceable, his cheeks are red from the sweat, tears, and discomfort of his own grin, but he can’t pull it off. he’s inches away from you, allowing his mother to hug him and kiss his champagne flavored cheek, he allows Charles to pat him on the back, and finally it was your turn.

you can feel the bodies against your back pushing you into the metal trying to get as close as they could to him. their hands touch his chest, shoulder, or anything they could grab onto as he leans in and smashes his lips against yours.

your fingers pull his face closer to you, as you kiss him with all of your might like the world was going to end if you didn’t. the cheering and whistling becomes background noise as he pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you so much more, Pierre.”

—

“for you, I’m going to try and make this right.” he whispers, the words stuck against your sweaty skin, kisses peppered against your shoulders, “you’re my endgame. I believe it.”

heat spreads across your face as you attempt to burry your head into his chest, “I want to be your endgame.” you say curling into his body, your ear is pressed against his chest, you can hear his heart pounding against its cavity.

closing your eyes and then opening them, you try to make sure that this is real. the boy you once dreamed of having was fast asleep underneath you, small snores escape his lips, you can’t believe he’s yours again. lost, found, lost again, and then found once more.

this was a love only ever written in novels.

AGE 25 & 27 (NOW)

“I thought I’d find you up here.” he says reaching the final step into the attic. he’s tall enough now that his head nearly hits the roof, he has to crouch to make his way over to where you sit looking out the window of the house.

“where else would I be?” you turn to him, a chuckle escaping your lips as his head bumps right into the roof before he sits down across from you.

“everyone’s waiting for us.” he takes your hand in his, thumb caressing your knuckles. you look up into his eyes, he looks handsome today. in fact, he looks handsome every day but he looks even better in his tuxedo with a crooked flower pinned to the jacket.

“they can wait a little longer.” you carefully move onto his thigh leaning your back into his chest, “I just want to be with you. alone.”

he hums in response, and just wraps his arms around yours. you rest your head back against his shoulder and suddenly it’s like your five again. the smell of his shampoo is a little faint from the cologne, but when you inhale once again there it is.

“you ready, mrs.gasly?”

“I’m ready, mr.gasly. take me home.”

I'll follow you into the park

Through the jungle, through the dark

Girl, I never loved one like you

That's true, laugh until we think we'll die

Barefoot on a summer night

Never could be sweeter than with you

And in the streets you run a-free

Like it's only you and me

Geez, you're something to see

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog

[foolishlovers]

MUTUAL PINING FIC RECS: Below you'll find a list of Good Omens fics in which Aziraphale and Crowley are pining for each other.

You can request more fic recs here.

you play with my feelings (right from the start) by PenroseSun (G, 3k)

There were three things of which Crowley was absolutely certain: 1. Aziraphale, being an angel, was required to be kind and loving towards all things, even when those things were flawed or sinful or fallen. 2. Notwithstanding that obligatory kindness, Aziraphale would never, and could never truly love a demon, in any meaningful sense. 3. Despite this, Crowley was desperately, hopelessly, in love with him.

For To Quench My Thirst by apliddell (G, 6k)

After moving to Sussex with Aziraphale, Crowley is trying so hard to be satisfied with friendship and the suddenly beautiful life he already has.

Slow by write_away (T, 9k)

It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions. You might say it started like this: An angel and a demon found a marriage contract hung on the wall of the angel's bookshop. They didn't question it. It also could have started like this: Once upon a time, the angel told the demon he went too fast. The demon took it to heart.   Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

got a pretty face, pretty boyfriend too by KissMyAsthma, leukozyna (T, 9k)

Aziraphale and Crowley are next-door neighbours. They’ve been attracted to each other since they met. The only thing keeping them apart is a thin wall between their bedrooms and Atticus and Freddie, Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s respective life partners… or are they? A human AU glued together by misunderstandings and wet food.

speed limits (and how to break them) by darcylindbergh (E, 13k)

There is a trick people do with a mint candy and a bottle of cola which results in a small eruption, and something very like it, for much higher stakes than a laugh in a car park, is about to take place in Aziraphale’s back room. Or: what happens when you finally unscrew the cap on a six thousand years of repression, and drop in Valentine’s Day.

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak by triedunture (M, 17k)

"Yes, exactly. Retire." Aziraphale reaches for the last remaining tartlet brimming with summer berries. "Somewhere along the south coast, perhaps." Or: Crowley and Aziraphale learn to move in tandem.

32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (E, 32k)

”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan Okay, fine. Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him. He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.

Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship by WaitingToBeBroken (E, 50k)

Crowley is very good at temptation, not so good with what comes afterwards. Aziraphale knows demons don't love so he is happy to take anything Crowley would give him. Both of them are too blind to realize the thing they want is right in front of them.

Fledging by FeralTuxedo (M, 53k)

Cool Dad was at the school gate again. Clambering out of his ridiculous sports car like a great big spider, all black denim and designer sunglasses. What a prat. He made his way towards the entrance, followed by his equally lanky son. All the mums' eyes were on him. Which was fine. At least they weren't staring at Aziraphale for a change. Cool Dad high-fived his son goodbye, because of course he did, then sauntered back to his car. Making it look so bloody easy. Aziraphale Fell is much too young to be looking after eleven-year old Pepper. He barely has his life together as it is, with his minimum-wage job and a half-baked dream of trading rare books for a living. And as if adopting a recently bereaved pre-teen isn’t enough, there are some rather more adult problems to navigate: playground politics, the shadows of his own childhood, and the growing question of how Crowley, the only other dad at the school gate, feels about him. A human AU/kid fic.

Style and Substance by Cabernet_Woebegone (E, 89k)

“But y’know, if my boss finds out I’m helping you even a little, they’re gonna throw me out on my ass.” “Yes, I understand it is a bit of a conflict of interest for you… Is there something I can offer you in return? Something you would like?” Aziraphale questioned hopefully. You, Crowley thought loudly as he took a second sip. I want to know if you moan when you kiss the same way you do when you try something delicious. I want to know if your lips taste like Zinfandel. “Yes, actually.” Aziraphale is having difficulty running his restaurant, and it isn't helping that he believes the place across the street is trying to sabotage him. To his surprise, chef Crowley comes to him on friendly terms. Together they come up with an arrangement that could benefit them both.

On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (E, 133k)

1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles. Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning. Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5. Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water. Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.

Old Vines by sevdrag (E, 189k)

A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity. Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in. Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Two

Playdate, back by popular demand babyyyyy! 😘😘😘. Thank you, my thirsty little mutuals for your love and support <3 Now let's go straight back to hell, shall we?

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

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Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 7k

Chapter Summary: Three weeks after your initial meeting with Dave York you meet again. This time however, without your husband (at his own insistence). Marcus wants you to feel free and unencumbered by his presence to explore your wants, needs and fantasies with Dave and you reluctantly agree to it - just this once.

Notes: OK Marcus does take a bit of a back seat in this chapter but not to worry, he'll be back full force in the next!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Cuckolding. Wife sharing. Dave York's mouth needs its own warning (and to be washed out with soap). Dirty Talk. Degradation. Daddy Kink. Praise Kink. Soft!Dave York (enjoy it while it lasts, it won't be long). Dom!Dave York. Oral sex (m and f receiving). Rough oral sex. Biting (just one lil bite). Frottage. Dave is spitting in your mouth again because it's Dave and that's his M.O.. Spanking (just a couple swats). Mention/brief discussion of anal sex. Breathplay. Unprotected P in V sex. Naked female/clothed male. Cockwarming. 'Cozy Boyfriend Vibes' Marcus also gets a warning because he'll make your heart grow three sizes. If I missed anything lmk!

Nervous anticipation thrums through your veins as Saturday evening is finally upon you. Marcus had texted Dave about a week ago regarding another “session” for the three of you and tonight was the settled upon date you’d all agreed on. It’s been three weeks since you last saw - and first met - Dave York. Your husband's business colleague turned… well, you weren’t sure what to call him now. Threesome partner, sort of? The man who, regardless of anything else, was surely responsible for the dramatic upturn yours and Marcus’ sex life had taken the last three weeks, that’s for certain. Ever since your single time with Dave, you and Marcus have been insatiable for each other. Not that you ever had much of a problem in that department to begin with, but recently you’ve dialed it up to eleven, not being able to keep off of each other.

You fucked in the shower, on the couch, the kitchen floor, and even one memorable Sunday morning with you sitting on top of the lid of the washing machine while it was running with Marcus standing between your legs drilling into you as your whole lower half shook and vibrated to the unrelenting rhythm of the spin cycle.

Still, as much as Marcus was keeping you satisfied (and he was) the thought of being with Dave again thrilled you. He was such a polar opposite to Marcus, whom you absolutely loved and adored, and you’re not saying that different is better. Different is just… different. Different excites you and opens up both yours and Marcus’ world to things that weren’t in it before and really, that was the goal of this whole thing to begin with.

You were so nervous at first while being with Dave with Marcus watching. As much as it excited you, you couldn’t help the little gnawing feeling in your gut that you could be hurting Marcus somehow or making him feel inadequate. He’d assured you enough that night that that wasn’t the case, but it was always playing at the back of your mind. The absolute last thing you want is to cause any kind of rift between you and Marcus. So when he had suggested a week later that you try it again you made sure to have several long discussions about it first to ensure that he really wanted this as much as you did because if he didn’t, you would be fine with cutting the whole thing off. Finally after a week of discussions you both agreed you wanted to involve Dave again and Marcus had started up a group text conversation between the three of you. So far it had just been Marcus and Dave texting back and forth a couple times, deciding on a date and that was it. You were nervous about sending any messages to Dave yourself, at least for now, so you let everything go through Marcus, though you were glad he tried to include you by inviting you to the conversation.

Tonight would be different though. So different from last time and as if you weren’t already nervous, now your anxiety is ten-fold after what Marcus had recently suggested to you. He told you that he thinks you should have one night just with Dave by yourselves. He could tell how into it you were last time but he felt that you were constantly holding back and feeling nervous about how he was feeling and he didn’t want that. He wanted you to be free to explore what you wanted to explore and then next time Marcus would be back in the mix and hopefully not only learn first hand what you liked, but get some tips and tricks from Dave along the way. You argued a bit with Marcus at first, telling him that wasn’t the deal and you wanted him part of it but he explained his side and assured you he would be okay with it and told you to take a couple days and really think it over and so this afternoon you had finally made your decision and decided to take him up on it. Just this once, you had insisted.

He hadn’t even told Dave about it yet because he wasn’t sure if you were going to agree to it or not until a couple of hours ago and now he was worried Dave might not even show up if Marcus changed the rules on him last minute so he decided to talk to Dave when he came over. If he wasn’t okay with it, then they’d go back to the original plan and Marcus would stay.

You drain your second glass of wine as your fingernails tap nervously on the counter until finally the doorbell rings and you and Marcus both turn to each other and share a glance.

“Right on time” Marcus shrugs, pushing back from his chair and heading to the front door. You decide to head straight upstairs and let them talk, because you don’t want to hear the conversation if it turns bad and Dave has no interest in you if Marcus isn’t directly benefiting from it, since that was the original arrangement.

A couple of minutes tick by and you sit nervously at the end of the bed until finally you hear footsteps approach and the door swings open, revealing both Marcus and Dave. You assume this means Marcus is staying and you’re not sure how to feel about it. Part of you is glad, you want him here, he makes you feel safe and comfortable (whereas Dave makes you feel literally the exact opposite) but part of you wonders how interested Dave really is in you and if this is all just a fun game to him that doesn’t really get him off unless he’s got Marcus here to cuckold.

“Honey I told him what we talked about… he’s okay with it” Marcus explains as he crosses the room to you and your shoulders settle as a breath escapes your lips. Suddenly you’re even more nervous then you thought you’d be.

“Sure you don’t wanna stay Pike? I’m having fun watching her squirm already” Dave muses, winking at you and you feel your cheeks flush. Maybe Marcus should stay.

“Hey,” Marcus gets your attention and he’s staring at you with a soft smile to calm your nerves. “I love you, ok? I’ll be down the street at the bar, gonna catch the game. Just… promise me you’ll have a good time” he says and you nod your head before you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. You hold on, continuing to kiss him because you need him to know before he leaves how much you love him, appreciate him, and how part of you doesn’t want him to go.

Eventually he slows your kisses down and lets out a little laugh as he pulls back. “Have fun, I want you to” he says before he leans in and places a kiss to your forehead and then turns to walk out the door, closing it behind him and sealing you and Dave inside alone.

You stand next to the bed and wring your hands together in nervous anticipation as Dave slinks forward, sly grin on his lips.

“Hey Baby” he greets casually as he steps in front of you, places his hands on your waist and gives you a good look up and down. You feel much less exposed this time at least. You’re wearing a knee length silk robe that’s tied around your waist, protecting some of your modesty.

Which was all for nothing, apparently, because seconds later before he even utters another word or allows you to greet him back, his one hand comes up and tugs one end of the sash holding your robe closed and it falls right open, revealing your skimpy little black laced bra and matching panties.

“H-Hi” you stammer out, arms instinctively coming up to wrap around yourself.

“Don’t” Dave says, surprisingly softly, his gaze locked on to your chest. You drop your hands to your side, still nervous as hell but it's an exciting kind of nervous as Dave brings a single finger up to trace the top edge of your bra over your left breast.

“Pretty” he murmurs before he gently pushes the robe from your shoulders and it pools on the floor at your feet. His hands go back to your waist and he leans down and captures your lips. The kiss is heated as he reacquaints himself with your mouth, your tongue, exploring every inch like he needs to commit it to memory and your body leans into his instinctively, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck as he moans into your mouth.

Whatever you were expecting tonight, it wasn’t this. He’s being… soft. His hands lightly smooth up and down your sides and across your back and before long his mouth leaves yours to kiss down your jaw and to your throat. You tilt your head to give him better access and whimper when he hits a particular spot on your throat and sucks before laving over it with his tongue and then moving on to kiss and lick and nip at every inch of exposed flesh until you’re practically trembling in his arms. Your hands clutch the short hairs at the back of his head as he anchors you in place, your knees feeling weak already as his mouth transcends a little lower to your collarbone and then the tops of your breasts.

“Ohhhh” you gasp softly when he mouths at your left nipple over top of the lace garment and his hand comes up to lightly pinch at the other and then he switches sides and repeats. “Fuck”

It feels strangely intimate, what’s happening right now. It's reminiscent of how you are with Marcus and that wasn’t supposed to be the point for being with Dave. You’re finding it really tough to complain, however, when his mouth is making every coherent thought escape your brain entirely. Finally he unclasps your bra and lets it fall to the floor and then he spends minutes on your breasts, paying each one equal attention with his mouth or his hands and all you can do is push your hands through his hair and whimper and moan with your head occasionally lolling backwards when it gets to be too much effort to hold it upright.

Dave is silent, which is odd enough in and of itself. The only sounds from his mouth are the soft licks and kisses and hums as he devours your tits and it's night and day to the Dave that was here a few weeks ago who was calling you names and barking orders at you.

Finally he begins descending lower still, trailing kisses down the middle of your stomach and lowering himself to his knees as he goes. Your hands go to hold onto his shoulders just as his mouth reaches the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you; those soft brown eyes that are jarringly familiar and yet so different from the man you are married to. Keeping his gaze locked on yours, his hands come to your hips and he slowly drags your panties down your legs until you’re left completely bare before him and your heart is hammering in your chest. The eye contact alone that he’s giving you is sending little ripples of pleasure down your spine and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Dave” his name leaves your lips in a whisper and suddenly his face is in your cunt. He spreads your lower lips with his fingers and his tongue licks a slow broad stripe straight up the center and your knees nearly buckle with the pleasure that shoots through you.

“Lay down” he instructs and you shuffle back the few inches to the side of the mattress and sit on the edge and lower yourself down on your back and Dave is back on you, lifting both your legs and draping one on either of his shoulders and his hands rest on your hips to hold you down as he’s kneeled on the floor in front of you.

“Oh fuck” you cry out when his mouth is back on you. His tongue circles your clit a few times until he sucks it into his mouth and your hips chase the pressure of his mouth, desperate for more. He releases your clit and then his tongue trails down the center again and begins prodding at your entrance with the tip of his wet muscle.

“Oh my god” you whine, hands flying down to clutch in his hair again and he moans loudly into you, sending little shockwaves through your pulsing cunt. One of his hands leaves your hip and his thumb comes down to put pressure on your clit, rubbing it in tight small circles while he continues fucking into you with his tongue and soon enough, you’re gone. You shoot up onto your elbows as you feel the dam burst and let out a choked sob as you cum hard and fast, hips bucking wildly into Dave’s face as he continues his assault, working you through it and not slowing down.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” you chant until you literally can’t take it anymore and your hands go to his head in an attempt to push him away and thankfully he takes the hint and his thumb lifts from your throbbing clit and his tongue switches to long slow licks through your folds, lapping up the sticky residue of your release.

“Mmmmm” he hums into you, seemingly content on licking up every last drop from you before he starts planting little kisses all over your sex, your mound, your thighs and finally he pushes up from his knees and leans over you to trail kisses up body until he reaches your mouth and kisses you soundly, just once. Just long enough for you to get a taste of yourself on his tongue and then he releases you and rests his forehead against yours.

“Hi” he smirks - he fucking smirks - at you.

“Hi… fuck!” you breathe out and Dave huffs out a little laugh before he pushes himself back up to a standing position and holds a hand out for you. You take his offered hand and he helps you up until you’re back in the position from earlier and his hands go to your hips again.

“What was that for?” You ask, genuinely curious and Dave shrugs.

“I knew you’d be nervous without Pike here, figured I’d help settle the nerves first. Feel nice and loose now, don’t ya baby?” He grins, jostling your hips back and forth slightly and you let out a little laugh.

“And now that we’ve got the pleasantries out of the way,” he begins, that menacing tone from the first night you met him suddenly back and you try to ignore the pleasant little tingle it sends down your spine. His mouth reaches your ear and he gently pulls the lobe between his teeth before releasing it and finishing his thought with a whisper into your ear “you can show your Daddy just how much you missed him, hmmm?”

You pull your lip between your teeth again as a small groan escapes your lips. Dave is tonguing at your ear canal and sucking the lobe into his mouth and your eyes close as a little whimper escapes you.

“Answer me” he growls, his hands gripping tightly at your hips, yanking you forward a couple of inches so your pelvis presses into his and you feel the unmistakable press of his desire against your hip from underneath his clothes.

“Yes Daddy” you nod enthusiastically and let your hand snake down between your bodies to cup him over his pants. “I’ll be so good for you” you add and he groans.

“On your fucking knees baby” he orders, a little breathless and you instantly comply, dropping to your knees in front of him and pressing your face into his crotch to kiss his length over his pants and he hums in approval, bringing a hand down to run through your hair. You kiss over his shaft a few more times before your hands come up to his belt buckle and you stop, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Please can I have your cock in my mouth? Want it so bad” you tell him, putting on your best pout and his eyes close momentarily and he tosses his head back before finally refocusing on you.

“Yeah baby, take me out” he instructs and you waste no time opening his belt, yanking down the zipper and pulling his pants and boxers down to his thighs so his cock bobs out right in front of your face. You’re about to press forward before you stop yourself and settle back to sit on your heels, tilt your head up to Dave and open your mouth wide and wait.

“Oh fuck” Dave curses, eyes closing again and you have to fight back the grin that wants to emerge at how damn proud of yourself you are.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl” Dave growls before he grips your jaw tightly in his hand and angles his head down to spit into your mouth. You give him a coy smile when the saliva hits your tongue and then lean forward and wrap your mouth around his cock and suck.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby” he praises you, hands gathering up your hair until he can hold it all back in one hand so he has a better view of you swallowing him down.

“You take my cock so fucking good baby girl” he continues and you hum around him, bobbing up and down and taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. He lets you go at your own pace for a good couple of minutes and then he begins pushing back with his hips until he’s fucking into your throat and you’re forced to just stay still and take what he gives you. He forces deeper and deeper with each thrust and every so often he’ll push all the way down your throat and hold you there until you gag and choke on him until he releases you and starts all over again.

“Goddamn fucking whore how you take this cock baby, hmmm? Fucking cockslut aren’t you?” He continues uttering pure filth and you simply hum affirmatively and nod your head into his groin as he continues to feed you his dick until your eyes water and your throat is raw.

Now this is the Dave York you remember. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as he towers over you, degrading you and taking exactly what he wants.

“Come here” he grunts suddenly and grabs you under your arms and hauls you back to your feet, his leaking dick sliding out from your mouth as you're dragged away from it.

He kisses you harshly and his hands come down to grope your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands and squeezing roughly before his grip loosens slightly into a massage instead and you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck, turn around” he orders. His hands leave your ass to grab your shoulders and turn you so you’re facing the side of the bed and he pushes you down so you’re bent over lying on your stomach on the mattress with your feet still planted on the floor behind you and your turn your head to look back and watch Dave sink to his knees.

Your body jolts on the bed when a sharp slap from Dave’s right hand lands on your ass and then he’s soothing over the surely red mark.

“Look at this perfect fucking ass” Dave growls, both hands grabbing at your cheeks and spreading them before he lets go and swats at the left cheek and his mouth comes down to gently bite at the meat of your right.

“Oh!” you can’t help but moan, hips rocking into the edge of the mattress.

Dave gets back up again but bends over your body so his cock is at your ass and his mouth at your ear. “God I want to fuck this tight little asshole so bad” he confesses and drags his dick between your cheeks for emphasis.

“Oh fuck” you whimper and you don’t know if it’s fear or excitement. Maybe both. “Dave I…” you trail off. You’re not ready for that, in every possible way.

“I know baby” he hums into your ear. “Don’t worry I won’t” he promises and you release the breath you’d been holding, your muscles instantly relaxing from underneath him.

“I think… m-maybe I might want to, some time…” you stammer helplessly. You’re definitely interested, but you want to be prepared first.

“I know baby” Dave soothes, one hand sliding between you and the bed to massage a breast in his hand and the other goes around your front between your legs and begins to play with your clit and you begin whimpering again. “Daddy will buy you a toy next time, hmm? We’ll work on getting you ready until one day you’ll be begging me to fuck your tight little hole hmm?”

“Oh fuck, yes” you whine as the pads of his first two fingers draw agonizing little circles around your throbbing clit.

“You need me to play with this little pussy baby?” he taunts, gently pinching and rolling the taught little bundle of nerves between his fingertips.

“Mmmhmm” you nod frantically against the mattress but then he instantly stills his moments.

“What’s that now?”

“Yes, yes, please play with my pussy” you appease him immediately, knowing just what he was waiting for and you can feel him smirking against the side of your face.

“Turn over” he instructs and you do, then he climbs onto the bed and hauls you up further so you’re no longer half hanging off it. He’s propped up on his elbow on his side right next to and you watch as he sucks two fingers into his mouth and then brings that hand between your legs and starts rubbing in slow circles.

“Ohhhhhh fuck” you mewl, gently writhing and letting your legs fall open wider for him.

“Yeah that’s better, hmmm? That’s what you needed baby” Dave coos, his forehead resting against the side of your head. “Play with your pretty tits baby, let me see” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice, both your hands coming to grab the soft flesh and alternating between massaging the mounds and pinching and pulling at your pebbled nipples.

“Oh fuck” Dave moans and then leans over you to take the closest one into his mouth, sucking and licking over the sensitive bud. He pulls back again after a moment and refocuses his attention on his hand between your legs, his digits sliding down to prod at your entrance until he slips two inside and buries them to his knuckles.

“Jesus, this tight little fucking pussy” Dave growls, working his fingers in and out. “So fucking wet for me”

“Yes, oh feels so good” you whine, eyes closed as you slide slightly up and down against the mattress, rocking yourself into his hand.

“Look at you” Dave clicks his tongue. “Fucking yourself on my fingers, just can’t help yourself can you, little minx” he huffs. “You wanna cum on my fingers?”

“Please” you let out in a breathy whisper.

“Please what, baby?” He asks, just as he curls his fingers at the perfect spot and you cry out as your next orgasm rapidly approaches.

“Oh fuck, please let me cum. Please Daddy”

“Good girl” Dave rewards before he shifts his position so he’s up on his knees between your legs and starts driving his fingers in and out of you at a relentless pace. The wet slaps reverberate off the walls as his hand pounds into you, fingers sinking in and out of your sopping core and your hips chase the pressure of his thrusts.

“Oh my god!” you squeal as he hits a particular spot and your vision begins to blur.

“Oh we found it did we?” he grins, doubling his efforts to push harder and faster into you as his free hand comes up to press his thumb down on your clit and you instantly cum in a silent scream, your orgasm racking over your entire body until you collapse back into the mattress with a blissed out smile spread on your lips.

“God damnit, I need to fuck you” Dave growls suddenly and he’s all but manhandling you into a new position. He grabs you around the waist and flips you over until you're on your hands and knees and he pushes down between your shoulder blades so your head is down and your ass is up in the air. You turn your head the best you can and watch as he fists his cock a few times and then brings it between your folds to coat himself in your arousal. He’s sliding in and out of your slick lips, the tip of his cock bumping deliciously into your clit with every thrust and you slide forward slightly on the bed as the threat of another orgasm chases straight on the heels of the last one.

“Oh god, fuck” you whimper into the pillow.

“Fuck, feels good doesn’t it baby? You wanna fucking cum again don’t you?” He asks and you nod frantically.

“Please, I’m so close”

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you upright so your back is to his chest, both of you on your knees and he continues bucking his hips, sliding through your folds and you look down to see just the tip of his head occasionally peek through from between your legs as he rubs against your pussy with his hard length. His hands come to your hips next and he helps you drag yourself up and down and your own hands reach up and behind you to wrap around his neck and just hang on for dear life as he slams into your throbbing little bundle of nerves over and over again.

“Cum all over this cock baby, fucking soak me” he growls at your ear and it does you in. You tip over that edge again and your body falls forward down onto your elbows as a choked out sob escapes you.

“Oh my god” you huff, chest heaving and body shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up. Dave is still rocking into you and it’s way too fucking much on your oversensitive clit. You need him inside you or ten feet away from you, one or the other, you’re not sure, you just know you can’t take this particular brand of torture any longer.

“Dave, I - oh fuck”

“Beg for me” he seethes between clenched teeth as he tries desperately to hold himself together. “Beg for this fucking cock Sweetheart”

“Please!” You cry out instantly, not wasting a moment. “Need your fucking cock inside me, please. Please fuck me”

“Goddamn slut” he snarls before he thrusts forward and sheathes himself in your wet heat and you let out a guttural moan at the delicious stretch. One of his hands goes to your shoulder and the other has a bruising grip on your hip as he fucks into you fast and hard and you’re practically convulsing underneath him.

“Fuck baby, taking this cock so good, Jesus” he pants as he pounds into you from behind so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall and if you had any functioning brain cells left you’d be worried you were about to break the bed.

“Oh fuck you're gonna make me cum” he huffs, head tossed back and eyes squeezed shut as he drives into you so hard and fast you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head, your mouth open in a silent scream you're pretty sure only dogs can hear.

"God damn baby" he growls, his pace still relentless and you need him to finish. You know he's waiting for you to give him one more but as good as he's making you feel you don't think there's any possible way you have one more in you so you do your best to coax it out of him whatever way you can.

“Oh god, please cum for me Daddy, I want it so bad” you whine pathetically, hoping it will do him in, but then your moans turn into a loud gasp when you feel the hand that was at your shoulder wrap around your throat and squeeze the sides. It’s harder and longer than last time and before long there are dark spots at the corners of your vision the longer he holds. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore and you’re about to grab for him to tap out he releases you and blood rushes to your head and you lose focus on everything except the way your cunt clenches down on Dave’s cock as wave after wave of euphoria hits you.

“Oh fuck. That's my good girl. Fuck fuck fuck” Dave grunts and pulls out of you, fisting his cock over and over again until ropes of his warm seed begin to coat over your ass and lower back until he has nothing left to give and he turns over and collapses on his back in exhaustion.

You lower your hips back down to the bed so you’re flat on your stomach, still coming down from your own orgasm and both of you are heaving on the bed next to each other, trying to catch your breaths.

You finally start coming back to yourself and you turn your head over to the other side to look at Dave and a laugh suddenly escapes you.

“What?” Dave questions, clearly not in on whatever’s got you in stitches.

“You just fucked my brains out and didn’t even remove a stitch of clothing. You still have your fucking shoes on!”

Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss, but the whole notion is wildly amusing to you for some reason.

Dave looks down at himself as if he’s now just noticing you’re not wrong. His pants and underwear are around his thighs but other than that he’s fully clothed from head to toe and now he lets out a laugh before rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Fuck me” he groans, exasperated.

“Not again, give a girl a break” you joke and he rolls his eyes playfully before he swats at your ass.

“Smartass” he grumbles before he lifts his hips and pulls his pants up and then rolls off the bed and heads to the bathroom. You hear the faucet running for a minute and know you need to get up yourself and clean off but you literally don’t know if you can move after whatever the hell that was that Dave just put you through. You lost count of the orgasms.

To your surprise however, Dave comes back (fully dressed again with his appendage back inside his now refastened pants) with a washcloth in his hand and walks up to your side of the bed and holds it out to you.

You thank him shyly and are glad when he turns away from you to give you some privacy. You’re not sure how on earth you can possibly still get embarrassed in front of this man after the things he’s said and done to you and you to him, but you do. If Marcus were here he’d clean you up himself, soft strokes of the warm cloth between your legs and you’d watch him with a dopey smile on your face at how sweet he is to you and pull him in for a kiss when he was done.

And speaking of Marcus you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand next to you and you reach for it to read the incoming text. You see that it’s actually from Dave in your group chat and you glance up to see him with his back to you, phone clutched in his hand.

“What’s the score? I had the 9’ers to cover” it reads and you roll your eyes and huff a little laugh. You guess that’s a better way of saying ‘hey, all done here fucking your wife into another dimension if you wanna come home now’

Three little bubbles appear as Marcus is typing a reply and you feel a little flutter in your tummy, a smile involuntarily crossing your lips.

“Sorry buddy, hope your kids college funds weren’t riding on that game”

Kids? Interesting. You’re suddenly realizing you don’t actually know anything about this man. No wedding ring though so you assume he’s divorced at least.

You click back to your messages page and pull up your direct line to Marcus without Dave in it and type a simple message.

“Come home ❤️”

He replies instantly.

“On my way”

You get up from the bed and grab for your discarded robe from the floor from earlier, tying it around yourself and head off to the bathroom to pee. When you come back out Dave is still standing there and you realize now you have no idea how you’re supposed to say goodbye to him. The nerves and awkwardness suddenly flooding you again.

“Well, um… thanks, for tonight” you say, wringing your hands together and he offers you a comforting smile.

“My pleasure baby, c’mere” he says and reaches a hand out to grab yours and tug you towards him. He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. He doesn’t linger, doesn’t turn it into more, just wants to put you at ease and it does.

“Don’t be a stranger now” he winks at you and you reward him with a soft smile.

“I won’t” you promise, giving his hand a small squeeze.

“I can see myself out” he tells you before releasing your hand and he walks off out the bedroom door as you call out a soft ‘goodnight’ to the back of his retreating head.

As you hear his heavy footsteps down the stairs a flash comes across your bedroom window and you realize it’s Marcus’ headlights as he pulls up the drive and you wander over to the window and glance outside. Just as Marcus is getting out of the car Dave is walking down towards his own sleek black sedan that’s parked at the curb and the two men stop when they meet. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you watch as Dave reaches a hand out and Marcus grabs it and they shake while Dave’s other hand lands on Marcus’ shoulder and gives it a firm pat and they release each other. They stand there for another minute or so chatting, about what, you have no idea, until finally Dave lifts a hand in a goodbye and turns down the driveway and continues towards his car.

You turn back and flip off the lamp that was lighting the room and crawl into the bed, ridding yourself of your robe again and tossing it over a nearby chair before pulling the covers over you.

“Hey Baby” you hear Marcus call out softly a minute later when he enters the bedroom.

“Hi” you sigh dreamily, happy to hear his voice, happy to have him home.

He wastes no time stripping down and crawling into his own side of the bed and shuffling over to you. The moment he’s next to you you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly, burying your face in his neck and wrapping your limbs around him like a spider monkey with separation anxiety.

“Hey, you ok?” Marcus asks, hugging you tightly to his chest for a moment before pulling his head back to get a look at you. His hand comes to rest on your cheek and forces your gaze to his.

“Yeah I’m ok” you promise. “Just missed you”

“I missed you too” he sighs before leaning in and kissing your forehead. He pulls back after a second and stifles a laugh.

“What?” You ask, brow furrowed.

“You smell like Dave” he laughs, wrinkling his nose and you roll your eyes but are laughing as well.

“I’m not surprised, he literally left his clothes on the whole time” you tell him, shaking your head at the memory. You’re so used to Marcus who would probably never have either of you wearing clothes when you were alone inside the house if it were up to him.

“Really?” Marcus asks, features scrunched up in disbelief and you nod your head.

“What a weirdo” he teases and you laugh.

“He’s your friend” you counter.

“Our friend” Marcus corrects you and you hum.

You suppose he’s right.

“So… what was it like?” Marcus inquires further and you contemplate for probably a moment too long on how you should answer.

Mind blowing.

Incredible.

But not the same because it wasn’t you.

“It’s ok baby, I want this too, remember?” He prods further, waiting for your answer.

“It was um… a lot?” You laugh. “Like literally I’m going to need a break for a day or two”

“God damnit York” Marcus huffs but there’s no real anger there, you can hear the playfulness in his tone. “Put my wife’s vagina on a timeout” he grumbles under his breath and suddenly you’re erupting with laughter just as Marcus breaks out into a huge grin and joins you.

“Baby I love you so fucking much” you confess after the giggling finally subsides.

“I love you too. So much” Marcus replies easily, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling back to smile sweetly at you.

“Do you… wanna take a bath with me?” You ask. You know you have the smell of sex and Dave York literally all over you and you assume Marcus doesn’t love that but to your surprise he just snuggles you a little tighter and hums into your hair.

“I don’t mind. I uh… kinda like you like this” he admits and despite the darkened state of the room you know he’s blushing. You also know he’s not lying either when he pushes his hips just slightly and you feel exactly how much he likes it pressing against your thigh. Marcus is kinkier than you give him credit for. And the secureness he has in your relationship and his own masculinity is so incredibly sexy you wish you had even an ounce of the energy you'd need to let him know how good he makes you feel as well.

“Baby” you let out a little whine. You want so badly to be with him but you physically don’t think you can do it. You don’t have another orgasm in you, you just don’t. And it’s not fair to Marcus for you to just lie there like a cold fish either when he wants to make love to you.

“I know” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But I’m, I thought, maybe…” he trails off, like he’s embarrassed and that has your attention.

“What? Tell me baby”

“Well do you um, remember last time with Dave? What he said about like… keeping it warm?” He begins and your tummy flutters at the memory. You absolutely remember.

“Yeah, the cockwarming thing?”

“Yeah” Marcus shrugs. “M-maybe we could try that? Only if you want to!” He adds hurriedly and you smile.

“Baby, if you’d let me fall asleep with your cock inside me, I’d literally marry you all over again” you tell him and his face lights up like a kid on Christmas just given their first puppy.

“Fuck, really?”

“Mmm hmmm” you nod, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. “I wanna feel close to you” you confess.

And you do want to. You’d never even thought of doing this before because typically if he was inside you it was because you both wanted or needed to get off but now seems like the perfect time. For you at least. You hope it’s going to be enjoyable for Marcus and not pure torture if he’s too worked up and can’t do anything about it.

“Are you sure though? That’s going to be ok for you?”

“Turn around on your side” Marcus tells you rather than answering and you do so he can spoon up behind you like your usual sleeping position together. He sits up and reaches over you and pulls open the bedside drawer and grabs the small bottle of lube that you keep in there. He squeezes a few droplets into his hand and tosses the bottle back before you feel him behind you getting himself ready and then he’s sliding between your thighs, warm and hard. You’re grateful at how considerate he’s being, your sweet Marcus.

“I’ve got you honey” he whispers into your cheek as he slowly drags himself between your folds a couple of times to coat you in the slick from the lube so you’re more comfortable and then gently pushes inside, both of you groaning when he’s buried to the hilt. He reaches just a touch deeper than Dave and feels so good inside you like your bodies were simply meant to fit together.

“God I fucking missed you” he breathes into your shoulder before planting a kiss to it.

“Missed you too Marcus, so much”. There’s tears at the corners of your eyes threatening to spill. You love this man more than anything and all he wants is to make you happy and it makes your heart soar. You feel so close to him with him nestled inside you, you feel like you could stay like this forever and you’d die happy.

“Go to sleep baby” he hums and then wraps his arm around you to hold you tighter against him.

The slow and steady throb of his cock inside you is like a heartbeat and lulls you to sleep in minutes, pulling you into a dreamless and restful slumber for the rest of the night until morning comes and you make sure to show Marcus exactly how much you appreciate him.

Chapter three

Taglist (if you want to be added, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads

[wonwoonlight]

shiny star | lee seokmin

➝ Seokmin x Reader

➝ shiny star!au // university!au // non idol!au // strangers to lovers // fluff // slice of life

➝ word count: 5.3k~

➝ warning: curses, food.

➝ inspired by: Shiny Star (2020) - KyoungSeo

➝ shiny star playlist

➝ Shiny Star masterlist (can be read as standalone)

Seungcheol // Jeonghan // Joshua // Junhui // Soonyoung // Wonwoo // Jihoon // Seokmin // Mingyu // Minghao // Seungkwan // Hansol // Chan

A/N: in an ideal world, this would drop on 18 February 2022 00:00 KST and be proofread. alas, this world is nothing but ideal. happy late birthday seokmin, it's been long since i write anything so i hope this is... okay. enjoy.

A/N 2: shoutout to @twogyuu and @lily-blue who share the same birthday as our precious boys &lt;3

널 좋아하는 내 마음이 표현이 안 돼 the way I like you can't be expressed 꿈이 아니면 좋겠어 자꾸 웃음 나와 I hope this isn't a dream, I keep on laughing

[✾✾✾]

Seokmin has never liked people whispering.

It makes him feel like he’s out of loop and sometimes it feels like they’re whispering about him. He doesn’t like it even more when he catches people whispering with each other without trying to be subtle; why bother whispering then? Might as well just talk loudly if they’re going to make someone uncomfortable one way or another. Why make them anxious for no reason?

That said, he’s very annoyed right now because the group on the table next to him is clearly snickering to each other about someone in his class, whispering to themselves (even though he can still hear parts of their conversations that he doesn’t want to be a part of) as they not so subtly point at someone in front of the class.

Seokmin truly wishes whoever they’re pointing at, this person doesn’t notice because at least they’re not facing each other.

…always by herself. Tsk. She probably thinks she’s above everyone.

True. Just because she’s top of the class and everything. No wonder she doesn’t have friends.

Have you ever seen her talk to anyone in class?

No. I;m pretty sure she–

And he puts on his earphones and drowns their voices, turning up the song so he wouldn’t have to listen to whatever bullshit they’re spewing anymore. It works, but his eyes travel to the girl sitting by herself on the second row up in front; her body slumped forward as she leaned on her arms.

Cruel how one can stay silent and people would still make shit up somehow.

[✾✾✾]

The next time Seokmin comes to class, his eyes find the same girl on the same seat, this time with earphones on and hand busy scribbling something on her notebook. 

He also notices the same girls seating a few rows behind, whispering and pointing like no one else can see what they’re doing. It irks him, but he’s never been one to confront people and act heroic; so he does what he can in his own way, makes his way next to the girl and sits on the empty seat right next to hers.

The whispering seems to stop, if only for a few seconds. And when the faint hushes continue, he assumes it’s for a different reason.

“Is it… okay to sit here?” He asks, albeit a little late.

You look so startled, as if not expecting anyone to be addressing you–let alone sit on the empty seat next to you when there are obviously lots of empty ones on the back.

“Umm… Yeah, sure.”

He beams even though you seem like you’re still not sure how to interact with him.

“I’m Seokmin, by the way. It’s too noisy in the back nowadays, figured I should try sitting in front.”

This seems to satisfy you, as you nod and offer him your name, and Seokmin pats himself in the back when you take out your earphones and put them back in their case. This means you’re not against him being there, right?

The awkwardness that follows is a little hard to swallow, but he forces another question after a painful three seconds for the both of you.

“You always sit in front, don’t you?”

You shrug then repeat what he exactly just said a while ago. “It has always been noisy in the back for me.”

And the conversation stops again.

You don’t look like you don’t want to talk to him though, just very unsure about what to say and Seokmin will take that as a win. Thankfully, Professor Kim comes in just in time and starts the class almost immediately after. It’s a hit or miss when it comes to his class, and sometimes it’s such a big miss that Seokmin regrets taking History of English Literature as an elective, cursing Wonwoo for saying this course was easy and he didn’t have to do much.

The thing about Professor Kim is that he speaks quite fast and his power point sucks. He explains well, but sometimes Seokmin struggles following his pace that he’d miss words in his notes. He sighs as this happens yet again, then his gaze ends up on your notes and he must’ve gasped audibly because you turn to give him a questioning look.

“Your notes are… very nice.” is the only thing he dumbly manages to say.

“Thank you…?” You blink in confusion then, without meaning to, turn to look at his notes. You hold back a wince at how messy it is, though you appreciate the fact that he’s trying and he’s here to actually learn something. “Do you… need help?”

With the way he looks at you, you might as well be offering the world to him. Damn, you’ve never seen someone who looks so much like a harmless puppy.

“You’d do that?”

You shrug, telling him you don’t mind. You’ve always liked helping people study, but no one except for Jennie and Jimin ever asked for your help. Even those two hesitated at first and only gathered enough courage to ask you after you got close. 

“Can we talk after class?” 

“Sure.”

And that’s how you end up here one hour later, still in the classroom even though everyone else has left. Seokmin, as it turns out, is not very good when it comes to speed writing. You went through his notes for a bit after class ended, and you pressed your lips together to hold back whatever you wanted to say because you don’t know this guy enough to see if he’d get offended.

Well, whatever. You were the one who offered to help, anyway, and he does look very harmless of a person.

“How do you want me to help?”

“Mmh…” Now that you put it that way, what was he expecting of you? “I either miss his explanation or miss writing things down because he speaks quite fast. So it’s always one or the other and I always end up borrowing someone’s note or asking a friend to explain it again after class.”

You seem to consider this for a bit, lips pursing in thought as you focus on his notes and Seokmin takes that time to finally, finally look at you. How has he never noticed you before? You’re not the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, but you’re definitely attractive and you’re most definitely his style.

You have a lot of piercings on your left ear, he notices (because your right one is covered by your hair), and when his eyes wander to your lips, he realizes that they are on the smaller side and it’s then that he snaps out of his gaze because your lips are moving and he barely registers whatever’s coming out of them.

“–tomorrow?”

“Sorry?” He smiles sheepishly. God, you’re so going to think this is why he’s bad at taking notes, that he’s bad at concentrating and you’re going to regret offering him help.

Unexpectedly, you let out a huff of amusement before repeating your words, not a speck of annoyance in your eyes.

“I said I already have plans today so I’m not sure I can help you as much as I’d like to. Would it be okay if we see each other tomorrow?”

The ‘yes!’ that comes out of his mouth is way too fast that he’s almost embarrassed, but seeing the way your face scrunches up in amusement is worth it and he quickly asks for your number so he can text you tomorrow. He feels like a high school boy all of sudden, heart giddy as he patiently waits for you to punch in your number into his phone.

Seokmin bites back a smile as he looks at your contact even minutes after you left the room, saying goodbye with the prettiest smile and a small wave.

[✾✾✾]

“I want to try this katsu place.” Jimin announces his presence before he plops down on the empty seat in front of you, though neither you or Jennie look up from your phones. “And because you brats don’t have manners, you two are coming with me. No choice whatsoever.”

Jennie groans, but still asks when and where, finally putting her phone down to give him the time of her day. You listen to the conversation, not really in the mood to join in their usual banter because you honestly just want to take a nap but you already bailed on them three times this month so you have to be here now.

You value your life more than that. You’re not risking Jennie and Jimin taking your life with their bare hands if you miss another hang out.

“Somewhere in Yeonnam. And I want to try immediately. So, lunch tomorrow.”

“Can’t.” You sigh, then glare at Jimin when he dramatically whispers that you finally put down your phone. “Promised someone I’d help them with this subject.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. This guy from my History of Literature class.” You pause. “But you guys can go ahead and try the katsu place without me if you want.” When you look up to meet their stares, you wince and sit straight on your seat. “...or not. Reschedule or we can have late lunch? I should be finished at 2 ish.”

“Late lunch it is.” Jimin grins, clapping his hands together in satisfaction. “And I’m picking you up. I’m not letting you bail last minute for whatever reason.” 

[✾✾✾]

“Do you want me to be completely honest?” You end up going straight to it. Seokmin looks soft-hearted, and you mean it in the best way possible, but for someone as curt as you are, it’s not always easy to thread around someone like him. You don’t want to offend him by accident, but you don’t know him enough so you suppose you don’t really have any choice but to go straight to the point and see from there.

“...sure.”

“I think it’s less about you not paying attention, but more about you not used to writing… umm… summarized notes?”

Seokmin tilts his head, and the way his eyes are trying to find answers in yours almost make you blush, so you clear your throat and pretend to point at something on his notes.

“You don’t need to write down every single word he’s saying. Just the keywords.” You start off, making sure he’s listening. And once you’re sure he’s grasped what you say next about taking notes, you continue to go through the subject and parts that he still doesn’t quite understand.

It goes on like that for about 40 minutes, which is already more than you expected it to be. You thought Seokmin would be the type that would take breaks every fifteen minutes, even for a bit, but he’s been so focused on studying that you actually feel a little touched that he’s taking this seriously.

You have always had a soft spot for people who work hard, and even though you don’t know which major Seokmin is actually taking, you know this course is just something he takes for the credits. Perhaps he thought it’d be easy? That’s the general impression people have when it comes to literature. 

Whatever it is, you appreciate him working hard right now.

You jump when your phone buzzes with notifications, and when you look at it, it’s the group chat blowing up yet again.

[13:36] Kim Jennie: we’re meeting at 3 right???

[13:36] Kim Jennie: am like 30 mins away from yeonnam so i’ll head out at 2 30

[13:43] Jiminnie: ok ok

[13:44] Jiminnie: where u at @yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: ynnnnnn 

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn answer me😡😡😡 

[13:45] STOP wtf

[13:45] Jiminnie: YN😡😡

[13:46] Jiminnie: oh youre here

[13:46] Kim Jennie: yes jimin wtf?? I’m muting you guys

[13:46] Jiminnie: not my fault she’s not answering???

[13:47] Have you considered that some of us have something to do????

[13:47] I told you I’m tutoring this guy from my class

[13:47] And I’m in the Central Building, you’re really picking me up?

[13:50] Jiminnie: yes 🥰

[13:50] Jiminnie: brought my car with me today

[13:50] Hooo nice. Then please get me some boba while you’re at it <3 Thank you, mwah 

[13:51] Yeonnam is only like 10 minutes away by car tho right?? 

[13:51] I’ll wrap up my tutoring session at 4.30 then

You look up when you hear Seokmin groan from your side, cracks his neck then straightens his back.

“Let’s take a ten minute break?” You offer, and his appreciative groan makes you chuckle that he scrunches his nose in embarrassment. You look through your bag to see if you have some snack, and when you find a chocolate bar you tap his shoulder and offer it to him.

“You sure?” He asks like you’re giving him some kinda expensive gift.

“You deserve it.” You shrug. “I’ve never seen someone so focused on this subject.”

“That’s a compliment… right?”

“Definitely.” The grin you send his way is enough to make him grin too, and Seokmin thanks you once again before taking the chocolate and immediately breaking it into two. “Oh, thank you.”

He looks at you weirdly, though the smile doesn’t fall from his face. “This is literally your chocolate, why are you thanking me?”

“I gave it to you though. So it’s yours.”

“Yeah, but it’s still originally yours?”

“Do you want the chocolate or not?”

“Right. Sorry.” He pretends to sulk, but the smile in his face betrays the whole act and you end up laughing with Seokmin before your phone buzzes again, making you jump once again. Seriously, you never get used to the sound of electronic devices vibrating against any surface.

Your phone lights up, Jimin’s message on top of your screen.

[13:55] Jiminnie: you’re lucky i love you

Next to you, Seokmin tenses. Why, he’s not sure.

“Boyfriend?” He says before he knows it, and when you look at him in surprise, he clears his throat and gives you a hesitant smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to look. I thought it was my phone vibrating and I accidentally looked at your text.”

“It’s fine.” You shrug, understanding that it could happen. “And no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

And you leave it at that, not giving him any explanation because, frankly, you don’t owe him any. You don’t seem to notice Seokmin’s curious and lingering gaze though, and you start another topic as you ask about his major instead.

You end up talking for more than ten minutes, because conversation falls easily with Seokmin. You’ve always liked making new friends and talking to people despite your way of talking, but approaching someone and talking to them first is a personal fear of yours that you don’t think you’d get over anytime soon.

That said, Seokmin seems like a very sweet person and talking to him proves that your assumption has been right. He’s not overly chatty, but you can tell he’s passionate about certain topics and he’s very attentive to what you’re saying even though you’re just talking about some random episode you remember happening in retrospect to something he said.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone as sincere as he is.

[14:32] Jiminnie: you finished? Am gonna arrive in front of the central building in 5 mins

“Oh.” You blink at his text. Huh. It’s already half past two? Didn’t you just take a ten minute break right before two?

Seokmin looks at you in worry, and when he asks if something’s wrong, you give him a small smile and lock your phone again. “Sorry, I promised to have lunch with my friends at 3 and I need to leave in a bit.”

Friends, huh? He wonders if you’re just saying it. But he can’t deny the bitter feeling on the tip of his tongue as he remembers ‘Jiminnie’ once again and the text he saw. But, then again, doesn’t it make sense that someone as attractive as you to have a boyfriend already? Or someone who’s close to being one?

His mind suddenly takes him to the girls snickering about you; the absolute bullshit of assumptions they’ve been spewing about you. They don’t know how fun you actually are, and even though you can be blunt with your words, even from the short time he’s spent with you, he can tell that you’re very considerate. You seem to know when to stop yourself before saying anything too blunt.

“Seokmin? Are you not going to tidy up?” You ask when you realize he’s been zoning off, your fingers hovering over your phone screen.

“Huh. Right.” He wonders if he should just leave or study a little more, not that he wants to at this point. Maybe he can text Seungkwan and the others to see if they’re still in uni. “Where are you having lunch?”

“Oh! My friend wants to try this katsu place in Yeonnam so we’re going there.” You pause and wonder if Jennie and Jimin would mind you inviting him to your lunch date. Seokmin seems nice enough, though you’re not sure just yet if he’ll mix well with your little circle. Hmmm, maybe next time. “You going somewhere?”

Seokmin shrugs. “Not sure yet. I’ll try texting my friends to see if they’re still around, I don’t really feel like going home just yet.”

Should you just invite him?

“Do you w–”

“Heyyy!” A familiar place echoes through the classroom, Jimin’s happy grin peeking from the door. When he realizes you’re not by yourself, he blinks and stands straight before making his way to your table and places the boba you asked for then greets Seokmin with a friendly smile. “Oh. Hi! Sorry, I thought you’re by yourself.”

You look at the drink with twinkles in your eyes, and hug him a little from the side as a thank you.

“I’m Jimin, by the way.” He kindly offers his hand with a smile, and Seokmin returns the gesture as he introduces himself. He takes the guy in and wonders if this is the kind of guy you’re into, or if he really is just a friend. He knows he shouldn’t assume, but, then again, he always tends to do that when he’s interested in someone. Everyone feels like a competition.

Wait.

Is he interested in you?

“Oh! You’re friends with Hansol, aren’t you?” The older guy exclaims once he realizes why Seokmin looks familiar. “I think I’ve seen you around with him before.”

“Oh, yeah, I am. How do you know Hansol?” He really doesn’t feel like talking to Jimin at this point, but he doesn’t want to be rude and it’s not like he’s done anything to piss him off. He seems nice, if anything. Seriously, he needs to get his mind together. 

“A friend of a friend. I need to hang out with him one of these days.” He trails off on his own, when he notices you finish organizing your stuff, he asks if you’re ready to go. “It’s nice meeting you, Seokmin! I’ll see you around.”

He returns the sentiments, giving him a forced smile that’s hopefully not too strained. His smile softens when he sees you though, and you shyly wave at him, whispering a ‘I’ll see you in class’ before you leave with Jimin.

Damn, he’s already in deeper than he thought he was.

[✾✾✾]

It becomes a routine for you to meet and just hang out with each other after Professor Kim’s class. The first few meetings, you mostly studied and would talk from time to time during breaks. But at some point, you end up just talking with so little studying on the side.

Seokmin seems to be better at taking notes nowadays, and the fact that you’re helping him probably contributes a lot to him understanding better too. Objectively speaking, your notes are really easy to understand and you’ve kindly offered him to study together if he's up for it.

Why wouldn't he be?

"I don't think I can study today," you say as soon as you sit next to him in class. That's become a routine too, one that, thankfully, has made the whispering die down even though it still happens from time to time.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you, something inside him flips at the fact that you feel the need to apologize even though it’s not like you’ve both promised to meet each other every week. It’s been… what, almost two months? Wow, has he really been constantly hanging out with you for two months straight? “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Jimin wanna go somewhere and he decides that I’m going with him.” You scrunch your nose in mock annoyance. 

After two months of hanging out with you and Jimin popping in out of nowhere from time to time, Seokmin realizes that he really is nothing but a friend. You’d sometimes complain about his tendency to drag you and your other friend (whose name you’ve yet mentioned) without really giving you any choice to refuse. Though, most of the time, you do end up having fun so it’s just a reflex for you at this point to complain just for the sake of it.

Judging from the way you talk about him and the few times he’s seen you with the older guy, Seokmin has had his own share of close girl friends to know that you really do consider Jimin as a friend and nothing more.

“Did he at least tell you this time where you’re going?” He grins.

“Nope. This is the only thing he said.” You say as you show him your phone, a pout in your face.

[09:07] Jiminnie: lunch today.

[09:07] Jiminnie: i know none of u r busy, so.

[09:08] Jiminnie: will see u guys in the usual place at 2 &lt;3

Seokmin laughs at that, then shows you a meme Hansol sent to the group chat some time ago that reminds him exactly of the situation you’re in. After talking so much with Seokmin, you’ve realized that you share almost not one single interest with him. Your preferences in movies, music, or TV shows are all different, but you’ve found out that your humor code when it comes to memes are exactly the same that you’ve also started sending each other memes on Instagram.

The texting has become a routine too for you two. And while he doesn’t really see you a lot around campus because your faculty’s building is on the opposite side of the campus with his, he’d see you from time to time in the campus’ park, making your way somewhere.

If he’s to be completely honest, he’s been trying to find a good time to ask you out on a date. Yes, you’ve spent a lot of time together, just the two of you, but it has never felt like a date because it’s become a routine and Seokmin wants something special. 

Do you feel the same though?

What if you don’t? Will this scare you off?

No, you’re not that kind of person, he believes. If you’re not into him, you’d probably politely reject him and go on as usual. He doesn’t think you’re the type to ghost a friend just because of something like this.

The thought eases him a bit, but it still scares him a little. Perhaps he should start thinking about where to invite you first before asking you to go on a date.

“Something on your mind?” You offer him a comforting smile, one that makes his heart melt every single time.

He shakes his head though, telling you it’s nothing.

“Okay. Just know I’ll listen if you need someone, okay?”

His chest warms at your words, and a full smile blooms on his face as he nods and thanks you, his gaze piercing into yours.

“I’ll keep it in mind. But it’s really nothing, don’t worry.”

You hope Seokmin doesn’t notice the way your cheeks heat up at the way he’s looking at you. 

[✾✾✾]

“You’ve been hanging out with Seokmin a lot, haven’t you?” Jimin starts the moment all of your food are served in front of you, the waiter leaving your table barely a second ago.

“I told you I’ve been helping him study.” You try to play it cool, shrugging with nonchalance. Anyone else would believe your act, really, but these two know you too well to be fooled by your faux indifference.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you, but before he can say anything, Jennie cuts him off saying, “I think he’s friends with my cousin. A pretty close one, at that.”

“Oh? Is he cool? He seems nice the few times I’ve met him. A little too nice, to be honest, but he does seem the type.”

“I… don’t talk to my cousin enough to know.” She smiles sheepishly.

“Why did you even bring it up then…”

“Well, my cousin doesn’t really make friends because he’s quiet. And he’s pretty… uh, choosy when it comes to people he associates himself with, so I think it means something that they’re close.”

“Can we move on to the next topic?” You urge with an innocent smile. You don’t even know what you feel for him, really, but you know for sure you like hanging out with the guy and you’re more conscious of yourself when it comes to him. A part of you wants to keep on talking to him, and sometimes you find yourself wondering how would it feel like to just… go around campus with him by yourself. It’s such a small thing to wonder about, but even that itself is enough to make you bite back a smile.

“No. Not until you–”

“Jen?” A deep voice calls for her, and you’re about to thank whoever’s listening up there for the interruption only to freeze when you look up, because Seokmin is there, together with… whoever these people are.

“Oh, Wonwoo, hi.” She waves and greets everyone in his party, apparently familiar with all of them. You share a smile with Seokmin, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jimin. He grins to himself before standing up to greet a familiar face behind Wonwoo.

“Hansol, man! Been a long time.” He meets him in a half hug, nodding at Seokmin before turning to Wonwoo. “Hi! I’m Jimin. You’re Jennie’s cousin? Why don’t you join all of us here?”

Wonwoo looks at his friends, but none of them says anything so he shrugs and says ‘sure’. Asking the waiter to put the tables together, Wonwoo and Hansol go to order while Seokmin is left with Seungkwan at the table.

Naturally, Seokmin sits next to you and Seungkwan on his other side. Seungkwan introduces himself, and Jennie takes the role to introduce you and Jimin before the younger guy launches into different topics to find mutual grounds.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” Seokmin says lowly, his voice only for you to hear.

“I know right,” you murmur back, somewhat shy to be talking to him in front of your and his friends. You’re not embarrassed of him by any means, but there’s just something so embarrassing about being perceived together with him when you know Jimin already has ideas on his mind.

The feeling is pleasant, but you can’t help but turn bashful.

Your eyes meet Jimin’s, and when he raises an eyebrow just to mess with you, you glare at him in hope he’ll shut his mouth.

“So, Seokmin,” he starts, blatantly ignoring your pleading eyes. “You’ve been hanging out with our Y/N here a lot, yeah?”

“She’s been helping me study Professor Kim’s class. She’s really great at teaching, really.” He shrugs, unsure how else to address his current… situation with you. What was he supposed to say, anyway? That he’s currently looking into the right time and place to ask you on a date?

“She is, she is.” Jimin nods in agreement, chewing on his fries. “I think she mentioned his class wasn’t pleasant though. Something about people being nosy. Is it true?”

“Jimin.” You frown at him, not expecting him to take that route. You knew it still bothers him, but you thought he has let it go once you said you now have Seokmin with you in class. He’s always been protective when it comes to you and Jennie, and you had let it slip some time ago that you considered dropping Professor Kim’s classes because some people just wouldn’t shut their mouth while you’re just there to study.

“What? I just want to know if it’s true.”

Seokmin looks at the two of you, something in him breaks a little at the fact that, apparently, you know that there are people whispering about you.

“I’m…” He considers pretending not to know, but he doesn’t think that’d help and decides being honest would be best. “Yeah, I think so. That’s why I started sitting in front, actually.”

This is the first time you’re hearing this also, and the way you snap your neck to face him would be funny if not for the current topic and the atmosphere at hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It gets really annoying even for me.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. Because it’s really not. Sometimes he wishes he has it in him to talk to those girls and tell them to shut up, that they don’t have the rights to talk shit about people, that they’re being a nuisance and they should stop.

But he doesn’t. And he feels like a coward at times for being so soft-hearted.

Jimin hums and drops the topic though, seemingly satisfied for whatever reason. The topic moves to another one, though you don’t really join in because you’re not in the mood after the talk earlier.

Is that why Seokmin sat next to you at first?

You bite your lip as you collect your thoughts together, and when Seokmin nudges you and asks if you’re okay, you try to reassure him that you’re fine and thank him for asking. It’s almost an hour later that you’re outside to get some air, everyone’s finished eating, but they decide they want to talk some more so you excuse yourself out for a bit.

You don’t need to look up to know it’s Seokmin who’s followed you out, and you smile at him when you meet his eyes.

“You’re really okay?” He asks once again just in case.

“Mmm… Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Is that… really why you sat next to me that day?”

Seokmin doesn’t like that he’s not sure how to decipher your feelings. Are you upset? Are you thankful? Are you indifferent?

“Yeah. I noticed some people whispering and it irked me.” He admits softly, his eyes moving away from yours. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell them to shut up and stood up for you instead.”

“What? No, Seokmin, I want to thank you for even doing what you did.” You reach for his hand despite the loud beating in your chest, cheeks heating up once again when you feel him squeezing your hand. “And for sticking around after that. I didn’t expect anyone to do anything, actually. So what you did is more than enough.”

He squeezes your hand once again, then remembers something that Jimin said a while ago.

“You considered dropping the class because of it?”

“Yeah… I was thinking about dropping it that day, actually. But you sat next to me and… yeah.” You scrunch your nose adorably, looking down at your hand wrapped against his.

His face breaks into a smile at your words, and his thumb caresses your skin before he decides to just go fuck it right there.

“You want to go on a date with me?”

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

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[cyncerity]

Finally! The Store Shifter AU dad story!!

Holy shit this took so long, i’m still not fully satisfied with the ending but this story has been like genuinely over 5 months in the making so i’m leaving it as is. also this will need a part 2 so expect that hopefully in a shorter period of time than this one took!

guys this thing is like almost 5k words lol

tw vore: don’t like it don’t read it

“Bad, are you sure this is the best idea?” “Yes I’m sure, now be quiet, we’re almost there.”

Skeppy huffed, blowing a few loose strands of hair out of his face. Bad always got like this when they went on retrieval missions. The kind and funny (if not somewhat naïve) man he married buried beneath a stoic, focused outer shell. He couldn’t blame him, though. Humans were horrifying to be around, and if Bad felt like he needed to turn off everything to get them all out of there safely, so be it. Usually it was just the two of them, Skeppy and Bad against the world as it always seemed to be, but Sam was with them today. He’d been pretty silent through their walk, but Skeppy could sense the unease practically radiating off him. Sam was a builder, after all; he almost never went near humans. But, according to him, some homes in their colony had been damaged by storms and needed repair work that would be significantly easier with human tools.

So, here they were. Bad, Skeppy, and Sam, headed towards a human market. Skeppy had been fully opposed, but the hunt and crops had been poor at the colony, and their supplies likely wouldn’t be regrown until a few months from now if they were lucky. Bad suggested the human’s market, where he’d heard other borrowers say they’d seen humans come in with nothing and leave with bags full of god knows what. He was confident they’d be able to find the necessary rations there, and even if he was scared, he wouldn’t let Bad go to some human infested place without him. Then Sam had joined them and off they’d gone, promising the rest of the colony to be back in a day or two.

As they neared the market, Skeppy could see Bad tense. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed the slight crease of his brows, the minute shaking of his hands. That’s part of what made him a great leader for their colony; he was able to stay calm and collected no matter what. But having known him for so long, Skeppy could read him like an open book. He was scared. Sam, meanwhile, wasn’t even trying to hide it. He was quaking, clearly terrified of going into a space filled with creatures he knows could and likely would kill him if given the chance. Skeppy, honestly, was equally terrified. They almost never ventured this far into human society, and certainly never into human inhabited spaces. But, all for the good of the colony.

They approached the building and saw humans leaving the store, making Skeppy’s stomach turn in fear. He was sure that his fear was just as noticeable as Sam’s was, and he wasn’t sure how Bad was managing to keep his cool while him and Sam were panicking right next to him. But somehow, Bad pressed them forward, and they had little choice but to follow. They’d already made it this far, and like hell Skeppy was gonna back down and leave Bad to do this alone now.

They managed to get in the door right behind a human before scurrying back to the shadows for safety the second they entered the building, and holy shit was it bigger than he’d thought it was. There were dozens and dozens of rows one hundred times bigger than any one of them, even if they were small compared to the trees of the forest. “We’ll have to search from above,” Bad whispered quietly, breaking the unspoken vow of silence that the three had been following since nearing the shop. “Skeppy, lend me a rope. We can hoist each other up on each level.”

So, that they did. One of them would climb, then throw a rope for the other two to climb to meet them, only occasionally having to hide behind whatever human product was nearest to avoid being spotted. Thank god there weren’t as many humans in the place as he’d initially thought there would be. After a while, the three had made it to the top, overlooking pretty much the entire shop. Skeppy took note that most of the food they’d need was farther back in the store, unfortunately, but at least the platforms they stood on were close enough together that they could jump them. He also took note that a good number of humans were leaving, which was great for them, but also meant that night was likely coming soon, so they had to be fast. It wasn’t safe to travel the woods at night. Bad seemed to recognize this, as he gestured for Skeppy and Sam to follow him, leading them towards what they’d need. After a few more minutes of the three heading to the back, almost all the humans were gone except for a few in bright green vests. Skeppy reasoned that they were the ones who operated the place, if they all dressed the same and stayed when no one else did. But he wasn’t worried; what were the odds that the humans would look up to see them?

“Hey, Nick, you wanna head home early? You don’t look so good, I’m sure Dream wouldn’t mind.” Skeppy heard a human say. He knew it’d be best to stay back, but Skeppy was nothing if not stupidly impulsive. He leaned over the edge of the platform they’d been walking on, catching the attention of Bad and Sam too late to stop him. The human who had spoken was wearing a white sweater and gold chain with blonde hair and pale skin. He was talking to another human, “Nick” apparently, who was slumped over some boxes he was putting on a shelf, back turned to where the borrowers were. This one had a dark red hoodie and black beanie pulled over his head that almost matched the shade of his hair. The first human was right, though; if human body language read anything like a borrowers, this guy really wasn’t looking good. Nevertheless, he responded. “Hm? No, no, I’m fine, Punz, really.” He mumbled, barely looking up. The blonde one, “Punz,” didn’t look like he believed it for a second. “Bullshit. C’mere, let me take your temperature.” He said, pulling the other human to face him, and-

No.

No fucking way.

Skeppy could feel that Bad at this point had noticed his absence and had come over to drag him away from the conversation by force, but he shook himself free from his grip, eyes never leaving the scene in front of him. That was him. There’s no way it wasn’t. His hair was different, far different from the hazel brown he remembered, the same shade as his father’s, but it was him. He even had the discoloration around his eyes to prove it, the scar that had nicknamed him “Pandas” all those years ago. He looked older, much older, no longer the teen Skeppy remembered, and more tired. Worn down, even. He really did look sick.

Bad wasn’t letting go, and now Sam was trying to help him. Punz and Nick- no, Sapnap, he was sure of it- were still idly chatting below, Punz trying to convince Sapnap he needed to go and Sapnap insisting he was fine. At another insistent yank from Bad, Skeppy finally snapped, pulling away and grabbing Bad by the front of his hood, dragging his face close. “Bad,” he whispered as quietly as he could with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “it’s our son.”

He saw Bad’s eyes light up for a moment before fear masked his expression. He looked down at Sapnap, who was now sat alone, staring at the ground. Punz must’ve left at some point without him noticing. Bad sat in stunned silence, and for once Skeppy couldn’t read his expression. An expression he could read, however, was Sam’s. He looked an odd mix of confused and mortified. Skeppy was confused at the odd reaction before it hit him; Sam didn’t know Sapnap was a shifter. “That’s Sapna-mph?!“ “Shh!!” Sam whisper yelled before Skeppy slapped a hand over his mouth. “Ok, i don’t know what he’s doing here but yes, it has to be. He can…do this. I mean, he can look human. But he’s not! It’s…it’s a long story, dude.” “I- He..what?? Bad, you knew about this?” Sam whisper yelled again, quieter. “…Yes.” Bad took a moment to answer, like it pained him to admit out loud that the ‘human’ down there was his own son. “How can…how long has he-“ Sam cut himself off as Sapnap’s head snapped up, revealing that his eyes were almost black with how large his pupils were. He looked out of it entirely. He looked…predatory.

Bad gasped, stumbling back from the edge of the platform he’d been watching from and fell to the ground, clutching his chest, unable to control his ragged breathing. Skeppy and Sam were immediately right there beside him, Sam trying to lead him through breathing exercises as quietly as possible as Skeppy asked him what was wrong. After a few moments, Bad managed to choke out words. “We- we need…to go. We..we need t- to go now.” “Why? What’s going on?” Skeppy asked. Before Bad could give any semblance of an answer, they heard boxes be knocked over. To curious for his own good, Skeppy went to see what it was, and Sam and Bad reluctantly followed.

Sapnap was stood again, back turned to the three as he looked up at one of the shelves near him. And there stood- “Alex?” Skeppy heard Sam whisper, hope full in his voice. Skeppy had almost forgotten that the day Sapnap ran away was the last time Sam had seen his own son. Quackity looked older, too. His hair was longer and he looked more well nourished and muscular than the scrawny, scrappy little boy Skeppy had watched grow up. He also still wore his stupid little bandana and the face covering Karl had made him after he’d got that gash through his mouth. But even with that mask on, Skeppy noticed the confusion and pity in his eyes as he looked at his boyfriend.

“Sapnap?” Quackity asked, but there was no response. He kept looking for a little bit before sighing and looking around. What for, Skeppy didn’t know, but what he did find was them. Skeppy saw Quackity’s eyes go wide as he noticed the three, and he looked horrified. Sam stood and waved, moving to say something before Quackity violently charaded to keep quiet. He then started to shoo them, and Bad immediately took the hint and tried to pull the both of them away, but Skeppy and Sam held their ground. “Why?” Sam said just barely loud enough for Quackity to hear across the aisle, but also loud enough for Sapnap to notice apparently, as he started to turn around towards them. “Just go!!” Quackity screamed, drawing Sapnap’s attention back to himself as his head snapped back. Quackity took a step forward about to yell something else before time froze.

Faster than he could blink, Sapnap had reached up and roughly grabbed Quackity off the shelf, holding him to his face for a short moment before stuffing him in his mouth. He could hear muffled yelling, too distant to make out any words, and could see indents of Quackity pushing against Sapnap’s cheeks trying to fight his way out. Bad was silent, ghastly white and completely unmoving, not even breathing, which left Skeppy to turn his attention away from the scene in front of him to keep Sam quiet. He quickly and forcefully wrapped his arm around his mouth and pulled him back, using his other hand to push Sam’s head into the crook of his elbow to muffle him. Sam was yelling and screaming; clawing, kicking, doing anything just to make Skeppy to let him go, but he endured it. It was all he could do to not think too heavily into what he’d just seen. There was no way Sapnap would…eat him. He’d watched Quackity and Sapnap grow up together. Before Karl came along, it’d really just been the two of them. They were best friends from the start, and early in their teenage years, it turned to something more. Sapnap cared more about Quackity than himself, he knew that for a fact. There had to be something he was missing here, right?

All at once, Sam fell silent. The screaming, kicking, everything stopped. Everything but his crying; Skeppy could feel his sleeve growing wet with tears. Maybe this was a good sign. Maybe Sapnap had spit him out, maybe it was all a prank, a joke, anything. Sapnap was raised by him and Bad, after all. He’d seen his fair share of trolling from his fathers. Sapnap couldn’t do this, he and Bad hadn’t raised a monster. This wasn’t happening. Everything was ok.

As he looked up, the sight ahead of him said otherwise.

Sapnap had his head tilted up, one hand lightly pressed on something- no, someone in his throat, while the other was holding something just outside his mouth; a tail. Quackity’s tail. Quackity was moving under the pressure; squirming, thrashing even, under Sapnap’s skin, yet the expression on his son’s face read nothing but bliss. Skeppy could even swear he saw drool seeping out of the corners of his smile. He couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t stay here and stand to see the boy he had raised, had loved his entire life, kill someone that Skeppy had thought he’d watched him grow to love. But he couldn’t move. He stood frozen, tears welling in his eyes and his body cold from fear with Sam limp and silently sobbing in his arms. Sam, poor Sam, who sat here watching his son be eaten alive not only by his previous future son-in-law, by his own best friends’ son. Bad, who’d been so silent that Skeppy had nearly forgotten he was here, barely seemed to be breathing. His only signs of life were the tears pouring down his face and the violent shaking that wracked his entire frame. He looked so scared Skeppy was surprised he was still standing.

The three of them watched in silent horror as finally, after what felt like hours, Sapnap let go of Quackity’s tail. They watched his form fall farther and farther down Sapnap’s throat little by little until finally his struggles had disappeared beneath his lover’s collar bones, sealing his fate. Sapnap dropped his head and sighed, the blissful, at peace expression he wore making Skeppy sick. He watched Sapnap seemingly subconsciously trace a line down his torso, no doubt following where Quackity was within his body, until he finally placed a palm on his stomach. And if there was any doubt (which at this point could only be chalked up to wishful thinking) as to what fate Quackity had truly met, it had all been dispelled as the three heard horrible, violent gurgling sounds coming from Sapnap’s stomach. Sapnap covered his whole midsection with his arm, face tinged pink in apparent embarrassment as he whipped his head side to side to make sure no one was around. Luckily for the three of them, he still didn’t think to look up. He blinked a few times before looking down at where his arm laid for a few seconds and subsequently sighing, rolling his eyes (which Skeppy belatedly realized were back to normal instead of the horrifying all consuming black). He began rubbing his stomach as a few more gurgles were heard and he pulled a little thin black box from his apron, tapping it a few times before holding it to his ear.

A few seconds of silence later, Sapnap was speaking. “Hey, Dream! Did Punz tell you I was sick? He said he was going off to find you like 10 minutes ago.” More silence. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine now. I think I just needed something to eat, if you know what I mean.” Skeppy’s heart skipped a beat hearing Sapnap so nonchalantly refer to his own species, to someone he loved, as food. “I’m just gonna go on break now if that’s ok. Could you meet me by the security office? I need you to help me, uh…get rid of something.” Another break. “Ok, sounds good, I’ll meet you then. Bye.” He said, tapping the black box again before slipping it back into a pocket and moving to leave the aisle. At that, Skeppy decided it was far past time to go. He went to grab Bad before realizing that he was fully unconscious, likely having passed out from fear. Sam, on the other hand, lay sobbing. Skeppy could do nothing but try to drag him to away, but ultimately failed. “Sam,” Skeppy whispered, voice cracking through tears and shivering, “We…we have to go.” “I failed.” he responded, not bothering to whisper since Sapnap was gone. “I failed as a father. I couldn’t save him. I- I couldn’t save them. Either of them.” He chocked out, tears pouring harder. Skeppy stood shocked; Sam rarely mentioned his other son anymore. It’d been so, so long since he’s been around that Skeppy (as much as it pained him to admit it to himself) had almost forgotten he existed completely. And didn’t that just make this all the more sad; Sam didn’t deserve to lose another kid. He didn’t deserve to have these old scars ripped back open again. “You couldn’t have known.” Skeppy said, sitting down beside him. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. I…I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Sam.”

Skeppy wasn’t sure why he felt the need to apologize, but in some way, this felt like his fault. Sapnap was his son. What had he done wrong? How long had Sapnap been planning to do this? What would Karl say if he saw this? Is Karl even still alive, or did Sapnap get to him first? How were they gonna tell Tina that her younger brother got killed by his fiancé, of all people?

Skeppy was only snapped out of it when a hand rested on his own, and he turned to see Sam looking at him. His tear-stained expression held no anger, no contempt for the man who had raised the person to have just killed his son, just…pity and sadness. Sam didn’t hate him. Sam felt…sorry for him. Sorry that his son had turned out like this after so many years being away from home. Sorry that the boy who they’d both loved growing up was gone, twisted into a psychopath and cannibal. In a way, they’d both lost their kids today. Skeppy couldn’t do anything but break down, clinging to Sam and sobbing as he finally processed everything that he’d seen today. Sam just hugged back tightly, like Skeppy was his only lifeline, and sobbed with him.

“We should get going.” Sam sighed after what felt like hours. “We need to help Bad, and I’m sure the others are wondering why we’re not back yet.” Skeppy, still numb, just nodded and helped sling one of Bad’s unconscious arms over his shoulder while Sam took another. The walk back to where they had come from was silent, neither of them willing to bring up the fact that they hadn’t actually retrieved any supplies and the whole trip was kinda pointless, but were met with a sight that neither had been expecting.

The doors were tied shut with chains. They couldn’t get out.

They were stuck there till morning.

~~~~~

Sapnap sat in the break room fiddling with his phone when he saw Dream come in, twirling a set of keys on his finger. “You said you needed access to the security room?” “‘Bout time.” Sapnap responded sarcastically, standing up off the beanbag chair with a hand over his stomach to keep the extra weight in his gut from swaying as he moved. Seriously, no matter how many times or how often he’d done this, he was never going to get used to it, was he? “Sorry I needed to lock up the store, asshole.” Dream replied, leading him out of the room to the security office down the hall. “Ranboo is staying at my place tonight so Tom and Tubbo aren’t alone, so I had to lock up from inside today cause someone invited me to stay the night to work on parkour stuff.” “Don’t pin this on me, I’m being nice to you for once.” Sapnap replied, lightly elbowing Dream as he tried to unlock the door and messing him up. Dream flipped him off without even moving his vision away from the lock before getting back to work. “Are you at the security office yet?” Quackity asked, startling Sapnap which in turn startled Dream, who gave him an odd look. Sapnap just pointed to his stomach and Dream rolled his eyes and went back to work on the lock.

“Yeah, we are. Holy shit, dude, you scared the fuck outta me, I thought you were asleep. You haven’t said anything like this entire time.” “I couldn’t fall asleep. Something…something happened, man.” “…Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all. What kinda something? Something bad?? Are you ok, did I do something?” “I’m fine!” Quackity quickly responded, picking up on his fiancé’s nervous tone. “It’s just…well I don’t know yet. You’ll be able to see for yourself on the video camera. I don’t want to freak you out if it’s nothing.” Sapnap went to ask what that meant before Dream finally managed to open the door with a little cheer of celebration. He ushered Sapnap in as he started to log into the camera’s system.

“Ok, so can you tell me what happened?” Dream questioned. “It’s been a while since I did the instinct thing, so I guess I looked kinda sickly, so Punz ran to get you. After that I started to feel nauseous and sat down and passed out. When I woke up again, Quackity was in here and I felt a lot better. I think my instincts just fully took over so I wasn’t conscious, like, at all. I figured I would see what exactly happened and then delete the footage so no one else could see me lose it.” Dream nodded. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you meant by ‘needed something to eat.’ Kinda also figured that instincts had something to do with why Punz said you looked sick, so I asked Quackity to go and look for you.” Sapnap vaguely heard Quackity confirm what Dream had said. “Oh, thanks dude.” “No problem. Now, where and when was this again?”

Sapnap gave a few more specifications on what had happened, and at this point he could feel Quackity nervously pacing in his gut, which felt…weird, to say the least. “Quackity, dude, are you ok? You never move this much in there, it’s kinda freaking me out. And it feels weird.” “Sorry.” He heard as he felt Quackity drop back down to sit, almost immediately starting to tap his foot. “You’re nervous about something.” “No I’m-“ “You’re sitting with your eye sockets pressed into your knees while tapping your foot. I’ve known you my entire life, I don’t need to be able to see you to know what you’re doing. You only do that when you’re really anxious, what’s up?” “Like I said, you’ll see on the video.” Sapnap was about to respond again, but was agin cut off by Dream. “Found it! Oh shit, yeah, you look really out of it, I’m surprised you made it as long as y- what the fuck is that??” That bit caught Sapnap’s attention. He moved closer to the tv and noticed what Dream was questioning: on the grainy monitor, there were 3 small silhouettes on top of an aisle in front of Sapnap. “Are those…borrowers?” Dream asked, looking over to Sapnap. “They have to be. What the hell are more borrowers doing in the store? Q, is this what you were worried about?” “…Mostly.” Quackity responded, and Sapnap nodded to Dream so he could follow along. “…fast forward, see if you can tell when they leave.” Sapnap relayed the request to Dream, who did as he asked.

“Oh no…” Sapnap whispered. “What?” Dream asked, but Quackity was apparently more than aware of the issue. “They didn’t listen, did they? They didn’t go when I told them too?” “No, no they didn’t…” Sapnap whispered again, in shock. He felt Quackity stand and start to pace again, but this time couldn’t care to correct it. “What? Who didn’t what?” Dream asked. “The borrowers on the aisle. Quackity was signaling for them to leave so they wouldn’t see me do..that, but they didn’t. They’re seeing everything.” Sapnap gestured back up to the screen, where at this point he could see Quackity entering his throat and the borrowers backing up, one even kicking and fighting another to do something. “Well…thats not good, but it can’t be that bad, right? I mean, what are the odds you’ll ever see them again? I mean, sure they can tell a colony about a human that ate a borrower, but you guys have always kinda been under the impression we did that anyway, right? At the absolute worst, they’ll have another horror story to get kids to bed on time.” “Dream, I just traumatized 3 random borrowers for life.” “I was under the impression you were all just kinda traumatized from shit in general, is this really that much worse?” “Sapnap, tell him to shut up.” Quackity interrupted. Sapnap obliged by smacking a hand over Dream’s mouth and putting a finger over his own lips. “…I need you to let me out.” Sapnap looked confused for a moment. Quackity had only been in there for a few hours; normally when this happened he would just stay the night since it was more of a hassle to get dry and clean just to put on pjs. Something was wrong, still, Sapnap would never hold the man he loved against his will.

Sapnap quickly brought him up, placing a hand under his mouth as Quackity climbed out. Quackity’s head snapped immediately to the security footage. At this point, Sapnap could see himself finally swallow Quackity down, and the 3 borrowers react accordingly with varying levels or fear and distress. One of them even went unconscious. Quackity watched with a look of worry that made Sapnap anxious; in all the years he’d known Quackity, he’d never seen him like this. Why was he this worried? He barely registered that in the video he had regained control, only focused on what could have caused the fear in his fiancé’s eyes.

Until one of the borrowers turned enough for their face to be seen in the camera.

That…that was his dad. That was Skeppy, holding onto someone who had to be Sam. His other dad was taller than that. That means that the last one, the borrower who’d passed out when Sapnap had swallowed Quackity was…

Sapnap felt his breath speed up. He quickly set Quackity down on the desk as he clutched a hand to his chest and his vision started to blur. “Sap?” Dream questioned, hands hovering around him in concern, “Sapnap are you ok??” “That’s…Those are…” He couldn’t get the words out. Fuck. No, fuck, god no, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go, they weren’t supposed to know, they weren’t supposed to ever see him again but now they knew everything.

They knew he was a monster.

“…those are our dads.” Quackity whispered, barely audible as dreams eyes widened. “The one crying is my dad, the other two are Sapnap’s.”

[lineffability]

style, flair, and a head of red hair – she’s the nanny?!

oneshot. 5k. human au. the story of how crowley becomes a nanny. no, not that one. the other one. the fine type. this fic was inspired by @densewentz and this stunning piece of The Nanny/Crowley art that blew my socks clean off. i had to write it.

She is entirely perfect and utterly boring.

Aziraphale Edenson, ever the picture of perfect pleasantry, has recited three consecutive poems in his mind while she's been speaking, and he could almost swear one of them had been the entirety of Ginsburg's Howl. He can't be certain, as he's drifted. In front of him, the Mary Poppins palimpsest is finishing her impassioned speech that had begun somewhere in her childhood only to end, in a satisfying narrative conclusion, he is sure, in the childhood of Warlock, his unexpected teenage protegé, and somehow between those two childhoods she had also wedged in his, Aziraphale's, childhood too, though he isn't sure quite how that is possible. It seems she has done her research rather thoroughly. 

It is not polite to interrupt people, so Aziraphale does not. He smiles, he nods at the right moments, and he offers more tea, and then he ushers her to the front door with perfect manners only to say, in one last moment of mental impasse, "Well, thank you so very much, Mrs Poppins, I will be sure to contact you by the end of the week. It has been so very lovely to meet you."

It only occurs to him half an hour later why her smile had faltered, and he smacks his hand to his forehead, producing a noise that sounds very much like oh, bugger. 

A string of interviews follow this initial one, and after a fortnight, Aziraphale gives up. It’s not that the applicants are unsuited: rather the opposite, their credentials battle each other for excellence: if one has twenty years of experience in royal nanny service, the next will present a doctoral degree in Nannyology straight from Harvard. After all, Villa Eden is not only a beautiful and prestigious estate in the nicest part of London, but he offers a pay check that the best paid nanny in the world might have envied, promptly losing her her title. An honest wage for honest work, he thinks, and he certainly does not know what to do with a twelve year old boy. So if someone does, money shall not be the issue. 

The thing is: hiring a nanny is… it’s like selling books. Aziraphale is selfish. Aziraphale does not want to hire a nanny. He does not want to share his space, his routines, his library, his home. He can do it for Warlock, for a few months, because it is the right thing to do. He does not love it. But he likes the kid enough. Especially because his parents… well, they don’t. Not properly, not like they should, and that is enough for Aziraphale to feel a bristling sense of injustice, and a burning desire to bestow the boy with a love that might not live up to the parental ideal, but make him feel safe and liked and cared for, at least. 

So maybe he has to hire the Mary Poppins nanny, after all, to help him realize his wish, to support him in his quest, to breach the friendly but unbreachable rift between the old, reclusive neighbor and the bright, young boy that has been parked here by his parents, like a pet, while they are away for travel for half a year. Aziraphale huffs. 

He stares out the window of his conservatory, but can’t make out the expanse of his glorious estate. That’s because it is cloudy and gray and rainy and grim, and also winter, which might have something to do with it. Darkness has settled over the hill and his mansion like a heavy blanket. His clock chimed five not a minute ago, and yet it is already pitch-dark. Aziraphale likes winter. It grants you more alone time that needs not be justified as much as during other seasons. The weather today suits his mood. With a grim face, he makes up his mind to hire the nanny. 

In a dramatic last minute coincidence not at all necessitated by the narrative, the doorbell rings precisely in the moment Aziraphale starts to dial the number on the resumé.  

Aziraphale puts the receiver back down. He walks to the main entrance. 

(He does not believe in servants: for the same reason that he does not believe in nannies.)

When he opens the door, it takes him a moment to make sense of the picture of personified misery he is presented with. 

“Cosmetics,” the picture of misery says. 

“Excuse me?”

[continue reading]

[theladyragnell]

May we have blossoming romance writing prompt #26 with our Leverage OT3 (or Killjoys Johnny and Dutch but that’d be like… blossoming platonic deep affection for me I guess? I can’t recall if you Go There, but if you do that’s also cool.) ?

Thank you!

(Because I've got a bunch of other Leverage prompts, I went with Dutch & Johnny, defaulting to platonic since they're a Schrodinger ship for me! Set sometime in the time between "Warrior Princess Bride" and the premiere, because the little thread about Dutch's very bad pottery skills always charmed me.)

They’re both the kind of people who got sick of anyone and everyone, no matter how much they like each other, if they don’t get a break once in a while, or at least that’s what Johnny tells himself.

Fact of the matter is, Johnny met Lucy, met Dutch, and figured early on they were the most interesting people he’d ever be likely to meet, and he hasn’t wanted to let them out of his sight since, because then he might miss something fun. But he gets that he is the kind of person people get sick of, so when they finish a nice satisfying level three job for a decent amount of joy and Dutch says she wants to cut loose on Leith for a few days, he waves her off and hitches a ride out to Utopia.

Dutch says Utopia is for nerds, and it kind of is, but it’s for the kind of nerds who always have something fun going on, so Johnny gets to snoop for a few days and pick up some software upgrades for Lucy to try and also picks a few people up for a night of fun, which is good for his ego. Most people don’t focus on him much with Dutch around, but he’s a pretty hot commodity. Especially among nerds, who think he’s edgy and dangerous and badass because he’s a killjoy.

When he gets back, Dutch unsubtly checks him for holes because she has no faith in him at all and lets him regale her with the stories. Except the part with the sleeping with people, they tend to stay out of each other’s bedroom lives because they both get judgy about it with each other. Still, she lets him go on for a while, and see, he was right, he’s a lot easier to handle with the occasional break.

“How about you?” he invites when he runs out of steam and Dutch has led him out to the kitchen to start figuring out which meal pack they are going to warm up for dinner. “Any feats of derring-do without me? I figured it was even odds that Joe might track you down, he likes you so much more than me.”

“No, apparently Turin asked him to keep an eye on some new hotshot who just got to level four. Something Lee. I was having a quiet actual vacation.” She coughs and makes herself busy making some kind of non-alcoholic drink, which is pretty rare in their kitchen when they’ve been awake for more than an hour, but maybe her vacation made her feel all cozy or something. “Got my hands dirty and everything.”

“Gross,” says Johnny, mostly to make her roll her eyes at him, which she obligingly does. “Come on, you’ve got to have more stories than just getting your hands dirty, which could mean everything from farming to homicide with you, you’re disgustingly good at everything.”

“Well, not everything,” she replies, and puts the worst cup he’s ever held into his hands.

Johnny lifts it to stare at it and it nearly slops liquid all over his hand three times because the rim is uneven. The bottom is uneven too, and the whole thing is lopsided and strange, and the handle was apparently designed by someone who is branching out from weird illegal torture devices. The cheerful blue glaze makes the whole thing even weirder. “Wait, you made this? How? Why? Were you perhaps four years old at the time?”

Dutch scowls and turns back to the sink. There’s a second mug. It is somehow even worse. It’s like if a communications glitch was made into a piece of pottery. “I took a pottery course on Leith, okay? It sounded like fun. It was fun! The teacher said I’ll get better next time.”

“Next time?” John asks, and quails when she glowers at him again. “No, sure, absolutely! And aww, Duchess, that’s adorable, you gave me one of your first two pieces of pottery? I’ll treasure it forever.” And have to learn a whole new way of drinking, probably. For something that is technically watertight, it is so badly made in every possible way.

“I wanted you to have something. We don’t really do a lot of home comforts here. I thought some handmade pottery might be the ticket. And I know you like blue.”

Home and comfort have never really gone together, for the Jaqobis family. Life as a killjoy is as luxurious as things have ever been for him, which means that once they’ve made enough to fuel up Lucy and feed themselves and buy hokk, there’s money left over for fun or for making their equipment better. But Duchess isn’t just a nickname, and Queenie wasn’t either. Dutch spent a long time with things like silk clothes and handmade pottery and comfortable blankets. Doesn’t mean her childhood was any happier than his, he’s figured that much out in the time they’ve been together, but it does mean she could worry about things like being really good at playing instruments and killing people instead of where her next meal was coming from or if her brother was getting himself killed. If she wants some of that back, he’s not going to stop her, and it means a lot that she included him in that to the point of remembering his favorite color. “Well, I appreciate the thought, and I’ll use it every day,” he promises.

She ducks her head. “You don’t have to.”

“Come on, obviously I do. Do you know how often people have made me anything by hand? Pretty much never.” And the “pretty much” is only because D’avin carved him a toy for his birthday one year, but D’avin is one of those things he really really does not talk about with Dutch. It sucks that Dutch’s cup is so bad, but also he’s pretty much never going to drink out of another cup again, he’s pretty sure. At least not when she’s around. “Thanks, Dutch. I’m honored you thought of me on your vacation.”

“I wanted to give you something,” she says, and lifting her own drink, immediately pours half of it down her shirt. “Fuck!”

Johnny laughs and gets a towel out of the drawer, tossing it to her so she can mop up. “Well, you sure did that. Maybe next time you’ll perfect the rim technology.”

“I can still take it back,” she threatens, something she’ll absolutely never do, and Johnny gives her his most shit-eating grin and makes a show out of taking a sip.

It only spills a little.

[whatwouldsylwrite]

hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt4

pt3, pt3.5

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, reader is into sexy/girly dances, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov

Notes: swearing, kissing, kind of smutty? They get worked up and it's described explicitly, but nothing really happens. So if you don't want to read it, stop reading after King Princess is mentioned and scroll down to the very end. Gossiping, because that's a fundamental female bonding experience and if you think Abby doesn't like gossip you're wrong. 

I fucking forgot the phrase "dance studio" for the past three chapters. So I changed it here and maybe will edit it in previous chapters, just a heads-up. 

Also I’m a dance nerd (duh), so I added some links to the choreos reader is dancing. Let me know if it's uncomfortable to read now. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

This evening Abby felt restless, like something was keeping her from doing anything. She couldn't concentrate long enough, switching between things - the pile of dishes was abandoned after the third cup, her homework was opened on her laptop but only finished halfway. She was bored out of her mind.

It's been a week since the party, and you've been texting each other every day: either it was a funny tiktok or complaining about classes or asking advice on the outfits (definitely not thirst traps from both of you, no) or heads-up about any changes on campus. Abby texted you first to find out if you got home safely, and after that it just snowballed into 5am drunk conversation and this conversation never stopped. Abby found you were easy to talk to and you didn't get angry or upset when she didn't reply for a long time. But during this week you both were so busy you weren't able to meet up even in the university centre - Jesse needed a change in schedule due to his job, and now the hockey team had practice at a different time.

Maybe that was why Abby felt so restless? She just missed you?

Well, Abby knew only one way to get some energy out (two, technically, but her head was filled with you, so she'd probably get even more frustrated from not seeing you), so she picked up her gym bag and went to the gym. 

Somehow lifting weights got her mind in order: she needed to concentrate on her technique, but she didn't have to think any big smart thoughts, her head half-empty, Ramones screaming in her ears. Abby felt satisfied with her workout, so she took a photo in the mirror and sent it to you. You didn't answer right away, so Abby put her phone away and went to hit the showers, pretending she wasn't waiting for your reply.

The hot water helped her relax, and Abby left the shower feeling refreshed and pleasantly tired with an ache in her muscles. She changed and checked her phone - still no answer from you. Abby sat her phone aside and started packing her things when she heard music.

Locker rooms were next to the dance studio - that was one of the reasons why the hockey team had to go past the dance studio in order to enter the rink. (It was highly inefficient, but the whole building was built just to torture everyone - even the door to the dance studio was always open because the ventilation was absolute shit.)

Could it mean?...

Abby recognised the song - it was one of your more cute than sexy routines, and it meant you were here.

Abby's heartbeat picked up and she felt nervous - she hadn't seen you for a week and she wasn't emotionally prepared to see you dancing.

But Abby really wanted to see you. So she packed her things, checked if she looked good, grabbed her bag and went to the dance studio.

The thing was: the cultural studies paper was fucking insufferable. It was stressing you out, and when something was stressing you out, you did what did best - you avoided it. So after avoiding your laptop like it was infected, you decided to avoid your apartment altogether and go work on a new routine. That old Billie Eilish song you had a creative block on? Forget it, the choreo just came to you in an hour. 

So you took a key to the dance studio, threw your bag on the floor and got to work. You saw the notification from Abby, but you assumed it was a meme so you decided to answer later (preferably already in bed).

You needed to warm up first and the Twit was next in the queue, so you let it play. The choreo wasn't too complicated and you purposely avoided some of the parts, so it should work as a warmup. 

♪Twit twit twit twit

I don't like it

Nobody likes it♪

You started moving your shoulders in small cute up-and-downs and then moved on to your steps: the whole choreography was bouncy and wavy and kinda jumpy, but you liked that it was playful and worked so well when the moves were not exhausting or demanding, but even simple? It didn't take long to learn this dance. 

The part you liked the most was closer to an end, just before the final sequence, when you could just jump around and twirl and shake your ass all you want without playing a role. 

The song ended and the next song started to play and you rushed to turn it off (slumber party, uncensored, you'd die before letting it play through the whole centre). The first line played, but then music stopped and you sighed in relief.

"Do you have a dance for it too?" 

You jumped, embarrassed, and turned to Abby who was standing in the door frame, smiling. She was dressed in a hoodie that looked super comfy and black joggers, her hair was tied in a bun, still wet. She clearly saw your panic and now was having fun at your misery. 

But you saw her and you didn't care - all you wanted was to get closer, so you stood up and went up to her, smiling bashfully. 

"I want to do one, but this song is not suitable for a big audience." You said and you stood as close to Abby as it was appropriate, enjoying the way she was taller than you, making you feel like- like a lady. 

"It has a clean version." Abby smiled as she put your hair away from your face. "Hi."

"Hi." You giggled, unable to look away from Abby's face. God she was so fucking pretty. "I didn't know you were here."

"I was at the gym. I sent you a picture." 

"Oh shit. I haven't seen it yet." 

You ran to grab your phone and opened your dms, just to choke on air: Abby was so hot and so- so- damn there wasn't a word to describe what was happening to you. It felt like your insides rearranged just from looking at this photo. 

You looked up at Abby, as she unashamedly enjoyed your reaction.

"Fuck you." You laughed as Abby tilted her head bashfully. "It's unfair."

"Seems fair to me." She grinned playfully. 

"Um. Do you want to stay? I just came, and I wanted to work on my new routine, but-" I'll do anything if you stay. "I can dance something for you? Like the hockey guys list, but Abby list."

Abby's brain stopped functioning. To stay here alone with you and watch you dance what she wanted you to dance? Fuck. Fuck. 

It meant watching all your arches, spins, shakes directly, not like Abby was used to, watching you from the side or through the mirror. She knew she was setting herself up with the sweetest torture, the biggest tease, but-

"Yeah, sure." 

Abby put her bag on the floor and went closer to you, while you were looking for your dancing playlist. 

"Obviously, if you wanna see some of Ellie's routines, I can, but it won't be as good as if it was her."

"Why?"

"I don't have the body type. It looks funny." 

"No, you look amazing when you dance." Abby said, and you turned to her, your faces too close but not close enough. Abby looked at your lips, thinking if it would be a right thing to do, to kiss you now.

"You like my dancing?"

"Are you serious, (y/n)?" Abby wasn't entirely sure if it was a genuine question or if you were flirting. "You're the only reason I come here after practice."

You blushed adorably and Abby couldn't resist anymore. She cupped your face and kissed you, sweet and gentle, careful not to turn it into something more heated. She just wanted to feel you in her hands, to hold you like something precious, just because she fucking missed you. 

You pulled away with a small smile, and something in Abby melted when you held her face with your fingertips, all sweet and light.

“I just thought you came here for Ellie.” You murmured, smiling and not moving away. 

“I did the first time, because she deserves to be made fun of for her crush on Dina.” Abby rolled her eyes and you giggled.

“I mean, she did make a whole duet routine with that Dove Cameron song just for her and Dina, so I’m not defending her.”

“She did what?” Abby couldn’t believe what she just heard. What was wrong with Williams? “O my god.” Abby full on facepalmed, feeling second-hand embarrassment. Ellie really embraced "I'm cringe but I'm free" mindset when it came to her crushes.

“Yeah, I think she tried to show Dina she was better than Jesse? To be fair, it did work.” 

“What?” Was Abby living under a fucking rock? How did she miss all of this? “What happened?”

“I don’t know what exactly happened, but she broke up with Jesse like, two weeks ago. And he’s not handling it well, that’s why your schedule changed, he doesn’t want to see Dina.”

“WHAT?” Now this shit was getting ridiculous. Jesse didn’t tell anyone! “The fuck? He said his boss asked him to work different shifts!”

“What? No, he lied. He literally told Dina he couldn’t see her with Ellie and he needed a break or something.”

“Motherfucker. It’s not like their relationship was going anywhere, just get over it.” 

“Right? They were already breaking up like they had a schedule, it wouldn’t have worked anyway.” You paused as you went through your playlist. “Okay, what do you want me to dance?”

Abby blinked. She had a feeling it was a trick question, and she also couldn’t remember the names to any songs that weren’t super popular.

“Which one is your favourite?” 

“It’s hard. Let’s just see what is going to play if I feel like it - or if you like it - I’ll do it.”

“Isn’t it 'Slumber Party' right now?” Abby smirked and watched how you blushed. 

“I can find a clean version and just improvise if you want.” You said, now clearly being coy. 

"The clean version is lame." 

You laughed and started going through your playlist. Abby recognised most of them, and if she liked pain, she'd have stopped you on some of them, but she still thought she could survive this. 

You wanted to dance something that Abby would like, so you tried to pick something you didn't make a lot of mistakes in. You were nervous and you didn't really know how to dance for her. Would she like a whole performance or would she like to become one with a mirror like she wasn't there?

"Do you want me to dance at you or at the mirror? Some people are not comfortable when we interact with them during performance." 

Abby looked at you, taking a pause, and you got nervous if you asked something weird.

"At me, please." Abby smirked and you blushed again. 

"Still no requests?" You stood up with your phone, getting ready to dance. You chose a routine, but still waited for Abby.

"I'm thinking about it."

"Okay, you think and I'll dance. Sit." You pointed on the floor right in front of the mirror, meaning: right in front of you. Abby sat on the floor, legs crossed, and you got ready.

The music started playing and you started moving, smooth and seductive, and Abby had to hold into her hoodie otherwise she'd just grab you. And then you were lying on your back, looking up at her with big innocent eyes that was obviously an act and Abby felt her stomach tighten up in arousal. The music carried on but the routine ended, so you've stopped dancing, breathing heavily. 

"Did you like it?" You asked, eager to hear her opinion. Abby unfroze and looked at your happy face.

"Yeah, it was very cool." Abby needed to save herself before she needed to change her pants. "Can you do Say So next?"

That was an extremely tactical decision: that choreo wasn't too sexual and Abby really needed a breather after that. You agreed and while you were looking for it, Abby tried to calm down. She needed to keep it in her pants. 

"You know, I actually really like Say So choreo." You showed a sequence where your hands go up your body but stop at a beat a few times as you move. "So easy but looks so good."

The casual show of how well you can control your body and your movements reminded Abby how skilled you were in the area she was a total zero, and she felt her heart swell with affection and pride that she got to touch someone as talented as you were. 

You've danced a few more routines, some sexy some not, and you enjoyed how intently Abby watched you, her eyes following your every move, every arch and every hand. You've made a few mistakes in some of them, but it didn't seem that Abby even noticed, her wide eyes on you, unblinking. It was cute and made you feel powerful: it was your body that made her all glossy eyed, and she was only looking. She visibly tried to stay serious, but she forgot about it a few seconds into the next dance.

And then you had a naughty, naughty thought. A year or so ago you made a choreo for Holy by King Princess, and it wasn't super explicit, but it was something that fitted into the situation right now. So you stopped music for a second, trying to remember how it went without spoiling anything for Abby.

"I think you'll like this one. Especially when I remember the whole dance." You winked. 

Abby laughed quietly and waited, watching you doing the "I'm remembering choreo just by moving my hands like a T-Rex" thing. 

When you've felt confident enough, you turned the music on and started dancing, a little lazy but sharp on specific beats, keeping Abby's attention. The verse was easy, but you were waiting for a different part. 

♪Honey, on your knees♪ - You pointed your finger towards the floor, showing Abby her place in this performance and looking just the right side of mean - ♪when you look at me♪ - you pointed back at your face, holding eye contact with Abby, enjoying her big glossy eyes.

♪I'm dressed like a fucking queen♪ - you moved your hands down your body, showing your curves, and slowly went down for a wide squat that flawlessly turned into you standing on your knees just in front of Abby, as you held your hands like a prayer, looking up and arching your back - ♪and you're begging please♪ 

♪Holy♪

You looked down at Abby, and something snapped. Abby could not not touch you, especially since you were so close, just in an arm reach. So before you could move away, she grabbed you by your waist and pulled you down in her lap, kissing you wet and raw, feeling your body, kneading your flesh like it was her last chance to touch you. God you got her worked up. Abby didn't move her hands down to your butt but she wanted to, fuck she wanted to. So she pulled away, desperate to get your permission.

"Can I?" Abby asked, panting, not moving away from your sweet mouth. She moved her hand just shy of your butt as she watched you blush, absolutely starving for you. "Please."

"Yeah." You whispered and kissed her again, clinging to her soft hoodie, to her shoulders as if she could just disappear under your fingers.

That was all Abby needed. She grabbed your butt, pulling you so close you felt her lower stomach pressing between your legs, practically lifting you up, her hands kneading your butt. You moved closer to Abby, chest to chest, feeling her boobs against yours as you sighed into her mouth, so aroused her one touch could explode you right now, your underwear completely soaked. 

Abby pulled away and put her lips on your neck, kissing and licking your skin, not even caring you were all sweaty after dancing. You sighed, surprised, and Abby's ears tuned to your noises, hyper aware of your every breath as she nipped at your neck, every sound resonating with her own body, going straight to her crotch. 

"Fuck you drive me crazy." Abby whispered in your neck as she kissed your collarbones. "Just fucking marry me."

You laughed silently, but your laugh was interrupted by your sharp inhale when Abby scraped her teeth over your skin, sending a thrill through your body. 

"I'm not getting married at 21, Abby." You took her face in your hands and looked at her, adoring her. "You're so pretty."

"Go on a date with me." 

You blushed and Abby groaned inside: how the fuck this is what was getting you shy, not the makeout session you too just had?

"You make me feel like a lady, Abby." You rubbed your nose against hers and she suddenly hugged you, making you yelp.

"Shit you're so fucking cute." You giggled and hugged her back, basically crushing her head with your chest. 

Abby sighed, content. She could die a happy woman now.

[vaguekayla]

Dancing With Your Ghost • Eddie Munson

a/n: oh god, I haven’t actually written anything in years and the first thing I decide to tackle is Eddie Munson. I must be a glutton for punishment or something. Inspired by Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Alex Sloan. Dedicated to @buckysdollforlife because we are constantly sharing stories with each other so I thought why not share one of my own. Especially since you’re the biggest Eddie fan I know. Also dedicated to @luveline because June Baby melts my heart and gave me the Eddie bug. Seriously go check out her work. Pretty sure I gave myself more trauma with this shit, but whatever. They say in order to create art, you must be willing to bleed.

Updated author’s note: I wrote this almost two years ago completely forgot about it then remembered it only for my self doubt to keep me from posting, but here we are!

Summary: You grieve the loss of your boyfriend, Eddie Munson.

Trigger Warning: angst, character death, slight spoilers for season four maybe. (Let me know if I should add any others.) Not proofread.

Meeting Eddie Munson was something of a coincidence. It wasn’t planned nor was it something you ever contemplated.

The metalhead would one day tell you that he believed the two of you meeting was destiny.

By some happen stance, Dustin needed a ride from a Dungeons and Dragons campaign one night and though he had asked Steve, somehow it ended up being you to pick him up.

It wasn’t anything special about meeting Eddie that night. It was a pretty normal evening.

You were a little late picking up Dustin because it was such a sudden change of plans, so Eddie had waited outside the school with him until you got there.

Dustin introduced you to one another and you both exchanged a few words, but nothing worthy enough to take note of.

Your next ‘meeting’ of sorts is what really made you capture Eddie’s attention.

You really hadn’t planned on coming to Hawkins High on your lunch break just because Dustin forgot his English textbook. What could you say though? You’d grown attached to the kid in the last few years. Him and his friends.

You’d always help them out when they asked. Even when it was something as stupid as a forgotten schoolbook.

But this made three times this week.

After stopping by the office, you’d started to make your way to the cafeteria. You had graduated just last year, so it’s not like you didn’t know where everything was. The cafeteria was loud, not surprising, and you thanked every god you could think of that you were done with this hellhole.

Finding Dustin was easy. His curly hair was unmistakable and his laugh just called for attention.

Whatever he was saying to the group he ate lunch with was cut off by the slam of his textbook as you dropped it front of him over his head.

“You forget that thing any more this week, I’m gonna start charging a delivery fee,” your voice rang out behind him.

There was a teasing lilt to your words, but it didn’t erase the sheepish smile Dustin flashed your way as he turned to look at you.

“Sorry. I’ve just been super excited about this campaign that Eddie’s been telling us about all week and I keep forgetting to grab it. It won’t happen again,” the teen rushed out his apology.

He looked around at Lucas and Mike to back him up, all three rapidly nodding their heads to try and convince you.

You fondly rolled your eyes because you knew it would indeed happen again, but you didn’t really mind.

“So, you’re the reason I’ve been missing my lunch breaks all week, Munson?” an eyebrow rose in the direction of the group leader.

“What? No. I’m not responsible for—”

Eddie cut himself off as he noticed the amused look on your face, letting him know you weren’t actually mad.

The smile you had reflected on the metalhead’s face as he realized you were just teasing.

“What can I say? Storming the gates of Waterdeep is way more fun than reading ‘Hamlet’,” Eddie teased you with a self-satisfied smirk.

The rest of the table all nodded and murmured in agreement, the three youngest imploring you to understand with their pleading eyes.

“It’s fine,” you promised Dustin, assuring him you weren’t upset, “I’d just like to actually eat lunch on my lunch break.”

You exchanged a few more words with the table, being introduced to Gareth, Jeff, and another upper classman whose name you didn’t quite catch.

Checking your watch, you were about to say your goodbyes and go back to work, when you heard your name being called.

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes as you watched Jason Carver walk up to you. The smile on his face unsettled you in ways you couldn’t explain.

Jason had spent an entire school year trying to get you to go out with him before you graduated. You never agreed as there was just something about the guy that always rubbed you the wrong way. Hearing from Dustin and Mike that he and his friends had a habit of bullying their group didn’t help change your opinion about Jason. If you remembered correctly, he had been dating Chrissy Cunnigham since the summer.

That didn’t seem to stop him from making a point to come over and try to chat with you. Even if your break wasn’t coming to an end, you still wouldn’t stick around for that.

“Jason,” you greeted him politely, tense tone that the teen didn’t appear to pick up.

“Haven’t seen you since you graduated. How have you been?”

“Been fine. Working.”

You hoped short answers would be obvious enough to let on that you really didn’t want to talk. Apparently, you overestimated Jason’s intelligence because he just kept talking.

Being rude was something you hated, but you really did have to go.

“Look, this is… great,” you hesitated to use any positive word, “but I really have to get back to work. I just came to bring Dustin his textbook.”

It seemed Jason only just noticed by your words what table you were standing at. His friendly smile dropped as he looked from each table member then back to you.

Any normal person would have tried to be discreet with what was said next, but not Jason. No, never Jason.

Because Jason was a world class jackass.

“You know, I’m a little worried about you if these are the kinds of people you hang out with.”

“’These kinds of people’?” you questioned, brows furrowed.

You weren’t stupid. You had heard the stories from Mike and Dustin, but you wanted to know if Jason was really dumb enough to make this kind of a scene in a public school cafeteria.

Turns out he was. No surprise there.

“Freaks,” he answered as if it was obvious, no hesitation in his response.

If Jason noticed the way your jaw clenched, he didn’t say anything. Dustin noticed though because he subtly took hold of your hand closest to him in an attempt to keep you calm.

It wasn’t a secret you had a temper especially when provoked.

The gentle squeeze on your fingers from Dustin was enough to remind yourself not to let your anger get the best of you.

Eddie noticed your shift in attitude as well and was about to intervene when you spoke up.

“Jason, I know your pea sized brain can’t possibly comprehend this, but just because someone is different from you doesn’t mean that it’s a bad thing,” you went to take a step forward, but Dustin’s grip held you back.

It was probably for the best anyway.

“I don’t know what the hell makes you think you have the right to judge people who aren’t like you and your brain-dead teammates, but nothing gives you the right to be an asshole to people you don’t even know.”

You hadn’t noticed but you had gained some attention from the other cafeteria goers with your small rant.

Maybe your words had stunned him or maybe he just wasn’t expecting you to say something like that, but Jason didn’t say anything for a moment.

When he finally did, it was the stupidest thing you had ever heard in your life.

“Girls shouldn’t curse.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. Out of all the things he could have said, it had to be something like that.

“Get fucked,” you immediately replied, before turning away from him and back to the table.

You softly pulled your hand from Dustin’s grasp as you looked down at him in his seat. He was hesitant to let go until you gave him a smile to assure him you were alright.

You murmured a quiet goodbye to the table, ruffling Mike’s hair affectionately.

“Don’t forget that book tomorrow,” you pointed a finger at Dustin with a smile before you left the cafeteria and the school.

You never noticed the look of awe that followed you from one Eddie Munson.

Meeting Eddie may have been a game of chance. Falling in love with him, on the other hand, seemed to be some divine decree. That’s what you both liked to think anyway.

“It’s written in the stars,” he would say.

There was no doubt in his mind that he was made to love you and you him.

Later in your relationship he would go on to tell you that he loved you ever since that day in the cafeteria. That he was so incredibly grateful that Dustin had forgotten his English book that day.

It just took him a while to actually get up the courage to ask you out on a date.

Technically, he never asked you. He had slipped you a note. Being Eddie, though, it wasn’t a normal note.

Going to drug dealers was not something you made a habit out of. We’re just going to make that clear right now.

Steve was throwing a small party and had wanted to add marijuana on top of the alcohol that he was going to have. The only problem was that the guy he normally bought from had moved away.

It was no secret that Eddie sold drugs. He brought the lunch box with him to school, for crying out loud.

Having developed a friendship with the metalhead, Steve had asked if you could buy from Eddie for the party and you didn’t exactly say ‘no’.

You didn’t mind, it just wasn’t something you had done a lot before.

Pulling up to the trailer Eddie lived in with his uncle was a familiar thing. You’d gone there with Eddie on nights that his band played, to watch movies together, just to hang out. You’ve been there many times.

Just not as one of Eddie’s customers.

It almost seemed to catch him off guard when he swung the door open and you told him the reason for your visit.

He was more than happy to sell to you though.

Only, as he was getting the weed ready for you, he seemed to be acting strange. Well, stranger than usual.

He appeared hesitant as he handed you the bag just as you held the money out to him.

“Thanks, Eddie. I really appreciate it,” you smiled at him.

“Yeah, of course. It’s no problem.”

“We’re still on for movie night tomorrow?”

“If you still want to, absolutely,” he nodded his head.

You gave him a slightly confused look, “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders in response, and you wanted to ask him if something was wrong.

“Don’t you have a party to get to?” he changed the subject.

Glancing down at your watch, you realized you had been at his house a little longer than you intended.

“Yeah,” you agreed, slipping the bag in your back pocket and wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

His arms were quick to wrap around you and hug back, squeezing a little tighter than usual.

“Go on before you’re too late,” he smiled at you.

You made a mental note to ask about his odd behavior tomorrow.

“See you tomorrow night,” you promised him, slipping outside and heading to your car.

You took the bag of weed out of your pocket and tossed it in the passenger seat so you wouldn’t sit on it.

Just as you were about to crank the car, something caught your attention. You had to turn the map light on to see better.

‘Want to go out on a date?’

The words were inked in black marker onto the bag Eddie had just handed you.

It took your brain a minute to fully register the words. Your body was quick to move and you sprinted from the car, up the stairs, and started knocking furiously on the front door.

As soon as Eddie opened the door, you held the bag up for him to see. Your eyes held a silent question, ‘Do you mean it?’

His right hand came up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly as he nodded his head, and you couldn’t help but admire the bats permanently etched onto his skin. You wanted to trace every bit of ink his skin held.

“Yes,” you suddenly broke the silence.

“Yeah?” he asked, checking to make sure he heard you correctly.

Your feet carried you through the threshold of the door to right in front of him, hands itching to take his.

“Yes,” you reaffirmed your answer.

The smile that he gave you right then and there would forever be one of your favorite memories.

Loving him came so natural to you that when you first entertained the notion, you were filled with both a sense of peace and terror.

Peace because being around him was so easy. He never made you feel like you had to put on a face or hide behind a mask like you did with so many others. It was a sentiment that he had shared with you one late night.

Terror because no one had ever made you feel the way he did. Eddie brought out a side of you that no other had. You had never loved anyone so passionately and deep as you had your beloved metalhead.

That’s why his death was so hard on you. Because you knew that you would never feel for anyone the way you did Eddie.

The days following his death were a mixture of emotions. Grief being obvious.

Some days you would rage at the universe. Cursing whatever higher power saw fit to put Eddie in your path and allow you to love him. Then you would break down into sobs of guilt for feeling even the slightest regret about any of your time with him. You understood that it was just another part of the grief. There wasn’t a moment you would trade and the regret you felt was for not having more time.

It just didn’t feel fair that the universe would give him to you and then allow him to die.

Allow him to be so cruelly taken from you.

The only positive thought was the picture you had in your head of his eternal afterlife.

You would never claim to be anything of an expert of the subject, but you liked to think he was doing whatever made him happy.

Performing his music. Playing Dungeons and Dragons. Idly strumming his beloved guitar on his bed while a joint of rolled up weed hung from his lips.

There were people you had lost before so you knew time had an effect on memories of loved ones no longer around.

Photographs allowed you to see the dearly departed but other things would fade from your mind.

Soon you would forget the sound of his voice. The way his laugh sounded. The look of excitement and pride every time he finally nailed a riff in a song that took him ages to get. The smell of his cologne and a musk that was just him, a faint smell of weed clinging to him. You always told him you didn’t need alcohol or drugs because his intoxicating scent was the best high you ever felt.

You never wanted anything about Eddie to fade as life went on, so you replayed ever memory you had of him every day.

It would never be the same though and there would never be a time where you didn’t miss him.

Your first kiss played in your mind on many occasions.

You were just hanging out like normal. Eddie had taken you out on your first date the night before. It wasn’t some grand first date, but it meant everything to you.

He had taken you out to eat some greasy food and then to some movie. You don’t remember what movie as neither of you had paid attention to it after the first fifteen minutes. You just stayed and sneakily threw popcorn at some fellow movie goers until you got kicked out by security.

Your hang out turned into a movie night which was meant to make up for the movie you both didn’t watch the previous night.

“You want to stay the night?” Eddie suddenly asked as the end credits from the second movie of the night started to roll.

“Mmhm.”

You nodded your head that rested against his shoulder, eyelids beginning to feel heavy. You didn’t want to go to sleep yet. The night was perfect, in your opinion, and you didn’t want it to end. It couldn’t if you just stayed awake.

Eddie must have noticed your struggle though.

One of his hands came up to brush against your cheek. You allowed yourself to lean into his touch in your sleepy state.

“Hey,” his voice murmured softly. “We can go to sleep now if you want.”

You looked up at him bleary-eyed, brain taking a moment to fully register what he had said.

“Are you sure? There’s still one more movie you wanted to watch,” you questioned.

A quiet chuckle slipped past his lips and you almost hated how easily he could make your heart flutter. Almost.

“Sweetheart, you can barely keep your eyes open. If I put the last movie in, you won’t make it through the previews,” he pointed out.

You wanted to object to his words, but a yawn interrupted you and just proved Eddie’s point. He raised his eyebrows at you as if to say, “I told you so”.

Nodding your head in agreement and a quiet ‘okay’, Eddie turned the television off and helped your tired form to your feet. He was kind enough to let you lean up against him as he walked you both back to his bedroom. Just as he was about to cross into his room, your voice stopped his feet’s movements.

“What was that?”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you repeated your words, face pressed into his neck.

He smiled down at you, “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You made a move to press a kiss against his cheek, but your movement caught his attention and he turned his head to see what you were doing. Which caused your kiss to miss his cheek and land directly on his lips.

Whatever sleepiness you felt almost immediately disappeared as you jumped back like you’d been shocked. Both of you stared wide-eyed at each other.

“Sorry,” you began to profusely apologize, “I was just trying to—”

Eddie was quick to cut you off as one of his hands went around the back of your neck, the other cupping your cheek, and pulled you into a deep kiss.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling him closer while you kissed him back. He matched your passion by pulling you as close to him as physically possible. He held you like you’d slip away if he didn’t hold you tight enough.

In the future, you would always tell him that you adored when he held you like that. It made you feel so loved. He would then say that he would always love you like that. That he couldn’t imagine a time in his life when he wouldn’t be in love with you.

Nights tended to be the hardest. There were times where the mere thought of going to bed without him was too much to bear.

In those moments, you would pull on his jacket and wrap your arms around yourself. The record player would play the song you two always danced together to.

If you really tried, you could almost pretend he was holding you and swaying you both to the music.

He’d always do that when you had a bad day. Occasionally you could swear that you heard him whispering in your ear.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

He would say it to you so softly.

It was something that he said so often to you on your off days. Eddie always wanted you to know that whatever it was you were feeling, he wasn’t going anywhere.

That was when you were so cruelly reminded that his promise was one he hadn’t been able to keep.

You were only reminded that he wasn’t there anymore.

You were very good at reminding yourself of all the things you didn’t do or wouldn’t get to share with Eddie anymore. Perhaps it was the guilt you carried around with you at not doing something to help him.

It’s not like you could do anything. You weren’t even there when he died.

You had been with Robin, Nancy, and Steve at the time of your boyfriend’s tragic death.

It wasn’t your first decision, but Nancy had pointed out they could use all the help possible to kill Vecna. Eddie, while not liking the idea of you walking straight into Vecna’s base of operations, wasn’t very fond of you being in on the decoy for the demobats.

Damn bats.

You wished you had been there now.

Maybe you could have done something different. Something to hold the bats off long enough until it was over. Or maybe you could have done something to help Eddie until you all were able to get him to a hospital.

That wasn’t fair to yourself though and the brown eyed boy you love would tell you the same thing.

God, how you wanted to scream at him for being a hero. How you hated him for being so reckless and leaving you like he did.

But you didn’t hate him.

You couldn’t.

How could you hate him for being so selfless as to put his life in danger just to give you, Steve, Robin, and Nancy a few extra minutes?

Details would fade with time.

The cocky grin on his face when he thought he had someone beat in Dungeons and Dragons. The exact shade of brown of his eyes. How his finger’s felt when he lightly traced soft patterns into your skin. Even how your name sounded falling from his lips.

There was nothing you could do against the ravages of time. Everything fell victim by its cruel hands.

But you don’t think you would ever truly forget the boy who you fell so deeply in love with.

How could you ever forget him?

[avacoleman]

when the lights go out || a firstprince fic

summary: Henry Fox’s career is in crisis and his dating life isn’t faring much better either.  After a chance encounter with a charming man becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons, Henry throws himself into his next assignment: writing the memoir of a beloved C-list actor. Henry, however, knows Alex best for the role he played as his random, awkward one-night stand. Henry enters their professional partnership keen on keeping their relationship just that. But after Henry confesses that their hookup was less than spectacular, Alex concots an arrangement that Henry is unable to resist. In addition to ghostwriting Alex’s life story, Henry will teach him a thing or two about satisfying a man.  As they spend months out on the road together, they must decide if the connection between them is yet another story worth telling.

chapter 5/8 || rated e || read on ao3 *updates every tues. and fri. *

Reno, NV Reno Pop Culture Con They sit around in Henry’s room playing card games, eating, and watching TV to kill time until Alex has to leave for satellite interviews in his room with outlets on the East Coast. The upcoming Crescent Valley special continues to make headlines, especially as filming is set to start in a few weeks. Henry is both excited and apprehensive about that. It only serves as a reminder that their time together is growing increasingly limited with only three more stops after Reno. Henry straightens up his room a bit from the mess they’ve somehow managed to make in the few hours of they’ve essentially been couch potatoes. In theory, they could have gone out and explored the city. Alex has an appearance tomorrow and the day will more than likely get gobbled up as a result.  All the same, there’s a comfort in being able to have Alex just for himself within these four walls, the two of them only really needing each other to enjoy the day. Henry rolls his suitcase aside in an attempt to tuck it into the corner but it bumps against the nightstand, sending his toiletry bag flying from where it’s perched. Items fall from it, clattering against the floor.

Alex helps him with the mess, his fingers clutching a bottle of lube. 

“I’ve been getting so acquainted with this these last few weeks,” Alex laughs.

“Yes, and I think we’ll successfully manage to teach you an appropriate amount to use. That night in New York, you used a lot.”

Alex cringes a bit.

“I was scared of hurting you. I didn’t mean to go overboard.”

Henry smiles softly and cups Alex’s face, searching his eyes.

“That’s sweet, Alex, and it’s good to be cautious. I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do,” he says sincerely, lowering his hand. “Having a considerate partner is crucial. That’s going to go a long way for the guys you’re with.”

Alex smiles a little and Henry is happy to see his words are able to reassure him.

“May I ask something personal?”

Alex’s brows furrow and he scratches his chin.

“Um, yeah.”

“Have you ever fingered yourself?”

Alex blushes and shakes his head.

“Never got up the courage to. After my big revelation or whatever, I thought about it. You know, what it’d be like to have someone inside me whether it be their fingers or their dick,” he says, shrugging. “It was enough just to fantasize about it. I’ve gotten off thinking about it, but haven’t been able to bring myself to test it firsthand, no.”

Henry nods. “I can understand that. But, if you’re ever able to stop psyching yourself out, I would recommend it. Aside from it simply just feeling good,” he muses, “it’s also a great way to become familiar with your body and potential future partners too. You’ll be better equipped when the time comes to hit the right spot.”

Alex’s brows furrow. “You mean, the prostate?

Henry nods. “Exactly, yes. It might take some prodding, but that’s what you’re looking for. It’ll feel like a little bump.”

Alex seems to digest this information.

“So, you…you do it yourself then sometimes?”

Henry smiles and nods. “Yes, I do. I don’t stop with just my fingers either. Toys can be fun too.”

Alex blinks twice.

“I haven’t even thought about that yet.”

Henry laughs. “Maybe one day I’ll give you an advanced course. For now, we’ll stick to the basics.” He hesitates for a moment. “Before the tour is over, perhaps I can do it to you, if you’d like.”

Alex nods and Henry watches the change in the rise and fall of Alex’s chest, how much deeper he's breathing.

“Definitely. I want that at some point.”

Alex purses his lips. “Would you just stop there?”

Henry raises a brow in question. Alex sighs.

“I mean, I guess what I’m asking is if you’d be up for, you know, screwing me after you opened me up one day.”

Henry pulls in a breath. The thought has crossed his mind far too many times for Henry to count or to ever openly admit to. He simply nods.

“I’d love to, so long as you’d be interested.”

“More than interested, Hen. I want to work up to that. I want you to fuck me.”

Henry’s jaw clenches as a tugging sensation unfurls in the pit of his stomach. He’d take Alex right now, if the timing were right.

“I promise. We’ll make it happen in the next few weeks.”

Between Alex’s stunned expression and the overwhelming feeling of anticipation now coursing through his veins, Henry isn’t sure which one of them is more eager for that day to come.

Henry smiles and pats Alex’s knee. 

“We still have a bit of time before you have to go. Would you maybe like a lesson?” he asks, tapping the bottle still in Alex’s hand as he climbs into bed.

Alex’s eyes rake over Henry’s body, nodding all the while. 

“I want you to work on your pacing and overall technique when fingering. I also want you to find my prostate. See if you can make me come,” Henry says.

Alex looks a bit unsure of himself.

“You’ve got this. I’m right here,” Henry coaxes. “I’ll talk you through it and answer any questions you might have. This is all just practice. Don’t worry.”

Alex squares his shoulders and nods again.

“Yeah, alright.”

Henry gives him a reassuring smile before undressing. He’ll never grow tired of the way Alex looks at him. Henry holds his gaze as he spreads his legs and pushes them back, feet pressed firmly against the bed, hands on his knees.

A glorious blush blooms above the collar of Alex’s shirt and up his neck as he licks his lips and flicks open the lid. He squeezes a bit onto his fingertips, angling his hand so Henry can see.

“Is that good?”

Henry nods. “Perfect, yeah.”

Reassured, Alex looks more confident as he lowers his hand and applies the substance to Henry’s entrance. His touch is light and yet it’s as if Henry can feel him in every part of his body. He hadn’t realized just how keyed up he’s been for this. 

He clenches his jaw and breathes sharply through his nose. Alex must notice as he stops immediately.

“Shit, did I do something wrong?”

Henry shakes his head. “No, love. The exact opposite. Keep going.”

Alex searches his face before continuing. “I think you’re covered pretty well.”

Henry smiles. “Next step now is to open me up.”

The words seem to both terrify and intrigue Alex. He sets the pad of his thumb against Henry and rubs him in a circular motion. Henry sighs, relaxing his body further, stretching out against the bed and pillows. He watches Alex, takes in the look of pure concentration on his face, but also the wonder too as studies the way Henry’s body responds to him. Alex curses under his breath and looks up at Henry, smiling.

Henry is glad to see Alex allowing himself the full experience of this. That first night was so rushed and frantic, Alex was just going through the motions and not savoring any of it. Today, Henry is keen on giving him an entirely different encounter.

“I think…you might be ready. At least for one finger,” Alex says.

Henry nods. “I’d say so too.”

Alex swallows hard and takes a breath before swapping the motion of his thumb for gingerly sliding his index finger in. His face flushes and Henry’s does too as his walls cinch around Alex. He bites back on his lower lip. Alex freezes and looks up at him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Alex says. “It feels tight.”

“That’s okay. That’s perfectly normal,” Henry assures. “Just go slowly. I promise, it’ll be alright. I’ll tell you if it’s not.”

Alex searches his eyes and nods. He pumps his finger slowly, his free hand resting on Henry’s inner thigh. Alex’s eyes are trained on what he’s doing. It’s a bit fascinating to watch him work. Henry’s body relaxes more and more at the intrusion and the tension in Alex’s brow lessens too. His finger works into Henry with far more ease though his pattern is a bit too repetitive.

“Don’t just set rhythm. Change the tempo and angle every now and then,” Henry reminds him.

Alex blushes a bit, but he heeds Henry’s words. Instead of a standard in-out, he switches up his pumps. Henry exhales softly as his body syncs to it.

“You could take another,” Alex says, looking down at his rim before glancing up at him.

Henry moans. “I need it.”

Alex curses and removes his hand for a moment, adding just a drop more of lube to his fingertips before sliding them home inside Henry carefully. He resumes his pumps with his index and middle fingers, switching it up every now and then. His free hand rubs small, soothing circles against Henry’s thigh. Alex seems far more confident now as he quickens his pace, falling into tune with Henry’s body and anticipating what he needs.

“That’s it, darling. Oh, my god,” Henry rasps.

His eyes flutter shut as Alex works his fingers in and out of him, angling his hand in different directions. Henry hums in approval, letting out a gasp as Alex’s fingertips nudge against his prostate.

“Did you feel that?” Henry asks.

“Shit, yeah,” Alex says, perking up a bit. 

“That’s right where you want to focus on ultimately. You can taunt and tease, drag things out with your partner as much as you guys would like, but in the end, that’s what will push them over the edge each and every time.”

Alex strokes his fingers against his prostate experimentally. Henry whimpers, body shuddering. Alex does it again, lightly teasing him. Henry writhes against the bed, completely at his mercy.

“So hot,” Alex says to himself before looking Henry in the eyes. “Can I touch you even more?” 

Henry almost laughs hysterically. How could that even be up for question?

“Please. I want to feel you everywhere I possibly can. I need you, Alex.”

Alex licks his lips, his free hand wrapping around Henry’s cock at once. Henry’s mouth falls open as Alex begins to jerk him off. Henry grabs helplessly at the sheets.

Alex adds a third finger when Henry is wide enough to take it and he thrusts his hand forward. Henry bucks his hips to meet each return. Alex’s other hand is steady on his cock, teasing his slit. Under his arousal is deep pride in seeing how well Alex is applying everything they’ve been covering over the last few weeks.

Alex’s fingers curl inside him, pressing directly on his prostate. Henry cries out, his back arching off the bed as Alex continues to work him over. Henry tugs at the bedding again, a hand reaching back against the wall, scrambling for purchase desperately trying to find something to ground him.

“You’re so sexy like this,” Alex says. “I can tell how badly you want it. How badly you need me to be the one touching you. You’re so desperate for it, baby, my god.”

Henry’s mouth hangs open at his words. It’s the absolute truth.

“You’re incredible, Alex,” he hiccups. “You make me feel...God, I can’t—,” he cuts off and curses, undignified but with little care as his resolve breaks. He gives in to the sensations coursing through him from all sides.

He moans Alex’s name over and over as he comes, begging him not to stop. The man doesn’t. Alex’s fingers press more firmly against that particular spot as his other hand pumps feverishly over his cock. Henry keeps jerking his body forward, chasing the high that is Alex Claremont-Diaz pleasuring him into oblivion.

His eyes are watering, his heart slamming erratically, his breathing ragged by the time his body works through the rising tide washing over him.

Alex removes his hands and all Henry can do is flop back feeling absolutely boneless against the bed, practically seeing stars. He can’t think. His mind is utter mush, his body buzzing. He only has enough energy to turn his head towards Alex’s voice as he speaks.

“That’s how our first night should have gone,” Alex says, settling in beside him.

Henry’s face feels sweaty and he’d bet good money he looks completely wrecked, but Alex’s gaze makes him feel like the most attractive man on Earth. 

“I can’t even tell you how good it feels to know what it sounds like when you come for real.” Alex smiles to himself. “I swear there’s no greater sound in the world than hearing you moan my name like that.” 

Alex leans in and kisses him softly. Henry wants more, but he can’t even speak. He’s too spent, too stunned. Alex is an incredibly quick study and this swagger he possesses in the bedroom is such a turn on.

Alex brushes his nose against Henry’s, his breath soft against his face.

“If I can make you lose it like that with my fingers, just imagine the things I could make you feel when I’m buried inside you,” he says, placing a kiss on his lips again. “When you’re riding my cock, taking every inch of me.” Alex searches his eyes, cupping his cheek and brushing his skin with the side of his thumb.

It’s so soft and in such sharp contrast to the words he’s saying. 

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to fuck you right next time?”

He kisses Henry again, deeper this time. Henry whimpers into his mouth as Alex runs a hand down his back and his ass.

“I’d get you coming in no time, begging for more like the needy good boy that you are.”

“Christ, Alex,” Henry rasps, his body trembling at the mere thought.

Alex gets up just then and Henry wishes he had the strength to protest. All he wants to do now is crawl into Alex’s side and stay burrowed there forever. To have this man pleasure him until the end of time, to make good on the images he’s just planted in his head.

When Alex returns, it’s with a wet cloth that he uses to clean Henry up.

“I fear I may have created a monster with you,” Henry says. His voice sounds different in his own ears. Yet another thing Alex is responsible for wrecking.

Alex smiles as he wipes Henry’s stomach.

“I’d apologize, but I’m too busy mentally patting myself on the back. I don’t know, I feel oddly…proud.”

“You should. I don’t mean to sound patronizing, but I’m impressed. These last few weeks, you’ve been crushing it. You’ve come a long way since the night we met. I soon won’t have anything more to teach you. Then again, my time on the tour will be coming to an end soon anyway and you won’t need me.”

Something almost sad passes in Alex’s eyes.

“Henry, we’ve never–”

Whatever Alex is about to say gets interrupted as Henry’s phone vibrates from its place on the nightstand where he left it to charge.

Henry takes a glance at the screen and bolts upright, unplugging the phone and holding it up for Alex to see Zahra’s name flashing across the screen.

He quickly answers, suddenly very aware of the fact that he’s naked. He fishes around for his underwear as he greets her.

“Hi, Zahra. How are you?” he asks as he finally finds his boxer briefs and slips them on.

“I’m fine, thanks. I tried calling Alex, but he didn’t answer. Is everything alright?” Zahra asked. “Don’t tell me he went off someplace last night.”

“No, no. He’s right here with me, actually. He must have his phone on silent or something.”

Henry puts Zahra on speaker.

“Oh, good, you’re together,” she says, her voice ringing so clearly it’s as if she’s physically in the room with them. A terrifying thought, all things considered.

“Hey, Z,” Alex says. “Where’s the fire?”

“No fire. I have good news for you both. Your editor is very pleased with these preliminary pages. Whatever the hell you two are doing, keep it up.”

Henry and Alex exchange a glance over the phone, both biting back laughs.

“Anyway, that’s all I needed to say and I just wanted to check in, see how things are going on the road.”

“We’re all good. Henry and I are thick as thieves.”

“That’s not the comfort you think it is. I hope you aren’t corrupting him, Alex.”

“Nope, the opposite really. I’m learning so much from the guy. You wouldn’t believe it.”

Henry playfully shoves Alex who sticks out his tongue and winks.

“You’re being weird, but I don’t care enough to find out why.” She pauses. “Okay, I have to run, but keep up the good work. If you all need anything, you know how to reach me.”

She doesn’t offer an actual goodbye; the line goes dead before they can say anything further.

“On a scale of one to nuclear, how badly do you think she’d react if she knew she just gave us further license to keep screwing around?” Alex asks.

Henry taps a finger to the corner of his mouth. “I’m thinking…Earth shattering. Complete annihilation. Total extinction.”

Alex smirks. “Is it bad that that just excites me more?” he asks, moving closer into Henry’s personal space.

Henry’s reaction to him is instant, his pulse quickening.

“I wish you wouldn’t get so hot and bothered when we’ve literally no time for me to make good on it. You start the junket in literally,” he glances at the phone for the time, “sixteen minutes.”

Alex’s eyes glint mischievously, their lips mere centimeters apart.

“Haven’t you been saying all along that anticipation is what makes things hotter?”

Henry can’t help it; his body pitches forward on its own accord, but Alex laughs wickedly as he slips out of bed and stands. Henry pouts like a petulant child. Alex takes mercy on him, slipping a hand into his hair and kissing him deeply for a moment before he turns to go.

Henry watches him head for the door, wishing foolishly that he could follow. 

Alex pauses at the door and looks back at him, biting on his lower lip. Henry can only imagine the sight he must be with disheveled hair, naked among sex mussed sheets. He hopes it’s a tempting view for Alex, one that will make him want to return to Henry’s room the second his interviews are done. 

Alex takes a breath and squares his shoulders.

“To be continued.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Alex smiles, his eyes drinking Henry in. 

“When have I ever broken a promise to you?”

~*~*~

Austin, TXGreater Austin Comic Con

Henry stares up at the vast, starry sky above him and inhales deeply as his eyes close. He hears the crackle of fire in the pit where he sits in the backyard of Alex’s father’s lake house.

It’s perhaps the most serene he’s felt on this entire tour and he knows Alex feels the same. After all, nothing could ever compare to home for a man who spends so much of his life traveling to different cities across the country for months at a time.

From the moment they landed, Alex had become even more animated than usual, going on and on about all the things he wanted to show Henry. It all sounded wonderful, like particularly good content he could use for the book.

But more than that, Henry was looking forward to having a real look into the basis of Alex’s life over the next week. It was one thing to hear the stories he’d recount, but quite another to physically be in the places that held meaning to Alex, to speak firsthand with the people who shaped him.

Alex had taken him to visit his childhood home, the place that meant so much to him he’d taken to wearing its key around his neck. There, he got to see Alex’s history like a museum. The trophies he’d won for lacrosse, childhood photos that covered the walls and mantles, the very bedroom where Alex kissed a boy for the first time.

Alex shared it all with him, aided by his parents and stepfather along with June and Nora— the latter two of which had been especially keen on spilling Alex’s more embarrassing stories. 

The day had been long, but beautiful, especially as it led them here to this gorgeous setting. The others have already called it a night, but Henry and Alex, true night owls, had opted to stay out a bit longer.

“Could I tempt you with a late night stroll?” Alex asks.

Henry hums softly in assent, turning his head to the side and opening his eyes to find Alex already looking at him.

The flames reflect in his eyes, but a fire of a different kind seems to burn in their depths.

“I could be persuaded, yes.” He smiles then and takes a hold of the hand Alex extends to him as he stands.

He’s not expecting Alex to keep holding on, but he doesn’t object or pull away. Instead, Henry brushes his thumb twice against the back of Alex’s hand as Alex puts out the fire.

There’s something rather romantic about this scene though Henry does his best not to lean far heavily into such a thought as they start to walk.

“So, now that you’ve had an up close and personal view of my family, what do you think?”

Henry smiles. “I can see perfectly why you are the way that you are.”

Alex jokingly narrows his eyes. 

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not,” he laughs.

Henry chuckles as well. “Hardly. I only meant…you’re well-loved. You’ve got such a wonderful support system behind you. You guys are a real family, even if slightly unconventional. But it works and it’s beautiful. Not everyone has that.”

Alex’s brows furrow.

“Do you? You don’t really talk about your family. I figure there’s a reason why, so I’ve never wanted to push it.”

Henry smiles wistfully. It’s true. He’s mentioned Bea plenty of times to Alex and spoke fondly of her, naturally. But the rest of his family and the relationship he has with them has felt too messy and complicated to discuss, especially when contrasted with Alex’s family.

“Outside of Bea, I don’t get on that well with my family. My brother Philip can best be described as a stick in the mud with a stick up his arse. Then there’s the matter of my gran who is perhaps the most conservative being in the world,” he says, attempting to be somewhat diplomatic. 

From the look on Alex’s face, it’s obvious he understands the implication and doesn’t like it one bit.

“Between the two of them, it’s evident that quite literally no part of my life will ever meet their arbitrary set of standards. It made leaving home that much easier though, I can say that much.”

Alex frowns.

“What about your parents? Are you at least closer to them?”

Henry stops walking. Alex gently lets go of his hand but stays close, stepping in front of him. Henry smiles sadly at him.

“My father was the most exceptional man. He passed away a few years ago. I still miss him terribly every day.”

Alex lets out a breath.

“Henry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have…I’m sorry,” he says, lightly touching Henry’s cheek. Henry leans into his touch.

“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known, but thank you.” 

Alex strokes his cheek and Henry finds it within himself to continue. 

“My mother and I used to be quite close. However, since my father passed, she’s been lost in her grief, but she has been working to find her way back. It’s been rather difficult on her…on all of us. In so many ways, I feel as if I’ve lost both my parents.”

Alex leans in and kisses his other cheek, lingering for a moment before wrapping both arms around him. Henry embraces him as well.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Alex says. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this. You don’t deserve any of it.”

Henry smiles to himself and kisses Alex’s temple.

“That’s okay, love. Mum and I are still making progress even though I’m no longer home. And I’ve managed to have a pretty good life here in the States. You’re a part of that now. Thankfully so.”

It’s a damning truth, but one Henry feels comfortable in sharing. This time on the road with Alex has truly been one of the greatest experiences of his life, not just in the few years he’s been living in this country. He feels blessed to have him.

Alex pulls back and looks at him.

“You do realize this means you can never get rid of me then, right? It’s a whole If You Give a Mouse a Cookie thing going on here now. Did you have that book growing up in England? Anyway, the point is, I’m not going anywhere.”

Henry laughs. “I would never dream of getting rid of you. If anything, I’d venture to say it’s you who is now stuck with me.”

Alex takes a hold of his hand again and snorts.

“Stuck with,” he mutters. 

They resume their walk and despite the heavy nature of their talk earlier, they’re able to slip back into an easygoing atmosphere. Henry supposes it comes down to both the scenery around them and simply the power that is Alex.

They wind up close to the water’s edge and Henry thinks vaguely of weeks ago in Portland, to the awkward conversation by the pond out there that somehow led to this newfound relationship with Alex. Since meeting Alex that night in New York, his life has taken on a turn he could have never seen coming.

“Have you ever gone skinny dipping before?” Alex asks suddenly. It’s the very last thing Henry had been expecting to hear.

His head snaps to the side to look at Alex who is already reaching for the hem of his own shirt.

“Are you mad? What if someone sees us?”

Alex merely laughs as he tosses his shirt to the ground and kicks off his shoes.

“Then we’d really just be gifting them with the glorious sight of your naked body and honestly, they should thank us for such service.”

Henry huffs out a laugh and shakes his head incredulously. Alex simply undoes the button on his jeans and cocks a brow in challenge.

Henry shouldn’t take the bait. He knows it. But Alex’s ability to get under his skin and bring out his competitive side is unmatched. He refuses to let Alex best him.

Henry scoffs and quickly finds himself disrobing as well until they’re standing nude in front of each other. Alex’s eyes roam his body as they always do, his fingertips trailing along a vein in Henry’s arm and up to his shoulder.

Alex’s hand secures around the nape of his neck and Henry closes the space between them and kisses him. Alex’s fingers comb through his hair and Henry moans softly at the feel, his hips pressing to Alex’s as he grips the man’s sides. He feels breathless by the time Alex turns away and heads into the water without another word or glance.

Henry watches his figure as he goes, feeling a swell of emotion surging in his chest. The tide has been changing for some time now and tonight, it seems to be coming to the surface.

Alex cuts through the water with ease as he swims, his strong arms carrying him towards the end of the dock. Henry finally joins him, shivering as his body adjusts to the cool waters.

“I thought you were chickening out on me,” Alex says, coming closer to him.

Henry shakes his head. “I needed a moment to enjoy the view. You make for quite the sight. I’d be remiss if I didn’t savor it.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but the soft smile he tries to bite back contradicts him.

“Ever the writer.”

Here, with milky white moonlight casting them in shadows, it’s all too easy to let himself hide in this moment, to run from the reality that Alex isn’t actually his to keep even if he gets to have him now.

In this moment, they can be whatever his heart wants them to be. It’s in such violation of the terms and conditions to this agreement, but Henry cannot bring himself to come clean and wreck this.

He kisses Alex, pressing their chests together and leaning Alex against one of the dock’s posts. This night feels different and it strikes Henry then that this entire scenario is. They aren’t kissing as a means of leading into a lesson. They’re simply doing it because they want to. 

He knows, in his heart, he should call this out now and yet, as Alex holds his face and kisses him deeper, Henry won’t dare to put a stop to it. Alex wraps his legs around him and Henry holds him up, shamelessly gripping his ass and pulling him in even closer still. His lungs burn for a clean breath.

Alex pulls away only slightly, enough to look him in the eyes. There’s a question in his gaze, a sort of hesitancy or uncertainty. Fear of ruining the moment keeps Henry from asking.

He stares back as Alex’s thumb traces the curve of Henry’s bottom lip.

“I really like kissing you,” Alex says.

“The worst kept secret, darling. But I confess, I’m guilty of the same.”

Alex laughs and presses his mouth to Henry’s. Henry's hands move and tighten on Alex’s thighs as he continues to hold him up. Alex’s arms drape over Henry’s shoulders as his lips part, tongue seeking out Henry’s. Henry pours back into him, one hand moving to the small of Alex’s back.

Henry feels starved for him. It feels as if they spend hours out there under the stars, their bodies as close as humanly possible. He can feel how riled up Alex is, their direct contact making it impossible to ignore.

Henry isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to stave off the urge to have all of Alex.

“It’s late. We should probably get back inside,” he says softly after a while.

Alex detaches himself but brings one of Henry’s hands to his lips and kisses each fingertip.

Henry shudders and he knows it’s not because of the chilly lake. 

He stares at Alex, his heart aching the longer he looks.

God, does he love this man. The thought should scare him, but it doesn’t. It’s a truth Henry has known all along even if he hasn’t been bold enough to name it.

Alex’s face is hard to read in the dark, but he kisses Henry sweetly one last time before lacing their fingers and leading them out of the water to get dressed once more.

They return to the house and shower, begrudgingly in two different bathrooms but Henry knows it’s for the best. When he returns to the room they’re sharing, Alex is getting settled under the covers, smiling at him in greeting, hair still damp from the shower.

In some other life, Henry thinks, this would be the norm for them, ending the night together. At least for tonight, he can hold onto the domesticity of this and pretend.

Henry sets his toiletry bag back into his suitcase where it lays open in the corner of the room before pulling the comforter back and laying beside Alex who comes in close and burrows into his side immediately. Henry wraps an arm around him, his fingertips skimming down his back and along his side. Alex shivers and kisses his shoulder.

Henry feels a bit insane with how badly he wants more of this man. Being this close to him, smelling the scent of his body wash, feeling the warmth of his body, he’s not quite sure how he’ll survive the night but knows that he must.

“Can we go off script tonight?” Alex asks.

Henry peers down at him, taken aback by the question.

“I didn’t think we even had anything in mind for our stay. We’re with your family this week.”

Surely being in the same house with his entire family and best friend would be enough of a deterrent for Alex. The likelihood of someone catching them in the act was astronomically high.

Alex’s fingertips trace the dusting of hair below Henry’s navel as he places a kiss on Henry’s bare chest, his breath soft against Henry’s skin. Henry can’t help it; something stirs in the pit of his stomach, a yearning that quickly turns into an absolute need.

Willpower be damned.

Alex’s eyes flicker back up to his face.

“I can keep quiet if you can,” Alex says. 

Henry shuts his eyes and takes a cleansing breath before looking at Alex again. This man is sure to be his undoing.

“And what exactly did you envision for this evening, might I ask?”

Alex’s nimble fingers work to loosen the drawstring of Henry’s pajama bottoms.

“An extra credit project. I’d like to test myself with something, but I need your body to do it. You opened my eyes back in Minneapolis, indulged me in a fantasy I’ve had for longer than I’d like to publicly admit, even to you. I wonder if you might be willing to do that again?”

Henry thinks back to Minneapolis. That was so early on in their lessons but suddenly it hits him. He’d deviated from the outline on the second night of their stay and it led to unexpected yet pleasant terrain. He had enjoyed every second of picking Alex apart with his tongue.

From the way Alex is looking at him, it’s obvious he wants a turn in the driver’s seat now.

“Are you sure?” Henry asks.

Alex slips a hand between Henry’s legs, stroking him faintly as he brings his lips to his ear.

“Let me take care of you this time. I could be so good for you, Henry. I can make you feel the most amazing things,” he practically purrs. 

Henry grabs a handful of Alex’s ass. Alex gasps, his body trembling. There’s such naked hunger in his eyes. Henry is glad he’s not alone in that.

“Lock the door,” Henry says.

Alex grins and gets out of bed and bounds toward the door. Henry undresses himself completely by the time Alex turns back around.

Henry lays stretched out on his side, propping his head up on his hand. Alex’s eyes scan his entire body.

“How do you want me?” Henry asks.

Alex opens and closes his mouth as he meets his gaze.

“I know you’ve pictured it,” he says, quietly, trailing a fingertip slowly down his side. “You can tell me. I want this to be exactly how you want it.”

Alex takes a seat on the bed again and licks his lips. He runs a hand up one of Henry’s legs, lightly scratching at his thigh.

“It’s mostly always you on all fours, spread wide and letting me eat you out from behind,” Alex admits.

Henry doesn’t flinch.

“I like the way you think.”

Henry repositions himself just as Alex envisioned, dipping his back, putting himself shamelessly on display. He glances over his shoulder to look at Alex. The man’s mouth is agape. He reaches out a hand and runs it down the length of Henry’s spine and to his ass appraisingly. 

Henry grips the bedding to steady himself as he trembles as he looks forward again. 

“Just beautiful. Absolutely perfect in every way,” Alex says quietly. Henry feels himself blush from his chest all the way up to his face. He’s glad Alex can’t see just how much he’s affecting him already.

Alex’s palm journeys along the curve of Henry’s ass and he gives him a good, firm squeeze. Henry lets out a faint whimper.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t leave you hanging. Not when you’re behaving so well.”

Henry sighs in relief at the words and a moment later, Alex is kissing down the length of his spine before he has both hands on Henry’s ass, spreading him open. Henry braces himself, knuckles turning white as he fists the blanket.

The first touch of Alex’s tongue against his rim is unlike anything. His eyes water at once, his whole body desperate for more.

Alex gives him just that, returning his mouth to him again. Henry lets out a shuddering breath as Alex’s tongue teases him, making small circles that drive him crazy with want.

He arches his back, his head tipping backwards. The room is warm, but Henry feels a chill run through him as Alex’s tongue suctions inside him, the muscle making a pulsing beat.

“You’re so good at this,” Henry gasps. Alex moans softly in response. 

Alex spreads him wider, his tongue burying deeper and lapping against his walls. Henry’s right hand comes away from the blanket and covers his mouth, trapping a whimper.

He lets his hand fall away again, his cock aching between his legs. He tries to reach for it, but Alex gently nudges his hand out of the way and starts stroking him instead.

Henry’s eyes roll shut as he surrenders fully to Alex, letting him take complete control of his pleasure. It feels good to let go like this, to not overthink. To simply not think at all.

His upper half feels weak and Henry slumps forward against the bed, his cheek pressed into the pillow as his ass lifts higher in the air. He feels Alex’s weight shift to accommodate the new angle. His tongue is unrelenting and Henry wouldn’t have it any other way.

He can’t recall the last time someone has done this to him and the fact that now it’s Alex of all people is simply unparalleled.

Tears streak down his face and Henry wishes more than anything that he could scream Alex’s name, let him know just how good his ministrations feel. But having to stay quiet, to take attention this good in silence like this only turns him on more.

He rolls his hips backwards, shamelessly riding Alex’s tongue. He bites his bottom lip raw in the effort to keep from crying out. He reaches a hand back, grabbing a fistful of Alex’s hair as he fucks his tongue the second he strikes him just right.

“Shit,” he hisses softly. “You’ve got it, Alex. Don’t stop. Right there,” he coaxes, his voice a hoarse whisper.

He shivers, grinding back as Alex jerks him off in the same tempo as his tongue. The simultaneous moves break the dam and Henry’s eyes shut tight as he stays quiet through his orgasm. He grips Alex’s hair tighter, his other hand resting on top of Alex’s as the man squeezes his cock and strokes him, eking out every last drop.

Henry’s whole body is drained and he falls forward a bit. Alex’s arms circle him and hold him close, his body curving around Henry’s.

“H, are you okay?” Alex whispers in his ear, concern bleeding into his words. “Talk to me.”

Henry nods, catching his breath. 

“I’m good. I’m okay. I’m more than that,” he says. “This was just what I needed. It’s been ages since someone’s…,” he sighs, realizing he’s rambling. “You were perfect, Alex. Unbelievably perfect.”

He turns his face enough to capture Alex’s lips, not at all put off by where they’ve just been. If anything, it just fuels him more.

He’s breathless, but he kisses Alex greedily, needing him close still.

“Can I return the favor?” he asks after a moment.

Alex chuckles lightly in his ear. 

“As much as I would love that, and believe me, I would. It won’t be necessary. I, uh, kinda came in my pants? I haven’t done that since freshman year of high school so congrats on this crowning achievement,” he says, laughter still in his voice. “But man, watching you finish…there’s nothing else like it. I could play that on a loop forever.”

Henry searches his face and kisses him again, fully swiveling in his arms so they’re completely face to face once more. He hooks a leg over Alex’s hip, tangling his fingers in his curls.

Alex smiles at him.

“I’m never gonna be able to look at this room the same way,” Alex says, holding onto his wrist. “Pretty sure the bed is going to feel empty the next time I’m here without you.”

Henry’s heart sinks a little at the thought. He’s a footnote in this story. He’s known that from the start.

“I guess I’ll just have to leave you a ton of good memories to tide you over then,” he says.

Alex’s eyes drift to his lips and back to his eyes.

“You’ve given me enough good memories to last a lifetime. I’ll never forget.”

[omnivorousshipper]

Hi Omni!! I think it's been forever since I've sent a request!

How about a Shobbs ABO accidental Mpreg? Luke and Deckard have been hooking up for Deckard's heats and they get caught in the moment 😅 Later, Deckard realizes he's pregnant but doesn't tell Luke for a bit until he corners and questions him. It's a shock and Deckard is hesitant until they go for their first ultrasound! It all clicks about how real everything is! Cue supportive Luke!!!!

Ooooooo!! ABO and mpreg!! I love it!!

~~~

The sun was barely above the horizon when Luke opened his eyes and heard birds chirping outside his bedroom window. He tried to reach up and rub at his eyes when his arm was stopped in it's tracks.

Smiling, Luke knew exactly why.

Laying on his side, Deckard was shoved tightly against his chest. He was sleeping on Luke's left arm and had wrapped his own arm under Luke's right arm. They were thoroughly wrapped around each other.

Pulling his head back enough to look down at the sleeping omega, Luke nuzzled his face against Deckard's head.

He could smell the faint wisps of Deckard's heat, indicating it was finally over.

All around them was a nicely crafted nest of pillows and blankets. Some were originally from Luke's closet while the more expensive materials were bought by Deckard and brought out during his heats.

Luke still wasn't exactly sure when Deckard had decided to trust him enough to ask him to spend his heats with him.

It had been years since Luke had helped with someone's heat, but by the way Deckard limped afterwards with a satisfied smile, he knew he was doing a good job.

This was Deckard's fourth heat.

The first had happened when Luke was in London for a mission. He had been shocked Deckard even knew he was in town when he had gotten the call. After that, the next three were spent at Luke's as it was easier for him.

This also allowed Deckard to spend more time with Sam.

While Deckard had this outer tough guy persona, Luke knew he absolutely melted around children. Sam also picked up on this and swiftly had Deckard wrapped around her finger. Not that he minded in the least.

Luke wondered if maybe that was the reason Deckard had spent a month before his next heat with them.

"Mmmm."

Smiling, Luke held Deckard closer as he slowly woke up.

"Morning, princess. How are you feeling?"

"Good," he mumbled, shoving his face into Luke's chest.

"Want me to make you chocolate chip pancakes?"

"Yes."

Chuckling, Luke gave Deckard a quick kiss to the cheek before sliding out of bed.

Heats took everything out of Deckard, leaving him fatigued and like a zombie for a few days afterwards. Luke would never tell Deckard, but he loved these days the most.

He couldn't wait for Deckard's next heat.

---

The call never comes.

Luke is scared when the three month mark comes and goes, without a text or call from Deckard.

So far, Deckard's heats were on time. Every three months.

But not this time.

Then another month passes.

Nothing.

Luke tries texting Deckard but only receives short response, which made him panic even more.

Next, he calls Hattie, who assured him Deckard was alive and breathing.

This doesn't calm him in the least.

He asked her to check and see if his last heat went well, but all he got in response was a gagging noise. Hattie refused to talk to her brother about his heats. She told him to call Owen.

As soon as he did call Owen, all he got was laughter and a clipped "fuck you, Hobbs" before being blocked.

With his job and Sam, Luke's not able to up and travel to London whenever he wanted to. He continues to try and call Deckard, but the other dodges him.

This is how the next month goes until Mr. Nobody calls him and the Toretto crew up for a mission.

Somehow, he was able to get the Shaw Siblings to show up as well.

Luke knows somethings different even before he sees Deckard. He can identify the omega's scent rooms away and knows that it's different.

His normally bittersweet scent was sweeter and sharper.

When he does actually lay eyes on the omega, he can see other changes.

His skin looks healthier, almost glowing. Meanwhile, his sweater was large, almost baggy on him. Luke had never seen Deckard wear anything so loose-fitting when out in public. He only wore those clothes when lazying around the house.

Staring at Deckard, Luke saw his hand resting on his stomach, rubbing circles into it.

Was he sick?

He would have stood there staring at the omega all day if Dom had nudged him and told Mr. Nobody to start the meeting.

It feels like an eternity before the briefing is over and Mr. Nobody let's them go prepare however they want for the mission.

Luke is hot on Deckard's heels, who had nearly ran out the door.

He found Deckard in the bathroom, on his knees and emptying his stomach.

"Are you ok, Deck?" Luke doesn't hesitate to drop to his knees as well, rubbing down Deckard's back.

The omega is too busy dry heaving to do more than shake his head.

Luke desperately wants to do more for him, but there's not much he can do other than wait out the nausea.

When Deckard finally pulls away and wipes his mouth, he sways on his knees. Luke doesn't even think before wrapping his arms around the smaller and man, pulling him into his lap.

Deckard doesn't fight against his offered comfort, rather shoving himself further into Luke's body. A soft whine leaves him as he squeezes his eyes closed.

"What's going on, Deck? Why didn't you call me for your last heat?" Luke keeps his voice gentle.

"I didn't have a heat," Deckard grunted, voice scratchy.

"What do you mean? I thought you were regular?"

"I usually am," Deckard sighed. "I didn't have my last heat because I'm pregnant."

Luke blinked.

"What?"

"I must have forgotten my birth control during my last heat," Deckard explained, leaning his head on Luke's shoulder.

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say?"

"Give me a minute, would you? It's not every day I hear the might Deckard Shaw is knocked up with my kid."

Luke deserved the soft punch Deckard gives him for that remark.

---

Luke's able to convince Deckard to come back to his house, but has to agree with Owen and Hattie staying as well.

He would rather deal with a rabid raccoon than two overly protective Alpha siblings, but Deckard is firm. If it wasn't for the vulnerable look in his eyes, Luke would have refused. But, as Deckard stares up at him, almost begging, he relents.

The house nearly feels like a mine field whenever the three Alphas are in the same room, but neither Sam or Deckard care as they bond over Deckard's baby bump.

Luckily, Deckard's first ultrasound gets them out of the house before a fight can break out. Neither Owen nor Hattie are interested in going to the hospital and potentially seeing Deckard's naked belly. Luke was relieved to finally have Deckard all to himself.

"There they are!"

Holding Deckard's hand, Luke looked up at the screen and could barely make out a baby.

But there they were.

His baby.

His and Deckard's

"We made a baby..."

Deckard snorted.

"You're just figuring that out, jolly green?"

"It all feels more... real," Luke explains, ignoring the soft jab. "We're really having a kid."

"Uh, well..." The technician clears his throat.

A spike of worry goes through the couple as their heads whip around to stare at him.

"You're actually having twins," he smiled at them. "Here's the other one's head."

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!! Thanks for the prompt!