#and well live happily ever after for at least a few more months | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blackypanther9 · 9 months ago

Text

How M/n met Mimzy

WARNING!: Cursing, insulting words, threatening, Racist behavior (in memories), angst, Reader is supportive of Alastor, mention of drugging, poisoning, abuse AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

A/N: Remember it is only a fanfic and I just built in background ! Nothing is REAL nor intented to hurt anyone ! Picture belongs to rightful owner ! zeotropes0 The sick part is after the Mimzy part it starts at "M/n felt like utter shit."

TAGLIST!: @zoetropes0, @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved

Words: 7 365

It had been almost 3 years since M/n was living with Alastor. They formed a strong and very close bond too, in that short time. The Radio Host found it high time, that M/n met one of his close friends, Mimzy.

The boy was excited and nervous since Alastor informed him about that. That day was a Friday and the second week of the month in October. Alastor got Saturday and Sunday off from work and decided to meet up with Mimzy again.

“So...what are they like ?”, M/n asked his Father.

Alastor didn’t tell M/n that it was a girl. All he said was “a friend”.

“Oh, you’ll LOVE her, mon petit (My little one) ! She’s a real Sweetheart !”, Alastor replied happily.

M/n stopped dead in his tracks, of cleaning up his Dad’s office. He turned to him, stiffly.

“HER ?”, the boy repeated and stared at his Father, who just threw away packages of their lunches from the day.

“Yes indeedy ! You’ll love her ! And I’m sure she’ll love you as well !”

M/n suddenly didn’t feel too sure about that anymore. With his Dad’s new Boss, after Mr. Floyd was found dead in the park not far from here, he started to get very possessive and protective of his Father.

Miss Revonna Ducasse was her name. She constantly tried to get into his pants. M/n couldn’t really blame all the women that threw longing eyes at his Father. He looked handsome and well groomed, he was an absolute Goofball, he never complained about anything, he had manners, he had high morals, he was well raised despite his bad Childhood and he was an absolute charming Gentleman. There was nothing to hate about him. At least in M/n’s opinion.

Of course there were haters. The racists mostly. Because his Dad had a mixed skin color. What M/n loved most about his Dad was that he was a Creole. He spoke English and French. It gave him a slight accent in his voice, but Alastor always tried to suppress it, no one ever really heard his accent, not even M/n did. Why was Alastor hiding his New Orleans accent ?

Because he is ashamed to have it. His Father and a few kids in his school made fun out of him for a long time. His Father later on forced him to speak, what he considered, normally. His Mother was the only one that was still allowed to hear it, as she was still alive. After she died, he always suppressed it.

How did M/n know about his Father’s accent ? Well...let’s just say a lot of people have it around and it confused the boy greatly, until Alastor explained it to him. He knew that his Father was born and raised here, so M/n came to the simple conclusion that he suppressed his accent, for whatever reason. M/n pestered him about it once and Alastor spilled the tea.

Why did M/n not have that accent ? His birth parents and Sister didn’t have that accent. He supposed they came from a different state and then just moved here. After all...Alastor had to teach M/n French, to understand his Dad and to communicate with him, when he doesn’t want anyone else to know, what they are discussing.

M/n was not as thrilled anymore, to meet his Dad’s friend. It was a girl. YUCK !

“Are you sure you can trust her, Papa ?”, M/n asked gently.

He turned to his Son.

“Of course I am sure, Cher !”, he said, surprised that his Son seemed to not like the idea as much anymore.

M/n bit his lip and only nodded gently.

“Parle-t-elle français ? (Does she speak French ?)”, M/n asked.

“Elle le fait un peu. (She does a bit.)”

So M/n can’t converse with his Dad in French...great...

“Applesauce.”, M/n cursed in a huff.

Alastor looked at his Son in slight concern. Why was he so annoyed suddenly ?

“What seems to be the Problem, Son ?”, he asked gently.

“I don’t like that she can partly understand and speak French. I hate it when people understand what we converse. What if there is something I want to tell you and she is not supposed to hear it ? I will have to wait until we are home and who knows what could have happened until then !”, the boy stressed.

Alastor gave him a confused look.

“What are you implying, mon petit ?”

M/n looked at his Father, as if he was the most stupid man on earth.

“With all due respect, Papa...HAVE YOU LOOKED AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR ?!”, M/n yelled and wildly pointed all over Alastor’s figure.

The Radio Host grew insecure about his form. What was his Son trying to get across ?

M/n saw insecurity creeping into his Father and he huffed. He approached his Father, snatched his hand in a tight grip and dragged him away, to the men bathroom. He locked the door behind himself and then pushed Alastor in front of the full body mirror.

The Radio Host could see his Son’s glare, arms crossed over his chest. Even though he was soon a 9 year old boy, he seemed very wise.

“What do you see, and do not DARE to lie to me.”, M/n said.

Alastor looked into the mirror, nervously.

“Uhm...What...am I supposed to see, Cher ?”

M/n face palmed.

“Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see, when you look at yourself. Applesauce, Father !”, M/n cursed with a slight glare.

Alastor did and memories came crashing back down on him. His smile wavered.

“Look at you ! Disgusting ! Look how brown you are !”

“Eww ! Why is he so dark ?!”

“Freak !”

“Just as disgusting as your Mother ! I knew it was a stupid idea to marry that Bitch and have a brat like you with her !”

“He needs a bath to wash the color off of his skin !”

_________________

Children pushed him into the mud and “Bathed” him to be browner.

“Let’s bathe him in mud, so he will get darker ! Hahahaha !”

“Stop it ! Please, stop it !”, his younger self sobbed out.

He couldn’t control how he came out. Why was he punished for this ? Why did color of skin matter ?!

_________________

His Father threw him onto the ground outside, onto small stones. His grin was sinister.

“Come on, Brat. You need a bath.”

His child self sobbed, staring at his Father in fear. His own Father...

The man grabbed small stones in his hands, snatched his younger self’s left arm and started to roughly rub the stones on his skin. Causing the boy to cry and his skin to split open. He tried to pull it away.

“Maybe you are lighter underneath once this disgusting layer is off !”, the man mocked the boy.

“Dad ?”

“Rub it off !”

The boy tried to fight his Father off.

“Papa ?!”

“RuB iT oFf !”

He continued to fight him, yelling and screaming in pain, but the man didn’t stop.

“Papa !”

“RUB IT OFF !”

There was so much pain and blood-

“PAPA !!!”

Alastor jolted out of his memories with a flinch. He looked at M/n from the mirror, who had wide eyes of worry and fear. Unshed tears stood in the boy’s eyes, which confused Alastor, until he looked at himself in the mirror.

His smile was gone, his fingers were digging into his arms, which were in front of his chest and tears were running down his cheeks. He was in every aspect...NOT alright. He jolted in surprise as something collided with his legs and waist. He looked down and saw his Son, hugging him tightly.

He released his hold on his arms and ran his right hand through his Son’s hair, gently.

“I see a dark skin colored man, with a weak figure and he has silly little tantrums over nothing.”, Alastor answered softly.

That’s how he really felt, since his own Father hated him. He was the hated child since he was born. The only one who loved him...was his Mother.

M/n squeezed his Father’s legs, before he let go.

“That is not true at all, Papa.”

“You wanted me to tell you what I see. I see just that when I see...myself.”

Alastor yelped in surprise as he felt a smack on his ass, a harsh one. He looked at his Son in the mirror, M/n’s eyes gave him a harsh stare back.

“Well then, here is what me and many others see, you absolute Dumbo !”

Alastor felt slightly insulted, but kept it in for now.

“I see a very charismatic man, he is charming, sweet, gentle, understanding, has a big heart, loves to do his job, loves to help, hates people with bad manners and he is so much more showing into the open world. The man, me and many others see, is handsome, a Gentleman, looks always well groomed, he is an absolute Goofball, he never complains about anything, he has manners, he has high morals, he was well raised despite his bad Childhood and he is an absolute Sweetheart.”, M/n listed off.

Alastor’s eyes were wide in shock and awe. That’s how his Son saw him ?

“You always dress properly, you always talk politely, you never show your annoyance, whatever you do, you do it politely. You barely lie, you take care of the people you care about and it is easy to make friends with you. You are easy to approach and talk to. You can make someone feel very welcomed and listened to. Not many have these traits, Papa. All in all...you are true Husband material. You scream ravishing and sexy no matter where you are.”, M/n continued.

The Radio Host looked at M/n from the mirror, while he eyed himself too. He never saw the appeals. If M/n points all that out though...he had a point.

“Where are you going with this, Cher ?”, Alastor asked gently.

“What I am getting at is that a lot of women are attracted to you and would do anything to get into your bed ! You scream sexy ! I don’t want you to think that girl pals will suddenly be happy, with you just being their friend ! Stay alerted ! Friends like that could easily use you ! I want what is best for you and I saw many women and even a few men eye you like candy in a store !”, M/n yelled at him frustrated.

At that Alastor turned around and actually looked at his Son. Was that all ? M/n was worried about him ? Overprotective ? He gave his Son a small smile.

“Are you worried about me or jealous that you could lose all my attention ?”, he asked his Son.

“I am concerned for you, Dad. Miss Ducasse already tried multiple times to get into your pants, claiming that she was your Boss and you have to listen to her. Do you really think I would not hear that Blueberry juice ?”, he asked him stressed out.

Alastor’s smile wavered. Ah yes...Ducasse tried to force him into sexual activity with herself, by threatening to fire him. Since then M/n was most of the times with him and if he wasn’t one of his coworkers waited for him to arrive and be by his side at all times. He still had no idea how they knew.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and gave his Son a big smile.

“Don’t worry about me, Cher ! Nothing bad will happen !”, he assured him.

Then he looked at his watch and tutted.

“We have to hurry, otherwise we will be late to meet up with her !”

With that he unlocked and opened the door. M/n followed behind his Father. He had a BAD gut feeling about this...

And his gut was NEVER wrong before.

-Time skip-

They finally arrived at their destination, which was a bar. M/n looked around in nerves and Alastor led him to a table. It was close to a small stage in the bar and M/n felt even worse in his gut. He looked around, nervously.

“Relax, Cher ! Nothing bad will happen here.”, the Radio Host assured the boy with a smile.

Then a waitress came and asked for their orders. Alastor ordered himself a New Orleans Sazerac and for M/n a nonalcoholic orange juice. She noted it all down and then left to get them their drinks.

Suddenly music started and the stage lit up. Alastor had a big smile on his face and looked at the stage. M/n turned and looked too, soon enough there was a woman. She was a bit on the shorter size, she started to sing. M/n didn’t like her voice all that much...

It was a good song, but the woman’s voice just didn’t really fit for it. But as he looked at his Father, he only saw him smile and enjoy the show.

‘How can he like the song with this voice ?’

Soon enough their drinks arrived and Alastor was casually sipping his New Orleans Sazerac. M/n didn’t touch his juice and looked at the female, singing. He scoffed in his mind, knowing he could do better with his kid voice. He can sing his Father’s favorite song without any help and would sing better than her.

‘This is gonna be a loooong night...’, M/n groaned annoyed in his mind.

He looked at his happy Father again. He didn’t glare at him, but he would so love to at the moment.

‘The things I do for him...He better be happy for the rest of this week, otherwise I will NEVER come here with him again. This is pushing my patience...This woman is NOT my cup of tea...’

-An hour later-

The show was over, finally.

‘Finally ! I thought I will die soon enough !’

Some songs were alright, with that voice of the woman, but most of them didn’t really...get the glory and appreciation with that voice. In his eyes it sounded like a woman’s voice trying too hard to fit with every song. In some it just...didn’t sound good. That so many clapped at that, his own adoptive Father included, is beyond him.

What M/n couldn’t help with though...was questioning himself with where his Father’s girl buddy was. She is an hour late. Did his Dad lie to him, to go drinking ? He had his second New Orleans Sazerac and M/n had his fifth orange juice.

Ten minutes passed as suddenly the same voice, from the woman on the stage from before, called out Alastor’s name. M/n snapped his head around and stared at the woman, that approached their table with a smile. He looked at his Father and his eyes almost bulged out of his skull, his old man was smiling at her and waved her over.

‘Oh HELL NO.’

M/n slumped his shoulders for three seconds then sat back up properly and looked at her.

“Hello, dear Mimzy !”, Alastor greeted happily.

Alastor waited for her to approach and then she sat down on the chair next to Alastor, practically in front of M/n. He fought very hard the glare he wanted to send her and looked at his Dad instead. He looked at his Son in return, with a bright smile.

“M/n, this lovely woman is Mimzy. Mimzy, this is my Son, M/n.”, he introduced the two of them.

She gave the boy a smile and waved at him.

“Hello there, little one. Nice to meet you.”, she greeted warmly.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Mimzy.”, M/n politely greeted back, a smile on his face.

He knew women like Mimzy. She was just putting up a show right now. She was NOT friendly. Alastor chuckled and emptied his glass again, then stood up, looking at them both.

“I need to use the restroom. Please do get acquainted, you two.”, Alastor encouraged them, then left.

“Be careful, Papa !”, M/n called after him.

“I will be, Cher !”, Alastor replied and then was gone.

M/n turned to Mimzy and as expected...she glared at him.

“So you are the little runt, Al took in out of pity.”, she snarled.

M/n glared back at her.

“Excuse you ? What did you fucking call me, bitch ?”, the soon to be nine year old asked darkly.

“Oh and such bad manners towards a Lady too. How disgusting.”, she said with an insulted voice.

“I’m not a mirror, woman. You called me a fucking runt. Do you really expect me to still be polite, when you can’t be polite towards me ? You want my respect ? Fucking earn it.”, M/n growled out with a death glare.

“Respect your elders, you rude brat.”, she scoffed.

“Respect your next generation, if you still want the world to turn, after your departure, disgusting, foul, bitch. Your future is in OUR hands. The next generation’s hands.”, M/n spat.

She glared harshly at him, which didn’t intimidate M/n. He stayed strong and didn’t look away at all. Staring contest ? You are on, Mimzy.

“I will tell you how this will go now, brat. I want you gone, away from MY Alastor, in a week. You aren’t until then, I will make him get rid of you.”, she threatened M/n.

The boy scoffed.

“For what do you take me for ? A stupid child ? Listen here whore, my Father doesn’t belong to you, he doesn’t even belong to me. I belong to HIM. Big difference, sugar cube. Alastor OWNS me. You want to own him and I won’t let that happen. Curl up and die, bitch.”, M/n told her darkly and gave her the finger.

“What would Alastor just think, if he hears about this, hmm ?”, she asked with a grin, thinking she had the upper hand.

M/n smirked back.

“What would Papa think, if he finds out what kind of bitch his friend is, hmm ? He believes me everything, because I never lie. He KNOWS he can trust my words more than anyone’s.”, he countered.

Her eyes grew wide at that. Her face turned red and the soon to be 9 year old could see how angered she was at that. Then M/n saw his Father return and pretended like nothing happened. He gave Mimzy a subtle smirk, only she could see and then a wink. She scowled.

“So, what have I missed, you two ?”, Alastor asked happily as he sat back down.

M/n looked at his Father with a big smile.

“Not much. Can I have another glass of Orange juice, please, Papa ?”, M/n asked with a smile.

Alastor smiled warmly at his Son, thinking he warmed up to Mimzy, and nodded. He called over a waitress and asked for a glass of whiskey and a glass of orange juice. After the waitress left, Alastor suggested that Mimzy would talk about her life a bit, before she came here as performer.

With that they stayed for at least another hour, listening to Mimzy’s life story, which didn’t interest M/n at all, after the stunt she pulled. He just wanted to get out and never come back, with his Father in tow.

M/n gave Mimzy very little information about himself, which Alastor respected. It took M/n a bit, to warm up to him too. After it was starting to get really late for M/n, in Alastor’s opinion, he decided to pay for the drinks he and his Son had, to say Goodbye and then he went home with M/n.

“So, how was she, Cher ?”

‘An absolute self centered, needy, bratty Bitch...’

“She was alright, I guess. I still need time to connect to her, but I think we will get there, Papa.”, M/n lied easily.

For Alastor, the boy didn’t speak his mind. He wants to keep his Father safe and sheltered, but he doesn’t want to see him sad either, so he will not tell him that they both hate each other and they insulted one another.

“That’s good news, mon petit !”, the Radio Host replied happily, unaware of what really happened.

As they arrived home, Alastor quickly got to cooking a warm meal and M/n went to his room and started to get dressed into his Pyjamas. He washed his hands and growled. The last glass of Orange juice tasted weird. Mimzy brought it. Did she spike it ?

“I swear if this hoe spiked my drink...I will go fucking wild...”, he growled under his breath.

After a few minutes, Alastor called M/n down for Dinner, which he quickly sat down for. Together they ate their meal and then went to bed. M/n promised to wash the dishes tomorrow morning for him.

-The next day-

M/n felt like utter shit. He twisted in bed, didn’t want to get up either. His stomach was doing flips and it was hurting. Mimzy did put something in his drink then...

The door opened to his room.

“Mon petit~! Wake up, rise and shine !”, Alastor cheerily called.

He had a bright smile on his face, but it weakened as he heard his Son groan weakly. M/n never did that, he always got up and greeted him with a yawn. He opened the curtains for the windows and then approached the bed, with M/n inside it. He knelt down and looked at the boy’s face, which was hidden in the blanket.

“Cher ? What’s wrong ?”, he asked worried.

M/n couldn’t speak. He was afraid to throw up if he did. He waved his hands slowly around and tried to communicate with his Dad like that, but Alastor didn’t understand anything. Why was he waving his hands slowly, instead of talking ?

The boy got tears in his eyes. He wanted to speak, but he felt too on edge of throwing up, to do so. He pointed to his desk. It took Alastor a bit to understand what he wanted him to do, but he turned to the desk.

“You want me at your desk ?”, he asked his Son and looked at him.

A thumbs up.

Alastor got up and went to it.

“What now, Cher ?”

M/n made a motion for his note book and a pen, then motioned a writing motion carefully.

“You want me to get your note book and a pen ?”

Thumbs up.

Alastor grabbed the items and then returned to his Son’s side. M/n VERY carefully sat up and took the items, his teeth clenched shut and Alastor saw how pale his Son was. He slowly wrote into the note book. As he finished he gave his Father the book to read.

I don’t feel good. Feel like vomiting and my stomach is all over the place.

He looked at his Son and gave the book back to him.

“Do you know what caused it ?”, he asked.

Again M/n wrote then gave it back to Alastor.

I think it was the last glass of orange juice. Tasted different than the other glasses I had.

His eyes widened at that and he rushed down the stairs as fast as possible, almost falling over his own feet twice. He ripped up his phone and quickly called his house Doctor. He picked up quickly and answered.

“Mr. Hugo, I think my nine year old Son got drugged yesterday ! What shall I do ?!”, Alastor panicked.

On the other line the man replied and asked questions.

“I don’t know ! He said the last orange juice he had yesterday evening tasted funny ! All he had after that was Dinner, but he didn’t complain ! His face was only scrunched up with the last glass of orange juice ! He feels like throwing up and his stomach is all over the place !”

He was silent again, worried sick. What if his Son will die ?! No, no, no ! He can’t think like that !

“Alright ! I will do that ! Thank you ! I will see you there !”

He hung up and hurried to get ready to leave the house, then he rushed to his Son’s room, who laid back down and was confused. Alastor picked him up, bridal style and still wrapped up in his blanket, then he went out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house and put M/n into his car, in the back.

Then he closed the car door and rushed back into the house. He got a bucket for his Son and then he got a few clothes for M/n packed, then he rushed back out, locked the house door, jumped into his car, started the engine and drove off.

“We are driving to the hospital, M/n. Hold on and try to not puke.”, Alastor said with a frightened voice.

The boy felt bad for worrying his Dad and slowly lifted his arm, showing a thumb up. Alastor hurried over to the hospital quickly and there his house doctor already stood. Dr. Hugo. The Radio Host stopped the car, turned off the engine, unlocked the car and then jumped out, while the doctor also rushed to the car.

Alastor carefully got out his Son from the back and then turned to Dr. Hugo. He looked at M/n’s pale face and took a sharp inhale.

“This pale skin is NOT normal, not even for sick kids. Follow me, Mr. Hazbin.”, Dr. Hugo said and rushed into the hospital.

Alastor locked up his car and ran after his doctor, with M/n in his arms.

“I need an empty room ! We need to pump out a little boy’s stomach ASAP !”, Mr. Hugo yelled.

Nurses and other doctors rushed around at that and the three were led into an empty patient room. Alastor put him down on the table and Dr. Hugo was about to shoo him out, but he saw how tightly M/n held his Father.

M/n was scared shitless. He had no idea what was going on and Alastor was the only one, he could trust and he knew him best. Everything went too fast, too much stress at once, he was so scared. He didn’t want his Father to leave.

Alastor looked down at his Son and saw that M/n was so scared that he even let tears fall. His plea was obvious.

He wanted him to stay by his side.

He turned to Mr. Hugo, who sighed and pulled up a chair, for the Radio Host to sit down on. He sat down and held his Son’s hand the whole time, while the nurses and Dr. Hugo worked on M/n.

Alastor himself had a few tears in his eyes. How could he let this happen to his Son ?! Whoever drugged M/n...will PAY. Not his child. No one hurts HIS child and gets away with it !

-Time skip-

M/n was passed out on the bed, he was moved onto, after they pumped out his stomach. Right now, the remains, which were in M/n’s stomach, were in the lab. Alastor sat next to his Son on the bed, watching over him. Some color returned to his Son’s face at least. That was a positive thing. At least that was what Dr. Hugo said.

The door opened again and Alastor’s head snapped up, spotting his house doctor.

“What did you find ?”, the Radio Host asked softly.

The doctor sighed and leaned against the closed door.

“You are lucky that you have such a fighter, for a Son, Mr. Hazbin. M/n should be dead already.”, the man informed.

The Radio Host’s eyes widened, in horror.

“Wh-what ?”

“It was a very high overdose on painkillers. It should have killed him overnight, but he made it through until now. And color seems to return to his face just fine now, so he survived it closely. Just throwing up...wouldn’t have solved it. The stomach pumping was his salvation. Good quick thinking.”

He looked at his Son in horror. Someone wanted to KILL him !

“W-was it...in the orange juice ?”, Alastor shakily asked.

“It was, I’m afraid.”, Dr. Hugo confirmed with a sigh.

That solved it then. No more going to the bar for a while. If Mimzy wants to meet up with him again, she will have to come and visit him, no more bars for a while.

“As soon as he wakes up we will run a few tests and determine if he can go back home. He will be very weak and have a weakened Immune System for a few days. He needs a lot of bed rest and he will need a lot of help, moving to the bathroom and such.”

“I can take care of that, if he is allowed back home. I just need a sick leave for my Job and then I can take full care of my Son.”, Alastor replied.

He will always be there for M/n, no matter what.

The doctor nodded and left.

-Time skip-

M/n woke up a while ago, had all the tests run on him and was allowed to return home. Dr. Hugo himself said that he will send the sick leave, for the Radio Host, to his workplace, himself.

Alastor brought him to bed and covered him in the blanket properly, then opened the boy’s bedroom window, to let fresh air inside.

“Papa...?”, M/n called out weakly.

Alastor turned around, looking at M/n with a small smile.

“Yes, mon petit ?”

“Are...are you mad at me...?”

It shocked the man. Why would his Son think that ?

“Why would you think that, Son ? No, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be ? You should be mad at me, for letting this happen to you, in the first place.”

M/n gave him a soft smile.

“You couldn’t have known. I never blamed you in the first place. I should have told you the juice tasted off as soon as I tasted it...”, the boy said, fumbling with his fingers.

“It’s alright, Cher. Now we need to focus on getting you back to health. A lot of chicken soup, vitamin juices and herbal teas will do the trick in no time.”

M/n gave his Father a smile. It was weak, but he tried and Alastor appreciated the effort. He ran his hand through his Son’s hair with a soft smile.

“Now get some more rest. I will wake you up, when the food is done cooking. Deal ?”

M/n gave the adult a big smile.

“Deal. Don’t hurt yourself on accident, Papa. I love you.”

Alastor’s smile became brighter. His Son really cared about him.

“I’ll be careful, Cher. I love you too. Now get some rest.”

With that Alastor left the room and went into the kitchen. He left M/n’s bedroom door ajar, in case M/n needed something. Then he got, quickly, to cooking his Mother’s infamous chicken soup.

As the soup was done, Alastor prepared two bowls with it and then carried them up the stairs. He almost dropped the bowls, as he saw his Son standing on badly shaking legs. He rushed to M/n’s desk, put the two bowls down and then returned to his child’s side, quickly.

“What were you thinking ? Mon petit, you are far too weakened to move on your own.”, Alastor scolded softly.

“S-sorry, Papa. I just wanted to go to the Bathroom and I didn’t want to bother you. I thought I will be able to make it alone...”, M/n replied softly.

The Radio Host sighed softly. He forgot that M/n was very selfless and never wants to bother him with small things the boy can deal with alone. He lend the small boy his arm, which the child took as support.

“Now then, let’s get you to the Bathroom, Cher.”

“O-okay, Papa.”

With Alastor’s help, M/n was guided to the Bathroom, that was connected with his Bedroom. He let the boy support himself from the sink to the toilet, then he closed the door.

“Tell me when you are done, Cher. Then we can eat.”

“I will, Papa. Thank you.”

“No problem, mon petit.”

Alastor waited at the door. He heard his Son flush the toilet and not long later the water running in the sink. He washed his hands then.

“I’m done, Dad.”, M/n said softly as the water was off again.

Alastor opened the door and then reached out his arm again. M/n grabbed it tightly and then he was led back to bed. The Father helped to cover the boy in his blankets again and then he went to fetch the bowls. M/n sat up comfortably, while Alastor sat next to him, on his bed, to the right side.

“Bon apetit, Cher.”, the man said.

“Bon apetit, Papa.”, the boy repeated.

Together they dug into their soup and the boy hummed, loving the taste.

“This tastes awesome, Dad ! How did you make it ?”, M/n asked in wonder, eating another spoonful after he asked.

Alastor chuckled lightly, a fond smile on his face.

“My Mother made a recipe for a good chicken soup. Sadly...it doesn’t taste as good as when she made it. I...always seem to miss something to add into it.”

M/n looked at his Father. He rarely heard about his Grandma.

“How was Grandma ? What was she like ?”, the boy asked.

Alastor looked at him, contemplating if the boy was ready to hear of her. He shook his head.

“Another time, Cher.”

“Dad, come on ! You told me a bit about her already. Why not more ? You clearly loved her a lot ! Was she really THAT bad ?”, M/n asked.

His head whipped around quickly, to look at his Son.

“She was NOT bad !”, Alastor yelled, slightly angered.

The boy flinched, but didn’t back down.

“Then why do you not want to share with me anything about her ?! I am YOUR SON, Dad ! She would be basically my Grandma !”

Alastor looked away after a while of seeing his Son frustrated with his closed off behavior.

“It...is hard to talk about her with others, Cher. I don’t tell everyone how my Family used to be.”, Alastor replied.

“I understand that, Papa. I really do, but I am Family too, aren’t I ? I am your child. Do I not deserve to know how my Grandparents used to be ? I already missed the opportunity to meet them in person. I can only hope for stories from you now.”

His Son had a point and the Radio Host knew that. He sighed and had a soft smile on his face. He knew it might fade soon, but...M/n was Family. He can let his charade drop around him.

“My Mother...Your Mummo (Grandma), was a very kind and caring soul. She loved to cook, she always knew how to cheer me up and she taught me everything I know, to be a Gentleman.”

M/n just looked at him, as his Father opened up about his Mother, eating his soup slowly. VERY slowly.

“She never had much problems with what I did. There were simple, loose rules in the house. Don’t curse, don’t yell in the house, arms off of the table when you eat, sit straight, respect your elders, no running in the house, don’t lie to Momma and no pets. I always kept to the rules, my Mom put up. I never yelled at her, I never hurt her on purpose and I always listened.”

M/n grew concerned. It seemed like his Father was out of the picture...

“What about your...Father ?”

Alastor tensed, but sighed and tried to relax.

“You are too young to hear everything about that man yet, but...he was NOT a good man, mon petit.”

At that M/n grew worried.

“What...what did he do to you two ?”, he asked worried.

Alastor looked at his Son, smile gone and a certain darkness in his eyes, dancing around like a wild fire.

“Whenever he came home...he usually had bad, stressful days and couldn’t get drunk and cheat on my Mother.”

‘So a drinking, cheating Bastard...’

“When he came home in such moods...there were more rules.”

“Like ?”

“Do not speak unless spoken to, you eat what was on the table, do not engage with him unless he starts to engage with you, you are not allowed to leave the table until he said you can or left himself first, you are not allowed to give him any attitude either and you are not allowed to say no to him. He wants you to get him a beer, you will get it, otherwise...”, Alastor cut himself off.

M/n stared at his Father in horror.

“You are NOT telling me that he was abusive, are you ?”

Alastor looked into his soup, head hanging low.

“That is exactly what I am telling you, Cher.”, he weakly replied.

‘Holy shit... we actually have something in common, just that he had a loving Mom by his side and I only had my Sister.’

The Radio Host took a deep breath. M/n gave him his full attention.

“He wanted me to act like him. Abusive, towards women and lesser people. He said if someone comes at me with attitude, I give it back to them, while my Mother said that is NOT how I should behave. When my Father was out of the house, my Mother taught me how to be a Gentleman. When he noticed what she was doing, that she taught me everything I needed to know and do one day, for myself, he forced me into other activities with him. I made a small mistake...well, I think you can guess the outcome.”, Alastor told him dully.

M/n stared at him, mouth agape. He always thought that at least his Family was great, when he was a child.

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BEG YOUR OWN PARENTS TO NOT STOP BEING YOUR PARENTS ! YOU WEREN’T BLAMED FOR YOUR SISTER’S DEATH ! YOU WEREN’T BEATEN AND ABUSED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO HAVE A FEELING TO ALWAYS TRY TO BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR THEM SO THEY WILL ACCEPT YOU ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SLEEP OUTSIDE AND STARVE ! YOU WEREN’T ABANDONED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO SEE YOUR OWN SISTER’S CONDITIONS WHEN SHE CAME HOME WOUNDED BADLY AND YOU HAD TO TAKE CARE OF HER AND LISTEN TO HER TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HOW THEY BEAT YOUR SISTER IN SCHOOL AND NO ONE CARED! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HER GETTING TAKEN BY SOME PERVERTED FREAKS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO FIND HER LIKE THIS THE NEXT DAY AND FIND OUT THAT THESE SICK FUCKS ARE STILL OUT THERE ! I DID ! I HAD TO ! WHILE NO ONE ELSE NEEDED TO BE PERFECT FOR THEIR PARENTS, I HAD TO BE THAT AND SO MUCH MORE !”

M/n looked down in shame as he remembered that day. He judged his Father way too quickly. Just because he seemed happy all the time, didn’t that mean that he really was. His childhood wasn’t rainbows and sunshine either.

He might not have been forced to beg both parents to not stop loving him, but he had to practically endure his Father’s torture. He didn’t have to see a sibling getting hurt all the time, but he probably was forced to see his Mother getting hurt a lot. He was beaten and bruised as a child, just as his Mother was probably. The worst was...it happened at home, a place you were supposed to be safest. His Mother might have confided in him and he probably saw her crumbling a lot. Just as M/n had to see Linda crumble apart all the time and it was up to him, to get her back up. Alastor and M/n had something in common. Shit parents. At least...shit Fathers, in Alastor’s case.

The boy put the empty bowl on the nightstand and then hugged his Father tightly, who took a deep inhale.

“I’m sorry I asked. But, if it helps, he is gone now. No more pain and torture.”, the child said softly.

Alastor chuckled weakly and put his hand on top of M/n’s smaller ones, that were on his stomach, wrapped around.

“Yes, he is gone now. Anyways !”

And the switch flipped again. M/n found it amusing nowadays. Alastor can change the mood so quickly...

“My Mother she cooked the best foods ever ! Jambalaya was one of the best ! I always helped her in the kitchen and cooked with her, when I could ! She was such a loving person, you would have LOVED her ! There were a few times she scolded me, but it wasn’t often. Without her...I would never be the person I am today, mon petit.”

M/n smiled at that and hugged his Father tighter, while Alastor finally ate the rest of his own soup. After he made sure that they both were full, he collected the bowls and brought them into the kitchen. He entered his Son’s room again, with a bright smile on his face.

“Now, you better take a nap, Cher. The more you sleep and drink, the faster you will be better !”, the Father said happily.

“Papa ?”, M/n called softly.

Alastor stopped dead in his tracks, as he was about to leave. He turned back around, looking at the boy.

“Yes, mon petit ?”

“Can you...tell me a Story to fall asleep to ? I don’t care which.”

Alastor put his finger on his chin, pretending to think about it.

“Hmmm....Oh, alright then. But only one.”, the adult replied.

M/n smiled and nodded. Only one.

Alastor sat down next to his Son, on his bed, and started to tell the story about the wolf and the seven little goats.

As he finished, his Son was fast asleep and Alastor left, smiling softly. It felt good to confide in his child about his past. He thought it would feel...bad. Like a forbidden thing to do. Maybe...he will take M/n to his Mother’s grave soon. He deserved that kind of closure. But for now...Alastor has to help his child back on his little feet.

He will kill whoever poisoned his Son, as soon as he finds them.

Over the days, M/n quickly regained his strength. But while he was sick, he gave Alastor a hard time keeping up. At some nights, M/n woke up and needed the Bathroom. The Radio Host was a light sleeper, so imagine his fright when he jumped out of sleep, due to a loud thump, coming from his Son’s room, only to find him hissing in pain on the floor.

He quickly noticed that his Son hated to bother him with such small things. He wanted to move on his own and didn’t want his Father to feel forced to care for M/n, like he was a newborn fawn, that still needs to learn how to walk.

Most food M/n consumed, but some of the dishes, Alastor cooked, made M/n feel sick, so the adult was mindful of what he cooked. It wasn’t his Son’s fault, that his body recovered like that. He will be back to normal soon enough, was all they both always thought. And in less than a week, he was completely fine again.

Alastor had to scold him a lot for trying to walk on his own, after he continuously fell on his face anyways, but otherwise, M/n didn’t put up much of a fight.

What the man didn’t know, was that M/n knew who poisoned him and he was giving that person a lesson to learn from one day.

The audacity of that bitch...

Masterlist HERE !

#Read the warnings above #male!reader #fanfiction #Hazbin Hotel #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #Father!Alastor x Son!Reader #How M/n met Mimzy – Father!Human!Alastor x Son!Reader

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five-and-dimes · 2 months ago

Text

Every Hand to Hold

For the Dreaming Bingo prompt: Threesome

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Dream/Hob/Calliope

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: Immortal Throuple, hurt/comfort, miscommunications, Dream's terrible horrible no good self esteem, happy ending

Summary: Inspired by this post from @cuubism (specifically her tags) that my brain then fully ran away with. Dream thinks it's wild that two separate gorgeous brunettes decided to start hooking up with him, but he's not complaining, even if he does get a little more heartbroken than he should when they both stop seeing him within a week of each other.

Read on AO3

It started with Calliope.

Dream had been wandering aimlessly in a small, secondhand bookstore when he had turned the corner and crashed into a woman with her arms so full of books she could barely see over them. Mortified, Dream had apologized and immediately began gathering up the books she had dropped, all of them either poetry collections or textbooks on the history of poetry. He had shyly inquired about her selections, and she had happily spoken at length about all of them, Dream immediately enamored with her passion and intelligence. She said her name was Calliope, and then she had dragged Dream into a small storage closet and pushed him to his knees.

And then a week later, he had met Hob. Dream had been sitting in the park, quietly feeding the birds, when a handsome man had sauntered over and asked if the seat next to him was taken. His boldness was startling, the way he sprawled next to Dream and kept an easy conversation going even as Dream fumbled. He had a warmth about him, a bright laugh that never felt like it was directed at Dream, and it had been a shock when, despite the long list of things Dream knew he had gotten wrong during their interaction, Hob had leaned forward and grinned.

“So. Your place or mine?”

Dream lived closer.

It all seemed to happen so fast. Dream was no stranger to the occasional one night stand, something quick and simple to ease his loneliness for even a moment, but never had he been propositioned by two beautiful people in such quick succession. And he’d certainly never had people want to see him again. He had been so flattered when Calliope had asked for his number, and even more so when she actually used it, asking if they could meet again, preferably in an actual bed this time. Hob had left his own number on Dream’s nightstand, and Dream had felt foolishly optimistic when he texted him to let him know Dream’s number as well, but he was glad he did when Hob texted back a few days later, wanting to fool around again. While he had long given up on the hope of ever being relationship material, he thought he could handle some simple hookups.

Apparently he was wrong.

Dream never had the courage to text either of them first, but at least once a week one of them invited themselves over and Dream would clear his schedule. They were both confident and clear about what they wanted, and Dream felt such relief at how easy they made it for him. He didn’t have to guess and worry about getting it wrong- all he had to do was go where their hands guided him. It was simple. He would bend over backwards to make them happy, give them anything and everything they could possibly want from him, because even if they never stayed long, it was enough that they kept coming back. He just wanted them to keep coming back.

After almost two months, Dream had been typing and retyping a message to Hob, trying to ask if maybe sometime they could grab a drink before going to bed together. Even if Dream wasn’t cut out for a romantic relationship, maybe he could at least convince Hob to a friends-with-benefits situation? He thought maybe he could be good enough to be called a friend. And Hob was so kind to him.

Before he has a chance to hit send though, Hob texts him first.

Hey, I’m sorry, but I don’t think we should meet up anymore. Thanks for all the fun times though!

Dream feels his heart sink.

Is everything alright?

What happened?

What did I do wrong?

Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you

Please

I don’t want to be alone anymore

He types, and deletes, and types, and deletes, and ignores the way his vision blurs.

Okay

He puts his phone on silent, but it doesn’t matter. Hob never responds.

A few days later, he decides that he must be brave quicker this time. So he steels himself, and texts Calliope to ask if she would like to join him at a poetry reading the local library was putting on.

As friends, he is quick to add on. He would not dare to reach for more than that. He does not think he is being unreasonable though. Calliope likes poetry, is a writer herself, and at a reading she will not even have to worry about dealing with Dream’s stilted attempts at conversation. They can simply sit silently together, and enjoy other people’s words, and she can put his mouth to better uses afterwards. It’s perfect.

I don’t think that’s a good idea

Dream wants to cry. He is mid apology, typing rapidly about how he did not mean to overstep, they could just keep their current arrangement, it’s fine, really. But another message comes through before he has a chance to send it.

I don’t think we should see each other at all anymore

He stares at the message for what feels like ages, his own rambling words still sitting uselessly in the text box. Finally, he deletes his reply slowly, typing a new response.

I understand.

He doesn’t though. He really, really, doesn’t.

It’s not like Dream isn’t used to being dumped- most people grew sick of him and his flaws eventually. But he had thought he was at least a good enough lay for them to stick around for a little longer. He had tried so hard not to let too much of his undesirable qualities show during their nights together, and they had always seemed more than satisfied with his performance in bed. So where did he go wrong?

Maybe they could just… tell. Maybe they could sense each time he touched them that he was putting too much of his heart into it, that he was too attached, too desperate, too hungry for more.

He recalls the way his sibling had laughed at him when he had stated that he had given up on dating.

“Please,” they had drawled, “You’ll always be going after someone. You bleed neediness. Sometimes I think you’ll stain my couch with it.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe Calliope and Hob had grown tired of having to wash off his desperation after each encounter. After all, it was just supposed to be casual sex, and here he was, nursing a heart broken twice over, proving them all right. He had no one to blame but himself.

It wasn’t a breakup. He hadn’t been together with either of them, not in any way that truly mattered. He couldn’t tell his sister, or one of his few friends, why he was even more morose than usual. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to explain that he kept checking his phone, didn’t want to make plans or go out just in case one of them changed their mind and contacted him, wanted to be available just in case either of them decided they weren’t done with him yet?

He allowed himself a few weeks to wallow, to mourn, and then, as much as a petulant part of him didn’t want to, Dream knew he had to move on. So when he receives an email informing him of an event at a local bar, he makes plans to attend. Galleria was a favorite of Dream’s, as they displayed pieces from local artists throughout their establishment. It was one of the first places to showcase Dream’s own art, and he has been a regular in their rotation for years now. As such, despite generally avoiding crowds, Dream always made an effort to support the shows of all the artists they featured.

So he would go. He would absorb himself in new artwork, have a few drinks, maybe throw himself into a one night stand that he would make sure actually remained a one night stand. He would distract himself. There wasn’t much else he could do.

It works, at first. The crowd is not overwhelming, but still a good turn out for the young artist greeting people by the door. Dream accepts a postcard with her information and then splurges on a nicer glass of wine to sip on as he meanders through the bar, weaving through tables to take in the newly hung paintings. He waves awkwardly at the managers who luckily know him well enough to simply wave back instead of starting a conversation, and Dream finds himself actually feeling alright for the first time in weeks.

And then he sees Hob and Calliope.

Together.

Not only together, but together. Holding hands and clearly a couple, each with a drink in their free hands as they chatted with another patron, their shoulders brushing as they leaned together to make room for the people moving around them. Dream can see their lips moving, one after the other, probably finishing each others’ sentences with the ease of two people who belonged together.

Dream feels like the scum of the earth. For all the love in his heart, he never wanted to ruin anyone else’s. He never wanted to be a home-wrecker.

He is so frozen in horror that he could barely move, the reality of the situation washing over him like ice water, so when Hob and Calliope finally turn and see him, he is still staring, wide-eyed. They stare back, and then look at each other, and Dream sees their mouths moving rapidly, everything coming to light no doubt, and Dream finally manages to get his body to move, to run. He put his glass on the first flat surface he sees and takes off, desperate to escape. But of course, he can’t even do that right, and he soon realizes that in his panic he has run in the opposite direction of the exit, instead standing pressed against the back wall. Trapped. It feels too risky to turn back, and so instead he flings himself into the thankfully single-person restroom, locking the door before leaning heavily against it.

Everything feels ruined, so much worse than it had felt even just a few hours ago. It had been bad enough losing both of them, feeling thrown away and heartbroken yet again. Now, even the memories are tainted. Seeing Hob and Calliope together had opened his eyes in the worst way. They had looked so right together, both of them so beautiful and shining and bright, glowing smiles and cheerful laughs. Of course Dream wasn’t good enough for either of them. He only hopes that he hasn’t inadvertently destroyed their relationship.

Dream presses his fists against his eyes, fighting back tears. He feels caught between sorrow and rage and shame. They hadn’t told him. He never would have taken either of them up on their offers if they had told him.

A swift series of knocks on the door makes him jump, and he quickly chokes out, “Occupied!” He just needs a little longer to pull himself together.

Unfortunately, a familiar voice calls back, “Dream?”

Hob’s voice is calm, no immediate rage or hatred, but it doesn’t make Dream’s heart pound any less. Especially when another voice joins him.

“Can we talk to you?” Calliope asks gently, “Please?”

She doesn’t sound angry either, but Dream can’t bring himself to trust it. Still. He knows he must face them. Whatever happens, he has been cornered and there is nowhere to go but forward.

His hands shake as he flips the lock, opening the door with resignation. In front of him, the two people he had grown so attached to- the two people who had, within a week of each other, cut him out of their lives- were smiling at him. Hob had an arm around Calliope’s shoulder, and they were both dressed nicely for the event. They were somehow even more beautiful standing together.

Hob grinned, “Fancy meeting you here, stranger,” he said teasingly.

Something about the ease in their posture, their casual smiles, Hob’s joking greeting, ignites a flicker of fury in him.

“Neither of you told me,” he snaps. They both blink, surprised by the outburst, and he struggles to continue, to get it all out before he either loses his nerve or starts crying, “Neither of you said you had a partner. So if- if you’re upset-… do not be upset with me, because I didn’t know.” He wishes he sounded more angry, but he can’t fully conceal his desperation, or the way his hands shake at his sides, “It’s not my fault.”

Please believe me, he doesn’t say, please forgive me.

Hob raised his hands, “Hey, no, Dream, everything is fine,” he smiled sympathetically, “Nobody did anything wrong, I promise. Calliope and I are in an open relationship. It’s all okay.”

Dream blinked in surprise, feeling the adrenaline slowly bleed out of him, “Oh.”

“We did not mean to keep it a secret,” Calliope chimed in, winding an arm around Hob’s waist and looking at him fondly, “we both have a tendency to get caught up in our… excursions. Sometimes we forget that details might be appreciated.”

Looking between the two of them, Dream thinks he finally gets it. Perhaps they had been attracted to the novelty of him at first. His sickly pale skin versus their golden tans. His sharp bonyness when they are both full and soft. But of course that novelty could only last so long, especially if each time they left him they were going home to each other. He never had a chance of comparing.

“I… am glad,” he responds slowly, awkwardly, “When I saw you both… I had been worried…”

“Understandable,” Hob replies, “And we really are sorry. Didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression.”

Dream shifts uncomfortably, “I apologize. For snapping at you.”

“There is no need,” Calliope reassures, waving the apology away, “We caught you off guard, and we should have told you about our situation from the beginning.”

“But, now that we’re all on the same page…” Hob drawls, rocking on his heels as he glances between Dream and Calliope, “I know I- or, both of us, apparently- texted you to call our whole arrangement off, but…”

He trails off, giving Dream a pointed look that Dream doesn’t understand at all. His mouth opens, but he has no idea what Hob is talking about, what he’s supposed to say.

Placing a hand on Hob’s arm, Calliope continues, “But now, the arrangement has changed,” she explains, looking at Dream intently, “Now we know that we both desire you, and our interests are aligned in a way we had not realized before. And so we were wondering if you might be willing to give us another chance. So that we might be with you… together.”

For a long moment, all Dream can do is stare.

“...Together?”

His voice cracks on the word, and Hob and Calliope nod eagerly, looking at him hopefully, and Dream feels lightheaded. He had been resigned to Hob and Calliope not being a part of his life anymore, and after weeks of wishing he could have at least had more time to prepare, now he was being given it. One more night, at the very least.

Surely that’s better than nothing.

“Okay.”

The word is barely out of his mouth when Hob nearly leaps forward to kiss him. Dream thinks he might have fallen to the ground if not for Hob’s hands gripping his hips as he kisses him deeply. It is hungry, biting, impatient. Hob must have been really aching for a threesome if he was this eager already, Dream thinks. When Calliope tugs Hob away to claim Dream’s mouth with her own, he wonders if she had been wanting this for a while, too.

“We don’t live far from here,” Calliope says, breathless, “Just a few blocks. If you’d like to come to ours this time.”

Dream nods obediently, still trying to catch his breath as Calliope takes his hand and Hob wraps an arm around his waist. They guide him out of the bar swiftly and efficiently, letting out little huffs of laughter as they speed down the sidewalk. Hob’s hand drifts down to squeeze his arse and Dream feels inexplicably nauseous.

They really do live quite close, and far too soon Dream is being led up a short flight of stairs, Calliope and Hob giggling at each other playfully as they disentangle just enough to tumble through the door of their apartment. Dream closes the door behind him mechanically, and when he looks, Hob and Calliope are kissing. It is heated, and passionate, and they move together with the practiced ease of two people who have loved each other for a long time. He thinks again of how right they look together. And it suddenly occurs to him how wrong he must look next to them.

And he should be grateful. He knows he should be grateful. He had thought that he had lost them forever, and yet here they were, inviting him into their home for a night of pleasure, a chance to be useful to both of them. He should be honored that out of everyone, out of all the people so much better than him, they chose Dream to be the toy they brought into bed to spice up their relationship.

“I can’t.”

His voice cracks on the words, choked out before he can think better of it. Hob and Calliope part, turning to look at him in confusion. Part of him wishes he hadn’t said anything at all, almost wants to take it back, but he can’t. He had done this before, had tried so hard to be what they wanted. But he couldn’t do this and not get his heart broken again.

“I’m sorry, I…. I thought I could…. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

His whole body is shaking, and he’s breathless, eyes downcast because he can’t bring himself to face whatever disgust is surely on their faces. His hand fumbles for the doorknob, ready to flee into the night, but soft fingers on his wrist still him. Glancing up through his eyelashes, he finds Hob standing before him, eyes shining with concern.

“Hey, hey… “ he soothes, running his hand up and down Dream’s arm, “It’s alright, dove, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. But I’m a little uncomfortable letting you run off when you’re clearly so upset.”

Calliope steps forward, taking Dream’s other hand, “Will you talk to us, starlight?”

The pet names make it harder. If he closes his eyes he thinks he could pretend that they actually want him. And that’s exactly why he can’t do this.

“I…like you,” he admits, looking away in shame, “Both of you. And I know I should be happy that you find me good enough to, to even just have sex with you, but… I’m greedy.” All his previous partners had come to hate him for it. For always wanting and wanting and wanting. He was too romantic, too much, too high maintenance, yet somehow also too cold, too awkward, too distant. The best he can hope for now is to leave before they come to truly resent him. “I want… more. More than just sex, and. And I do not think I can do this and just walk away when it’s over.” He doesn’t want to hear them tell him to leave.

He lowers his voice to a whisper, “It is better that I just. Go now.”

There is a long pause, and he waits for them to let him go, perhaps call him stupid or express their annoyance at having brought him all the way here only for him to not deliver. Perhaps they will just shove him out the door and be done with it.

“Oh, Dream…” Hob’s voice is soft, and sorrowful, and he brings Dream’s hand up to clutch it between both of his own. When he glances up, Hob looks… shattered.

“We’re so, so sorry,” Calliope whispers, bringing a hand to rest on Dream’s cheek, “We should have been clearer,” she tugs Dream down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead so he can feel her words against his skin, “We like you too.”

Dream feels his breath catch in his chest. His eyes are wide with disbelief, but as Calliope leans back, Hob nods in agreement, “Apparently we were both being fools,” he smiles self-deprecatingly,“We have an open relationship, yeah, but the reason I called things off with you was because… I was catching feelings,” he admits softly. Then he laughs bashfully, “And I was too chicken to just talk to Calliope about it.”

Calliope shook her head, smiling sadly, “We truly are a pair, because that is the exact reason I put a stop to our trysts as well.”

“So when we saw you, and we realized we’d both been going after the same person, it all came out,” Hob continued. Dream can barely breathe, his mind racing as he thinks back to how Calliope and Hob had looked at Dream, and then each other, how they had leaned in to talk and gesture with each other. “When we said we wanted to be together with you, we meant together. We want you as our partner. We just… didn’t know we could have you like that. Until tonight.”

They want him.

Dream opens his mouth to say something- are you sure, thank you, you won’t regret it, I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good- but all that comes out is a sob.

“Oh, oh our poor darling,” Calliope cooed, and then her arms are around him, pulling him close and guiding him to lay his head on her shoulder. She pets the hairs at the nape of his neck, her voice heavy with sadness as she whispers against his ear, “You came here with us, and the whole time you thought we were bringing you here to use you?”

Dream wants to rid her voice of the note of guilt he can hear. They did nothing wrong, nothing at all. But before he can get any words out to shift the blame onto himself where it belongs, Hob runs his hands up his back, massaging lightly as he leans in to speak into Dream’s other ear.

“You are far too important for that,” Dream feels his breath hitch, and Hob nuzzles against his neck, “We didn’t bring you here just to fuck you. We want to love you. Will you let us?”

It is everything Dream has ever wanted, and it hardly feels real. He shakes and shivers as he’s held between the two of them, surrounded by their warmth and the soothing sound of their voices as they comfort him.

Eventually, his breath evens, and he is able to pull away slightly, dropping his gaze to the floor. He can feel his face heat with embarrassment. He was making a scene, all because he had misunderstood what was being asked of him, and now as a result he wasn’t giving them anything.

He takes a few shuddering breaths, trying to formulate an apology, something that will convince them that they aren’t making a huge mistake. But before he gets a chance, Hob wraps his arms around his waist from behind.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Hob drawls, his lips pressed to Dream’s neck but his words directed at Calliope, “but when Dream and I had sex, he was always so generous. Only wanted to focus on me and my pleasure, never his own. Got all shy when I tried to return the favor. I get the feeling it might have been similar with you?”

Dream feels himself flush as Calliope hums, running her hands up Dream’s chest languidly, “Hm, yes. So attentive, so eager to please, to do whatever I wanted. Never so much as mentioned his own wants.” Her tone is nearly scolding, and Dream feels lost and frozen.

Then he feels Hob grin, “Well then…” he bites at Dream’s ear, while the tips of his fingers dip beneath the waistband of his jeans, drawing a gasp from Dream’s lips, “sounds like it’s your turn now, Love.”

Calliope tugs at his shirt, stepping backwards as she guides all of them further into the apartment, “Will you let us take care of you? Show you how much we want you?”

Following helplessly, Dream blushes and stutters, so far removed from their confidence and surety. He wonders if this is a joke. They cannot truly want a foolish mess like him.

“Whatever you want,” he croaks, “You can do whatever you want.”

They enter the bedroom, and Hob flicks on some dim lights as Calliope takes Dream’s chin in her hand. She looks sad.

“That,” she states softly, “is not the answer we’re looking for.”

Dream fears he might burst into tears again at her soft chastisement, but luckily Hob steps in, lightly removing Calliope’s hand as he peppers Dream’s face with kisses.

“It’s alright, Love,” he smiles against Dream’s cheek, “we’ll work on it.” There’s a promise in his voice that makes Dream shiver. “For now, just know that what we want,” he cups Dream’s face in one hand to speak against his lips, “is to give you everything you want.”

Swallowing thickly, Dream bites back words about how he doesn’t know what he wants. He just wants them to stay. He wants to be good enough, he wants to be worthwhile enough. He wants them to stay.

But he is distracted from his thoughts when Calliope steals him away from Hob for a kiss of her own. She tilts her head back, offering her mouth for Dream’s tongue to explore shyly as she dips her hands beneath his shirt. Hob walks around her, standing at her back and brushing her hair over her shoulder as he unzips her dress. She moans against Dream’s mouth, biting down gently on his lower lip as Hob kisses between her shoulder blades. The dress falls easily to the floor, allowing her to step out of it gracefully, and even after all the numerous times they have slept together, Dream still finds himself staring in awe at her. Her bra and panties are a muted lavender colored lace, contrasting against her golden skin beautifully. In the dim room he can just make out the soft, dark hairs along her arms and legs, and he cannot resist reaching out to run his fingers along the edge of her panties, where he knows just below is hiding a thatch of dark curls.

Reaching out, Calliope covers Dream’s hands with her own, pressing them more firmly into the soft flesh of her hips. Behind her, Hob unclasps her bra, tossing it to the side as she steps out of her underwear. Once she is naked, she turns to Hob, smiling gently as she unbuttons his shirt.

Dream watches, enamored as Calliope kisses along Hob’s jaw as she unbuckles his belt, Hob nearly ripping his clothes off as soon as every button is undone. They are beautiful together, Calliope leaning up to press her breasts against Hob’s hair covered body as they kiss. He wants to paint them, to try to capture the way their beauty only enhances each other.

Then, they turn to look at him, and Dream feels frozen under the combined weight of their piercing gazes. A part of him wishes he could turn the lights completely off, could hide in the darkness to try to make his lacking less obvious, and he moves his arms jerkily to hug his middle.

And yet, as Calliope and Hob descend on him, their eyes are full of appreciation.

“We haven’t forgotten you, gorgeous,” Hob grins, leaning in to kiss at Dream’s neck as he slides his hands under his shirt. Dream gasps as his fingers ghost over his nipples. Calliope runs her hands along his arms, guiding him to raise them as Hob pulls his shirt over his head. They are so warm, and when he closes his eyes, he forgets for a moment how ridiculous he must look between them, getting lost in the sensation of hands running over his skin reverently. Before, they were always in a hurry. Either coming to Dream before work or an appointment, or at the end of the day before returning home. It was not uncommon for only the minimal amount of undressing necessary to happen, and certainly it was never a drawn out affair.

Neither of them had ever undressed him themselves, never unzipped his jeans like they were unwrapping a present, never smoothed their hands over his exposed skin like he was something to savor.

“Breathe, darling.”

Dream startles at Hob’s gentle reminder, gasping sharply because he had, in fact, been holding his breath. Hob smiles encouragingly, dragging his hands over Dream’s ribs to feel the way they expand with each breath, pulling him close and nuzzling behind his ear and inhaling happily. Hesitantly, Dream wraps his arms around Hob, letting his fingers trace the strong muscles of his back. His grip tightens when he feels Calliope press a kiss to the base of his spine as she slides his jeans and underwear down his legs, gripping his shins as she helps him to step out of them.

Even biting his lip cannot fully stifle the gasp as she stands, the soft swell of her breasts pressing into his back at the same time as he becomes aware of the heat of Hob’s cock sliding against his hip. His own erection is a distant thought, and it feels insignificant in comparison to the scratch of Calliope’s pubic hair against his arse, and the way Hob pulls him in for another kiss.

A soft whine escapes him as Calliope steps away, feeling cold without her warmth to blanket him. Hob hushes him gently, moving them both to follow after her, and when Dream turns to look, he sees Calliope moving onto the bed. She leans against the headboard, legs spread wide, and holds a hand out, beckoning Dream to her. Dream feels a brief sense of relief at the familiarity, moving to crawl between her legs, ready and eager to bring her pleasure. To earn his keep.

But before he can reach her, there is a hand on his arm, twisting him around until he is facing Hob. He grins, and pulls Dream into a heated kiss, his tongue exploring his mouth when Dream gasps. As he deepens the kiss, he presses forward, crowding against Dream until he begins to crawl backwards. Hob continues to guide him back, barely giving him a chance to breathe, and before he knows it his back is pressing against Calliope’s chest. She wastes no time gripping Dream’s waist, tugging him even closer as she mouths at his neck. Her legs bracket his hips, and her tongue is tracing the shell of his ear, and Hob still hasn’t let up his kissing, and Dream feels dizzy on their attention.

When Hob finally leans back, Dream is panting, and Hob has a look of pride at how worked up he’s gotten him. Dream feels overwhelmed, and they’ve barely even done anything.

Hob sits back on his heels, resting his hands on Dream’s ankles and smiling softly, “Will you open up for me, sweetheart?”

Dream didn’t even realize, but his knees were pressed together so hard it was nearly painful. Yet even with the realization he could not bring himself to spread his legs. This felt backwards. No matter what they said, it felt wrong not to be focusing on them. They were already giving him so much.

“You do not need to…” he choked out, pressing his legs together even harder and drawing them towards his chest, so afraid of asking for too much despite not having asked at all. “I… I do not mind- truly, I don’t, I-”

His words are cut off by the feeling of hands running up his thighs, Calliope’s chest pressing against his back as she gently brushed from hip to knee. At the same time, in unison, like the practiced couple they are, Hob drags his hands up Dream’s shins. They meet in the middle, Hob and Calliope lacing their fingers over Dream’s knees. And together, they gently pry his legs apart, until he is left open and exposed in front of them.

“There you are,” Calliope breathes in his ear, her hands slipping back down to stroke at his hip bones. Hob takes advantage of the distraction to slip his torso between Dream’s legs, peppering soft kisses up his leg. Dream shivers at the touch, Hob hooking one leg over his shoulder to stroke his flank as he kisses the inside of his knee.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Calliope purrs, running a hand through Hob’s hair to get his attention as she smirks down at him, “he always made the prettiest noises when I scratched at his inner thighs.”

Hob looks up, grinning mischievously, and before Dream has a chance to brace himself, he grazes his teeth across his skin and then bites, putting just enough force to leave the slightest indent of teeth. Dream slaps a hand over his mouth as he keens, his toes curling, and when Hob grins he can feel his teeth.

“So sensitive,” he says, clearly delighted, “but I didn’t quite hear you love.”

As he moves to Dream’s other thigh, Calliope takes Dream’s wrist and pulls his hand away from his mouth. She holds both his hands as she wraps her arms around his chest until his arms are crossed. With her gentle restraint, he cannot muffle his sounds as Hob drags his teeth all the way to where his thigh creases.

It is overwhelming, so much sensation all at once. Hob sucks and bites at his thighs, leaving a trail of little love bites behind, and Calliope loosens her hold as she begins to stroke at his nipples, an embarrassing squeak escaping him as she pinches just as Hob bites down. Trembling, Dream can’t help but shrink into himself as much as he can. Head bowed, Calliope’s arms preventing him from curling over as her clever fingers play with his chest, Hob’s body preventing his legs from snapping shut at each graze of teeth. It is so good. It is also so much, and when he feels Calliope raise a hand to his hair he flinches, bracing himself without meaning to.

Hob’s eyes dart up to look at him, and Dream does his best to exhale, to relax, to act normal for once. Pulling back just slightly, Hob rests his head against Dream’s leg, one hand petting his thigh softly. His other hand reaches out to tap Calliope’s knee, drawing her attention as he hums thoughtfully.

“He’d never admit it, but he doesn’t like having his hair pulled.”

Dream feels himself flush, eyes wide with embarrassment and looking at Hob with shock. He has no idea how Hob figured that out, he thought he hid it pretty well, and he feels a stab of betrayal at being called out. He feels Calliope suck in a breath behind him, and just knows she’s thinking of all the times she had gripped his hair harshly, twisting and tugging as Dream pleasured her, his discomfort hidden between her legs.

It was worth it, though. He would do anything for them.

Hob looks at him a little sadly, and Dream wonders how much of his thoughts are written plainly across his face. His eyes move to Calliope, smiling at her as he continues, “But if you just scratch his scalp lightly? He’ll melt under your hands.”

Calliope moves before Dream has a chance to respond, and he can’t hold back a shuddering sigh as he feels her manicured nails run through his hair, just barely grazing his skin. She does it again, and again, and Dream’s eyes close in bliss.

Tears sting at the corner of his eyes, and he swallows thickly as he forces himself to speak, “You… you can pull. If you want to.”

Calliope hums, but makes no move to stop her gentle petting, “I don’t want to, actually, thank you.”

He’s doing this all wrong, but the tears escape despite his best efforts. He feels his chest hitch and he waits for Hob and Calliope’s frustration, their impatience, their jeering mockery. It never comes. Everything seems to slow down for a moment, both of them just petting him, holding him, quietly giving him the chance to catch his breath.

Almost without noticing, he finds himself relaxing. Just as Hob predicted, Dream slowly melts back against Calliope as she continues stroking his hair, sinking against her chest as the rigid tension he had been holding himself with slowly bleeds out of him. His legs fall open a little wider, no longer pressed against Hob’s shoulders with locked muscles. The tears slow, his breath evens, and his eyes drift shut. Calliope presses a kiss to his damp cheek, and Hob nuzzles against his hip bone, and it feels good without feeling like he’s going to drown in it.

“There’s a love,” Hob whispers against his skin, “We’ve got you. No need to rush. We’re more than happy to take our time with you.”

Leaning up, Hob trails kisses up Dream’s stomach and chest, until he finally reaches his mouth and presses against him deeply. Dream sighs against his mouth, letting his head drop back onto Calliope’s shoulder as she claims Hob’s lips next. The overwhelming fire has calmed to a simmering warmth, and when Calliope turns her head to kiss him, Hob’s movement makes him gasp as their cocks briefly brush against each other. He hears Hob whine softly as well.

He is panting again when Calliope moves to suck at his neck, and he feels Hob grin as he places wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach, chin just barely brushing against his straining cock. With the tension eased out of him, he finds himself unable to hold back the soft, desperate moan as Hob’s hands glide up his inner thighs.

Calliope reaches her hand around and, with practiced ease, grips a fistful of Hob’s hair in her hand, dragging his face firmly against Dream’s groin.

“I think we’ve teased him enough, my love.”

Dream sucks in a breath as he feels Hob’s moan against his skin. It occurs to him now, as he takes in the pleasure on Hob’s face as he’s manhandled, that Calliope probably treated Dream the same way simply out of habit. Her hands moved with confidence and familiarity, Hob’s eyes fluttering with arousal. He feels a sharp stab of guilt for daring to have different preferences than them, for not hiding it well enough, for disrupting their routine.

But whatever half-formed apology was on his lips dies when Hob parts his lips and Calliope guides him to take Dream’s cock. He has to bite his lip to muffle his cries, and his body trembles with effort to not thrust up into the warm, wet cavern of Hob’s mouth.

“I’m surprised he managed to hold himself back so long,” Calliope whispers against Dream’s ear, stroking Hob’s cheek reverently, her fingers tracing his lips where they’re stretched around Dream’s length, “A large part of why we opened our relationship was because he loves sucking cock so much. My strap-on just couldn’t quite satisfy him.”

Dream shudders at the words, whining when Hob hums, glancing up with bright eyes, looking like he would be laughing in agreement if his mouth wasn’t full. Calliope tugs at his hair, and Dream keens at the feeling of Hob’s tongue dragging across his prick as Calliope pulls him off.

Hob grins, licking his lips, “Didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits to Dream, “Didn’t want to push when I wasn’t sure why you wouldn’t let me reciprocate.” His hands move to Dream’s arse, squeezing gently before tugging him forward, sliding him down the bed just slightly until his head is pillowed against Calliope’s breasts and Hob can bury his nose in the crease of Dream’s thigh.

“Nothing to be afraid of now, darling,” Hob says, smiling, “So let go for us.”

He opens his mouth, and does not have to wait long before Calliope has his hair in her grip again, moving him to swallow Dream back down as she sets a gentle pace for them. Dream shudders and moans, his breath hitching when he feels himself barely brush the back of Hob’s throat. He tries to pull away slightly, but as he does Hob looks up at him, and Dream just knows he would be grinning if he could. He hooks his arms under Dream’s knees until his legs are over his shoulders, and ignores Calliope’s guiding hand in favor of pulling Dream close until his nose is pressing against his pelvis and Dream can feel him swallowing around him.

The cry Dream lets out is more like a muffled scream, his whole body going taut as he throws his head back against Calliope’s chest. When she laughs, it is not mean, or mocking. She just sounds happy.

“Someday,” she promises, “I will show you how to really fuck his face exactly how he likes.” Dream shudders at the words, and Calliope allows Hob another moment to choke on Dream’s prick before pulling him off. Hob sucks in a gasping breath, drool running down his chin, smiling and laughing even as Calliope turns her attention to him to chide him fondly, “But for now, we must be gentle with him, my love.” She wipes at the saliva on Hob’s face as she leans to kiss Dream’s cheek, “We have been too careless already.”

Whatever part of Dream’s brain that is still working wants to argue, but before he gets a chance, Hob is placing a kiss at the base of his cock, looking up at him warmly, “No argument here,” and then he is licking up the shaft and returns to the easy pace from before, and all Dream can do is whimper.

Heat curls in the bottom of his stomach as he watches Hob’s head bob steadily. He is so caught up in the sensation, in Hob’s tongue swirling over the head of his dick, and Hob’s hands massaging his arse, and Calliope still idly stroking his nipples, that it takes him a moment to notice that his voice is not the only sound echoing through the room. Blinking dazedly, he realizes that Hob is moaning around him, and his hips are rutting desperately against the mattress, a dark spot spreading on the sheets where his precome is leaking. Behind him, Calliope’s breath is panting by his ear, and he feels the knuckles of her free hand brushing against his lower back rhythmically as she fingers herself.

Hob’s face is flushed, his tempo faltering as he climbs towards his peak, until Calliope has to grip his hair again to keep him steady. As she does, Dream can hear the slick, wet sounds behind him as her hips start canting to fuck herself on her own fingers. Her movements jostle Dream, each thrust of her hips pushing Dream’s into a mirroring thrust into Hob’s mouth. Dream isn’t even doing anything, is simply laying at their mercy and writhing at every pleasure they wring from him, and yet somehow, impossibly, he is surrounded by the evidence of their pleasure as well.

Whining desperately, Dream moves one hand to grip at Calliope’s thigh, the other covering her’s over Hob’s hair, pushing back weakly, “I-... I’m going to-....” he tries to warn.

Calliope only grinds against him harder, her voice breathless as she keeps her hand on Hob’s head, “Go ahead,” she pants, “Let go, let him taste you, let us see you lose yourself with us.”

Hob hums in eager agreement and just like that Dream is coming hard. His fingers tighten on Calliope’s thigh and Hob’s hair, pressing them close as he throws his head back and keens, long and loud. Hob takes him as deep as he can go to swallow around every drop, and just as Dream is starting to come down, Hob lets out a strangled cry and Dream nearly shrieks in overstimulation. Calliope pulls Hob off and Dream realizes that he is coming too, his red, red lips hanging open and drool dripping from his chin as he moans, long stripes of come streaking between his legs. Finally, Calliope buries her face in Dream’s neck, her hand speeding up until Dream feels a puddle of wetness bloom on the mattress where their hips are pressed together.

For a long moment, all three of them simply lay together, panting and boneless. Hob has collapsed forward, uncaring of laying in his own mess, resting his head on Dream’s stomach. Dream feels like a ragdoll, limbs loose and limp as he leans back heavily on Calliope. She in turn is curled forward, forehead pressed against Dream’s shoulder, her hips occasionally twitching with little aftershocks of her orgasm.

Eventually, Calliope shifts, humming in contentment as she stretches an arm out to tug on a strand of Hob’s hair. When she has his attention, she crooks a finger still shiny with her own fluids at him, beckoning him to her. He smiles, and slides up Dream’s body languidly until they are chest to chest and Calliope can draw him into a deep kiss just over Dream’s shoulder. He watches with half-lidded eyes as Calliope licks into Hob’s mouth, and he can feel the way her chest rumbles with a noise of satisfaction.

“Oh, Dream,” she purrs, and Dream blinks in surprise at being addressed as she runs her tongue across Hob’s lips, “you taste divine.”

Dream thinks his face might be on fire, and even as he ducks his head to hide his face in Hob’s chest, he is certain Hob must feel the heat on his skin. But Hob is nice enough not to say anything, petting Dream’s hair softly as Calliope allows him to lick her fingers clean.

Hob runs his tongue over her fingers thoroughly, moaning happily at the taste of both his lovers mingling in his mouth, “Truly, I’m being spoiled tonight,” Hob grinned, his voice rough and rasping in a way that only made Dream blush harder, “I thought this was supposed to be about Dream?”

Shyly, Dream raises his head from Hob’s chest. He knows that Hob is teasing, but he still feels the need to make sure they know, “I am… more than happy with the outcome of this evening,” he whispers.

“Hm, good,” Calliope tilts his head, kissing him softly, nearly chaste, “Tonight was a good start, I think.”

Dream blinked in confusion, “A… start?”

“Of course,” Hob chimed in, placing a finger under Dream’s chin to tilt his face up, “We haven’t even taken you on a date yet.”

It only makes him more confused, even as his heart flutters with something hopeful, “But… you already have me?”

His fondness for romance was something that has long been beaten down in him. When he wanted to do something for his partner, he was too much, he embarrassed them, and it was still never enough to forgive him his flaws. When he wanted something from them, a sign or a gesture or even just time together to make him feel wanted, he was high maintenance, spoiled, unreasonable.

“We’re already dating,” they’d say with rolled eyes, “That shit is for when you’re trying to get someone,” they’d grin meanly, “You’re already got.”

Romance was for his books, not his life. And yet, Hob tilted his head in curiosity “And we would like to keep you,” and he says it so easily, as if he is not the first person to ever express such a thing to Dream. He must see it though, in Dream’s glassy eyes, because his expression softens, and he strokes Dream’s cheek lovingly, “We want to treat you right. Give you all the good things you deserve. And that includes dates, and gifts, and excessive wooing.”

“And it will be excessive,” Calliope warns, “Now that it is allowed, we will both be broken floodgates of affection. You must tell us if it is ever too much.”

Dream shakes his head immediately, “You could never be too much,” he chokes out, lowering his gaze, “You don’t… you don’t have to…”

He jumps when he hears a thud and two yelps, looking up to find Calliope and Hob both holding a hand to their foreheads, having collided in their mutual rush to kiss him.

“Excuse you,” Calliope glares, voice haughty and offended, “it is my turn!”

“It absolutely is not,” Hob pouts.

And whatever feelings were overwhelming Dream even a moment earlier evaporate as he claps a hand over his mouth to stifle his rasping giggles. He loves these two ridiculous people so much and he thinks- hesitantly, tentatively- that he might be allowed to.

This time, Calliope and Hob maneuver carefully around each other, each pressing kisses to Dream’s face and shoulders. When Dream’s laughter has died down and it feels safe to remove his hand from over his mouth, they carefully disentangle from one another.

“Come on, beautiful,” Hob says, and Dream flushes at the endearment, “Let’s get cleaned up. I’ll find some pajamas for you, then we’ll change the sheets and head to bed.”

Despite everything, Dream cannot help the words that bubble up in his chest. He just has to make sure, “I can stay?”

They look a little sad, but still don’t hesitate to both nod. “Of course,” Hob whispers, “We want you to stay.”

Calliope takes his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “And we will be here with you in the morning. And the day after that, and the day after that.”

“I’ll make you breakfast, because Calliope can’t cook. But she’ll make the coffee, because the machine hates me for some reason. And you can decide what we watch while we eat because neither of us can ever decide on a show and you always have good suggestions.” He turned to raise a teasing eyebrow at Calliope, “Am I wrong?”

To Dream’s relief and delight, Calliope only laughed, “It’s true, I have enjoyed all of his suggestions thus far. And left to our own devices, Hob and I will simply scroll for hours and not watch a single thing.”

Something in Dream’s heart blooms. He hadn’t even realized they’d been listening to him. Before, each time they’d finish, as they were getting dressed and making themselves presentable, Dream would recommend a show or a book or a movie. It was an easy script, something he could easily practice in his head beforehand and recite in the moment with ease. A little filler in the aftermath, a reassurance that Dream could talk like a normal person, a subtle implication that he thought of them outside of sex. Have you seen this show? Have you heard of this story? I think you’d like it.

But he hadn’t really thought they were listening.

Dream does his best to move with them as seamlessly as they do each other, but each time he fumbles and finds himself in their way, they merely take it as an opportunity to ply him with kisses. They wipe each other down with warm washcloths, letting their hands linger longer than strictly necessary simply because they can. Hob and Calliope replace the sheets swiftly while Dream changes into his borrowed pajamas. The oversized tee continuously slips off his shoulder, and when Calliope and Hob see him they immediately begin elbowing at each other in their haste to put their mouths on the exposed skin.

When they finally climb back into bed, they guide Dream into the center, slotting him between them as though he was made to be there. They pet his hair, and kiss him, and lace their fingers together over the dip of his waist. They fall asleep quickly, easily, as though Dream’s presence has not disrupted them at all. He stays awake as long as he can, savoring the feeling of their bodies surrounding him. He places his hand carefully on top of theirs, holding his breath. When they do not stir, he releases it slowly, allowing his eyes to finally drift shut.

Dream falls asleep, three hands tangled together, and thinks he might actually have a place here.

#the sandman #immortal throuple #dream the endless #hob gadling #calliope sandman #my writing #nsft #I have never written a smut scene this long it was a struggle lol #and with three people!! there are so many limbs to keep track of!!#I do want to write more for this universe someday though

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d3adbr3inc3lls · 6 months ago

Note

hi, I don’t know if you write for Friede, so no worries if you don’t, but I’d like to request headcanons for a gn reader who meets Friede and he offers to let them join the RVT? No pressure ofc! Love your work

Friede x Reader | Old Connections | Oneshot

I haven't written for him but I will try,,, btw I changed the story a bit so Friede and Reader knew of eachother in highschool, but they're kinda meeting again to an extent after not talking to eachother for years.

It was a miracle that you were talking to your highschool best friend/crush.

The two of you met accidentally as you were grabbing youur daily treat from the nearby Cafe.

Your partner pokémon was happily chewing on a poképuff as the two of you caught up.

"I've been good, the kids are now st-"

"You have kids???"

You and Friede were close friends in highschool, and you've had a crush on him ever since you were 17.

But to think that he had kids was insane, the both of you were in your mid 20's right now, and the fact that he has multiple was insane.

"Oh- no, no- not my kids, I-"

He took a deep breath before chuckling.

He used to be the most confident kid in highschool and you couldn't help but always wish to be him, or be with him.

"Well, you remember how when we first graduated I started a new project, turning gramp's old ship into something else?"

Of course you remembered. It's the one thing you often think back on when you missed him.

After the two of you graduated, you invited him over to your place to celebrate and he stayed the night. Most of the night was spent with him rambling on about his dream with the newly-caught Pikachu curled up on his stomach.

You've always wanted to confess your feelings right there and then, the lighting was perfect, and you cuss at yourself daily for chickhening out.

"Well, after about a few months or a year, I managed to get it sorted,"

His voice cuts through your thoughts, snapping you back into reality.

"And?"

"And what?"

There it was, the soft laugh that you adored, a boyish smile plastered on his face as he glanced away from you, acting as if he hadn't been staring at you this whole time.

"How is it? Did you get your boyband sorted?"

"It's not a boyband- we have a bit of everyone- you'll love the team,"

And there he went, rambling all about the people and pokémon who lived on the ship prior to it being taken down by Raquaza -which apparently was a shiny, so that was something new- and left everyone to go back to a more normal life.

The passion in his eyes was evident as he rambled on about his co-workers, their traits, and how they help out.

Suddenly, the boy man paused as he looked at you, his golden gaze gleaming with affection.

To an extent, you forgot that the two of you have been separated for years.

"You should join us, it'll be fun, I'm sure you'll love Murdock! He bakes the best sweets!"

His gaze was warm as he looked at you, and you swore you could feel your heart skip a beat.

It was hard to say no to him, not only because you've always had a crush on him (that at this point lasted for at least 4 years, which probably is more like 6-7 years), but because wanted to travel with a group of people.

Giving him a small nod, his grin widened as he lifted himself off the mahogany table and quickly embraced you.

"It's gonna be so much fun with you here, I promise you'll love it-"

As quickly as he began talking, he pauses, quickly loosening his grip before rubbing the back of his neck

"-when it gets fixed that is..."

I might write another fic about the graduation night, idek, lmk if you guys wanna see that !!

#rahh I have assingments <///3 #I apologise if this sucks #my work #Friede x Reader #Friede x GN!Reader #RVT Friede x reader #Freide x Male Reader #pokemon hz x reader #RVT x reader #GN!Reader #Male Reader #x m!reader #x GN!Reader #pokemon x reader #cannon x reader #x reader

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5tar-5hin3 · 10 months ago

Text

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

John Dory x Reader

“A Chance He Can Take”

Part 1 : “An Unlikely Beginning”

Part 2: “And an Unexpected Ending”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Synopsis:

JD left a long time ago. A long, long time again.

Now he lives alone in the mountains. That is until 1 turns into 2.

He meets another troll.

This one isn’t like anyone he’s ever met before. They’re… different. They hang around for a while and, well, let’s just say they get friendly.

Words: 1,320

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

A/N:

In this story, John Dory wholly believes his brothers failed him and they left him when the didn’t make the perfect family harmony.

He doesn’t believe he left. He believes he had to leave because they weren’t good enough for him. So he’s twisted the story to make it look better on him. He’s a little quirky, but we can fix him. 🫶

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

*5 Years Before*

John was hiking the mountains when he came across something unexpected. Another troll. One similar to him.

They were walking with a small cuddle pup. They were happily hiking the opposite way on the trail. He hadn’t seen anyone for years. This was new to him.

“Hey.” He started the interaction. It startled the other troll. They looked around to see if he meant someone else. Even though rarely anyone trailed this far.

“Oh hey!” They laughed awkwardly. “I’ve never seen another troll up here.”

“Me either.” He agreed with them. “What bring you up all alone?”

“I just needed time away from my family. You know how it is.”

They had no idea how much John Dory under stood that.

They shrugged as she met the other finally. “Name’s Y/N, by the way.” They held out their hand for the other to shake.

The fact he wasn’t immediately recognized was both shocking and relieving to John Dory. Maybe it was for the best that people didn’t remember’BroZone’ anymore.

“You are?” John had left Y/N hanging.

“Sorry,” he grabbed their hand. “I’m-“ he hadn’t gotten this far. Should he say his real name or make a fake one? “JD.”

“Nice to meet you JD.” They smiled brightly. “I best get going now. I have to set up before sun down. Don’t want those nasty critters after my cuddle pup.” John looked down at the small fluffy creature. “Her name is Ruby.”

“You could always camp out with me. I’ve got plenty of room for a guest. It’s probably easier than a tent too. I don’t mean to brag but I do have an armadillo bus.” John was happy to offer his place to them. That meant more company for him.

“Uhh- I don’t know. I think I’d feel more comfortable in my own space.” They politely declined.

“That’s totally fair. Feel free to set up around me though. Never know when you could use a helping hand.” With that, they parted ways.

It wasn’t until much later, when John came back, that he saw a small f/c tent pitched next to his bus. They had taken up one of his offers at the very least. He didn’t bother them, simply minded his own.

It stayed like that for sometime. Y/N would come and go. The first few times they took their tent. But after a while they stopped taking the tent down and left it next to John’s bus.

In between each visit, y/n and John would talk. They slowly grew accustomed to the other. Got used to routines, got used to style. They even started doing thing together, like going for morning runs or hiking.

Since y/n was the only on connected to the “outside world”, they often kept John up to date with troll events. Or the ones that he needed to know the most about. John was actually starting to- he didn’t know how to say it. He was getting a crush? He liked y/n in a way he hadn’t liked anyone else.

Then one day, after coming back from a hike, their tent was gone. He wasn’t worried at first. Y/n was sure to be back tomorrow. They always were. Until they didn’t show up the next day. Or the next. Soon, weeks passed and there was no sign of them. John began to work just a bit.

A month and a half passed before y/n showed up again.

“Y/n!” John happily announced when he saw them. How he missed their company.

“JD!” They smiled at the other. Ruby seemed as happy as ever to see John again. She was happily pouncing at his feet and barking for attention. “Sorry I disappeared on you- family stuff.” They shrugged it off. “I’m back now though, so no worries.” John could see their pack was lighter than before. There was no tent.

John picked the pup up and pet her. “You’re fine. I’ve been up here by myself longer than you can imagine. It was nothing. No tent this time?” John commented. He raised his eyebrow, a bit curious.

“Oh, yeah. I figured, if the offer still stands, that you had room for a guest.” Y/n shyly smiled, a soft blush across their cheeks and on the tips of their ears.

“The offer does stand.” He smiled and set the pup down. “Wanna come inside? Check out the great abode of JD?” He teased.

“I’ll follow you.” Y/n followed John as he went into the bus. It was quite cozy. Nothing like what they expected. “It’s nice.” It seemed almost rustic. It had charm. It was a bit messy, but hey, what can you do?

“Thanks, decorated myself.” He laughed. Y/n set their belongings down next to the door and admired the space.

“You did a good job.” They smiled. “Oh, that reminds me. I found the other glove you said you lost.” They pulled it out of their pocket.

“Wow, I’m impressed. Keep it.” John shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to the one glove. It’s a look now.” Y/n pulled the glove on. It looked quite good actually.

The pair hung out almost everyday after that. Y/n still left occasionally, especially for holidays. They always invited John. He always denied. He liked the solitude.

Y/n basically lived on John’s couch other than that. They cooked and cleaned, he went out and gathered stuff. They were basically a couple, without all that couple stuff.

*A year later*

Y/n was up before John, like they always were. They made his coffee and breakfast. They went out and fed Rhonda then Ruby. The usual. John was up a little afterwards.

“Good morning JD.” Y/n didn’t even raise their head to greet the other. He jumped down from his loft. That’s how they knew he was up.

Today, JD decided he want to be bold. He came up behind them and wrapped his arms around them.

When they started staying with him, they didn’t have a lot of clothes. So they borrowed his often. They were wearing his shirt and it hung down to their mid thigh. It drove him wild.

Y/n wasn’t fazed. They knew it was only a matter of time before one of them made a move. They had a crush on John and they made it obvious. They hummed happily. “Good morning JD.” They repeated.

“Good morning.” He teased. They giggled. “How’d you sleep?”

“About as good as I can with you snoring.” They joked. John didn’t snore, but they always joked he did. He laughed.

“Whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes. He let them go and took his coffee. “You know, you could always sleep in the bed. The couch can’t be that comfortable.” Y/n shook their head.

“It’s not, but I take what I can get.”

“Well, I’m offering my bed. So.”

“Fine, fine.” They laughed. “You could just say you were lonely.”

“Lonely? Lonely? Ha. I’m not lonely, who said I was lonely?” He looked around nervously.

“You’re running behind schedule JD.” They kissed his cheek. “Get dressed and get out there. Ruby is waiting for her walk.”

Y/n walked away to go change back into their everyday clothes as John was left speechless.

He laughed at the interaction before getting changed into his hiking clothes. He went out to hike with Ruby. Y/n stayed behind and cleaned up their mess.

Y/n considered this the ‘start’ of their relationship. They never ‘officially’ stated they were together. But y/n just assumed they were a couple. This would prove to be… not quite the case.

4 years passed and it stayed the same. Y/n did the cleaning and cooking. JD went out. They stayed in this ‘relationship’ for 4 years.

JD got a letter one day, which was weird since they were in the middle of no where. Y/n had opened it. Their morbid curiosity got to them.

They’d regret opening that letter.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

AHHH!! That was so many words holy- I’m working on a part 2 as we speak! I just really wanted to get the first part out! I hope you guys liked it. This is my return to fanfiction. I haven’t written anything serious since 2019- what a time jump.

#brozone #john dory #john dory x reader #trolls #trolls band together #trolls 3

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talaok · 2 years ago

Text

Close your eyes

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Summary: After a few months of living in your new cabin on Nevarro, Din confesses to you he's ready to take the next step.

warnings: smut| oral sex (f receiving) and baby-making sex

[I know his name isn't Din but I couldn't bring myself to call him Djarin, sorry]

"he's getting really good at it" you sighed happily.

You and Din sat on the porch of the new cabin Greef Karga had granted you.

The air smelled fresh, the sky was beautiful as the sun set, and your head rested on Din's shoulder while his arm kept you close.

Grogu was "playing" with the frogs inhabiting the pond right in front of the house, although I'm not sure the frogs would have called it that.

Everything was alright.

After all this time, these fights, these adventures, everything was fine, actually, more than fine.

It was perfect.

"he is" he agreed, his thumb stoking your side "but he still needs training"

You scoffed "Please, he could beat you with a flick of his hand"

He laughed "he wishes"

"don't worry" you pretended to reassure him "There's no shame in being the least strong of the family"

"least strong?"

"weakest sounded mean" You bit down a smirk

"You think you could take me?"

"I know I could take you"

" Sweetheart, there's only one way you can take me," he said "and even for that you needed training"

you felt heat rise to your cheeks at the remark, and it was as if you could see the smug grin tugging at his lips even through the helmet.

"Don't flatter yourself mando" You placed a hand on his chest "there's many ways I can take you" you explained "What you're thinking of is just the one you like the most"

His hold on your side got tighter "I sure do like it"

"do you?" you mocked, raising a brow " Would have never guessed it" you giggled, hearing him chuckle also.

Your eyes trailed to the sun behind him, its light almost completely engulfed by the horizon.

"it's getting late," you said "The kid needs to go to sleep" You got up, walking to Grogu.

He didn't offer much resistance today, and you were able to pick him up with just an annoyed coo.

"say goodnight to Daddy" You stopped in front of the entrance, facing him towards Din.

He emitted the cutest sound you've ever heard, and as always, your heart warmed.

" 'night kid" he waved in return, before you stepped into the house.

In the few months you'd been living here you had managed to already make it a home.

Pictures and memories filled each shelf and empty space on the wall.

Grogu's room was small, but not any less full.

Din had built him a course where he could jump from the floor to the wall and to the ceiling thanks to some wooden panels.

The kid loved it. What was hard most times, was making him stop.

"alright" you smiled, setting him down into the crib Din had created for him "It's time to go to sleep sweetpea" You kissed his forehead, earning a happy coo "Sweet dreams" you whispered, glancing at him once more before turning to the door.

You almost gasped as you saw Din standing there, casually leaning on the side of it.

You shook your head, laughing a bit as you followed him outside, closing the door behind you.

"you scared me" you scolded him

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he said, stoking your cheek.

He paused for a second, like he was hesitant, before speaking again.

"you're really good with him," he said

"I know"

"I mean... you're good with kids"

"thank you?"

He let out a breathy laugh,

"he seems happy"

"well he's got a family" you smiled "We all do"

"right, but don't you think he's a bit..."

"What?"

"lonely?"

your mouth gaped open

"You mean...?"

"Maybe he needs someone his age to interact with"

"like a brother?" you intertwined your hands behind his neck, "you think we should give little Grogu a brother?" you grinned, not able to hide your excitement

You could hear his breathing from underneath the helmet.

he was nervous.

"would you like that?"

you paused, stunned at the fact he even had to ask.

"I would" you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt "I would really like that baby"

He let go of a sigh of relief, and you wondered for a moment, how long he'd been worrying about this.

He gripped your waist, his hands loving yet hard.

"then we better get to work" he smiled, not giving you any warning before picking you up.

A little squeak fled your throat as you grabbed onto him.

"Eager much?"

"you have no idea" he purred, kicking the bedroom door open and closed in one swift motion.

He sat on the bed and you ended up in his lap.

"Close your eyes, sweetheart"

You were just waiting to hear that.

It was such a simple sentence, and yet it meant so much.

It was the symbol of trust and passion, but most importantly, of love.

It was his way of saying he would trust you over anything, and your way of saying it back.

You closed your eyes, the world going pitch black once more.

You heard a familiar sound, and then something hit the ground,

his helmet.

Seconds passed, but the anticipation was so strong your skin felt on fire, and then, like water in the desert, came his lips on yours.

He kissed you sweetly, a way of thanking you, of loving you, and you kissed him back with everything you could.

Your hands went to his face, stoking and palming all you couldn't normally feel, while he was holding yours between his fingers like you were about to slip away.

"You're beautiful" he breathed, leaning back ever so slightly,

"you too" you smiled, making him laugh.

"you can't see me"

"I can feel you," you said "I know you're handsome"

He kissed you again

"I love you"

"I love you too" you promised, but were quickly cut off by your own gasp as he quite literally manhandled you so your back was on the bed.

"maybe give me a warning next time?" you chuckled, as you felt his hand on your thighs.

He was kneeling in front of you.

"oh but I like the pretty sounds you make" he kissed your skin

"do you?"

"I do" he kissed you again, his trail getting closer to the hem of your skirt "I like them a lot" another peck "Although I do like some other sounds you make better"

"Like what?" you asked playfully

He grabbed the end of your skirt "Like the ones you make when you're desperate for me"

"desperate?"

"yes, desperate" he murmured, pulling your skirt off.

Your mouth opened but you forced the gasp climbing your throat back from where it came from, making him chuckle.

"I'm never desperate"

You couldn't see it, but you could feel the smug smirk on his lips.

"Are you now, sweetheart?" he mocked, his fingers grazing your panties and making you hold your breath.

"I actually seem to recall many times where you were the one begging"

touché, he thought

"That's because you tease" he explained, his torturous fingers still just dancing on where you needed him the most.

"so you're telling me that I stopped touching you right now you'd be fine with it?" the bastard asked.

"Din..."

"What?" he kissed your clothed cunt "You wouldn't be desperate would you?"

you sighed, frustrated "No, just-"

"What, baby, what is it?"

"don't stop"

"why?"

God, you hated him so much.

You'd never taken back something so quickly, but he was able to do that. That taunting asshole.

"Because I need you" you confessed "Please"

He smirked "There she is"

You didn't even have time to breathe that your panties were off of you.

He spread your legs, and you had to bite your lips in anticipation as he gripped your thighs.

"you're so wet baby" he groaned, his breath fanning against your core.

"I wonder why, you bastard"

"Easy there" he kissed your clit, making you gasp "Wouldn't want me to stop,"

"Baby-"

he didn't let you finish as he finally dove in, his tongue tasting all of you before he started focusing on your clit.

"Oh my god" you whined, already a mess.

He was holding you firmly as your whole body begged to move.

"fuck baby, please" you moaned loudly, as he kept going unfazed.

It felt like a fire had started inside your body, and once his fingers grazed your hole, a bucket of gasoline spread it everywhere.

"din!" you cried once he pushed them in, your hand going to grip his hair.

"That's right, say my name sweetheart" he murmured as he pumped his digits in and out of you.

A filthy sound spread through the room, and you were shutting your eyes so forcefully you were seeing white dots.

"fuck, din" you breathed, feeling yourself get closer as he sucked your clit so perfectly.

His fingers curled inside of you, hitting your spot and making you cry, but his mouth didn't stop, licking and worshipping all of you.

"c'mon sweet girl, come for me, I know you're close" he murmured "I can feel it," he said, before resuming his work somehow even more intensely.

Shocks of pleasure kept coursing through you, but as he curled his fingers one more time, you were sent over the edge, your orgasm washing over you powerfully as you gripped his locks for dear life.

Who cares if you hurt him. He caused this.

"shit" You let out a breath, once you were done and he leaned away.

"You're so beautiful when you come honey," he said, taking your hand still on his head and kissing it softly " I wish you could see it" he murmured, leaning away.

You whined, reaching for him through the dark behind your eyelids "Where did you go?"

"I'm here baby" You heard some noises and then a louder one.

He had taken his suit off.

When you felt him again, he was holding your waist. Not for long, however, as his hands quickly started exploring your body, spreading goosebumps with his touch.

Then finally, you felt his digits infiltrate under your shirt, and in a moment, you were fully naked.

Next, his lips were on you, on your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, all painted with the sweetest of tiny pecks as he kept caressing your body.

One of your hands went to his back, keeping him close, while the other trailed down his bare chest longing for his manhood.

"please baby" you whined "I know I said I wasn't desperate before but I take it all back" you laughed softly "Please, I need you"

"You need me?" he kissed your mouth, and you nodded

"I do"

"I do too" he purred, kissing you again before positioning himself at your entrance.

"you ready?"

"please"

And just like that, he thrusted into you.

You moaned far too loudly as he groaned.

For as many times as you'd felt him, you could never quite get used to it, he still stretched you in the best way.

"god" he growled "you feel so good sweetheart" he started moving "You're perfect"

There were so many things you wanted to say, but his dick hitting you so deep was causing troubles to the communicating part of your brain.

"I can't believe you're mine" he spoke, "that you want this"

"of course I do" you moaned " I want to be yours Din" you cried "only yours"

The bed was creaking underneath you, and his thrusts were soft and sweet, but god if they weren't deep.

"I want to have your kid"

"you do?" his breath fanned over your mouth

"I do, Din" you promised "I want to have another mini-you that will help you make me go mad" you laughed "I want to have a bigger family" you breathed "to be yours, forever"

He couldn't do anything but kiss you, hoping that at least one percent of his adoration for you passed through.

"I love you more than anything y/n" he said "and I want to give you my kid" he swore "to see in them all I see in you" he continued, as his thrust continued undaunted "and to grant them the best mother one could ask for"

You smiled widely, feeling tears prick your eyes.

"then do, baby" You intertwined your hands behind his neck, bringing his lips to yours "give me your kid"

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batesmotelofficial · 2 months ago

Text

[ the Exorcist au 😁 ]

*Norman was curled up against the wall with those clamps on his wrists, so he didn't try to choke anyone out again..., well..., or so his mother wouldn't try to again, he was convinced he was possessed after he murdered her, just like she said she would do if he ever carried it out..., he did write about what he would do in the journal she violated for him despite him asking for at least a lick of privacy to write down his thoughts, which he had a lot of, and bird sketches..., which were probably the tamest thing in the book she had read..., maybe that's why she was always after him, because of those women he used to draw, or the death threats, which eventually were carried out, thanks to her*

*she still drank the tea, and that's all that mattered to him in the moment... What mattered now is the burning in his throat, and his head..., mainly in his throat from where he had kept throwing up and where those nuns kept making him drink that water..., all it did was burn him, and he didn't understand why, nobody cared to explain it to him, they never did*

*he paused, seeing his mother again in the corner of the room. A few blood infested tears ran down his face as he cried out for help while his mother approached him, non-cautiously, due to him being bount up against the floor, where the priestess said he would be safe from his mother..., she was wrong, and he was alone with her again. He thrashed against the floor, screaming before Norma rested a heel on his chest, making him stop as she bent down toward Norman, caressing his face in the slightest*

...if you tell that girl about me..., I'll make you be in more pain than that water caused..., for a long time...

*Norman blinked silently as he stared up at her before turning his head to the side, staring at the door as the blood from his eyes made a water spot vast enough to see his own reflection, missing Normas*

...did you hear me?

*Norman paused before looking back up to his mother, nodding softly as she smiled, giving him a pathetic pat on the head before walking off to the other side of the room again, watching him as the camera in the corner of the room flickered...*

*he lied limply against the mattress they had put in there for him. It was filthy now from his spit, vomit, and tears. But that was, in all honesty, the last thing on his mind at the moment..., he wanted a rest, not having slept since he killed his mother a few weeks ago and her lover, which he didnt care about Chet, but he did care about his mother, at least until she basically abandoned him for that man..., he couldn't help his chronic jealousy, especially since she hurt him, then he killed her..., then she killed those people..., which made him feel even more so guilty, despite not having done it himself it was done with his body, his hands were the ones covered in blood while she was praised for having been one of the ones he killed..., one of the ones that tortured him while he still felt some worth to himself. Which he didn't feel anymore due to the fact he felt as though he hadn't showered for possibly months, not that he could tell time much anymore from having been in this room, this house, for so long..., time seemed to be nothing but a protocol people worked by anymore..., but he couldn't do any work chained up to the floor like an animal, which he thought he was worse than. Worse than anything the God that abandoned him could make, considering the suffering he allowed him to go through, from his mother, those people out at the motel..., especially those girls who teased him when he was younger..., he couldn't help that he was home all the time, that he had such an attachment to his mother..., the one that never cared about him or anything he liked..., like his taxidermy, which he did to her, with multiple regrets..., he figured if he had buried the body instead of keeping it this wouldn't be happening to him, he would be living happily by himself, probably in his room right now, reading a book he liked..., as soon as he got out of this, he probably wouldn't step foot near a Bible, or a pentagram, anything that could possibly bring his mother back he hated..., he hated the way she was staring at him right now, smiling to herself about all the pain he was going through in that moment, finding it funny how he was vomiting as though he were the one who had just been poisoned, or crying like he popped blood vessels, maybe even ones in his cortex from throwing his head against the floor..., anything she thought she could put him through that would hurt, hurt worse than what he did to her, because Norma figured he deserved it..., she told him he would have it coming after he killed her*

*Norman pushed himself to where he could sit up and turn away from her, into the mattress those nuns had put against the wall, attempting to keep him from hurting himself, which didn't work with a lot of determination and force..., he could feel his mothers hand against the back of his head now, beckoning for him to try and smother himself. He shook his head softly, trying to convince her to stop it..., which she didn't, she used all her force to shove him into the wall, holding him there as he thrashed against the short chains, trying to get himself free and fight back, but due to his dehydration and lack of food he didn't get much of anywhere besides a few full hearted screams and cries as he tried to convince somebody to come and help, he knew those priests and nuns were nearby, but he wasn't convinced they would help after he..., no, she tried to kill them, that's why he was chained to the floor to begin with, why he was locked in this cellar instead of his bedroom, because he could break his bedframe, but he can't pull himself from a concrete floor..., or well, she couldn't. And that's why Norma was trying to get rid of him now, because he was of no use to her without being free, she thought he had enough torture, for now, and that he could have a small break before having to see her in the afterlife and do what she was doing..., she knew he would hate that, how he hated inflicting pain on people because that's what she did, what she liked..., he tried not to like anything she did, tried not to be like her*

*he attempted to pull away from the mattress again before gasping for air, attempting to stay awake as blood dripped down his face from having been shoved so hard against the wall...*

*he stopped gasping and listened as the door opened. Norma dropped his head back against the floor and he looked up at her walked in, his pupils dilating from where they were blown out from him almost passing out, and his borderline concussion from lack of air. He tried rubbing the blood from his face with little to no success... Depressingly enough he looked filthy, with a stench to match, most of those nuns and people were afraid to get near him after what his mother had tried to do, which he wasn't proud of, and he wished he had never killed her and had just moved out, had defied her..., he supposed those sins were deadly for a reason, and sadly, he found out the hard way*

[ @girl-stuck-in-the-delusion, my freak partner ]

#rp starter #mod 3

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 8 months ago

Note

As you know by now, I absolutely love your headcanons, especially about the Vees, so I was curious to know that you think their love life might have been like on earth. Vox, I could imagine being married and having kids for appearance sake, but hating it. Val, I could see getting married once when he's still young, but overall being more of a fuckboy with plenty of illegitimate children. And Velvette, I'm not really sure. What are your thoughts on the Vees here?

tw // mentions of abuse and suicide

Ohh that's a good one!

So let's start with Vox. You've read my fanfic so you know about his wife. Her name was Vivienne and he was crazily in love with her. Well, at the beginning at least. Honestly, he was in love with the idea of her and how perfect they could have been. He proposed to her quickly and she was essentially pressed into the marriage by her parents, because who would deny a famous multimillionaire? But she fucking despised him and used every opportunity to remind him about that. Vox so desperately wanted her to follow his fantasy he grew to be abusive, constantly struggling between love for the imagined version of her and hatred towards her true self. They've never had a children though because she didn't want to be mother of his children and he didn't want to share her attention with anyone. You know how it turned out for them.

Valentino has never gotten married because he's not a monogamous type. His idea of love is an obsessive passion so in his mind he loved many people. None of his significant ones could bare him for longer than few months. Plus his way of living didn't support building stable realtionships. Any person he loved met a morbid end - killed in a fight between cartels, committed suicide to escape abuse, died of drug overdose or murdered by him. He thinks of himself as a tragic romantic hero, never destined to get his happily ever after because of course he doesn't recognize that he was the problem all along. Also I totally agree he has a bunch of illegitimate children and wouldn't be able to recall a single of their mothers' names. Actually I kinda like the idea that he has a daughter somewhere in hell that is currently plotting how to kill him for being a fucking garbage of a man.

Velvette I headcanon as aromantic and having a severe intimacy issues (disclaimer: those two things are not by any means connected, aromanticism doesn't equal any kind of issue and aro people can built deep and fulfilling raltionships; Velvette is just evil and self centred, that's the problem). So she has never had a love life per se but during her living days as a influencer she dated some fuckboy that looked good on her Instagram and helped her with building brand. Her followers were obsessed with their unhinged not-like-other-couples content, similarly that people used to be obsessed with Harley and Joker in 2010s. But of course Velvette was the big daddy in this relationship, he was just an arm candy, some dumb rich Jared recording emo tracks funded by his parent's money.

#hazbin hotel #vox #valentino #velvette #vox hazbin #valentino hazbin #hazbin velvette #headcanon #ask

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tech-whale · 2 years ago

Text

Misread Emotions

Pairing: Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Maybe some angst it’s probably not that bad though, fluff, that's it

I do not give permission to people republishing, printing, copying, reposting or stealing my stories

✧☽☀☾✧☽☀☾✧☽☀☾✧☽☀☾✧☽☀☾✧☽☀☾✧☽☀☾✧☽☀☾✧

Blaise Zabini was a man of few words, many people found him intimidating, and many others at Hogwarts couldn't understand the little things he did to express his emotions. You could though, at least you liked to think that, you would catch how he smiled to himself when one of his friends did something amusing, or the looks of irritation at some of their more unfavourable actions, his way of looking right through people he didn't care for as if they had never existed in the first place, and the look he gave you one of annoyance.

You could never understand what you had done to make him find you so annoying and unapproachable that his opinion of you could never change, but you did remember the first time he had given you that look, it had been in your fourth year Snape along with many of the other professors decided that since there was a competition your school was competing in they should promote inter-house unity, although you believed that Snape was forced to do it. Snape taking his chance to torture his students even more decided to choose our partners for potions for the whole year and he had pit you with Blaise Zabini. When you had first been put with him you were ecstatic, you had been harbouring feelings for the boy but the annoyance that spread across his face the more you talked with him lowered, and lowered your hope of any romance blooming between the two of you.

So now you sat hopelessly staring at him while he sat eating utterly oblivious to your longing stare. However, you couldn't say much as you had tuned out to what your friends had been talking about until one of them shook you much too harshly in your opinion and brought your attention back to your table.

“Are you staring at Zabini again?” Susan questioned, turning to answer her you took in the unimpressed look on her face and changed your answer to one that would not make her lecture you for hours.

“NO, I have completely and utterly forgotten about him. Why should I like someone after what happened.” You remarked, stuffing slices of peach into your mouth to avoid having to talk about this anymore.

“Because you so got over him after that, and didn't get drunk last year and confess your love for him to us during a party.” Susan quipped back, you cringed at the mention of that party, but even more, so that people still remembered the ‘incident’, even though you were the one that brought it up.

The ‘incident’ as everyone had named it was something known throughout the entirety of the housemates in your year as well as quite a few other students in your year and a few above. The ‘incident’ occurred about a month before the yule ball in your 4th year, right around when everybody else started to ask people out to the ball.

It had been a nice day. You remember that the ground was covered in snow but it wasn't too windy and there weren't any clouds so the sun had direct access to the usually freezing halls of Hogwarts. You had planned it out from scouting, or as Susan called it stalking, you figured out what Zabini usually favoured at Honeydukes and found out about a book he had been eyeing up for the past few weeks. And so you were ready to give Zabini his gifts, ask him to the ball where the two of your loves would be cemented forever and he would then ask you to be his partner and you would live happily ever after the end. Well, maybe not all of that but you were at least hoping that he would accept you as a date to the ball. You had tuned into all the gossip in the school to make sure he did not have a date, even going as far as getting the Hogwarts gossip magazine some of the students usually put together. The ball was filled with people and their dates as well as speculated dates to the ball.

Carrying your bag of gifts you looked for him across the courtyard, having seen Draco and his posey walkout there only a few moments ago, finally spotting him walking away from the group you took the chance and made your way over to him.

“Zabini could I speak with you for a moment?” You asked, your fingers fiddling with the ends of the string you used to tie the bag together. The only response he gave you was a silent nod of the head.

I just wanted to give you this and ask if you wanted to go to the Yule ball with me?” You stuttered out, thrusting the bag into his chest and locking your arms at your side once he took the gift from you. You waited for his response until you heard the horrible sound of mocking laughter. Looking up you spotted Draco and his gang walking up to the two of you as he and the rest of them laughed and pointed at you. You looked towards Blaises face to see if he would say anything to defend you or to make fun of you. Instead of being met with laughter by him, you were met with a face full of disgust, it was worse than any rejection you had imagined in your head. He looked down at you with such a horrid facial expression, if it had ended there you would have been fine but no, he dropped the bag you had given him onto the ground for the contents to spill out onto the snow-covered ground.

“Oh Blaise don’t be cruel, it’s obvious that they are madly in love with you.” Pansy mocked in her usual high and annoyingly squeaky voice.

“She’s right you know Zabini, you really shouldn't be cruel your admirer at least had the idea to corner you alone.” Draco jested, as he walked over to wrap an arm around Zabinis shoulders and peek at what you had gotten his friend, only to shriek in delight when he realised that you must have put great detail into finding out what his friend enjoyed.

“Why are you still here?” You heard a cold voice ask, looking up Blaise's face of disgust looked down at you and with that, you turned on your heel and took off back to the Hufflepuff common room where you could cry to the comfort of your friends.

But even as you ran from them you could still hear the jests and taunts that the Syltherins threw at you, you really should have listened to your friends.

Shaking your head you tried to push the memory back into the locked box in your brain that it was usually located in and tune back into what your friends were doing, only to realise that they had gotten up and were grabbing their bags to go.

“Where are you guys going?” You asked curiously as usually, they would stay the entirety of lunch and rarely ever wanted to leave, though you felt pretty silly when they looked at you as if you had just forgotten the most essential thing in the world.

“We have potions now, and you know how long it takes to get to the dungeons,” Susan answered, shaking her head as she muttered curses at you, realising yes it was time to go, you shot up from your spot at the table, careful not to spill any food on your uniform and grabbed your bag to head to potions with your friends.

Entering the potion classroom you slipped into your seat doing your best to avoid the gaze of your teacher at any of the students you had arrived late to the classroom. Slughorn takes the same wanting of inter-house unity as Snape had done two years ago, although with a much smaller group.

The stool next to you was pulled out from under the desk causing you to tense up at the presence that had now joined you at your table. You could feel his eyes boring holes into your skull as you pulled out a quill and some parchment, pausing when Slughorn called you all to gather around his desk to be introduced to the potion that you would all begin to start brewing.

Slughorn introduced the potion that you would be brewing: Amortencia, a powerful love potion. Deciding to show one of the potions many interesting natures he called each student up to come and smell the potion. You fiddled with a fraying edge on your robe as you waited for Slughorn to call you up, the anticipation slowly eating away at your nerves. You knew what you were going to smell, or more likely who you were going to smell, you just really didn't want to have to admit that to your friends who would inevitably ask once class was over.

Finally, after what felt like hours, probably only a couple of minutes, you were called to the front of the class. Leaning over the cauldron you were jit with the smell of earl grey tea, expensive cologne, old inks, and the yellowing pages of the books in the library. All smell’s you would associate with Blaise Zabini.

Moving back to your spot with the rest of your class you kept your head right at the board to avoid the wanting stares your friends were casting at you. Although looking straight ahead also gave you the view right across the caldron holding the potion, giving you perfect sight of each student's face as they each went to smell it, and just your luck the person right across from you now was Blaise Zabini. Watching him as he shifted his body forward wafting the scent of the potion up. After a moment his eyes flickered up and you could have sworn that he smirked just slightly when your eyes met. But just as quickly as you saw it disappeared and he went back to his spot at the back of his class with the rest of Dracos posey.

The rest of the class went by relatively quickly, with what you can only describe as an aggressive amount of teasing grins and knowing looks thrown your way. But along with your friends being obnoxious, you could say that the accidental bumps of your and Zabini’s hands happened more than what would usually happen. You could also say that there was more lingering gaze coming from the boy beside you, you really couldn't have this happen it would only give you false hope.

And just as you thought once you had arrived in the common room you were swarmed by your friends with a million questions about what you had smelled, or should you say who you smelled.

“Come on (Insert Name), you have got to tell us.” Susan chided as she rocked you back and forth trying to convince you to tell her who it was.

“Well, I did smell some expensive cologne, old ink, and old books.” You answered back being careful with what you said to not give away who exactly it could be, although knowing your friends and what they knew of you it couldn't be more obvious.

“That's just things you would use to describe Blaise, honestly you keep saying you got over him but it is so obvious that you're still head over heels for him. Just admit that you like him, even though he’s a total jerk and doesn't deserve you, the heart is an uncontrollable force.” Susan spoke, wrapping you in a warm embrace as she cuddled up to you on the couch so you wouldn't have to wallow in pity on your own.

Moving on from that day you noticed a significant shift in Blasises actions, in the great hall during meals you made more eye contact with him and he seemed to hold it for longer, in hallways or crowds it seemed like he would look for you in them always being able to find your eyes, it was even more extreme the accidental bumping of your hands happened even more and it seemed like his hand would linger each time.

It all concluded when you felt someone bump into your back looking at who it was, you saw Zabini walking away from you. Just as you were about to call out to him you felt something in your hand, not understanding how you hadn't felt it there before you opened your hand to find a neatly folded piece of paper.

‘I’m sorry, meet me by the lake at midnight sharp.’ the note read out in handwriting that was oddly familiar to you.

And so for the rest of the day, you waited anxiously for 12 to roll around, and when it finally did you threw on your sweater and snuck out of your dorm careful not to wake any of your roommates who would insist on coming with you so that nothing bad happens to you.

Slipping into the corridor waited to hear any footsteps before you carried on, hurrying through the passages out to the lake where you saw a figure standing, the moonlight reflecting off the lake and onto them creating a halo around them.

Standing in front of the figure you were met with the face you had memorized so many times, the face that made your heart swell and the very face that shattered your heart into a million pieces.

“Zabini what are you doing here?” You asked shifting on your feet as you stated out at the lake refusing to meet his eyes.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened that day, I shouldn't have acted like that. I was flustered and I got nervous. No one I have ever liked has confessed to me like that.” He answered reaching out and grabbing your hand. Looking at his face it was filled with a softness you had never seen directed at you, a softness that you had never seen ever.

“I know that's not an excuse for what I said but I would like to start over, I want to be something with you, anything, please.” He continued his grip on your hand tightening.

“I think we could be something.” You said laughing up at him.

“Oh and I loved the book, thank you.” He said softly as the two of you leaned in meeting each other as the moon danced across the water.

#blaise zabini x reader #blaise x reader #blaise zabini #harry potter #magic #hogwarts #harry potter x reader #x reader #wizard x reader

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unclewaynemunson · 2 years ago

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Remember the Wingman Wayne AU? I decided to write a sequel :D (it can be read separately tho, so this is a new part 1 of 8!) | also on ao3 now

'Robbie!'

Steve startles her by loudly drumming his hands onto the counter and she turns around to look at him.

'Why are you here? Did you forget it's your day off today?' She slams a pile of tapes on the counter, right next to his hand, making him jerk it away reflexively.

'Watch out for my hands!'

'Then stop being so annoying!'

He sighs dramatically, but ceases his incessant drumming and instead leans his elbows on the counter.

'Would you like to go on a date with the most perfect girl in the world?' he asks, sounding like he's presenting some kind of game show and about to reveal which prize she has won.

Robin wrinkles her nose. 'Why do you sound like you're scamming me?'

'I'm not scamming you!' he exclaims in an indignant tone. 'I literally have the perfect girl to set you up with, trust me!'

'And what's the catch?'

'No catch.'

'Are you absolutely one hundred percent sure about that?'

'Yes!' he calls out in an exasperated voice.

She squints her eyes at him, but decides to give him the benefit of the doubt – for now, at least.

'Alright, I'm interested. What's her name?'

'Uhh... I – can't tell you. It's a blind date.'

She squints even harder, making Steve's face almost disappear from her vision.

'You don't know her name, do you?'

'Uhh...'

'Steve.' She sighs. 'What did you do? Did you get scammed?'

'No!' He raises his hands. 'No scam, alright? I just – I forgot to ask her name.'

'Okay, so in what uncivilized gutter did you pick up this presumably perfect lesbian who doesn't even properly introduce herself to the guy who wants to set her up with what may possibly be the love of her life?'

'I haven't actually met her,' Steve admits. 'No, no, listen!' he quickly adds when Robin opens her mouth. 'Remember Eddie's uncle, Wayne? The one who set me up with the love of my life?'

Robin nods. 'Impossible to forget, you talk about him constantly when you're not talking about Eddie. It's weird and mildly creepy.'

'I can't help that the man is fucking awesome!'

God, it really is too easy to get Steve all huffy.

'Okay, so I haven't actually met this girl, but Wayne has! And he thinks she's the perfect match for you, and me and Eddie are living proof that he's always right about that shit. So you should definitely go on a date with her. She's a reporter, that's cool, right?'

'Very cool,' Robin replies blankly. 'And how much did you tell him about me? Because I never met the man, dingus, so forgive me if I'm a little skeptical about how he knows I'd be such a perfect match for this mystery nameless reporter girl.'

'He knows enough about you, alright? Can you please just trust his judgment on this one? Worst case scenario, it'll cost you a few hours of your time. Best case scenario, you'll find your true love and live happily ever after.'

That is actually an annoyingly strong argument – well, not the happily-ever-after shit, that's way over the top, but Robin does have nothing to lose here; even though she doesn’t know Eddie's uncle, she trusts the man enough to believe that he wouldn't set her up with some creepy psychopath. So she might as well go for it and see what happens. She has to admit she's curious about the girl. It's not like she has a huge range of queer women to choose from around Hawkins, so it would be rather stupid to waste this chance without even trying, right? It's been a while since she actually dated. She broke up with Vickie months ago and her lack of dates has less to do with not being ready to move on and more with the fact that she's a lesbian living in goddamn Hawkins, Indiana.

'Alright, I'm in,' she decides, causing Steve to cheer and pump his fist in the air like some gross straight dudebro.

'YES!' he yells out. 'Alright, I'll call Wayne to let him know that you're in. And you should be ready for a romantic dinner at Benny's tomorrow at 7 o'clock. I'll take your evening shift, no need to thank me.'

'A romantic dinner at Benny's?' Robin repeats in an incredulous voice. 'Are you sure I wanna meet this girl if that's peak romance for her?'

Steve excited smile drops so fast it's almost comical. 'It was Wayne's idea, okay,' he says, and it sounds slightly more defensive than necessary. 'The man lives in a trailer park, cut him some slack.'

And something about that is oddly cute – both the fact that Steve is so ready to defend Mr. Munson and the idea of this middle-aged straight man picking out Benny's Burgers as a go-to lesbian date location.

'Okay, I won't complain,' she's quick to tell Steve. 'The burgers there are impeccable.'

'That's the spirit!' Steve's slightly too intense excitement is back on again. 'Tomorrow, 7. Be there or be prepared to stay alone forever.'

'That's a bit much,' she mumbles as Steve walks out of the store, turning around at the door to shoot finger guns at her while crashing into that one Fast Times cardboard cutout that's somehow always in his way. She snickers while turning her attention back to the tapes she had been sorting, trying not to think too hard about what’ll be waiting for her tomorrow evening.

Pt2

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #fruity ficlet

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secretlywritingstories · 14 days ago

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no but seriously imagine it | phan one shot

Summary: It has been 15 years since Dan and Phil met. They wake up on the Terrible Influence tour bus in Las Vegas on their anniversary with plans to see My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy later that day.

Word count: 2.5k

Tags: 2024!phan, reality, tour bus, sleepy cuddles, introspection, anniversary

No warnings

A/N: Happy phannie day! I hadn't planned to write something but I woke this morning with so many feels and they had to go somewhere! Despite the name, it only references the tumblr post.

Read on AO3 or below

Phil had called it fate. Dan had countered that it was a coincidence.

Yet, they formed their schedule around it.

Phil had reminded him of the meme that had been going around. Of them, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. Back when the bands were never likely to be active at the same time again and the two of them had yet to leave the closet. Clearly, just some tumblr shitpost, an emo multistan wanting to shove all of their interest into one singular moment for the heck of it. But well… all except P!ATD, they’ve kind of got a lot of cards lined up to be knocked down rather neatly.

Down to a festival with MCR and FOB being held on the anniversary of the day that him and Phil met. So, if they made sure to have that date free and be on tour right around Las Vegas, could anyone really blame them? Besides, they’re still emo and fanboys at heart too. It’s one of the reasons that they get their audience like this. They know what it’s like. They also just wanted to be at that festival for the music. A blast from the past.

Yet, it’s something strange to wake on the tour bus, assumably safely arrived in Las Vegas after the drive from Los Angeles. The two of them had stayed up late, wired from the LA show and the crew has clearly been letting them sleep in, even if they’re going to check into a hotel now.

The bed is surprisingly comfortable for a tour bus. Big enough that him and Phil can fit easily, even with their long limbs. No pretending to sleep anywhere but next to each other.

Phil is usually the first one to wake up back at home, but he’ll happily spend at least half an hour right upon waking to scroll TikTok, phone right up in his face to see without his glasses. He’ll only drop the phone if Dan snuggles close and distracts him. Lazy mornings are good.

This cannot be too lazy a morning. They need to be on the move. They’ve got plans for today. It’s a special day after all. A decade and a half. Holy shit, how is that real?

Dan snuggles close to Phil, uncaring if he wakes him. He kind of wants that to happen. Sleeping Phil is beautiful but it’s not just Phil’s appearance that Dan loves, though it is a nice bonus. It’s the mind inside of the man. The personality, the way he jokes, the way he smiles, the way he creates art, the way he holds onto Dan.

Dan was 17 years old when he clicked on an AmazingPhil video for the first time and it had felt like something clicked within him in turn. An instant obsession, he’d thought at the time. Binged all of the videos on his channel. Sat ready for the new ones to drop, so he could watch them immediately. Waited for a few months to tweet at Phil directly. Shoot his shot with this handsome emo boy with a mind so fascinating that it made Dan curious to learn more.

Because the fascination hadn’t lessened, only gotten worse. And now he knew it would only grow and grow.

Back then, he'd dreamt up scenarios of Phil replying. Scenarios of them getting together and living happily ever after. He was a lonely teenager who’d never had a best friend, and he was yearning in a way that felt like it consumed his whole being. He had seriously imagined it.

The vision he’d had ended up coming true in many ways. Maybe Dan should pride himself the psychic one instead of Phil.

Phil stirs a little as Dan pulls him into his arms. Little grunts of half-awareness, not enough to be fully awake, but he still moves closer on instinct. Arms heavy with sleep but reaching for Dan all the same.

Dan couldn’t have predicted this reality for them though. Not in his wildest dreams. YouTube had been a silly hobby for the both of them. He’d only started because of Phil. Wanted to be like him in every way back in the beginning. It was a good excuse for arranging a meet up, when it felt too big to admit that he just wanted to hang out. Be friends, lovers or maybe even something more than just romantic.

It’s because of Phil that Dan got to create so many things that he is proud of. This career that he’s not sure he’d ever have had, if it wasn’t for Phil deciding to turn on that camera back in 2007.

The career that they’ve built together is important. It has made them this life. But it’s not Dan’s favourite part. It could never be, especially when he has got Phil gradually waking up in his arms like this.

His breathing changes slowly, sleep clinging to his body as Phil clings to Dan’s, but it’s a lost cause. He’s been disturbed enough that he’ll wake now. He blinks up at Dan’s face, undoubtedly mostly seeing a blurry outline.

Yet, he smiles, because he always did have an uncanny ability to look right into Dan. It’s got nothing to do with his vision.

“You’re up early,” Phil says, only to close his eyes and snuggle closer to Dan again. Hiding his face in his shoulder and letting out a low hum.

“It’s our anniversary according to the internet,” Dan says instead of acknowledging what Phil said.

Honestly, it’s a day that they’ve just let go by without much fanfare most years. It’s a time where their audience loves to make edits and art of all kinds to celebrate the moment that Dan took the train up to Manchester and they met for the first time. That first selfie in the Apple Store where their much smaller audience was excited to see them together. Oh, the thousands of selfies that have followed after that first one.

You couldn’t have told those two kids. They couldn’t have known. Even if Dan had been hoping. For something long-lasting. For forever.

Iconic, when he struggles with commitment in so many other ways.

But never about Phil. It was strange how he was so certain about him, right from the start. Maybe he was just a hopeful adolescent, so full of yearning, but even back then, nothing had felt like finding Phil. Of meeting him, of loving him.

“Blessed day,” Phil mutters, still clearly tired.

He makes no mention of the fact that it took them a little while longer to put a label on it, but it hadn’t mattered. Not really. Labels have always been one of Dan’s enemies. He felt like nothing could quite capture him well enough, and even now, he feels like nothing can quite capture his and Phil’s relationship still. Perhaps that’s why he’s so prone to spin so many tales and metaphors of it, still grasping for words that can finally encompass all of it.

He is not sure he’ll ever find it, but he doesn’t mind.

Not as long as Phil stays right here, while he weaves each declaration into existence.

Dan reaches down to play with Phil’s hair. Still quite pristine blond in its current condition. The bleach has been a little harder on the hair, but Phil is doing a good job not letting it get too damaged. Takes care of it with that purple shampoo and all that.

Back when they met, Phil was dying his hair black and now he dyes it blond.

Back when they met, Dan straightened his curl into submission, now he allows them to live their best hobbit life.

Dark to light, constraints to freedom. Growth even in their appearances, like all they’ve matured couldn’t help but shine out of them.

“I’m excited for the show tonight,” Phil says, eyes still closed and breathing heavy. He could slip back into sleep if Dan would let him.

“We’re not performing tonight,” Dan says, hand still moving through Phil’s hair. Petting him. He knows that’s not what Phil means but he loves to tease.

Sure enough, Phil pinches his hip. Hard. Enough to hurt really, but no touch from Phil truly hurts. It just makes Dan laugh.

“The festival. It’ll bring me back to my youth.”

“Sure, old man,” Dan says.

It earns him another pinch, this time to his thigh and fair enough, this one does hurt a little. But it stings in a nice way. Grounds him and just makes his smile widen. Phil’s hands all over him is always a good thing.

Before Phil, he was touch-starved. Still feels it creep in when they’re apart for too long. Last time he was in USA doing We’re all doomed, they had gone the longest ever without seeing each other. The touch-starvation came back full force then. Dan was pretty sure he tried to live inside of Phil’s skin when he got back.

He’s so glad they’re back on this continent together for Terrible Influence. He loved doing his solo tour, but this feels right. Not like when he kept turning around with his eyes searching for Phil on instinct.

“I will bite you,” Phil threatens.

And he would. If Dan asked real nicely.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Stop being horny, I’m trying to threaten you,” Phil says but his voice is dancing along the words. Way too amused for them to have any effect.

“Do you think you’ll cry? Hearing the music?” Dan asks, pulling Phil even closer. They’d be fused together soon, but he feels the chill along his spine, remembering the month where he couldn’t touch him.

The only way to starve it off is bringing himself back to this moment. Phil in his arms. Dan might never let go.

“No,” Phil says, and his voice is flat. Deadpan. But then it softens a little. “It’ll be very cool though. To have those two sharing the stage.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees, but his mind is drifting again.

That’s the thing with collaboration, isn’t it? If you have two people, you really like, it’s only natural to want to bring them together. To see what would happen to have them side by side. Maybe they’ll enhance each other.

Like him and Phil did.

Dan is under no illusion that the two of them would be here if they’d decided to keep their private life entirely private. If they’d never done another video after that first pinof, the interest would not have grown to what it had been.

No, they bound themselves to each other in every way a human really can. Professionally, emotionally, romantically, sexually, reputationally, creatively, socially, physically.

Their very souls could be mates, if you believe in such a thing. It’s hard to remain a cynic about soulmates when you live a life like Dan does. But he will die on that hill. Maybe his and Phil’s souls are made of the same stardust, or whatever, but they are the ones who took fate into their own hands.

Dan saw Phil and reached out. Phil heard him and reached back.

He’ll not let some cosmic force take all of that from them. The cosmic force was not there when they struggled with privacy and uncertainty and all of it coming so close to boiling over. How they weathered the storm and found calmer seas again.

Even when those calmer seas made Dan was to visit land for a while. To feel the ground underneath his feet again. To have Phil be the one on the ship, and after a while, hand stretched and tempting with just a short voyage. To see what would happen.

Dan hadn’t been sure. He hadn’t trusted his own brain. But he’d trusted Phil. Believed him when he said that it would all work out.

And now they’re back on that ship and it’s faster than ever. Gliding through the waves as easily as nothing. Made stronger by all that its endured. Fifteen years on the sea.

It’s Phil’s fingertips on Dan’s chest that brings him back. Pressure, right where his heart is beating. His eyes are open now, and he’s propped himself up on the elbow. Still no glasses, so he can’t see shit, but he looks at Dan like he can.

“What are you doing?” Dan asks.

“Checking your heart, but it’s not racing. Thought maybe you were panicking.”

He can do that sometimes. In the existential crises, when the thoughts spiral too far, too deep, for him to make head or tails of it all. Phil was always the best person to bring him out of it.

“I wasn’t,” Dan answers honestly. “Just thinking about us. Nothing can panic me about that.”

Phil’s snort is telling enough.

Dan reconsiders. “Nothing can panic me about that anymore.”

“Good,” Phil says and then it’s his whole palm on Dan’s chest. Warm and alive. Steady, like the beat in Dan’s heart. “We should get up.”

He lets go of Dan to roll over to the other side of the bed and put on his glasses. He’s just thrown them on, and they’re crooked. Dan sits up and fixes them for him. Phil lets him. Habit.

He still looks sleepy and like he could melt back into Dan’s embrace. Dan might let him, if he didn’t know that soon they’ll find a knock on their door and be told they can check into their hotel room for the night.

It’ll be good to take a shower. Phil still doesn’t let anyone take a shower on the bus.

“We’re got the whole day until tonight. What do you want to do?” Dan asks.

He sees it, the way an idea flickers into Phil’s eyes. Something funny or sentimental. Dan perks up a little before he’d even opened his mouth.

“Starbucks.”

One word. Oh, so simple. But a reference all the same. That’s sentimental. And fun.

They do love a good memory. Hoards them in boxes and store them away safely to be revisited. Their history is special to them. And to their audience, who embarrassingly sometimes know the history better than themselves. They’ll never admit that though, and the audience will never see everything. Just the glimpses that they allow.

But sharing is fun. Having so many people care used to scare Dan but it doesn’t anymore. He and Phil know that they know. It’s been acknowledged and it’s only made things better.

“Sure, we’ll get you Starbucks with Dan,” Dan says and pulls the face, lips pulled taunt and just the barest hint of lifts in the corner. As square as he can make it to mimic the emoji that accompanied that tweet.

Phil tries to shove him off the bed. Fails and just falls into him instead. It ends in laughter, and tangled bodies, because of course it does.

They’ve never been able to resist getting tangled up in each other.

And it’s fitting to start the day with an old reference. Maybe it won’t be the only one today.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #19 october #phan fluff

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beautifulpersonpeach · 9 months ago

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Hello BPP,

I've been a BTS addict for more than a year now, and I'm trying to find the reason why me (a happily married and a mother of a wonderful teenage boy) became so obsessed with a boy group. Before my encounter with these young korean lads, I only bought albums from 5 artists: Enya (all of her albums, I 💖 her since 1995), Michael Jackson (some), Backstreet boys (sue me those were my teenage years), ABBA & QUEEN greatest hits. That's not much isn'it? But since 2023, I try to buy at least one BTS album every 6 months, and that in itself is HUGE for me. Why do I do that ? What do they do, more than others, to make me want to spend money on them?

I've never been interested in fan voting before and now, I try to vote everytime I can. Even I find myself insane, but I can't help it. I want to support them all the way... 🤯

At first my husband thought my obsession was temporary, but after a year, despite of making fun of me, he's trying to find BTS albums or else for me (what a sweetheart 🥰). He supports me but doesn't understand it either.

So a simple question : what make BTS so addictive?

Their stage presence, charisma, uniqueness, talent ?

For a few weeks I tried to come up with a clear answer but I can't formulate it... daeng...

According to you, what distinguesh them from others groups or artists ?

Bisous et heureuse de vous lire!

***

You have no idea how happy it made me to read you love Enya as well. That woman is a timeless treasure. And yeah she's one of the few artists aside from BTS whose music I've invested time and money into collecting.

Part of what you're asking is: what makes us spend money, time, resources, emotional labour, and more, on seven men halfway (maybe?) across the ocean from us?

"Even I find myself insane, but I can't help it. I want to support them all the way..."

Maybe we are insane. What's so wrong with that? Maybe we're kinda nuts to be so taken by these seven guys. So what?

Or maybe we're just suckers for good marketing. I know I am. Of course, other things matter as well but good marketing is something that BTS has down pat. It's kinda easy for them too because the guys are as authentic as they come around these parts. They're solid. There's no other group that could withstand the kind of scrutiny they're under without bucking. Not one. And incidentally BTS' musical talent is peerless.

So, yeah, the marketing. :)

Or maybe it's the fandom... That's the thing about fandoms - the reason fandoms exist is not for the idol, but for other fans. 90% of what people do here is discuss what other fans are doing. Not the music, not the performance, not even the idol themselves, but other fans doing fuck all. I'm not saying this to indict you. My point is that there is constant covert persuasion within the fandom to act like the rest of the group a.k.a. ARMYs. I keep saying fandom is a pressure cooker environment, and one way that shows up is covertly forming behaviours in people within the shared space/group, and if you haven't experienced being in big fandoms before it will be overwhelming. If you constantly see people who express their love for BTS by buying albums routinely, then it's easy to see how you might want to try it for yourself.

Because you do love BTS. At the end of the day, that's what it comes down to. I don't care to try to explain why. At least not for me. It might be their "stage presence, charisma, uniqueness, talent" as you said, or maybe they're just worth the love by being themselves and giving us the music and experiences they have so far.

I still get fever dreams remembering Agust D on tour last year, you know. I still remember what it felt like to hear his music live and see him perform. He was a beast. Buying his music sounds like a no brainer lol. And he's just one of seven similarly talented men together in one group. Their music is worthy of every award it ever gets. And their performances...

youtube

(There isn't a single group active today that has surpassed this video)

I've said before I followed BTS for years before calling myself an ARMY. Sometimes when I think about it, I'd been buying their albums regularly since 2015 - three years before I started calling myself a fan of BTS. Their music was just so good I couldn't ignore it. And this is when for most groups I'm so picky with buying albums.

I have to commend you for critically assessing (sort of) your desire to spend on BTS though. If we're indeed insane as we said above, it's better to be self-aware of the fact. So again, kudos for attempting to dissect what's really happening here. But, not to be preachy, I think it's important to also just let yourself enjoy things. If spending on BTS is coming ahead of meeting your basic needs and responsibilities, then listen to your gut and pull back. Go cold turkey if you need to and spend on nothing at all. But if that's not your experience, (and I don't think it is), then just let yourself enjoy loving them. In that case, it's enough to know BTS are phenomenal artists and good people who make us happy, and some of us have the desire, means and time to support them, and that's okay.

Isn't it enough that you enjoy BTS for whatever reason and want to sustain this thing you enjoy by investing into it? So long as you're prudent and resourceful? Or maybe... not? Nobody else's opinion matters anyway. It's your money and your time and you know best how to use it.

#bts

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kimbappykidding · 7 months ago

Text

Other Parts: Part One, Part Three and Part Four.

Because he was expecting a text from you any day now, Jeno couldn't step away from his phone. He tried to play to cool and left his phone facedown but he just kept wondering if he'd got a message yet and so decided to leave it face up and stop fighting it. Luckily you texted him later that same evening and Jeno smiled widely when he saw your message.

"So about that games night...we have to pick a day my brother is busy or he'll hog the remote. When is he busy when you're not?". Jeno knew you'd said it was because Jaemin was a hog which he could confirm but he also liked to think it was because you wanted alone time with him and he liked that idea. So he inspected the group schedule and came back with 5 dates, one this week and a few more later in the month to give you lots of options. You came back with the earliest one and Jeno realised that was only 2 days away!

The days passed quickly and before he knew it, you were outside the door. Jaemin had complained he was missing out on this but you'd broken to news to him and taken the blame. You'd claimed you had work at the other times and he could join next time. Jeno liked being your secret and happily went along with it. All of Jaemin's huffing and puffing was worth it when Jeno opened the door and saw you standing there.

The first thing he noticed was how great you looked and that brought him to the second thing he noticed...you were dressed soooo differently from how you dressed when you came over to hang out with Jaemin. You never looked bad when you played with Jaemin, Jeno always thought you looked good in joggers and athletic wear. It was more he noticed you'd purposefully made an effort, knowing you were going to see him. That thought alone excited Jeno and he couldn't help but give you a big smile.

He ushered you inside, helped you take your coat off and then showed you what he'd prepared. "So I got some snacks and drinks for us" Jeno said gesturing to the counter in the kitchen "and I figured we could order food in whenever we want to eat. I've made a list of all the good places and all the menus are on a pile on the table for you to look at". "Wow you're literally perfect" you said "you brought food and worked out ways to get more!" and Jeno smiled "is that the only thing you have to do to be perfect?". "No but it definitely gets you at least halfway there" you said and Jeno smiled, making a mental note to watch everything you ate and always have some in the apartment for you. "Well then I'll never stop doing it" Jeno said and with your snack choices, he led you through to the living room.

Jeno let you select the first game but of course, it was Arceus and he loved that game so was very happy to play it. You could play multi-player too so actually got to team up and Jeno was in full gamer mode wanting to impress you. "Wow you're really good at this!" you said as he took out an opponent with one move. Jeno shrugged "I've just played it a lot, it's one of my favourite things to do after a long day at work. I know that's boring and nerdy but...it's what I do" he trailed off and you smiled "I don't think it's boring. Plus you definitely do not look like a nerd and I think many geeky boys would be furious at you using their title". Jeno laughed "I think I can pull off the nerd look" and you shook your head "not at all, nerds don't have bodies like yours and can't do flips". Jeno went bright pink and only just realised the two of you were sat rather close together. He looked down rapidly, his blush growing and this time you couldn't pretend you hadn't seen it.

"Do I make you nervous?" you asked and Jeno blinked "I...kind of". You watched him "in a good or bad way?". "Definitely good" he said "you always have, ever since we were in school". "Really?" you asked and he nodded "I think you just have that effect on people" and you nodded "I like the effect I have on you". Jeno's breath caught in his throat and he turned to look at you properly "you do? Why?". You smirked and Jeno thought he was going to drop dead right there from how sexy you looked. "Because it's so gorgeous to see a hot guy like you look at me the way you are" you said with a husky tone. Jeno blushed looking away and you smiled "do you get uncomfortable when I compliment you?". Jeno nodded and you shook your head "you don't have to, I'm not that scary Jeno. I won't bite...not without permission". Jeno blushed again and with a chuckle, you moved away and grabbed the controller. "Okay I say we complete this section and move on to another game! There are lots of games I want to play and only so much time". "You can't leave a game in the middle of a level that's just poor etiquette" Jeno cried "come on Y/n I thought you were a serious gamer!" and you smiled. "Fine!" you agreed seeing the logic in Jeno's words but honestly he would've said anything to get you to stay longer.

You were still there when Jaemin got home in the early hours of the morning. You both said you didn't realise the time but you were both liars who just didn't want this to end. "Don't you have work in like 5 hours?" Jaemin asked and Jeno's eyes widened "what? Y/n you're going to be so tired!". "Yeah unless you go to sleep like right now so Jeno you pack up the stuff and I'll get Y/n some pillows so she can crash on the sofa". Jeno hopped up to help and cleared the living room while you got changed into some shorts and a top, this time your brother's which annoyed you but he'd beaten Jeno to it. You were wondering where Jeno had gotten to and found him in the kitchen making a smoothie. You smiled "still hungry after the bucket load of food we ate?" you asked. Jeno jumped nearly spilling it and he put the lid on before shaking his head. "No I thought I'd make it for you for breakfast tomorrow. That way you don't have to worry about breakfast and can get a few more minutes asleep. This was honestly so sweet and you stared at Jeno for a few seconds stunned. "I...thank you" you smiled "you're always so kind to me and it always surprises me. You're a great guy Jeno". Jeno loved your praise and went a light pink colour "thanks...I think you're a great girl" he said in reply.

You moved closer to him and went to say something when Jaemin appeared "there you are, everything ready now come on time for bed". You rolled your eyes "your my older brother by minutes not dad!". "I'm just trying to save everyone from sleep-deprived Y/n, you're a monster when you don't have sleep". You gasped and attacked Jaemin who you could always beat in a fight. He called Jeno for help but Jeno shook his head "sorry Jaemin but I'm not getting involved". "Traitor! I thought you liked me more than her?" he asked and a long silence followed. You could see Jeno felt awkward and smiled "well I should be going to bed, thanks for the amazing night Jeno we'll definitely do it again and thanks bro!" you said punching his shoulder and then disappeared. Jeno stayed in the kitchen to tidy away and Jaemin hovered around him like he wanted to say something but when Jeno looked at him he just said goodnight and left.

You were gone when Jeno got up the next day but you texted him again thanking him and asked when he was free to do it again which made Jeno's morning. You arranged to meet again and you and Jeno managed to dodge Jaemin 2 more times before he had enough and he arranged the games night...and turned into a group event.

Jaemin had invited all the NCT-Dream members and they'd all accepted, much to Jeno's horror. You'd accepted too and Jeno was purposefully waiting near the front door for you to arrive because he was worried you'd get lost. With 8 people coming Jaemin and Jeno's apartment seemed too small so Johnny had offered to host it at his house bringing the grand total to 9!

You'd never been to Johnny's house before and were unsure where you were going. Jeno had sent you directions but you'd also asked Jeno to be reachable in case you got lost. So he kept his eyes glued to his phone, hovering near the front door but acting like he wasn't so his members wouldn't get suspicious. The guys kept calling to him from the other room but Jeno just pretended he hadn't heard them and carried on waiting when he heard a door close. He looked out the window and saw you'd arrived and he got really excited before calming himself down. He rearranged his hair, brought his shoulders back, arms forward and opened the door.

You smiled when you saw him "I've got the right house!" and Jeno laughed "yeah you did it!". "Am I okay parking there?" you asked "I know I've blocked some of you in". "Yeah it's fine don't worry" Jeno said really not caring if the guys were blocked in so long as you were here. "Sorry this turned into a whole group thing" Jeno said and you smiled "are you apologising because I don't get you all to myself?" you asked and Jeno blinked. "I erm...I'm not saying you wanted me all alone" Jeno said unsure what to reply and you shook your head "no you're right I do enjoy our one-on-one game nights but don't worry I'm sure I'll cope" you said. Jeno blushed slightly and led you inside. "So everyone's here and we're all in the living room" Jeno explained "you can hang your coat here" he said and hung it up for you. By this point, the guys had seen you and began calling out to you.

You of course knew all the Dream guys and they all called out to you with various greetings. Then Jeno watched as Jaemin dragged you over to Johnny who you greeted as friendly as ever. Jeno knew you didn't say Johnny specifically when you were talking about attractive guys but he was still a pretty attractive and charming guy. Plus he was American so had that foreign charm and flare. So as Jaemin introduced you both Jeno held his breath waiting for the earth to start shaking or the romantic music to start playing but nothing happened. You said hi to Johnny and thanked him for inviting you over and he was friendly back. That was it and then you came back to Jeno "so what game are we playing first?".

The guys wanted to play a racing game which wasn't your and Jeno's go to but you both dutifully sat down and went along with it. The two of you had definitely got into a gaming routine and Jeno handed you the red remote without even thinking about it. Haechan had a problem with this.

"Hey" he whined "I want the red remote" and Jeno just looked at him "it's Y/n's". "Since when?" Haechan asked "I thought it was your controller". "Yeah but whenever we play Y/n has it" Jeno said "so she gets it, you can have the yellow one" and he shoved it into Haechan's hands. You laughed and stuck your tongue out at Haechan who pouted unhappyily. He ran off to tell Johnny but even Johnny didn't interfere. He could see the way Jeno looked at you and was happy to let the boy shoot his shot and if the red controller helped with that then so be it.

The afternoon passed quickly in a mixture of gaming and chatting. You got to know Jaemin and Jeno's members quickly and liked them all. They'd heard a lot about you and vice versa so it was fun to actually form friendships with them. Haechan forgave you for the controller incident and you spent 40 minutes debating who was the better artist Baekhyun or Kai. You were both stubborn and enthusiastic and just settled the argument by listening to each of the Exo's members solo and just gushed over them instead. Agreeing they were both great.

Jeno tried not to be creepy and overprotective but he made sure to keep an eye on you to make sure you were okay. He spotted you and Haechan's battle over Exo and didn't like hearing you saying how hot Kai's hips were. He made a mental note to ask for sexier choreography in the next comeback and to try and do the Rover challenge with Kai to show he had good hips too. He was debating texting Taeyong now to ask when you appeared best to him.

"Hi" you said and Jeno jumped "hey, you having a good time?". "I am actually, you're all pretty great and I see why my brother likes being an idol so much". Jeno nodded "yeah we're all pretty great...not as good as Baekhyun or Kai though" and you smirked. "Are you jealous?" you asked and Jeno blushed "no...but are his hips really that amazing?" he asked. You laughed and looked at Jeno "well maybe it's just because I haven't seen yours". Jeno turned even pinker at that but didn't look away this time. "I was just thinking of a way to show you them" he said and then froze as your eyes widened. He moved away and immediately explained what he meant. "As in through dance!" he said "I thought I should try Kai's Rover challenge. Oh god that sounded so wrong" and he was panicking when you put a hand on his arm. "Jeno it didn't sound wrong or atleast I didn't think it did". "You didn't?" he asked and you shook your head "how could anything you say sound wrong?" you asked "especially when you say things like that. I was actually quite excited with what ideas your words formed in my head".

Now Jeno was sure this must be some dream he was having. You were basically telling him you'd quite like to sleep with him and doing it in such a sexy way. Jeno had no idea what to say. His mind went straight to "yes please" but he couldn't say that so he blinked and tried to form words. Luckily Mark saved him. "Hey Y/n you going to game or just sit them flirting with Jeno all night?". You turned around and threw a cushion straight at Mark's head getting him in the face. The guys laughed and Jeno was happy, very pink because of Mark's comment but happy. "That's it, I'm playing this round just to beat Mark" you said and Johnny passed you his controller and gave up the good seat for you "be my guest".

Jeno watched you take on the guys in one of their favourite games and couldn't find you any hotter. You were the perfect girl for him and he wanted you so he decided today would be the day. Something would happen tonight and he wouldn't stammer or struggle to find his words. He'd let you know how he felt and the only way he was going to do that was to keep flirting with you.

So when you went to grab a drink from the kitchen he took his chance. He skipped over to your chair and sat in it. "Y/n's just gone to grab a drink, she'll be coming right back" Mark said and Jeno nodded "I know" making Mark smile. "But she'll want to sit there" Renjun said confused and Mark laughed "yeah dude that's the point!" and Renjun blinked before he got it "ohhh okay". Jeno was blushing slightly as the guys teased him and then you reentered the room.

You walked in and sighed immediately. "Jeno!" you cried seeing he'd taken your seat and he just smiled at you "mine now". "But I want to sit there" you whined "I'm playing next so I need to see the TV!". "I'm not stopping you" he replied and you pouted "Jeno!". Sorry I'm comfy so I'm not moving" Jeno said and with a sigh, you shrugged "fine!" and sat in his lap which was exactly what Jeno had wanted...until it backfired.

The game started and you were doing well playing Mark, however you were an expressive gamer who typically moved around a lot. Jeno hadn't noticed this before but now you were sitting on his lap he did.

You got excited when you were doing well in the game and would bounce slightly. When you first did it Jeno stiffened and realised he hadn't thought this through. Then when you were shot you sighed and moved further into his lap which made Jeno tense and he wondered if you were doing this on purpose. Then when you started bouncing again his hands went to your waist to try and stop you but you just ignored him. "Y/n" he whispered but you didn't pay him much mind. "Can talk busy winning" you said and started yelling at Mark who yelled back. Meanwhile, Jeno was trying to breathe deeply and just power through this. He told himself he could get through this...he HAD to!

5 minutes later all he could think about was you and everything he could feel with you pressed up against him. You seem to have well and truly forgotten he was beneath you and just used him like a chair. You even leaned your head back on his chest and touched his leg slightly when you rested your hand. Everything you did drove him crazy. Jeno could feel blood rushing to parts of him and knew he had to do something fast. "Y/n I have to get up" he said and you made a whine which really didn't help his situation. "But you're so comfy" you said with a smirk and Jeno blinked rapidly, trying to remain calm. He was worried any moment you'd realise what was happening and then you shot Renjun and let out a loud cheer pressing further into his lap. That was too much and Jeno was at his break point. Jeno shot up, picking you up with him, put you down in the chair and ran out of the room as quickly as he could.

You didn't notice what had happened too busy trying to defeat Renjun again but the other guys had. Mark and Haechan were in stitches and rushed to tell Jaemin everything. Johnny came to see if Jeno was okay and told him he could rest in his room if he was too embarrassed or couldn't see you right now. Jeno waited for little Jeno to calm down and then rested in Johnny's room like his hyung suggested. He was having a lie down when there was a knock at the door. For a second he froze, what if it was you? What if you knew? But then the door opened and it was someone even worse.

It was Jeamin.

"You got a boner because of my sister!" he cried and Jeno froze "shit". Jaemin was furious and Jeno tried to explain it. "It was just because she was sat in my lap and bouncing" he said "that was all. Any guy would've reacted the same way". "Why was she even in your lap in the first place?" Jaemin asked and Jeno looked down like a guilty puppy. "I stole her seat and refused to move". "So you wanted her to sit in your lap" Jaemin said and Jeno's blush was enough of an answer. "I knew there was something going on with all your secretive gaming dates when I'm conveniently busy and that weird moment in the kitchen the other week. What do you want with her Jeno?" Jaemin asked and the boy blushed. "I don't know I just think she's really hot okay! We've been talking more and she's really cool and funny. I like her" he admitted. Jaemin stared at him for a few seconds before he sighed. "You're lucky you're one of the nice ones" he said "just don't hurt her and I don't want to see anything. Got it?". "Wait you're giving me permission?" Jeno asked and Jaemin looked at him. "You don't need my permission, she's a grown woman but no I won't stand in the way of it". Jeno was stunned but really thankful and he conveyed that to Jaemin before he left. Jeno rested for a little longer but didn't want to cause a scene so returned later.

Things seemed to have calmed down and he saw you sat with Renjun quietly talking. Jeno felt warm again the second he looked at you so he purposefully went and sat next to Johnny instead. You smiled as he passed and he smiled back but thought he was still too emotional to face you again. Luckily you left 30 minutes later and once you'd gone he had to endure all the guy's teasing. Jaemin conveniently left the room while the guys roasted him. Once they'd ripped him to shreds they started focusing on the positives. "Well she's into you at least" Mark said and Jeno sat forwards "you think so?". "Yeah you could totally see it" Haechan said "well not in the same way as your attraction. She didn't get a boner but she was totally flirting with you". "Yeah and even the way she looked at you was hot" Johnny added "she wants you man". Jeno couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You apparently wanted him and now there was nothing stopping him from going for you.

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