#cos i know im gonna be exhausted when we get there and im gonna want to just go to sleep

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 296

Adjective: Deep-Seated

Noun: Threat

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Deep-Seated: firmly established at a deep or profound level

Threat: a statement of an intention to inflict pain, injury, damage, or other hostile action on someone in retribution for something done or not done; (law) a menace of bodily harm, such as may restrain a person's freedom of action; a person or thing likely to cause damage or danger; the possibility of trouble, danger, or ruin

[mikobeautifulheart]

JJK Men when you forget your umbrella PART 2

INCLUDING: Business Nanami and Teen Gojo

TW: Nothing but water here so. And no, there isn't any smut.

NOT EDITED- YOU HAVE BEEN WARRNED.

♧Nanami♧ (As an office worker)

Nanami reads the weather report to see how long the down pour of rain would last. He looked out the glass doors before picking up his brief case. A ding behind him indicated someone was coming out the elevator. He kept walking toward the door when he heard a breathy

"Crap"

It was your voice, he turned around to see you looking through your bag for an umbrella. The you looked up only to met Nanami's eyes.

"Uh Nanami. Good afternoon" You said

"Afternoon" he replyed.

"The rain is supposed to get harder from now" He said.

Your eyes widened. You were going to be soaking wet on the train home. You thought about running to the station, it wasn't to far but it wasn't close enough to get there dry.

"Are you going to the station?" He asked

You nodded your head and watched as he sighed and placed his brief case on the ground and took off his blazer.

"We can run there now, if you want. I forgot my umbrella to."

You couldn't help but nod trying to hide your smile and pink cheeks. Being a office worker sucked, except for your co-worker that you had a crush on. Nanami looked even better with out the blazer.

Was this a dream? You too stood outside the buildings cover before he stood beside you and held his blazer over you both.

"Ready?" He said

"Ready" you said holding his brief case against your chest with your bag on your shoulder.

"Okay 3....2...1"

You both got to the station mostly dry, couldn't say the same about his blazer though.

°Gojo° (Teen)

Gojo stood outside of the building that you two fully exorcised. You were exhausted and lost your bag somewhere in the building, presumably eaten by a curse and your umbrella along with it. The last thing you wanted to do was go home soaking wet. You walked out the building behind Gojo just staring at him.

"Lucky bastard." you mumbled. His infinity was on so the rain had no chance of touching him.

"What was that?" he said with a smirk

"Forgot your umbrella?"

"You have 6 eyes, YET YOU COULDN''T STOP THE CURSE FROM EATING MY UMBREALLA" You said.

"I had other priorities, like stopping the curse from, oh I don't know, EATING YOU."

"What ever." you sighed. You tying your shoes before you ran to the train station when you raised your head to see Gojo's hand out stretched infront of your eyes.

"Go on, take it." he said with a smile

You hesitated before slowly reaching and taking his hand. As soon as your hand was in his he grabbed tightly and pulled you into the middle of the street, completely catching you off guard.

"HEY! YOUR GONNA GET ME WET" You shouted

You both stood there for a moment.

"Am I...am I in you infinity?" You asked not feeling the rain at all.

"Yep" He said smiling joyfully as he began to walk you home.

"Well, goodnight then and thanks for the infinity." You said trying to avoid his blind fold. What dose it matter, what can't he see?

"No prob" he said as you closed the door.

"And then I pulled her out into the rain and I ACTUALLY USED INFINITY ON HER, NO SUGURU IM SERIOUS, I KNOW SHE LIKES ME, HER FACE WAS RED AND EVERYTHING" he said talking to Suguru on his phone while walking home.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: This is a part 2, part 1 was about Megmi and yuji int he same kind of sanario, atually i'll just leave the link for that righttttt here for you. Thanks for reading.

[multiplicity-positivity]

hi uh i could use some advice :<

im a host of a recent system of 20-ish and guh i am t i r e d

im mainly looking for advice on how to switch or just retreat into the headspace/leave front or even just kinda stop being fully aware while still being in front for awhile bc id rlly like to take a break and the realization that im most likely front attracted/frontstuck is kinda making me more tired of being in front

also if it helps at all my(&) system is parogenic + traumagenic in origin (specifically parotraumagenic) and theres kinda iffy communication between members (some of them i have clear communication with and they randomly pop up to say stuff, some i have no idea where they are and some of them i can usually only hear when im directly interacting with them).

afaik (as far as i know) only three?? ppl have rlly "fronted" per se, and the rest have been co-con

i apologize for the long and mildly depressing ask but any help is appreciated also dont forget to hydrate

Hello! We have some posts that might help you that we’d like to share if that’s okay. The first is a post we wrote a while back with some tips on switching from our own experience:

We’d also like to share this post by @rin-and-jade on being frontstuck or frontlocked, and how to go about unsticking yourself!

Our own system host (Parker) is almost always fronting to some extent. It can certainly be exhausting and disheartening fronting nonstop, especially when other members of your system can seemingly come and go as they please. He’s going to put some info under a cut for how he copes with fronting constantly, in case you want some advice on coping with being genuinely unable to switch out!

We hope something here will be helpful for you! We’re wishing you the best of luck with switching out or at least learning how best to cope with fronting in your future!

(Host here - I’ll just write this bit if thats okay. Anyway here’s some stuff I do to deal with The Horrors of perpetual existence)

Meditation

Taking a few moments to sit in comfortable silence can be useful for me when I’m feeling stressed or overwhelmed or straight up exhausted. Here’s how I meditate (I’m no expert and I’m sure there’s better ways to do this… this is just what I do)

- get in a comfortable position in a quiet place where I’m not likely to be disturbed

- set a timer on my phone for 5 minutes

- close my eyes, focus on my breathing

- don’t dwell on any thoughts but also don’t push them away; acknowledge them and let them go

- try to stay still and calm until my timer goes off

And that’s it. Sometimes I get interrupted by an alter or something outside, but for the most part, this is how I’ve been able to meditate effectively.

Rest

I take naps whenever I can. I sit down whenever I can. I’ll literally just close my eyes for a few minutes whenever I can. Our body has issues with chronic fatigue, and fronting constantly can sometimes exacerbate our exhaustion. So yeah I am a huge fan of naps and will often set a timer for like 15-20 minutes and snooze whenever the opportunity arises. Even just lying down with closed eyes can help replenish some energy.

Distractions

Reading, watching something on TV, or playing video games can help give me somewhat of a break even if I’m still fronting. I do tend to try and keep us distracted as much as possible… sometimes to our own detriment. But if you find that you really aren’t ever able to switch out, or if your system is specutien and that’s just the way your system functions, finding things you enjoy that can serve as distractions may help you as well.

Saying No

This one’s tough, but I’m trying to learn to say no when I’m overwhelmed or have too much on my plate. This means sometimes I’ll cancel plans, hand off a responsibility, make a compromise, or turn down an opportunity if I don’t have the energy for it.

Honestly idk how much my addition can help you, but if you find that you’re not ever able to switch out at all please know there’s other folks out there in similar positions. Hoping you can make the most of your situation, anon /genuine

[quodekash]

good morning, friends! im exhausted and only got like four hours of sleep, but at least im (kind of) mentally prepared to revisit the episode, so (you probably know the drill by now), here’s all my commentary and thoughts and stuff from the episode! 

i feel like its important for everyone to know that i made myself an ice tea at 11:30pm because i knew i wouldnt be able to survive the episode alone 

(and dont suggest that the ice tea is the cause of the lack of sleep, if anything it’s the only reason i got to sleep) 

i was very nervous in the beginning cos i was pretty sure photjanee wouldnt be homophobic but also what if she is 

props to her for not asking tinn cos he was visibly nervous/afraid 

and gun told gim and she didnt even say anything at first. she just looked so freaking proud, then hugged him and said “whoever you love, i love” and i love her so much she’s a freaking perfect mother 

PHOTJANEE’S NEURODIVERGENT AND AWESOME HUSBAND who is still nameless IS SITTING NEXT TO HER SO HE’S GONNA SAY SOME HELPFUL AND SUPPORTIVE WORDS 

“were you afraid to hear the answer” im sensing a recurring themeeee (if youve forgotten and somehow havent rewatched the show over and over again, in episode 6 gun kept saying he was afraid to hear the answer of who tinn liked) 

“i think if he’s ready, he’ll tell you himself. give it time. time for tinn and yourself.” I LOVE THIS MAN 

also side note: she’s really pretty 

i smell a sponsorship 

a canon printer sponsorship 

theyre so subtle with their sponsorships 

“by the way, this printer is so convenient, it can be used with any operating system, right?” NICE ONE GEM, REAL SUBTLE, NO ONE WILL KNOW 

TIWPOR TINNGUN DOUBLE DATE STUDY DATE ONCE AGAIN 

AND SOUNDWIN BEHIND THEM (and also yo and pat i guess) 

tinngun are always reminiscent of patpran, but so much throughout this episode it literally felt like i was watching bad buddy 

GUN FINALLY KNOWS THAT TIW KNOWS AND GUN IS LIKE ‘wait did you tell him’ AND TIW JUST GOES 

“do you think this nerd would succeed in getting your love without my help”

AND HE’S SO ICONIC AND HE’S SO RIGHT AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH OH MY GOSH 

also rip four and tinn’s homosecuality, they have to pretend to date for this music video 

also also WE GET TO SEE FOUR AND HER GIRLFRIEND AGAIN OMG I LOVE THEM 

THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY 

LOOK AT THEM AND THEIR IN-LOVE-NESS 

cant wait for the homophobia this episode /sarc

“we just have to wait until the dinosaurs are extinct and humans rule the world” TIW LITERALLY JUST SAID WE HAVE TO WAIT FOR ALL THE BOOMERS TO DIE OUT AND THEN GAYS CAN RULE THE WORLD THIS IS FREAKING HILARIOUS 

I CANT EXPLAIN IT, THEIR FACES ARE SO REMINISCENT OF PATPRAN AND MORE SO THAN USUAL 

does- does this count as a first kiss 

that was so sudden 

um

help??? 

theyre so cute tho i love them 

PROM DAY (looking back, how does so much happen in this one day) 

✨gotta love being outed✨

GUN JUST TOLD THE BROSKIS 

and por is, naturally, very excited 

but also somehow very oblivious 

i had a feeling yo knew already 

apparently sound told win ages ago (when? idk man) 

pat having a suspicion about it is actually very surprising 

“you and you, what’s going on? you’ve been weird” 

FINALLY THE SCENE OF THEM HOLDING HANDS AND SHOWING THE GUYS IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOR WAY TOO FREAKING LONG 

AND THEY BOTH LOOK SO FREAKING HAPPY 

IM DYING 

i need to ingrain every soundwin scene from this episode into my brain cos there’s so much of it and i want to see it all forever please 

tis raining and theyre under an umbrella and soundwin did it first 

okay so. it sucks that they were outed. and people shouldnt take photos of other people and then post it on social media because they can, cos thats an invasion of privacy and is not cool. 

on the other hand, everyone seems thrilled by it and tinngun aren’t hurt by it happening so i guess its okay 

in general tho people should not do this cos it could go very badly 

but this is a bl drama not real life so its fine 

I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE A NEUROSPICY GUY 

they did the happy arms 

and theyre sitting cross-legged on top of a table 

i love you random side character 

PAT AND POR BEING ALL HAPPY AND EXCITED IS HILARIOUS I LOVE THEM 

“no one cares about people’s sexual orientation these days. its a new world. right, pumpkin??” GUI4HERIH4IIGU (note to past me: it gets worse. you’re gonna progressively die even more) 

EW PEOPLE ARE MESSAGING PHOTJANEE SAYING TINN’S GONNA RUIN THE SCHOOL’S REPUTATION AND STUFF 

...what series was it 

did- did you watch bad buddy, photjanee 

did tinn’s parents watch bad buddy 

ive decided they watched bad buddy until proven otherwise 

‘its down to us whether we’re as kind to our son as those in the series’ THIS MAN HAS THE WISEST KINDEST WORDS AND I WANT TO GIVE HIM A BIG HUG 

tiw and tinn are actually really sad about kajorn leaving the student council which is slightly confusing (not cos i hate him, im finding it increasingly difficult to hate him, i just didn’t think tiw and tinn actually liked kajorn) 

‘people are arguing whether it’s guntinn or tinngun’ 

... 

im gonna say it 

i have to say it 

you cant stop me from saying it 

soundwin did it first 

(technically it was satangwinny vs winnysatang but thats not the point) 

there i said it 

hah 

babes she’s known for months 

(but yes absolutely if you’re comfortable telling her and you think you should, go right ahead :] )

i hate this teacher 

i would like to punch him please 

luckily i know, thanks to the preview last episode, that he does, in fact, get punched, so it’s all good 

KAJORN IS IN THE ROOM WHILE GUN IS DISTRESSED 

I REPEAT, JORN IS THERE 

yay tinn is there with gun while he cries 

thank you tinn for existing 

NO 

GO AWAY TEACHER 

DON’T ENTER THE ROOM 

"im sorry, i was just joking around with my friend, i didnt mean to insult you" yeah, okay, well thats only part of the problem. other problems are: a. the fact that you had to say such a horrible thing in order to joke around with your friend. if that's the kind of humour your friend has, that person should not be your friend, unless it's also your humour, in whcih case, that isnt a sincere apology. b. it's not just that you insulted gun. you also insulted an entire community of people, of students, of human beings, who just want to exist and live as people doing what they want to do. you cant say something homophobic and then only apologise because it hurt one person close to you. you say something homophobic, and then you apologise - in a way that you GENUINELY MEAN - and say you had no intention of hurting so many people, including gun. or, alternatively, dont say the homophobic thing in the first place. c) you’re a freaking TEACHER. a TEACHER is there to SUPPORT and CARE for ALL of their students. a TEACHER should not be saying terrible things where ANYONE could overhear. if a TEACHER cannot be supportive for ALL STUDENTS, then they should not be a teacher. (im a huge defender of teachers cos theyre human beings with lives and families and hobbies and theyre more than just the adult human that tells you 2 plus 2 is 4. but i am also a huge defender of students cos theyre human beings and also children and theyre still developing. and i am especially a defender of students and an offender of teachers when the teacher clearly hates children or isnt a good teacher or should not at all be a teacher. so this isnt me hating all teachers, i love teachers, i could talk about how unappreciated they are for hours. but i cannot stand it when a teacher behaves the way this teacher did. i hate it so freaking much.) 

THE TEACHER WAS “SHOCKED” COS GUN IS A “ROCKSTAR” SO THE TEACHER “THOUGHT YOU WERE MANLY” 

THATS NOT AN EXPLANATION NOR IS THAT AN APOLOGY 

GENDER AND SEXUAL IDENTITY ARE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FREAKING THINGS 

AND EVEN THEN, GENDER AND GENDER EXPRESSION ARE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FREAKING THINGS 

LIKING MEN DOESNT MAKE SOMEONE ANY LESS ‘MANLY’ SO STFU AND GET FIRED ALREADY 

FREAKING YES 

GOOD

HELL YES 

KAJORN PUNCHED THE TEACHER BEFORE TINN COULD 

THIS IS EVERYTHING I COULDVE ASKED FOR OR NEEDED 

I LOVE IT SO MUCH 

I LOVE KAJORN SO MUCH 

IM FINALLY ALLOWED TO NOT HATE HIM AND IM VERY GLAD ABOUT IT 

DAMN SOUND 

I MEAN I AGREE BUT WOW I WASNT EXPECTING THAT 

‘i HoPe YoU giVe A fAiR jUdGeMeNt oN tHiS cAsE’ bro its not court 

and absolutely she’ll give fair judgement 

shes freaking awesome and i love her 

also what does probation mean 

“don’t use violence to solve problems. do you understand?” okay, yes, im 100% on board with you, i completely agree, but, hear me out here: homophobia. 

I LOVE PHOTJANEE SO MUCH 

COLD AS ICE SHE GOES “if you’re not satisfied with my judgement, write a complaint. but dont forget to add every detail truthfully” 

SHE’S SO ICONIC 

TRULY A SLAY 

“LET GO OF MY SON. as principal, all i can do is submit a report regarding your behavior to those in authority. but as a mom, MY SON CAN LIKE WHOEVER HE LIKES. STAY OUT OF IT. if i hear anything filthy from you again, your penalty will go far beyond this” I FELT HER ANGER 

I LOVE HER WITH ALL MY SOUL 

SHES FREAKING AWESOME 

and kajorn looks so happy and content 

i love him 

PROM TIME AND THE STIMS ARE STIMMING REAL HARD RN 

WHY AM I CRYING WHILE LISTENING TO YOU’VE GOT MA BACK? THIS ISN’T A SAD SONG 

C O M E   C L O S E R 

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH POR 

OOOOO NEW SONG 

SOUNDWIN CHEEK KISS 

IM LITERALLY CRYING THEYRE SO CUTE 

(note to past me: it’s gonna get worse) 

aww gun’s in the audience singing directly to tinn this is so cute 

GRBRHKBGRIUBJROBUR

I WOULDVE BEEN CONTENT WITH JUST SOUND KISSING WIN BUT IM NOT COMPLAINING 

I AM THE OPPOSITE OF COMPLAINING 

GIREBVIRUB

TINN AND GUN ARE GOING ON THE STAGE TOGETHER HAND IN HAND 

HOW IS THIS SO FREAKING PERFECT 

AND SOUND’S GOT A GUITAR SOLO COS HE’S AWESOME LIKE THAT 

HAPPINESS 

BIG HAPPIES 

MUCH OF THE VERY HAPPINESS 

their hugs always look so comfy 

someone in the audience asked if theyre real and gun said nothing but hashtag #MySchoolPresident and it’s still so funny to me 

its like theyre telling us the watchers 

like USE TEH HASHTAG, PLEASE 

and we’re like WEVE ALREADY BEEN DOING THAT, CALM DOWN 

ew old teachers 

shut up with your judgy faces 

no one cares 

YAY FOR YOUNG PROGRESSIVE TEACHERS WHO DONT CARE WHAT THE BOOMERS THINK 

cos, as tiw said, the boomers will die out soon and then gays can rule the world 

can the episode just end here 

i dont want to go through the emotional turmoil of whats coming 

cos i know its coming 

there’s gonna be a graduation scene 

and im very scared 

my mentally ill butt can never be okay for graduation scenes 

and yet my mentally ill butt keeps consuming media set in the senior year of high school 

DAMN THIS ENDING IS GONNA BE LONG 

31:48 MINUTES 

STRAP IN YOUR SEATBELTS COS WE’RE GONNA BE IN FOR ONE EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER 

NO 

WAIT NO LET THERE BE MORE 

JUST ONE MORE 

OR TWO 

OR AN ENDLESS AMOUNT 

DON’T LET IT BE OVER 

PLEASE 

“its the last day of our high school lives.” ACK SHOOT FREAK FRENCH GUSTAV AND SHOELACES AND TURTLES AND FREAKING SHOOT NOODLES WHAT THE FLIP 

AH SHOOT I FORGOT ABOUT KAJORN BEING A YEAR YOUNGER THAN THEM 

HE HAS TO CARRY ON THEIR LEGACY WITHOUT THEM 

HES FREAKING ALONE 

IDEK IF HE HAS ANY FRIENDS 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ooo we’re gonna get another pool scene soon 

NO STOP IT WITH THE SIGNED SHIRTS I CANT TAKE IT 

‘no one ever asks if i can sign their shirts :[’ ‘sign my shirt’ 

‘ILL WRITE DOWN WHAT I FEEL THAT IM TOO AFRAID TO SAY’ I FREAKING LOVE THEM 

WAIT 

SHOOT

I KNOW I ASKED FOR IT BUT I DIDNT EXPECT THEM TO ACTUALLY DO IT 

IM IN SHOCK 

LITERALLY CRYING 

WHAT THE FLIP 

HOLY FREAK 

NO WAY 

THIS IS THE END 

THAT’S IT

IM DEAD

GONE

DECEASED

THEY FREAKING KISSED 

RIGHT THEN AND THERE 

PROPERLY KISSING 

BEFORE TINNGUN 

WHAT 

IS THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENING 

OW I PINCHED MYSELF 

I LITERALLY CANT BELIEVE IT 

“i wont let you kiss first you barstool” HOW ARE THEY SO- GJRBGIKRB

BUT ONCE ISNT ENOUGH 

OH NO, THEY HAVE TO KISS AGAIN 

JUST TO MAKE SURE IM DEAD 

THEY ALREADY STABBED ME A COUPLE TIMES 

THEN THEY KISSED AND THEY SLICED ME IN HALF WITH A REALLY COOL SWORD 

AND NOW THEYRE SLICING MY HEAD OFF JUST TO MAKE SURE IM DEAD 

‘STOP TRYING TO LOOK HANDSOME IDIOT BECAUSE ITS MAKING MY HEART SO WEAK’ I CANT WITH THESE TWO 

I LITERALLY CANT EVEN PROCESS THAT THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED 

SURELY IM DREAMING RIGHT NOW

THERES NO WAY THEY ACTUALLY FREAKING KISSED 

AND TIWPOR RIGHT AFTER??? IT’S TOO MUCH POWER 

AWWWWWW NOOK AND YOOOO

BUT POOR PAT IS COMPLETELY LONELY 

PLS LET PAT NOT BE LONELY FOREVER 

THEY BETTER GIVE PAT SOME HAPPINESS 

NO?? THEYRE JUST GONNA CHANGE THE SCENE LIKE THAT??? OKAY THEN???????? 

no but why wasnt tiwporpat an option 

they couldve gone down the polyamory route 

as much as i love poking fun at pat being lonely, i want him to be happy, and tiwporpat makes sense 

(i must also say that patjorn also makes sense and i wouldnt have been mad if they went down the tiwporpat route or the patjorn route. theyre both amazing. but no, they went with pat is lonely forever and its really freaking sad. thanks guys.) 

OH TINNGUN POOL SCENE 

POOL SCENE NUMBER... IDEK AT THIS POINT 

they should kiss btw 

GUN WROTE #MYSCHOOLPRESIDENT ON TINN’S SHIRT AND TINN WROTE ‘APPROVED BY THE SCHOOL PRESIDENT’ ON GUN’S SHIRT AND ITS SO FREAKING PERFECT 

IT COMES FULL CIRCLE SO BEAUTIFULLY 

THEY LITERALLY COULDNT HAVE WRITTEN ANYTHING GREATER 

I FREAKING LOVE THIS SHOW 

tinngun still have not kissed 

NO PLS I CANT TAKE IT WITH THE HEARTFELT SPEECHES 

HOW DO YOU CRY SILENTLY 

NO THEYRE PLAYING ONE LAST SONG TOGETHER 

STUFF YOU 

I LITERALLY DONT KNOW IF IVE EVER CRIED HARDER THAN I DID WHILE WATCHING THAT FREAKING FINAL SONG 

tinn’s father is so neurodivergent i love him 

OMG GUN IS ACTUALLY SITTING AT THEIR TABLE AND HAVING A MEAL WITH THEM 

IT’S NOT IMAGINARY GUN 

IT’S REAL GUN 

THIS IS CRAZY 

PFFFFFFT TINN’S DAD HELPED HIM WRITE THE SONG FOR GUN 

THAT’S FREAKING HILARIOUS 

OH MY GOSH THEYRE ABOUT TO KISS- 

darn you gun and your bloody hand in the way 

too many times 

this has happened far too many times 

just kiss 

please

YES 

GOOD 

EXCELLENT 

but also soundwin did it first 

ANYWAY THAT WAS PERFECT 

OH MY GOSH 

IM NOT OKAY 

(the funniest thing about me constantly saying ‘im dying’ or ‘im dead’ is that my fitbit hasnt been able to pick up on my heartrate for literally hours. like, since i started watching the episode. it just stopped working. and if your heart isnt beating, you’re quite literally dead.) 

final thoughts / main takeaways from that episode (and therefore the whole show) 

tinngun are very cute 

tinngun are patpran variants (we already knew this but still) 

tiwpor havent been dating the whole time but there was definite crushing for a very long time 

pat is sad and lonely and pls let there be tiwporpat or patjorn at some point in the future 

we need a sequel please and thank you 

soundwin are freaking perfect 

this show is perfection 

im mentally ill 

that teacher sucks 

tinn’s dad is neurodivergent and i love him 

photjanee is amazing and awesome and i love her 

gim is the greatest mother and i love her 

i love all of these characters way too much  and, last but not least, 

soundwin did it first. 

[that-writing-kangaroo-fish]

Hey who wants some of that Pokemon AU that @im-feelin-sick made (and i suppose i'm co-creator for)? I've been working on and off on my own contributions to it, and now I've got something finished (also on ao3 if you'd prefer reading there!)

(3/???)

(prev)

“Ya fucked up.”

“I know.”

“Badly.”

“I know.”

Sableye grumbled irritably at Nny’s subdued responses - glad that he was acknowledging what was being said, but also aggravated at this conversation’s existence. 

The pair of them (plus Houndstone, whose head was currently resting on Nny’s legs) wouldn’t be sitting here, Sableye having to stitch his wounds, if Nny hadn’t turned on a goddamn dime out of nowhere in the middle of his date with Devi.

But here they fucking were! And, honestly, it wasn’t just Nny who got hurt during that whole... thing. Sableye itself had stepped in after shoving aside its panic, and Nny’s other Pokemon fought back in kind.

They, however, didn’t have the years of experience Sableye did. Sure, it took a few hits, but nothing near as bad as the beating Nny got.

It was pretty sure a length of 2x4 got involved at one point.

“The fact that she didn’t cave in your skull would be a miracle if it weren’t for how thick the damn thing is,” it muttered, briefly stopping its ministrations to flick a claw against his head. 

Even in this mess, it wasn’t above a lighthearted jab or two. And, frankly, Sableye felt it had the right to be at least a little petty.

“Ow, ow, sore spot,” Nny winced, ducking his head. Sableye would’ve rolled its eyes if that were possible. “Your entire body is a sore spot right now, Johnny, c’mon. And stay still, I’m almost done with these stitches.”

--- HALF AN HOUR LATER ---

They were all situated on the couch; Nny cross-legged on one side, Houndstone curled up on the other, and Sableye perched on the back.

Sableye held up its closed hands. “Good news,” it raised a finger on its left hand, “nobody died.”

“And the--”

“Bad news,” a finger raised on its right hand, “you fucked up a perfectly good date,” another finger raised, “you got your ass kicked the worst it’s ever been,” a third, “and now someone who knows about your murderous tendencies is out and about.”

Nny’s head sunk lower with each addition. 

“And, bonus problem, Marshadow followed Devi on her way out,” Sableye concluded.

As it expected, Nny almost bolted off the couch, only kept in place by Houndstone, who let out a stubborn huff as it sprawled across Nny’s lap.

“Fucking-- Houndstone, move!” Nny shouted, to no success.

Sableye shook its head. “We already talked about this while dragging you back here,” it explained. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere, and, more importantly, I don’t think she’d listen to anything you have to say after the shit you pulled.”

They both knew Sableye had a point - at times, it was the closest thing he had to a proper voice of reason.

“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do? Sit around and live with the fact that that fucking thing is bound to cause problems for her?”

“Considering what happened a couple hours ago, yes. What’re you gonna do, write her a fucking apology note? “Sorry I tried to kill you,” or something, so she’ll listen to you?”

“...”

“Oh my fucking God don’t tell me you were actually considering that.” It looked, and sounded, thoroughly exhausted. Of fucking course he’d get that idea in his head. “I’m nipping that in the bud right now, that’s not gonna work out for you.”

Even with that shutdown, there was still a defiant, plotting look in Nny’s eyes. Some sort of plan was brewing in there, it could tell.

Sableye pinched between its eyes, slowly shaking its head. “I know you’re gonna do something stupid. At least try not to get caught,” it urged. It knew Nny well enough by now; when he got a particular kind of idea stuck in his head, he’d hardly ever budge on the matter.

If it’d known that Nny was planning on stalking, of all things, it would’ve beaten him over the head.

[mediawhorefics]

I was just wondering how you are doing? Are you still in New Zealand?

how am i doing lmao ... that's a complicated question anon, but thank you for asking it. i appreciate that <3

under a read more cos a lot has been going on and idk how interested people are ?

so, i'm actually not in nz anymore. it's kind of a long story, but i had some health issues while i was there. which tbh made the experience quite challenging. as much as i loved the place (and ESP the people), dealing with all of that on my own over there was really difficult...

but yeah, basically i have a pre-existing eye condition that we thought was stable and that wasn't covered by my insurance and pretty much from the moment i got there .... it just started getting worse and worse and worse. which, yk. was stressful and expensive. and it got to the point where i need to get surgery for it. and it wouldn't have been covered over there so i had to fly back. and if i want to be covered in canada, i have to stay in canada. at least for a while.

so yeah, that sucked. and it's been extremely stressful. and painful too yk. it really feels like it took me a long time to settle there and start really loving it and really loving my job. and just when i was starting to feel settled/good about things, it was taken from me. so yeah, i miss it. i miss what it could have been. i feel really sad about it all. and anxious about the surgery ofc. and about not knowing WHEN i'll have the surgery yet and what kind of surgery it will be etc. and how much my sight is gonna worsen in the meantime.... and tbh im also dealing with a fair bit of pain associated with it too so that sucks. but then, a part of me is also kind of relieved to be back home cause dealing with all of that by myself was..... a struggle and at least now im with family.

so yeah.... it's just been a lot lately and i'm kind of exhausted and just.... trying to distract myself and not like...... worry about stuff too much? and try not to worry about what i'm gonna do after the surgery cos right now i just feel........ like an aimless failure with zero prospect who failed at this big project i spent soooo long planning and it is not fun rip.

so yeah, things have been complicated.

the one silver lining is that i was able to plan a beautiful last minute trip for myself before i left nz so i still go to visit a lot of the places i was dying to see. i did have to compromise, but yk. im glad i was able to give myself that before i left.

[im-gonna-squeet]

3 times Tim tried to get Jon & Martin together, and 1 time he realised he didnt have to

this fic is a collab between me and @darth-shado

ao3

chapter 1

It had been exactly two weeks since Jon and Martin's follow-up , and Tim had yet to see an improvement in their relationship.

"Sasha," he groaned, flopping onto the seat across from her in the break room, "I can't beleive that didn't work! How has their relationship not changed at all?"

Sasha sent him a disbelieving look.

"It's literally only been two weeks, Tim, and it was one night." She replied, jokingly exasperated by her impatient co-worker's frustration.

And right as she finished that sentence, Tim's eyes lit up with an idea. That was never good.

"So what you're saying is..." Tim began, a grin spreading across his face as Sasha internally braced herself, "we need to set them up on another date."

"Not sure why I'm being roped into this, but I'm too exhausted to refuse. So yes, Timothy, we need to set them up on another date."

~~~~~~

"Hey, boss-man!" Tim stepped into Jon's office, sending finger guns his way, and ignoring the glare sent in return.

"Yes, Tim?" Jon asked, he barely glanced up from his statement, but Tim saw the way his hands slumped slightly, indicating that he had stopped reading and that Tim had his full attention.

"We haven't had a work dinner in a while, so I thought I'd be nice and organise one myself— unofficial, of course. And, surprise! You're invited, fancy coming along?"

Jon paused.

"It has been a while since we had a 'work bonding experience' so yes, I suppose I'll be there. Was there anything else or can I get back to my work?" Jon raised an eyebrow at his colleague, finally looking up from his statement and keeping his face otherwise professionally neutral.

"Nope, that was all, I'll leave you to it!" Tim saluted Jon as he left his office, silently celebrating his partial victory.

Now onto his next target, who he knew for certain was currently making everyone tea in the break room.

"Martin! Hey, how's my second favorite archival assistant doing?" Tim smirked, leaning against the counter next to him. Martin sighed, internally preparing himself for what was coming.

"What do you want, Tim?" Martin sighed, not wanting to delay the inevitable.

Tim flashed him a blinding smile at this.

"So there's this work dinner Sasha and I are planning this weekend, it's not official or anything so no need to dress up, are you gonna be there?" Tim asked him, but Martin knew that this wasn't really an offer.

"Well I've got nothing better to do, so I guess I will." He replied, knowing that if he tried to refuse, he'd only be badgered into agreeing anyway.

"Sweet! see ya there!" Getting what he wanted, Tim grabbed his & Sasha's finished teas and left, thanking Martin on his way out.

~~~~~~

"Well that was easier than expected." Tim remarked, leaning on the wall adjacent to Sasha's desk.

"We've all worked together for years now, Tim, they know you well enough by now to recognise your harebrained schemes." She replied, rolling her eyes.

Tim moved one hand from his mug to over his heart, gasping in feigned hurt. "Im offended, Sash, truly. My schemes are genius!" he shook his head, taking a sip of his tea.

Sasha let out a sigh that Tim knew was fake and shook her head. "Sure they are, Tim. Now shoo, go get back to work before Jon or Elias sees you." She made a swatting notion towards him.

As much as he wanted to stay and chat, Sasha was right, he really didnt want to be on the other end of either of his bosses lectures about 'productivity' or 'fraternizing in the workplace' ever again.

~~~~~~

Jon arrived to the restaurant precisely at the agreed upon time, and was surprised to be waved over by Martin, who was seemingly by himself.

"Hello Martin," Jon said before looking around, brows slightly furrowed, "do you have any idea when the others are going to be here?"

"Hm. I'm not sure actually, let me just–" Martin pulled out his phone, intending to check the time, and letting out a soft hum at something, screwing up his face slightly in thought.

Seeing the change in his coworker's expression, Jon sent him a confused look. And then Martin, inexplicably, started giggling.

"What? What are you laughing at?"

What could he have possibly seen to warrant this reaction? Jon seriously had no clue. This seemed to make Martin laugh even harder, moving one hand to cover his mouth. Now Jon was completely baffled.

Putting a hand on Martins arm, Jon shook him slightly. "You know something I don't, what's happening? What am I missing? What are you laughing at?"

Seeing Jon's confusion, Martin managed to compose himself and show Jon his phone screen.

The Magnus Archives GC

Tim: sorry guys, cant come, family emergency :( I'll make it up to u, promise xx

Sasha: well that blows because i just realised im double booked :/ and unfortunately, therapy takes priority right now.

So sorry, we'll pay for you two's food & drink to apologize

"What? This is just an unfortunate coincidence, whats so funny about this?" Jon was starting to get a little bit desperate now, as much as he hated to admit it, he really hated being left out of the loop.

"What— Jon, you cannot be serious." Martin spluttered, letting out a small laugh. "You have to realise whats happening!" Jon shook his head slightly. He honestly had no idea what Martin was talking about.

Martin blinked, eyes widening slightly before squinting, as if trying to see through him. They then widened again, as he seemingly came to his conclusion.

"You really have no clue." He paused, deliberating his next move. "Before we talk about this, we should probably move to a different table."

~~~~~~

After explaining their situation to the staff, Jon & Martin were sat at a table for two.

"Are you going to tell me what's so funny now?" Jon huffed, impatient.

"They're clearly trying to set us up on a date, Jon" Martin laughed, still not quite beleiving Jon's obliviousness.

Jon blinked.

"Well thats stupid." Jon stated, grabbing Martin's hand across the table.

Neither talked for a minute, too caught uo in their own thoughts.

"should we tell them?" Jon was the first to speak, breaking the silence.

"And miss out on free dates?"

Jon hesitated, unsure.

"And wouldnt it be funny to see how long they can keep it up?" Martin added, excited to reverse the roles on the office mischief.

Unable to deny his boyfriend something that made him happy, Jon sighed.

"Alright, fine, we wont tell them. But if they find out, I won't be covering for you." He stated, a fond smile creeping onto his face despite his best attempts at stopping it.

And so they had a lovely date, talked about their lives, ate good food, and stared lovingly into one another's eyes. At the end of the night, they went their seperate ways happily, and not a penny lighter.

~~~~~~

"Sooo, how'd it go?" Tim could barely contain his excitement as he burst into Martin's... living situation the next morning.

"The work dinner? Fine I guess, we talked about work mostly. A bit about our personal lives, which is an improvement." Martin smiled slightly at that, and he could tell it was genuine.

"Anything else?" Tim hinted "Anything a little more, y'know..." he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh get off it, it was a work dinner, nothing happened"

At this, Tim sighed dramatically, slumping against the wall. "Martin, Martin, Martin, sweet, innocent, Martin... you need to ask him out. Jon will never make the first move."

He sent Martin a flat look.

"Wha– no– NO! No i dont, he's not even interested in me– Not that it matters to me! Its just–"

Martin's spluttering was cut off by Tim snorting.

"Okay, Martin, whatever you say, I'll get back to work and leave you to figure some things out."

~~~~~~

The minute he was out of sight from Jon or Martin, Tim speed walked up to Sasha's desk.

"Sash! We're making progress!"

"Oh really? How can you tell?" Sasha asked, amused by her coworker's antics as usual.

"Well I haven't seen Jon yet but Martin seems closer to figuring out his feelings! Which I'd say is a pretty good sign!" Tim rambled, very happy with himself for this genius plan.

Right as he finished, as if on cue, Jon walked by, and if he was surprised by how early they were, he didnt show it.

"Good morning Sasha. Tim" he gave them each polite nods, but Tim could swear that there was a little extra pep in his step, and maybe even a very slight smile on his face.

Wide eyed, he turned to Sasha, who had the same expression as she looked back. "Well I'll be damned. Maybe your plan is working after all!"

reblogs > likes

[wisemins]

💭, 🎤 , 🎵 and 💃 for your AoT F/Os? :0 (no need to answer for all of them if you don't feel like it tho!!)

TYSM FOR THE ASK ANONNN <333 many kithies for you <3 I'll answer for all of them!! IM SO EXCITED ik i could have split this up, but I want to be annoying w my love rn <3 Thoughts 💭 - What do you think your f/o thinks about you when you’re not around? Armin: Armin I think would just be wondering if I was okay, he worries a lot and his mind tends to get the better of him! But, I also think he'd be doing something productive and is thinking of what he's gonna talk to me about later, maybe something I mentioned to him that he wanted to read up on for me to soothe his nerves. Also probably just being lost in thought about us, definitely some romantical stuff going on in his brain too!! Jean: He's being a simp. Jean can't stand being away from me for too long, he gets nervous like a dog with separation anxiety-- or well, a horse with separation anxiety? He gets very easily irritable in this time, because he also worries, but to everyone else he pretends he's totallyyy not worrying about whether or not I'm somehow in some kind of situation that's not ideal or dangerous. Or he gets insecure if I'm with someone else giving them all the attention I give him, he's a very jealous person. But, if he knows for a fact that I'm safe and sound, he's still being a simp, and he's thinking about me in very simpy way. Erwin: 100% thinking about me coming into his office to convince him to stop working however late he's up in the middle of the night and to come to bed. He plays it over and over in his head until it actually happens, or he's done with his work. He has so much responsibility, but he likes that I bring him away from it when he's overworked since he can't bring himself to do it. It prevents less exhaustion, and I get to actually have my man in my bed at night! Any other time though? He's thinking of what he's going to do for me when I get home, make dinner, maybe buy a spontaneous gift, perhaps write out some romantic letter. He's always looking for ways to surprise me when I'm not around! Yelena: Also being a simp. A huge, flaming, homo. She can't stop thinking about me at any given moment, she just can't! At work? She's thinking about me. Out with her co-workers? She wishes she was at home with me. She has to take a business trip without me? Oh she's gonna die without me around. I won't hear the end of it. She's thinking wholesome things, spicy things, anything to do with me. If she's out shopping and sees something I'd like? No question about it TAKE HER MONEY she's buying it for me. Yelena can't go longer than 24 hours without seeing my face or she goes into withdrawals, she turns feral!

Microphone 🎤 - Does your f/o sing or play music? If so, how are they at their craft, and what’s your favorite thing about it? Armin: Does not sing or play music! He loves listening to it though! Jean: Jean play Bass guitar and electric guitar, he's pretty good at it! He's a pretty decent singer too, but he likes playing more than singing. My favorite thing about it is the confidence he gets, it's so ridiculously attractive and I'm such a loser when he gets like that. Erwin: In my mind, Erwin was 100% a theater kid. His projection voice? Ain't no way he wasn't! I think he can sing very very well, but he just never gets the chance to anymore! But, now that he knows I have the hots for any good vocals, oh, he's singing a lot more. Even if it's just simple stuff while he's in the kitchen, or he's singing along to musicals we watch. He's got a great voice!! No instruments though, I don't think. My favorite thing about this would be him doing those little musical bits while he's cooking dinner or organizing his desk! Yelena: Nope and nope. Maybe she was in band when she was a kid and had to very awkwardly play the clarinet or something, but she's not very musically inclined. She likes to listen to it as well though!

Song 🎵 - What’s a song your f/o knows by heart, and a song you know by heart? Armin: Oh, easy. Line Without A Hook by Ricky Montgomery. He knows it's a generic/popular song but it doesn't stop us BOTH from belting it in the car very poorly because it just goes that hard!! Jean: Tonight by Peter McPoland, absolutely. He LOVES this song and will always sing it any given moment. One song I know by absolute heart no questions asked is Waiting Room by Phoebe Bridgers. You won't ever catch me singing it though!! Erwin: Theater kid incoming again!! Two choices here, maybe three. I Dreamed A Dream from Les Miserables, he loves the steady incline on that song! Also, All I Ask Of You from Phantom Of The Opera! For me, deadass ANYTHING from Sweeney Todd. Most likely Epiphany or A Little Priest! Yelena: I don't know if she does...It's probably some kind of curve ball like the national anthem or the burger king whopper song that annoys the shit out of me, I'm not too sure!! For this one I'll say the Fish McBites jingle, bcus my echolalia won't let that go.

Dance 💃 - Can you or your f/o dance? Armin: Yes! I think Armin is a great dancer! He really like doing it, but he's no professional or anything, he just thinks it's fun! He knows I cannot dance and will refuse to, but I love watching him dance! Jean: ...yes? Yes. He can dance but it's very sloppy, he has great potential though. Always tries to get me to dance but he can never convince me bcus it'd just be embarrassing with both of us OFIUHSAD Erwin: Theater kid. I think he can do some stuff! I will beat this head canon into the ground!! Will insist on ballroom dancing, which he will 100% have to lead and do most of the work for cus I can't dance for the life of me. Yelena: We both can't dance but she refuses to take that as an answer! I have a drawing I did of us doing just that, here! She's super tall and I'm only JUST tall. It's hard to work with but it's silly and fun and cute <3 TYSM FOR THE ASK!! Sorry for dumping so much, a.ot is my weakness and my Ultimate Autism™️

[one-abuse-survivor]

I'm the moving out anon hahah I'm 2 days into being in my uncles house and its crazy emotionally atm😅 i mean i feel so safe and he doesnt shout?? he asks nicely if he wants me to do something and like REALLY doesnt care if i make a mess? and doesnt care if i nap?? all things that would make my parents go ballistic hahha. yesterday I made some chicken and pasta for the first time ever and i dont really know how to work a cooker/stove thing nor am i too confident around boiling water lol (mum never let me do these things) i was throwing the pasta in the pan cos i didnt wanna pour it and get the water on me and he was in there and he just..didnt care that i was missing a lot lol like at all. he knew i was gonna clean it up hahha but i didnt do too great with the food i forgot a lot of things cos the time constraints of the food was making me kinda panic a little so i think ive gotta do some extra beginner stuff 😂😂 when he comes in my room he knocks and talks at a normal volume or quieter, and its just so relaxing. when we are going out shopping or smth, he sets a time then leaves me alone then comes in my room at the time and is calm af the whole time and we set off and hes just calm??? idk i feel like its a whole shock to my system atm hahaha im waiting for the other shoe to drop constantly even though i trust him enough to never be like that (like ever its not his thing to be explosive lol) will i get used to this in time? im sleepy a lot too like just exhausted hahah its crazy but these are 'normal' reactions, right?

Hi, nonnie! Sorry for the late reply. I'm so glad you were able to move in with someone who is so calm and who can provide you such a safe and normal space to live in!

This shock you're describing is really common when you've been abused, and when you have PTSD in general. It's like your body just cannot compute with the feeling of safety, and has to constantly anticipate the moment when the other person will finally snap, because that anticipation is the only thing that has kept you safe till now.

It does get better, though, and I hope it has for you since you sent this ask! Time, as well as more and more moments when the right people show you that they're not going to explode no matter what, will eventually, slowly teach your body that it doesn't need to be hypervigilant to be safe. Therapy can help, too, and just being aware of what you're going through and being patient with yourself can make a huge difference.

I've personally found that I have to repeat this process almost every time a new authority figure appears in my life. This can be really frustrating, and scary, because the feeling of fear and hypervigilance you thought you had overcome suddenly comes rushing back. But it does get easier over time, and there will come a day when you'll naturally expect people to be kind and respectful, and when the opposite—aggression and disrespect—will feel shocking and unexpected.

Hope you're doing well! Sending a big virtual hug ❤️

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

I’m glad you like them.

But

but I work remotely, and the part of this meeting that matters could have been an email, and they had some dumb wardrobe requirement that I had to go shopping for beforehand because just business casual isn’t good enough when we could all be wearing white shirts and denim jackets, and I drove 2 hours to be here and will drive 2 hours back home, and I’m not getting any actual work done so I have to work harder tomorrow to make up for it, and they brought food options I’m allergic to AGAIN. And all the stickers are pink and cutesy AGAIN. And the music they’re playing is basic white girl music AGAIN. And they’re making us pose for a fucking awkward family group photo AGAIN!

Sorry. Im gonna be a party pooper.

Enforced fun isn’t fun for me.

Also, would it kill my boss to find one goth sticker?

Would it kill my co-workers to make my winter holiday gift NOT Christmasy as I’ve stated multiple times that I’m not Christian and HATE CHRISTMAS? Get me black socks instead of red and green. Please, for the LOVE OF THE GODS.

Would it kill my boss to make a playlist of calm instrumental music that we can hear her over instead of Taylor Swift?

Would it kill them to set a room up so I can sit somewhere where my hearing disability isn’t going to make this harder and more exhausting?

I’d hate the “get to know me” bs games less if they actually retained any of it. If they actually listened to the “no citric acid” food requirement they asked for in an email a week prior. If they put ANY of their money where their mouth is.

So yeah. I’m gonna sit there and let Whitney flounder as I sip the lemonade hoping it cases me to throw up and become her problem too.

Please don’t berate the rest of us who don’t want to be there. You being excited and having fun tells me you’re just a person having a good time. You trying to force me to have a good time when this has been designed against me every time for the last 6 years is what makes you a brown nose.

I want it noted, that I love my job and I love the team I work with. But I love these things as a job. I love my team being my co-workers because we get shit done and we do it well. We’re friends enough without needing to see how many Disney songs we can name before the other team does.

I knooooow I look like a teacher's pet I knoooooooooow I look like a brown-noser and a suckup but I can't help it I genuinely enjoy team building exercises and get-to-know-you games, I love going to work parties and solving riddles and learning about my coworkers it is enrichment for me

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey honey! Could I get an extremely wild NSFW with Daemon x Martell/dornish reader. Where she is extremely bold and has fame to rival his and at first she doesn't like him, but he is willing to do it She changes her mind about him (and he does) as they spend time together she ends up realizing he's not that bad, thus forming a solid friendship, but the sexual tension and mutual desire between them is extremely strong (almost palpable) then one night while they are spending quality +

Killing Me Softly

Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Reader

Summary: Daemon, as unopposed as he was to be forced into a marriage so that he would no longer disrupt the matters of the crown, he found himself wanting nothing else but to marry the Lady Martell

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: physically abusive!daemon, fem!reader, reader injures daemon, they're both really toxic to each other, literally opens with smut [daemon takes liberties with intoxicated reader, manhandling, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, vaginal penetration, name calling, pulling out, breeding kink], fuck buddies to/& enemies (to lovers ?), i describe reader's hair, i name reader's sister, idk asoiaf lore so I just made stuff up, typos, etc.

A/N: another day another 5K+ smut MINORS DNI. it's hard being a simp [sigh] i put the second part of your ask below the gif cos i wanna see matty's stupid face when i get notes lol, but dont be deceived by it his cutesy face, this fic aint cutesy at all RIP. ok so i did research about the martell fam and i found out they're referred to as prince/princess because of a Targaryen ancestor that comes along long after daemon's existence and i almost made her a princess BONK let's just pretend i know what im doing. i took liberties on your prompt btw anon, i found the idea of writing another enemies to lovers exhausting which was why it took a while for me to get back to you. i think it came out a lot darker and there's a lot of mind fuckery involved. i hope you still like it. Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda

Daemon grunts and grabs my brownish blonde hair, coiling the curls around his hand has he maneuvers my head back and forth.

"Just like that," he urges and I grip his thighs for dear life.

Daemon leans against the wall as his hips involuntarily thrust into me. It was nothing I couldn't handle, not when I was used to it, and his particularly selfish desires. However, even after all his brutalizations, my jaw still cannot keep up with him nor can my lungs.

I let out a muffled sound when he hits the back of my throat. I feel myself gag around him and tears water my eyes as it get harder to breathe. I try to pull away but he is too greedy with my mouth, and has me locked in his grip by my hair.

I pound on his thigh, and his eyes that he screwed shut finally open.

He pants as he pulls me off him. A string of saliva drips down from my lips and I look up at him in annoyance. My insult comes out strangled and hoarse, "selfish prick."

Daemon smirks as he watches me get to my feet. I wipe the wetness of my lips off. He grabs me, and pushes my chest up against the wall. His hands claw and bunch up my skirt as he breathes against my ear, "you act as though I do not reward you for your service."

His hands make their way to my dripping heat, and we both hiss when he begins his ministrations on me.

"Is it a reward if you're only paying me my dues for what you so desperately begged to get?" I mutter through strained breathing.

I lean against him and reach for his neck behind me.

He pushes me off, dragging me to the side up until I was leaning against the open window. He grabs my hair again, my hands instinctively dart to it. I moan when he slowly enters me. I hear him pant as he begins to thrust. He pushes my skirt farther up as to get a better hold on my hip, "maybe you should ask your devotees what they think?"

"Daemon," I groan in gratification as he rams into me.

He hums. His chest rises and falls before he chuckles, "they're not gonna hear who's fucking you good when they're not if you don't pipe up."

I squeal when he releases my hair and places all his vigor into the flicking of his hips. I dig my fingers into the stone opening for dear life, just as he digs into my sides. The pain of his grip intensifies the pleasure rising in my core.

"Daemon," I grunt, "yes, yes, harder!"

Daemon is half-amused, half-breathless, "needy bitch."

He does not disappoint though. As much as he takes, he gives back, if only to prove a point of his manhood.

I let out a struggled and broken cry when he lifts my torso up closer to him and slams into my sweet spot. My knees can barely keep my standing as my feet lift and crash from the ground. My arms helping to push me up begin to shake when I feel my orgasm near.

"Fuck," I drag out breathily, "I'm so fucking close, Daemon."

He grunts and gracelessly shoves me back down. Had my arms not already been out, I would have slammed my head into the fucking rock. I whimper in pain, but have no time to tell him off as I am busy chasing my high.

"COME ON!" he growls.

Three thrusts in then I'm coming all over him. I let out the loudest and lewdest sound I could muster. It hikes up and down in volume because of his pounding.

In the middle of it all, he pulls out and leans against me. He is still heavily catching breath when I stir beneath him and turn over. Once I am sitting on the sill, Daemon pushes between my legs and rests against me. I tense at his affection and push him away, giving him a stern look, "did you fucking come on my dress again?"

Daemon's features harden upon hearing this.

"This would be the fourth dress you've ruined, you vile cretin."

"It's not like you make sport of reusing your garments anyway."

"Because you keep staining them!" I quip.

He lets out an annoyed breath as he moves off me, roughly fixing himself in his trousers.

I roll my eyes at him and flatten my bunched skirt. Once I was all sorted out, I call out to both sides of the hall, "if anyone's there, you can pass now."

Daemon eyes me darkly as he finishes tying his breeches.

Just then, one of the younger maids squeak and hurriedly makes her way down the hall with her head hung low.

I release a sigh as I get to my feet twisting back to see the damage he's done on my burnt sienna dress.

"It's not that bad."

I see the blot on the fabric and groan in annoyance. "Not that bad?!" I seethe, shoving him on his chest.

Daemon still manages to find it in him to chuckle.

"Now I have to have someone wipe that off."

"Or," he reaches out to me, "we can go have a hot ba-"

I swat him away.

Daemon's expression changes drastically, "bitch."

"Addict," I spit.

"Hussy," he grabs my jaw.

"Dick," I shove him off me with so much force he is actually surprised when he shoots back, nails grazing my face in the process. With that, I scream my servant's name as I storm down the hall.

Daemon watches as the sound of heels clicking fills his ears.

It was a relief that I found Audrey quickly, and that she managed to remove the traces of the prince on my dress as I removed traces of him on my skin.

Once I looked like the lady I was, face painted, shiny hair styled just the way I like it, and not utterly fucked and manhandled, I make my way down to the festivities in our dining hall.

My lips curve up when I feel the room shift its attention to me when I walk in. I bask in the attention, rolling my shoulders back as I caress the large diamond on my sternum, drawing even more attention to the plunging neckline of my dress.

The crowd parts for me as I make it across the room, heading for the seat at the head of the table that was prepared for me. I pay no one regard as they nod and greet me. Why would I?

Halfway through, I see him rip through the crowd toward me. Daemon gives me a boyish grin and extends his hand out to me. I release a breath at the look upon his face and take his hand.

"Beloved," he mutters, eyes fixed on me as he places a kiss on the back of my hand.

I forfeit a response to his performance, but cannot withhold my surprised chuckle when he spins me around and pulls my back flush against his chest.

"Your servant is truly a miracle worker," he mutters against my ear.

I scoff at his words, knowing he saw missing stain on my skirt.

The crowd intently watches our display and I let out a genuine laugh when I pull away from him, "and you a truly a menace, my prince."

The two of us then make our way to our seats at the table. The moment we do, music begins to play and people head off to the center of the room to dance.

Daemon sits to my left, leaning back with an indifference to it all. He is bored of it, and was only here because I told him to be. He reaches his hand to my skirt from under the table. I let him draw shapes on me with this fingers. I could not care less.

I watch the people make merry before me. I watch them step and twirl to the sound of the music. I smile although my chest constricts as I recall a time in my life when I was as carefree as the atmosphere.

I turn to Daemon, bored still. He was the personification of my cynicism, the marker of my truth: I existed only for duty.

We both turn to my right when my name is called out.

And here she was, our youngest, my pretty sister; a beacon of light that reminded me everything I was no longer. I smiled at her as she went my side. She leans down to kiss my cheek and I offer her the same sentiment as she greets us both.

"Sister," she smiles, "Prince Daemon."

"Lady Castella," Daemon offers a small smile. His fingers continue to absentmindedly draw on me.

"I want to introduce someone to you," she inhales deeply as she pulls a grin on her face.

Two men then walk over to the table, and I instantly find some recognition of the old man. The sight of him makes my face contort in contempt.

"Sister," Castella lets out a breath as she extends her hand out, "Lord Michael Yronwood and his son, Lord Perros."

"The Ladies Martell," the balding man wags his wrinkly jowls then turns to the man beside me, "Prince Daemon Targaryen."

I scoff at his greeting and straighten myself up.

My sister stiffens beside me as I watch the boy great all of us individually.

"At least you have proper manners," I say to Perros as he raises his head up after bowing.

Daemon holds back his laugh.

Before I could remark at the stink eye the elder Yronwood was giving me, my sister catches my attention with her words, "this is the man I have been telling you about."

I turn to her in disbelief, "the Yronwood boy?"

Castella licks her pink lips before nibbling on it nervously.

I idly turn back to the thing that won my sister's favor. I take in his thick, dark hair, wondering when he will begin to bald like his father. I take in the broadness of his shoulders, wondering when he shall need a shabby cane as well. I take in the eagerness and restlessness of his expression and measure it against the sardonic expression of the old man beside him.

"Is it true that you write my sister poems?"

Perros freezes. His father beside him eyes him hotly.

We all look onto the man caught off guard and my patience quickly runs dry over his silence. I allow him a few more seconds, but he does not pipe up to even stutter like the lost child he is.

"Clearly he is too stupid to even utter a word to me," I turn to my sister.

"I beg your pardon," the boy's father quips as he leans on his cane.

"No," I raise my brows at him, "I will not pardon you, Lord Yronwood." I turn to my sister, "what has-"

"It is clear you cannot breed the whore out of someone, even with Martell seed," the geezer scoffs, "I should have your tongue for your insolence."

I turn to him with furrowed brows. My sister's jaw hangs low. Daemon shoots out of his chair, causing it to fall back with a thud and make the entire room go silent.

That is what it takes for him to realize his mistake. The hot glare of the prince renders his ugly face uncomfortable. He grabs his son by the arm, "I knew this was a mistake."

I hear my sister whimper beside me as Perros struggles against his father. He manages to pull away without injuring his raggedy hand and snaps at him, "What you did was a mistake. I love her, father!"

"Her mother is a whore!"

The sound of my laughter draws everyone's attention to me. Their eyes are blown, shocked, disturbed, and it amuses me further, excites me that my breath leaves me even quickly.

When my sister places a hand on my shoulder, a knowing gesture to my knowing actions, I swat her away and calm myself.

Daemon watches me, watches how my face ticks.

"Yes, oh you caught us," I utter as my breath evens out, "my mother was born, raised, and worked in a brothel before her hypnotizing cunt ensnared my poor daddy, the Lord Martell."

I raise my voice when the gremlin thinks to interrupt me, "AND YOU THINK TO LEAVE..." I lean against the table, "leave out the best part!" I smile, "she was a bastard of the Lannisters."

I chuckle again, flipping my golden hair back, "not that there's any proof to that," I tilt my head offering a wicked smile, "and yet, here you are. Under the roof of the late whore's home, submitting to her whore spawn because your son fell for the whore's daughter,"

I stand to my feet, "the Lady Castella of house fucking Martell."

I hear the shuffling of the guards from the side, who had been on edge ever since the music. I hear one of them call to me. I knew it was Aleksander, and I knew he was ready to kill for me.

I smirk.

The crows stirs.

The Yronwoods begin to stiffen in panic.

"You are outranked, outnumbered, and fucking ugly," I break into a laugh. I gesture upwards, "I am only now recalling why I am so pissed by the sight of your monstrosity. Were you not the same Yronwood that tried to marry off the same pawn to me not long ago?"

I turn to his son, breaking yet again into another laugh.

Daemon shifts in his spot, smiling to himself as he watches me on his side.

"And this was after you made issue of the charity I give the peasants. A farce, you said, to give back to the less fortunate."

"Perros," my sister's calls. My eye twitches at it. It cuts off my anger briefly. I narrow my eyes at the said man. How good could his dick be?

Michael Yronwood although rendered speechless, arrogantly kept his head high. His son, Perros, could do nothing but hang his head low in shame as my sister looked out to him.

I heave and feel anger rise at the sound of my sister's hushed cries. How dare these fucking gremlins cause her this distress, at one of our house's feasts, an occasion she adores, no less.

My lips twitch, "you should be glad I care about the less fortunate, because you are so clearly desperate for all these things that you lack: prestige, wealth, and face that is not so hideous to look at-"

Daemon could not hold back his chuckle.

"and so I will not have you quartered and hung in the town square."

The Yronwoods turn to me in shock. My sister pleads my name out, and it further fuels my anger.

"Perros," I call loudly turning to the boy, "I present you now two choices: you either leave my sister alone and keep your lovelorn poetry to yourself, or," I turn his father, "you can marry her in return for your father's head."

"You DARE," he raises his cane, "threaten my son in front of me!"

I giggle, "it is not a threat," then lunge at him to grab his cane.

He is jarred by my actions and nearly topples back when he pulls away. It is a shame his son keeps him upright.

"My word," I examine his family crest on the cane, "is law," I throw his cane behind me.

"You deranged wench!"

"Call me what you like, filth," I grin, "I am the first born of house Martell, betrothed to house Targaryen. Do you think anyone would defy me?"

"The prince will never wed your defiled cunt!"

"Father, that's enough!" Perros begs.

"He has not married you still because-" the old fuck cuts himself off when Daemon climbs over the table, kicking all the food down, and grabs him in his fury.

"You should have kept your tongue while my bride allowed you to keep it. Now I demand it," Daemon seethes, gripping the large oaf by his collar, before extending a hand out to his side, "we are awaiting the return of her father and brothers before we wed, but you would not understand honor or familial duty even after I cut your tongue out."

"Daemon, please," my sister begs, leaning against the table.

"HAND ME A FUCKING BLADE!"

Castella turns to me, gripping my arm tightly.

I cannot bring myself to turn to her as I command, "release him."

"No," Daemon seethes.

"RELEASE HIM!"

Daemon grinds his teeth as he grips the man's collar with both hands again. After, he shoves him off with much force. Again, much to his luck, his son keeps him upright. Had that not been the case, he would have surely fallen and cracked his skull.

I eye Castella and nearly falter at the sight of her tears. I clench my jae, "I have given my word."

She calls my name out, "please, do not-"

With that, I storm out of the place.

Daemon was too caught up in his own anger to realize this. He gives the order to haul the Yronwoods' arses out of the place, and by the time he notices my absence, it was too late.

Much like our routine, Daemon spends the rest of the day that fades into the night, looking for me. He searches In our estate, the establishments nearby, the places I frequent, and the places he has never seen me enter before. He finds me in the very place that I owed my existence to, the brothel my mother worked at.

Daemon could not even let relief wash up on him as he watches me grind up down on the guard I was relieving my angers on.

He rubs my sides as I push my tongue into his mouth.

I scream when I am pulled off him from my hair.

I am thrown off to the side. There is a sound of brawling. I look up and see my snogging partner grip his side in pain as he is hauled out of the place.

I get to my feet in time to witness Daemon shove the guy out the door. I heave as I grab a cup of ale. As he comes up to me, I finish downing whatever remained of it

I gulp the last of it when Daemon grabs the cup and throws it to the side, hissing at the smell of alcohol on me, "are you out of your fucking mind?"

I get on my toes and lean up at him, "yes."

He recoils at my breath and grabs my wrists when I reach out to him. The next thing I know, I am thrown over his shoulder and being hauled out myself.

It's a miracle I do not slip off him, or that the alcohol I consumed did not slip out of me.

Somehow, I am in my chambers.

Like clockwork, I head to the stored wine in my room and gracelessly intake it. Daemon catches it out of my grip and leaves me and my dress in a mess when it splashes all over the place.

I catch my breath as the red cascades all over me.

"What is wrong with you?" Daemon asks, as he pulls the now empty container from me. I grab the other one and run away to drink as much as I could. I barely get to drink any as the prince grabs it. He pulls away from me to empty its contents out the window.

I fight against him when he does so, and out of annoyance, he grabs me by the throat, making my hands dart to his grip.

He releases me when all the wine is wasted. He moves away to put the object back where I got it.

I groan and heave as I watch him walk away.

By the time I catch my breath, I storm towards him. "Stop using your fucking strength against me!" I screech. I lunge at him just as he turns. I manage to the glass he just placed back on the table.

I manage to hit him once on the nose but he he catches both my arms before I could injure him further.

Part of me is shocked when he begins to bleed, but another part is enticed by the way he licks the red off his lips.

Of course, he overpowers me. He brings my hands down in front of him and eyes me darkly. I whine out in pain at how roughly he was gripping me. I eventually release the container and it drops to the floor with a crashing sound.

He pushes me back, and I could do nothing against it.

I crash down on my bed, breathing taxed, I look up at him as he seals my hands beside my head. I am unable to move beneath his bodyweight.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he hisses as his blonde hair falls down to my face.

I find myself laughing at his vexation, "you're awfully clueless for someone that was there."

His nostrils flare. Discomfort shots on his face because of his injury, "were you seriously affected by that vermin's words?"

I laugh harder. Daemon makes a face at the hot, alcohol laced breath that hits him. "Of course not."

"Then why?"

"See, the difference between you and I is that I actually know I'm a lunatic," I crane my neck up at him, "while you are wound up in your own self-righteousness."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

I drop my head and close my eyes. Castella's face burns in my mind, "I just ruined my sister's life."

"No," he quips, loosening his grip when he feels me relax beneath him, "you saved her from marrying into a family of idiots."

Daemon measures my reaction before he pulls away from me. Tears continue to leave my shut eyes when I feel my shoes get pulled off me. I am too sad to care about how I am suddenly being hoisted up. Daemon has me lean against him when he peels me out of my dress.

He makes me sit up on my own. I open my eyes when he caresses my face.

He wipes my tears with his thumb while examining me for a moment. He then undoes the braids and accessories fashioned in my hair.

I fall back on the cushion when he is done. At this point he pulls my skirt down my legs.

My sobs are slightly ceased when I feel a damp towel get thrown at me.

"Wipe yourself down."

I don't. Why would I? I don't care. Where did he even get this?

Daemon returns to me, grumbling in High Valyrian as he takes the towel and wipes the red stains on my skin away.

I only realize he was changed out into his own sleeping attire when he puts me into my nightgown.

I look at him dumbly for a moment. It was as though I had forgotten everything that happened up until this moment. It was not farfetched after all. The candles in the room made his cut and inflamed nose look worse than what it was. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

I bring my hand to his face. He lets me.

He watches me silently.

More tears fall from my eyes, but I cannot bring myself to apologize. I don't even know if I feel sorry.

Daemon does not need it. He shifts on the bed and pulls me onto him when he leans back by the pillows on the headboard. I look at him and shift from my spot, moving to straddle his lap. He places his hands on my thighs as he watches me wipe my tears away.

I take a moment to calm myself. I take a moment to gather my thoughts. I feel Daemon relax beneath me. I feel him rub my thighs in comfort. It's enough for me to roll my hips on his.

He holds back as moan as he leans his head back.

The next moment, he hisses and holds me in place, "you will not remember it was I that fucked you in your state."

"Then tell me in the morning."

He says my name as though it was a warning.

"If you did not want me, then I would not be on your lap."

"And that's the problem, isn't it," he chides, throwing me down on the bed, spinning us around so that I was again under his mercy, "I want you. I want you every second of every day, and yet you do not want me back."

I am unremorseful of his words. I am stoic beneath him as I press my feet on the cushions, "and why would I want you?"

"Because you should be mine!" he mutters sharply, "-are mine. You are promised to marry me!"

I begin to feel exhaustion wrap around me. I close my eyes.

He grabs my head and pulls me close, "yet you insult me by readying yourself to the first man you say your eyes upon."

I am uninterested when I retort, "you only want me because I do not want you, Daemon," I wrap my arms around him and peel my eyes open, "but I do not want you to want me like that."

I wrap my legs around him and suck in a deep breath, "I want you to want me like Ezekiel, who begged at the gates for a mere glance of my face."

Daemon's jaw clenches.

"Like Allyrion, who you still have in locked in our prison but comes alive when I grace him with my presence," I whisper, "the Dalt brothers, Timothy and Bolton, who now despise each other because of how they both wanted to marry me. Rowan, who feels no regret, though you broke his arm after catching us fuck in this very room."

He heaves and attempts to pull away from me.

He drops my head and I grab his, pulling him close, "you want my fire, dragon, but you must scrape the skin on your knees begging for it like everyone else before you."

Daemon does not take kindly to this.

He never does.

He thinks he's so smart and scary but he doesn't realize that he plays into my desires as easily as his temper is triggered.

He leans back into me and shuffles with his clothing. "I'll make you show me how to beg," he seethes.

He was never one to shy from a fight, and in this moment, he was fighting both me and himself with every bit of him. The next second, he is ramming all his anger and frustrations into me.

I admit, it's truly a humbling experience to be at his mercy, helpless, unable to do anything that he will not allow. And yet as he breaks me, he helps me continuously break him the way I have been the moment I met him. I squeal out his name as my mind races with the thought.

He presses my hands beneath his. He is so rough and forceful I begin to slip upward because of his actions. He does not care, and only busies himself by losing his sanity over my wetness, my screams. But then it annoys him and he has no other choice but to pin me down by hips.

"Tell me who's fucking you like this?"

"Daemon," I obediently retort.

He hums as he maneuvers my legs, "and do you want me to stop?"

I whine gutturally, "no! Don't stop!"

His annoying and spiteful self does just that though, and leaves me in a panting mess as I look up at him.

"Beg for it."

I plan my timing carefully. I watch how he watches me, thinking he's in control. I reach out to his hands and lick my lips as I roll against him.

"BEG, I SAID."

"Daemon pleeeasssee," I whine as I roll my head back and arch my back.

"Louder."

"Daemon, please!"

"Louder!"

"DAEMON JUST FUCKING FUCK ME-" I rip out with a high pitched moan when he begins to thrust into me again. He leans down and begins to sink his face into neck as he continues his brutalization.

I let out unabashed cries of pleasure as he sucks on my skin. I dig my hands into the roots of his hair and call out his name like a sacred prayer.

"I will burn my seed into you," he threatens, "you will not escape me. I will fuck you over and over and over again until you're swollen and spent."

Daemon excites himself with the idea and picks up the pace, "your pretty cunt will bear me a strong Targaryen."

I picture the idea of carrying his blonde babe.

He tightens his hold on me.

"I will put a dragon in you," he mutters, pulling away to rest his forehead on mine, "and have us married at daybreak by the traditions of my house."

I whine at the building tension in my stomach.

Daemon lets his mind wander. Lets himself imagine his future, his children, his bride.

He closes his eyes and loses himself as he buries all his thoughts deep beneath him. He relishes the warmth, the softness, the readiness beneath his unforgiving force.

I catch my breath as I dig my teeth into his skin, absolutely ready to come undone before him. "Daemon," I whisper arduously.

That's all it takes for him to realize what he's doing.

Before either of us could even reach our highs, his pace begins to grow sloppy. I whimper at the loss and do not wait for him to quicken his pace again.

With a grunt, I roll him off me and find myself on top him.

I look down on him as I ride him. I lock his neck in my grip. He chokes at my harshness and I lick my teeth at the sight of him. I allow him the courtesy of a breath as I fuck myself on him. I knew he would not have it in him to stop me.

And just as I thought, he holds onto my hips and screws his eyes shut, basking in the feel of me.

I groan as I watch him, "come inside me, my dragon. Claim me like you have been dreaming."

Daemon digs his nails into my flesh. His final act of deviance. It is for naught. He is powerless against me.

And in the rare occasion, we both come at the same time. The feeling is overwhelming, mind melting, toe curling. It is the best fuck we've had in a while.

I do not relent against him. I milk both our reactions for all that I've got, and once I'm reeling, I allow myself to stay on top of him for a moment to catch my breath.

He opens his eyes when I pull away from him.

He thinks about what he said, his desires for his seed.

I think about how badly I want to wash myself down.

Daemon watches me as I head off to the bathroom. He's already cleaned up by the time I return.

He does not wake before dawn. He had been relishing the warmth in his arms. This was why when he opened his eyes and saw nothing but a ghost of who he laid with, he was awakened with bitterness and betrayal.

He is unkept when I see him in the courtyard. He did not fix his hair, did not wash his face, did not change out of his nightly attire. He stares at me as I am served breakfast.

"My prince," I smile, "might you join me for some food?"

Daemon looks at me for a moment, watches as I scold the maid for giving me the chipped tea cup that I absolutely despised.

I turn to him when he walks over to me.

One of the servants pull the chair out for him and I offer another smile. Daemon does not sit down when I tell the servants to prepare his preferred dish.

"Last night..."

I look at Daemon and knit my brows.

"What happened to your nose?" I question as grab his hand and make him sit down next to me. He does not resist. He does not pull away when I push his wild hair back. I move the chair closer to his. There is skidding sound because of it.

When he does not reply, I know my mind games are working. I braid his hair behind him when I repeat, "last night."

Daemon does not move. "I promised I would marry you at daybreak," he whispers.

"Did you?" I feign ignorance, "it's a little too late for that now though," I chuckle.

He grabs my hand, just as I managed to reach the ends of his long hair. I look at him.

My face does not betray me, but his does.

"Do you remember?" he mutters.

I purse my lips, "there is an ache in between my legs. I wished it was you because the moron came inside me."

He releases me and stands. He debates the sincerity of my words. He recounts all the other times I got drunk out of my mind, how he saw the blankness of my eyes when he recounted the activities we did when I was intoxicated.

He measures my current expression against that. He does not know if he wishes it were true or not.

I release a sigh, "do not hold my poor drunken memory against me now, all because you said you would marry me at daybreak."

Daemon clenches his fist, "forget the thought."

I quirk my brows at him.

"I will marry you in the traditions of my house in front of your father, in front of everyone."

I look at him. I look at his violet eyes and blink slowly, "alright."

That's all you could say?

The servant comes back holding the dish he enjoyed. I watch as the food is placed before him, "will you join me now, or would you like me to wait for you to get yourself sorted?"

Daemon feels his pulse quicken. His nostrils flair, "wait for me."

He does not see me nod as he immediately walks off.

When he returns, his entire body tingles at the sound of laughter.

Behold, your brothers have returned.

"Daemon!" I call, waving at him the moment I spot him. I have both my arms flung over the shoulders of my two younger brothers that came after me. The third one that was sitting on the chair I was sat on just a moment.

"Prince Daemon," one of them says.

"Or perhaps we should call him brother."

I roll my eyes, "he is not your brother."

"Well, he will be soon enough."

I shake my head as I watch Daemon come close, "come now. Your food is getting cold."

Daemon is acutely aware of the unintentional alienation he is put into. The brothers coddle their eldest and recount every detail of their trip without a pause, sparing nothing out of it.

He looks at his food and watches a fly that land on it.

Daemon would join this family, much sooner than he expected, and yet, he was no different to the fly on his food.

I catch his distraught expression and find myself smiling.

[apollostears]

FIRST FUCK [ s. geto ]

↬︎ anime: jujutsu kaisen

↬︎ pairing: geto x reader

↬︎ warning(s): swearing, fuckboy!geto, college au!, sex, p in v penetration, oral sex ( fem. receiving ), drinking, unprotected sex ( stay safe kids ), degradation, dom!geto, possessive!geto

↬︎ wc: 2.1k

PLOT. geto's falling for his fwb partner, but does she feel the same?

ADVISORY. reader is female and black, unless stated otherwise.

geto's fingers lightly ran across her skin, the two of them basking in the afterglow of sex for the fifth time that week. it was midterms and her stress levels were high and a trip to geto's bed always brought her back down to earth.

"im gonna have to start charging you by the hour for these little. . .sessions of ours princess," geto's voice lays heavy in the hot air.

she smiled softly and turned around to face him. "can't handle my needs anymore suguru?" she teased, eyes lingering on the recent neck tattoo.

the college senior scoffed before grabbing her by the chin to focus her on him. "i'll show you just how well i can handle your needs."

a shrill laugh escaped her lips by geto's sudden movements and the tickle of his hair in between her thighs. but her teasing subsided as she was reduced to mush by geto's viscous tongue eating out her sensitive cunt like his life depended on it.

and in that moment, it did. geto's life depended on pleasing her because unfortunately, he caught feelings for her and he did not want to let that go.

she saw him two weeks ago. midterms had finished and it had seemed that his usefulness has ran out. of course that was not the case on her end, she just got busy. but that wasn't communicated and every time geto's advances failed, he felt more and more like she was slipping away from him.

y/n had to pull away from the handsome man she'd been sleeping with the past six months. the man was a monster when it came to sex. as corny as it was, he was the insatiable geto around campus and for a solid six months, she was his infatuation. his new addiction that he could not get enough of and it was exhausting. her brief rise in libido around midterms was the only time she was able to surpass him in need. it was always him hitting her up for a quickie in his tattoo shop or to fuck her out the whole weekend.

to her, though, his longterm desire to be with her was something she thought was normal. thought it was just apart of his reputation, but she was wrong. geto stayed around this long and it wasn't just for sex.

"ooo girl! fushiguro is hostin a halloween party with itadori!" jade exclaimed as the two met up in the library to finish up on assignments.

y/n perked up at that, lifting her head up from the elective assignment she was doing. "you lying?"

jade shook her head. "on my dead momma, i'm not."

the college woman got excited, mind racing with costume ideas. 'til she remembered that toji's parties were invite only and if sukuna was co-hosting, then the guest list was for sure going to be tight.

"how are we gonna get in? that shit wrapped up like fort knox."

jade sent y/n a devious smirk, fake innocence in her eyes as she prepared her bargain. "you do know you're fucking one of their posse members, right?"

“you want me to use my fuck buddy to get us in?” she asked in shock. she had been dodging geto like the plague. there’s no way he could want anything to do with her now.

“well, when you say it like that. . .”

“t-too much! geto—ahh!” y/n’s moans filled the room in geto’s apartment.

he had her on her hands and knees, fucking her like he hated her. she had came three times already and her neck ached from being squeezed, but she loved this. she loved geto using her like a fuck toy.

“it’s too much princess?” his tone was anything but sympathetic, “i don’t fucking care.”

another mewl escaped her sore lips as she slumped forward, face down into the sheets. geto’s eyes were trained on y/n’s cunt as he watched her suck him in. he scoffed at her whining. this pussy was his and he was going to make sure she knew it. feeling her pussy contract harshly on his cock had him bringing his tattooed fingers to her swollen clit to push her over the edge.

y/n let out a choked scream, body locking up in shakes as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. she almost forgot to breathe for a second. but he just kept going. flipping her on her side with him behind her, geto slotted a leg in between her thighs and continued using her like a cocksleeve.

his hand was under her chin, forcing her to look at him in her dazed state. geto’s cock throbbed at the sight. he fucked her stupid.

“whose pussy this belong to?”

a lack of response led to a sharp slap on her clit, a moan slipping out of her. “i asked you a question beautiful.”

“y-yours! yours geto, please!” y/n tumbled out her mouth, eyes crossed as she was overridden with pleasure.

her mind was mush, ears ringing as her slick covered the soft sheets. the sheets that geto had been fucking her on for over an hour. she needed geto to cum before she fell apart on him.

“please! please—i’m sorry ‘ru!” y/n used his nickname to show her sincerity. this’ll teach her not to ignore him.

geto groaned as more slick gushed out of her and onto him and the bed. he had been edging himself after her second orgasm, ready to fill her up with his cum. but he wanted to punish her first. remind her who really ran this. . .this situationship.

he knew he shouldn’t be fucking her like this. shouldn’t be mad that this is the first time he’s seen her in almost three weeks, but when she came to ask about some stupid party his friend was hosting—that fucking did it.

“don’t ignore me again baby.” he whispered, flicking her clit one more time to have her trembling in his arms as she squirted all over the sheets.

the sight alone was enough to have geto dumping his seed in her with a small growl. it was inhumane and unlike him, but he was too pent up to care. after a few more thrusts into her, to which she softly moaned, geto carefully pulled out and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“ ‘m sorry suguru. i promise.” she spoke sluggishly, tired and brain dead at that point.

geto cooed and patted her cheek. “i know princess.”

it wouldn’t be until later, that she’d realize his possessive behavior. that he fucked her like that out of love.

the party was at an abandoned industrial warehouse. jade and y/n showed up well into the party being started, choosing to be late as opposed to early. flashing their wristbands at the makeshift bouncer, although his intimidating stature was anything but fake, the two friends made their way into the halloween party.

y/n had heard stories about toji and sukuna’s parties. two senior’s that notoriously threw insane parties, but were only reserved for the best of the best. truthfully, part of y/n felt like she had stepped into the induction society for the illuminate. yes, it was halloween, but sukuna itadori was a sadistic fuck around campus. word around was he was some underground street fighter with toji, but anyone who knew anything would rather die than speak on what they knew.

it was an odd group of friends, geto’s group. a group of six, eligible men; all ranging on different ends of the sanity spectrum. she supposed geto was in the middle; crazy but not too crazy. speaking of, she still had yet to confront him about his possessive behavior the other week. it had her questioning their relationship. everything that they claimed they were, and would be.

“damn, ain’t no way we winning that costume contest. look at that motherfucker over there!” jade pouted, pointing out someone’s impressive outfit from across the room.

how she managed to see well enough, was beyond her. jade had wanted to go as sith lords from star wars. she wore a catsuit and a cape with her dual ended lightsaber and red mask. y/n wore a body suit with a cape and two lightsabers with a silver mask. if they had a category for sexiest costumes, the two juniors would probably win.

maneuvering through the crowd, jade searched for drinks while y/n looked for geto. she had no idea what he was going as and she never bothered to ask. “you better not be lookin for that man.”

jade’s words brought y/n back to her friend, her head on her shoulders and not in the clouds. “and if i was?”

“please don’t tell me i just lost my best friend to some dick!”

y/n laughed at her dramatic antics, fixing the both of them a drink to sip on. “what part of ‘friends with benefits’ do you not understand?”

“ma’am, respectfully, you’re dumb as hell,” jade pointed out, taking the drink from y/n’s hand.

the girl looked at jade in shock, a small smile on her face at the insult. “how did you get to that conclusion?”

“boo, i’ve seen the way he looks at you when he comes around. geto was such a whore, that almost everyone had ran through him. then, he sleeps with you and he’s keeping you around for six plus months. AND he got you, and i, into this cult-looking party that not just anybody gets into. like, i don’t how else to paint it for you. he’s in love with you, y/n.”

jade’s words stung like when rain kisses fire for the first time. it was a wake up call, an abrupt one at that. then came the question; was she in love with him too? see, she knew geto’s reputation before they started sleeping together so she prepared herself. y/n conditioned herself to ignore his advances. to think of herself as just another lay to him because that’s what made it easier to sleep with him.

truthfully, she avoided him after midterms because everything felt too real. too raw. her wall of protection was breaking with every gentle action of his and when he said those things to her last time. . .

“nah, i don’t believe it. trust, men like him don’t settle down overnight.”

her friend scoffed in disbelief and chugged the rest of her drink. “yeah? ask him yourself and find out, he’s on his way over.”

quickly, jade left y/n in the makeshift kitchen and went to go somewhere else. swallowing her drink quickly, y/n had just set the cup down when she felt hands on her waist. she inhaled a whiff of geto’s signature cologne and relaxing in his hold.

“how’d you find me?” she would ask after a beat of silence.

“watched your snap story, saw your outfit.” he murmured into her neck, nipping at it gently.

oh.

before anything could escalate further, y/n pulled forward from geto’s warm hold and turned to face him. she lifted her mask up over her head to look him in his eyes. he looked confused, but did his best to hide it.

“can we talk?”

she wouldn’t know it, but those three words caused so much dread to fill geto’s tattooed body. nodding stiffly, geto lead y/n away from the party and to the top floor of the building. it was empty up there and away from shifting eyes and open ears.

geto spoke first, his eyes watching y/n put some distance between the two of them. “what’s on your pretty little mind princess?”

y/n took a shaky breath, nerves suddenly attacking her out of nowhere. “why did you fuck me like that the other week?”

geto’s heart dropped in his stomach. did he hurt her? “was i too rough? princess, i’m so sorry—”

she shook her head, a small laugh of disbelief pushing past her lips. “no. god no, you didn’t hurt me geto.” there was a pause. “i just—you fucked me like i mattered. why?”

and for a minute, geto hadn’t spoken. “you know, after six months i thought you would’ve caught on by now.”

“what? caught on to what?”

her heart was pounding in her ears, so hard she’d thought it would fall out of her chest. why was she so anxious? oh. . .

it was because she loved him too.

geto huffed, annoyed at how dense the woman who had his heart, could be. “jesus y/n, i’m in love with you! ok? i realized it too late, but yeah.”

y/n blinked. then she blinked again. and one more time after that before letting out a laugh.

“i told you you’d fall for me after we fucked the first time! don’t worry ‘ru. i fell for you too.” she cheekily replied, her heart no longer hammering out of her chest.

geto scoffed with a smile before pulling y/n into him. her arms were around his waist from the side as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“i forgot how stupid you were,” he murmured.

“remember that next time you want some head.”

“oh come on!”

↬︎ join the taglist: @rubinocore @nyxeclipse @sweeneyblue1@knjkitten@namjoonswifeyy @sunrayyellowhalo @pimpnameyannie @brownmochi

[tigerdrop]

so. this is my attempt at posting a 20k-word-long g/t frenrey RP that kogo and i were doing at the start of this year. its not finished and im not sure when were gonna pick it back up, since we are currently working on co-op game theory instead of a filthy RP that takes place like 100k words down the line of co-op game theory. but ive been sitting on it long enough so here u go

i never really planned on posting this anywhere so its really self-indulgent and not as polished as our usual stuff but look. this is a ludicrous amount of erotica im dropping here. cut me a lil slack

anyway, here it is: Gordon Gets A Xen Bath

Gordon tries to keep moving, but eventually his pace slows to a stop, his legs growing heavier and heavier until he can't bring himself to lift them.

"Okay. Okay," he pants, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees. "I can't fucking do this anymore, man! I'm tapped out! We've been walking all day - or, well, I have, I don't know about you. We can't... can't all be alien god fuckers, floating around or whatever." He pauses to catch his breath. Every muscle in his body aches from the strain of hopping around Xen in the HEV suit. Sure, gravity doesn't have quite as strong a hold here as it did back on Earth, and that makes all that metal easier to lug around, but it seems like time doesn't work the same way, either. Gordon can't tell how long it's been. Feels like days.

Smells like it, too, now that he's got a moment to breathe. He's covered in dirt and slime and congealed alien blood and God know what else.  In short, he needs a fucking break. And Gordon aggressively takes one right then and there, dropping to his feet. What's the rush, anyway? "Like we're ever gonna find out way out of this fucking place," he mutters.

> Benrey watches as Gordon collapses, a pile of metal and smells. Odors. Sweat and dirt and tangled hair. His head tilts to the side but his expression remains flat as he lifts his head and gazes out into the vastness of Xen, before turning back to Gordon and furrowing his brow. They hadn't even gotten far, not really, so it doesn't really make sense that he'd just crumple like this.

> He sniffs, shuffling in a circle on his feet as Gordon bitches behind him--something about never escaping Xen, as if Benrey hadn't traveled from one end to the other to find him in the first place--and chews his lip in deep concentration, trying to think of literally anything that would maybe make the guy stop. Stop with the, uh, whining and whinging and "blah blah, we're not all alien god fuckers" or whatever.

> (Though, well, technically, Gordon was an alien god fucker anymore. Their time back with the space maggots and the gun bugs and that skinny doppelganger had seen them in a couple of situations where Gordon happily fucked an "alien god.")

> But. Wait. No. Mind wandering. Wandering to fun places, places more fun than being lost in Xen (though he's not lost; they'll find their way out eventually), but not anywhere useful. And, for once, he has to think along those boring terms. Being, you know, reliable or whatever.

> What matters is making Gordon go. The hamster wheel in his head turns and turns until the rodent is slung clear off and, with a slow blink, Benrey accepts defeat. Ideas are not his forte when he's actually trying to be helpful. He turns to his human, he tilts his head in the other direction, and he waits for his human to look up at him. Then, he speaks without even waiting for eye contact.

> "So, uh... what can best friend Benrey do to... make you. I dunno. Less dumb?"

> Nailed it. Benrey is getting good at this "empathy" thing.

Gordon drags his gaze up from the ground to Benrey, and immediately scrunches his eyebrows up. "Wow, that was almost nice of you," he says, a touch of genuine surprise in his voice. It doesn't outweigh the disdain, though. "You know what? Just don't do anything. The best thing you can do right now is to stand right there and do absolutely nothing... and let me just... catch my breath."

He hopes against hope that, for once, Benrey will do what he says. Despite all the evidence that suggests otherwise. His internal monologue turns a bit haggard. Well, it's not like there's anything he could do about it, anyway. Even if he was fit as a fiddle, if Benrey wanted to fuck off and get lost, there was no stopping him.

He can't hold Benrey's stare for long, though. It's-- it's always harder to look him right in the eye like this. Something about the size of him makes it uncomfortable, like he's staring right through Gordon. So he darts his eyes away, scanning his surroundings. The perils of an alien landscape: all the little islands and chunks of earth start to look the same after awhile. Rocks and strange, angry plants and pools of mysterious fluids. He's seen it all. There's a number of all these things and more around him, but the one thing he finds himself wishing for is something to eat. You can't trust anything out here.

"I just want a burger, man," Gordon groans. "Sick of jumping around like I'm playing some kind of platformer. You know, they never tell you how exhausting this shit is! My heart's-- my heart's racing-- like, adrenaline? Hate fucking jumping over these big-ass pits, I'm tellin' you."

Or, failing that, like, a nap. Or a bath. He vocalizes both of these things before burying his head in his hands. Maybe he could get one of those microsleeps going. If he can just calm the fuck down, anyway.

> Food? Nap? Bath?

> Benrey's mouth curls into a jagged smile. Of course Gordon would just need some of that weird, seemingly pointless human stuff. You would think after two grand adventures of dragging this sad sack around and listening to him complain every two meters, he'd have picked up on the human necessities. Things like 'burger" and "bed time" and "smelling like preferred smells, and not the natural smells that are apparently 'bad.'"

> A huge sigh heaves out of Benrey and he watches in amusement as it makes Gordon's hair puff out of his face. Small little tiny man, curled up on a chunk of rock, not able to embiggen and make things easier. It's sad and pathetic, almost as sad and pathetic as Gordon looks, but Benrey knows he's capable of being a good enough guy for the both of them. A real bro. A best friend.

> Because he knows Xen inside and out for some reason. And he's observant. He's seen things and can do the mental math necessary to figure out how to problem solve, sort of. He's spent enough time floating around Xen to figure out what those sparkly puddles do, and he's seen enough of those people back in the Wrong World eat the not-Lamarrs (or, at least the Vorti-bros did, which were close enough).

> And, well, Gordon could literally sleep anywhere. There was dirt for days, lots of rocks to align the spine. Fun nap places. Good for Gordon.

> With a burst of pride and dagger-toothed grin, Benrey propped his elbow on the island where Gordon was whining and held out his hand, palm up and flat, extended as an open invitation.

> "Oh. Uh. That it? That's, uh... that's a cool I can do. Big cool for you."

He stares, eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? What do you mean, that's a-- What are you doing?"

> "I'm doing a cool," Benrey responds. Though his voice is still fairly flat, there is a bite to it, hidden almost completely under his monotone. As if to emphasize the point, he lifts his hand and slaps it back down into the earth once more in a way he thought was light. Judging from the way the ground shook and the island rocked, perhaps not as light as he'd imagined.

> "Gonna, uh... help. Or somethin'. You gettin' on or you gonna be a babyman about it?"

Gordon yelps as the ground shakes around him, even though he's (relatively) safe on the ground. "Jesus, Benrey! Watch it!"

What the hell is he doing? His eyes dart between Benrey's hand and face as the gears struggle to turn. It's been a long fucking day, all right, and Benrey's... Benrey-isms are hard enough to understand at the best of times. This is supposed to help, somehow. So, scratch the burger. And the nap, too, probably. So, does that mean he wants to--

No. That's stupid. He's stupid for thinking it. Gordon steadfastly ignores the way his ears prickle and shakes his head, like a dog ridding itself of water.

"Please tell me you're gonna just carry me the rest of the way," Gordon sighs. It's a visible effort for him to get back to his feet. "Hey, actually, why didn't you just do that from the get-go? You're not even breaking a sweat!"

He complains, sure, but it doesn't stop him from dizzily shuffling forward and stepping on. Better late than never. He'll have plenty of time to chew Benrey out for this once he's out of this alien hellscape and back in his own goddamn bed.

> Benrey blinks.

> Oh. Yeah. He probably could have carried Gordon, huh? The thought never really occurred to him at first because, well, why would it? Was he a bad guy--a bad friend--for believing that his bestest buddy was a capable man? Color him insensitive for actually expecting things of Gordon, but he'd just watched the guy win Space Invaders in real life.

> After that, traipsing through Xen should have been a walk in the park.

> Best not to point that out, though. Gordon may take offense and, for once in his life, he isn't out to make him mad. He's trying to be good, trying to carry that camaraderie they built from Shit World Without Sony Products back to Good World With Heavenly Sword. Highlighting Gordon's stupid human failings would only work to reset the karma he'd worked so hard to build up in their social link. Or, you know, however humans fucking worked.

> Instead, he lets Gordon crawl onto his hand and then turns away, wracking his mind for the last place he saw a good puddle. After all, it made sense to start with a bath, right? Eating while gross would make Gordon complain, and sleeping while gross wouldn't be much better. Drifting past island after island, his head swivels to see if maybe there are some good candidates going forward.

> And there's... really not. Testicle stalks. Pointy rocks. Less pointy rocks. Tit-on-stilts that is aggressively spitting little Lamarrs over the edge of a rock chunk that looks like Swiss cheese. Benrey isn't sure what it's hoping to accomplish, but it's sure as fuck not accomplishing it.

> Then, he sees it, in the distance: A glittering pool of blue that sparks like electricity and glitters like cheap body mist. A strange smell, not unlike Sweet Voice, wafts from its direction. It's certainly one of the Good Smells Humans Like. Gordon will love it.

> Wordlessly, he glides toward it. Gordon's smart. He'll know what he's getting at.

Benrey's not saying anything, which is mildly concerning, but he is looking around like he knows what he's looking for. And when Benrey fucks off, Gordon in tow - held in a grip that's a little looser than he likes - Gordon lets his brain wind down for the first time in... a long while. Flying around Xen like this is nervewracking, yeah, but in a way he's more equipped to handle. Benrey's chest at his back helps. It's solid as a wall and deceptively warm, and if he keeps himself pressed flat against it, he can almost forget about these bottomless pits they're flying over.

He lets Benrey go like that for an indeterminable amount of time. (He may have dozed off a little.) But Gordon comes back to himself once Benrey's velocity changes. Gets a bit more pointed. Eventually, Gordon puzzles out that he's heading for one island in particular, one with a shimmering pool on its surface. Not exactly what the endgame was.

Wait. Gordon's brain chugs. He was looking for... some kind of water? Oh, Christ.

"Wait, were you being serious about the bath thing?" he asks as they approach. "I-- I wasn't being that serious about it! Getting out of here kind of seems like the more important thing!"

> "Huh?"

> The word falls off of Benrey's lips despite the fact he actually heard everything Gordon said. He heard him and even registered him, but he just didn't get him. After all, he's fairly certain that Gordon wants a bath considering it was one of the big things that spewed out of his mouth when he was being all needlessly fussy before, so why isn't he just saying it? Owning up to it?

> Was it because it was a detour? Slowing them down? Or was it just Gordon being whatever-the-hell-Gordon-was?

> Yeah, that had to be it. Gordon just doesn't want to get side-tracked. That's fair, he supposes. Or, at the very least, he assumes that's what a human would consider fair, considering how obsessed with "time" and "schedules" and "fast" they all were.

> "Real quick dip," Benrey promises, hoping to put Gordon's mind at ease; it was a far cry from what he typically did, so he could only hope it landed properly, that he was saying the right things and had the right inflections. "Real fast. Get'cha all nice. Wet. Uh. Soaps and hygiene. You know."

"Oh my God, man, it's gonna be a whole fuckin' production!" Gordon agonizes as Benrey brings them to that strange, glittering watering hole. "Saving the world's kinda time-sensitive, you know? And it's always such a hassle getting in and out of this thing! And-- Okay, hold on, you actually want to-- Okay. Fine. Look, I'm just saying, this is weird even for you, Benrey!"

Soaps. Hygiene. You know. Letting his best frenemy peel him out of his suit so he can scrub him clean, like normal people do. A shiver runs down the back of Gordon's neck. There's gotta be some kind of catch, but honestly, he's having a hard enough time keeping up with events as they're written. If there's some kind of malicious subtext to this whole thing, well, that's not his problem. He's got more important things to worry about, like convincing Benrey that it would be a little more prudent to just keep forging on rather than waste valuable time on a bath.

...Unfortunately, he's close enough to smell whatever it is that wafts off the surface in waves, and it makes Gordon's resolve waver. It's a clean smell, warm and vaguely fruity, with an undercurrent of salinity. Like a shower that's just been used, almost. God, he'd really like that, wouldn't he.

> The words don't really have weight to them anymore. If Benrey had a nickel for every time Gordon called him "weird" or told him he was endangering the world by taking detours, he'd have enough nickels to melt them down and make a big-ass nickel. And, judging from the way even Gordon's mouth wasn't running anymore, it didn't seem like Gordon had put any weight into his own words, either.

> Which was good. Real good. It meant Benrey was doing a nice job of not pressing every one of Gordon's buttons like a kid in an elevator, and being a proper friend. Best friend. More than friend? God, he fucking wished.

> And he'd shut up right in the nick of time, too, because the urge to tease is building up inside of Benrey like pressure in a flaming aerosol can. It's hard not to want to pick at him when Gordon is griping like this, just goading him on with his (strangely cute) bullshit. Benrey mentally pats himself on the back for a job well done as he glides to the edge of the island and leans carefully over the tiny expanse of mottled dirt and glittering water.

> "S'fine. You're fine. S'gonna be fine. Just cleanin' you up, makin' you pretty. Like a good friend. Best friend."

> The water bubbles against the back of his hand as he extends it, dangling Gordon over the surface so he can get a good look at it himself. Maybe, with the proper viewing, he'll realize that this will be a pleasant time all around. Good for him. Fun for Benrey. Bonding experience.

> "Gonna make you, uh, real shiny. Polished.  A, ah, regular... Casa... Casa del Nova."

> With that, he hooks a nail under one of the thigh pieces of the HEV suit and waits, eyes resting on Gordon's face in search of approval. Approval he selfishly hopes comes quick, before reflex takes over and he pops it off regardless.

Gordon peers over the edge of Benrey's hand to look down at the water, where it lies placid and clear and a vivid blue-green. Mysterious bubbles aside. It's... it's like one of those pools at Yellowstone, he thinks dizzily. They look so warm and inviting and then you step in and suddenly your flesh is deciding to melt right off of you. Gordon's stomach swoops unpleasantly.

Then Benrey offhandedly mentions making him pretty, as if he were just trying to sell Gordon on a new restaurant, and it swoops for an entirely different reason. An irritating reason.

"Don't just fucking say things like that," he says hotly, his voice pitching up and cracking from nerves.

But it becomes an afterthought in short order when Gordon feels Benrey's nail tugging at his HEV suit, and he realizes that Benrey's very, very serious about this. Especially when he fixes Gordon with that intent stare. Like he's waiting for something. Permission? It must be, since he's not making any moves to pop off the armor on his thigh. Gordon looks down at Benrey's finger, chipped black paint peeking out from the corners, then back up at Benrey.

Oh, fuck this. He hates when Benrey does this. It's one of those mind games, or something. Make Gordon be the one to make the call, like it's a game of chicken and Benrey's trying to get him to lose. Instead of, you know, not derailing his entire fucking journey in the first place with the suggestion of a bath. One where, well, it does smell really nice. And he can feel the ambient heat from the water from his perch on Benrey's palm. And Benrey's offering to pry him out of his suit and, presumably, do the washing for him. So Gordon doesn't have to move a muscle. Or even think about it.

His face twists and turns its way through a melange of emotions before he decides, fuck it. Even if this is weird, and Benrey's probably playing some kind of 4-dimensional chess, his mind's already sold itself on the idea. So Gordon's tongue darts out to wet his lips, mouth unexpectedly dry.

"I-- Okay-- You know what, fine. We're already here. Just... no, fucking, tricks or jokes or whatever, man. If you leave me on some fucking rock with my dick out, I'm going to kill you," Gordon tells Benrey.

> What Benrey wants to say is that Gordon is being a baby. A bitch, even. There's no reason for him to get all flustered and pissy when they've already done so many things together. Things that only the closest of bros do, like take down a hostile invading force and push their dicks together and make out. But instead, Benrey takes a deep and steady breath as he works his nails deeper under the chassis of the HEV suit and tugs up with a satisfying click as the latches come undone and the thigh piece flops uselessly off of Gordon.

> "Cool."

> He moves onto the next section, eyes narrowing and eyebrows knitting above his nose as he looks down at Gordon and tries to focus. Head empty, aside from trying to figure out how in the hell he's actually supposed to undo all the delicate bits with fingers as big as his human. It was easier when he was small, and he supposes he could be small again, but that would be no fun. Perhaps he could just rip it off of Gordon with his teeth like the top of a sardine can, but it would be even less fun to deal with the little guy yelling at him for hours.

> Getting Gordon's goat was fun and all, but god, did the guy know how to harp on a subject like no other person he'd ever met.

> Instead, Benrey's tongue pokes out between his fangs as he presses the tip of his finger against the inside of Gordon's other thigh and lets his fingernail search for the seam, the latch. He cocks his head like an owl and leans down close enough that Gordon could touch his face, heaving out a huge and uncharacteristically irritated breath. From here, he can smell the musky odor of sweat and dirt and grime and alien goo, and it's strangely nice. Earthy. Very Gordon.

> He'd smelled it before, when he wasn't quite this big, when Gordon was unzipping his suit and climbing into his lap and drool pools at the corner of Benrey's mouth, equal parts saliva and lusty Sweet Voice and--

> Click.

> The other piece of thigh armor falls away. The noise shakes Benrey to his senses.

> "Turn please," he orders mindlessly. His voice is a bit more husky and demanding than it had been a moment before.

Gordon watches as Benrey pops off his armor like it's nothing, like Gordon hasn't spent hours fruitlessly trying to do the same himself. It would have saved him the constant indignity of relying on Benrey to get him in and out of the fucking thing. He tries really hard not to think about the indignity of this, too - Benrey's face so close to his, a hot, irritable breath fanning over him, and fingers at his--

Oh. Gordon jumps a little at the insistent press of a fingertip against his inner thigh, and heat rushes to his face. This part's mildly embarrassing at the best of times, when Benrey's smaller and more human-sized, but now? With fingers much too big for the job? Spreading his legs apart where he sits, rubbing insistently against his inner thigh... He can't help the shaky breath that forces its way out of him.

Jesus Christ, his hands are big, Gordon thinks, mind racing. Sure, yes, he's had this thought before, when Benrey was using them to slap gunships out of the air, but it's a little more pointed when they're prodding him like this. He tenses. Not entertaining these thoughts today, thank you. The whole point of this, presumably, was for a normal, ordinary bath. In a pool of mysterious alien water. With his rival stripping him down and scrubbing him. While he's so big that he could squish Gordon like a bug, if he wanted... or pick Gordon up and maneuver him around, broad fingers all over him, sizing him up. If he wanted.

He comes back to himself when he hears a command. Turn please. Quick and insistent. Gordon's eyes jerk away from where they'd been staring at Benrey's finger.

"Turn? Like, fucking-- God, ow--" Gordon hisses through his teeth as the motion twists one of his aching muscles the wrong way. "I don't even know why I'm doing this. It's not like this was stopping you... You know, I'm starting to think you just like bossing people around for no fucking reason." Despite his bitching, he does as he's told.

> Maybe he does like it. The bossing, that is. Benrey isn't sure. It's one of the few human things he knows--his job back at Black Mesa--and it's one of those things he's good at. Usually. At least now he feels good at it, with Gordon actually listening to him.

> He watches as Gordon turns, head shifting to tilt in the other direction, watching as his human trustingly turns his back to him and displays himself in a way that makes more Sweet Voice seep from between his teeth. He sniffs, he uses the back of his free hand to wipe away a trickle of fluorescent fluid trailing from his lips, and quickly wipes his hands off on his pants. His eyes never leaves Gordon's back.

> Lower back.

> His ass.

> Benrey had told him before that it was a nice one, and it was still true... uh, even if he can't really see it with Gordon sitting and all. He can imagine it in its entirety, though, nice and small, even as he fumbles with the latches on the back of the chest piece. He hardly notices as he clicks it open and the front hits the pad of his palm with an audible slap of metal against skin. He reaches around to pluck it away, the side of his hand brushing against Gordon's front.

> Gordon's heaving chest. His soft midsection. His...

> Benrey shakes his head as if snapping himself out of a trance. An involuntary laugh snorts out of his nose as he leans down, peeking over Gordon's shoulder like a creeping dragon, breath hot against the back of Gordon's neck.

> "Cute."

> And with that, he grabs the next part of Gordon: his arm, raising it up effortlessly like a doll's and carefully searching for the next latch.

Maybe facing away from Benrey wasn't the smartest idea, in retrospect. It feels like he's closer, somehow, his breath coming hotter and faster against Gordon's back. Benrey breathing down his neck should be, like, gross. Creepy. Gordon knows by now that Benrey likes to make a big deal about keeping them clean, but it's not like he knows when Benrey brushed last. It shouldn't smell... like that. Sweet. A distinct chemical note on the underside. Like ketones on his breath, but nothing that Gordon can place for certain.

Sweet Voice, probably. It's muted and subtle. He's not belting it out like he usually does, so Gordon can only guess what Benrey's feeling. Unfortunately, he's all too aware of what he's feeling: goosebumps, pebbling his skin from the neck down. A little frisson. They crawl all the way down his arms and make him shiver.  He can practically feel Benrey's eyes on him, too, all up close and personal. Don't break a sweat, he wills himself, because he knows Benrey's watching him like a hawk.

It doesn't stop a bead from pooling at the back of his hairline, then losing the fight against gravity and slowly trickling down his neck.

Benrey snorts, and Gordon flinches, cursing under his breath. He couldn't even have that, huh. Then Benrey has the audacity to call him cute. And that makes his blood pulse, briefly flashing his skin with heat, before receding just as quickly and leaving a chill in its wake.

"Wh-- Whoa, okay," Gordon starts. His indignant response is temporarily cut off by Benrey lifting his arm between a thumb and forefinger. He offers about as much resistance as a fucking action figure, even creaking a little for good measure, and it's distracting, okay?

After a few moments, though, he regains his bearings. "Shut up, man," he says, flustered. "I'm not even-- Just-- Quit being weird, okay?" Because, frankly, this is weird. He's not used to Benrey being so... accommodating. Helpful. Nice. And he doesn't know what Benrey's endgame is, here. So it just leaves Gordon feeling off-kilter. Uncertain. A little hot in the face.

> Benrey's eyes flick up like a lizard that's spotted its next meal when he hears Gordon's words, conveniently at the same time as he finds the latch with his nail. The armor on his upper arm falls away with a clonk and his fingers move down to the much-easier-to-remove gloves and wrist pieces, which come undone with a light twist and an even lighter yank. But his gaze isn't even looking at what he's doing, instead resting on the back of Gordon's hair, now wet with sweat and the dampness of his own breath.

> His skin is raised up in little bumps, and so are his hackles. Something bright and violet and base, fluorescent, builds at the back of Benrey's tongue, and he swallows it down. He has to focus, keep his composure. Get the other arm with a few quick clicks, fingers now more adventurous than they were before. The pads trail across Gordon's back, the undersuit bunching with his touch, pressing into his side for no reason other than the urge to feel. Then, when the second arm is freed, he remembers he forgot the boots.

> "Not being weird," Benrey protests as he wrangles Gordon in his grip, sighing heavily as he pinches him lightly in his grasp and rolls him in his hand like some kind of trinket. Until they're face to face once again and Gordon is flat on his back in his palm. He takes a moment to idly scratch his chin before reaching for the metal encasing his lower legs and feet.

> "Not weird to, uh, help a bro out. Be a friend. Friends call friends cute. All the time. Every day. S'pre... pre-requi... prere..." He pauses and stills and, then, with unwarranted confidence, forces the word out and continues fiddling. "It's pre-registered to, uh, do that. Yeah."

Blunt fingers at his arm, his back, his sides, prodding and rolling him around - each investigatory touch makes Gordon cognizant of just how much he's holding his breath. Until Benrey manhandles him into laying flat on his back, that is. A startled noise bursts out of him, and then Gordon's looking straight up at Benrey, with nowhere to go to escape him. Even without a hand pinning him down, he can't help but feel like he's stuck in place, anyway.

At least Gordon can sit up on his elbows a little. Less like he's some kind of specimen that way. And he lets Benrey fiddle with the boots, the strange feeling that curls in his stomach easing up on him the longer Benrey messes with something other than his soft, fleshy, vulnerable bits. He lets out a shaky breath of... relief. Let's go with that.

"IIII don't know about that," he says. "I'll be real with you, I'm not the kind of guy who does that... Uh. Well. Except there was that one time in high school? But it kind of weirded her out and she stopped talking to me."

Gordon pauses for a moment, brows wrinkling in thought. Then he shakes himself. "Anyway, that's not even the point. The point is," Gordon emphasizes, feeling like he's trying to present a convincing legal argument to a judge with all the size and breadth of (and possibly, the powers of) some ancient Greek god, "I think you have a, uh, tenuous grasp of what friendship entails, buddy. My friends don't call me cute."

As an afterthought, under his breath, he adds, "Nobody calls me cute." It comes out more bitter than he expects.

> The boots come off, one after another. The shin guards, too. Politely, Benrey scoops up all the miscellaneous pieces piled in his palm between his free fingers and puts them to rest next to the pool of... well, "water." Liquid. Something, though he's hard pressed to tell you exactly what it is. "The Bath."

> He listens as he does so, to Gordon squawking and muttering and saying, well, things. Things that he's not really listening to as he brings his hands back up to Gordon and tries to figure out where the zipper to the bodysuit is. Technically, he knows where it is, but his fingers are huge and the zippy-uppy part is so small, and he's prodding and poking with gentle strokes along Gordon's chest and belly where he saw the seam once-upon-a-time. He feels his nail click against the metal and it's... uh, well, it's aggravating.

> And Benrey isn't used to this kind of aggravation. Fuck's sake, he just wants to see some dic... ah. He just wants to help his best friend get a nice bath and feel better. Because he is a good guy who does good things like kill gun bugs for tiny dudes who can't shoot straight and not drive off with vehicles when Gordon leaves him alone. He's a good guy who doesn't want to be bad and--

> "Uh," he drawls, his mouth moving before he can really catch himself, "fuckin'... maybe people would call you cute if you, uh, weren't such a, uh, mean. So mean about it. Mean to me, just trying to say nices. To my best friend. Being such a good and a cool."

> His voice dies as he misses the zipper again. Fuck. When he speaks again, it darkens.

> "Please unzip suit? Please? Thank-you."

Soon enough Benrey's got him down to that reinforced bodysuit, the last piece of armor sliding off his hand with little resistance. Usually, this is where this process stops: Benrey gets him out of the armor, and Gordon fucks off and does whatever it is he needs to do. Change. Wash up. Sleep. The part where Benrey starts tugging at the fabric in search of the zipper? That's new. And it catches Gordon so unawares that he can't even speak.

That fingertip strokes him, almost, warm even through the black fabric, and a harsh breath whistles through Gordon's nose. It feels him up from his chest to his belly, a warm and insistent pressure. All the words in Gordon's brain get trapped in a mental sieve. In their place is a single, repeating thought:

Oh, God.

Benrey keeps trying, again and again, fingernails scraping uselessly against Gordon's belly. And his eyebrows furrow harder with the effort, frustration evident in his frown. And his fingers. Their grasping grows rough and imprecise and Gordon's trying so hard to bite his lip because there's an ugly noise threatening to punch his way out of him and Benrey's saying something to him that he can barely focus on and then finally, finally, he's giving up and pulling away. Christ.

It takes a moment for his mental fog to clear and for Benrey's words to sink in. Unzip? Himself? Oh, no. Somehow that's worse.

"Can you, like... give me some privacy, maybe?" Gordon complains.

He immediately feels stupid afterward. It trickles down from his scalp like something cold and slimy. So he clears his throat, and admits, begrudging, "I, uh... I'm not trying to be mean. It's been a long fucking day, okay? You're... uh... Well. Thanks. I guess. For trying to be nice."

There's a beat before the silence gets to be too uncomfortable, and Gordon hurriedly follows it up by saying, "Don't take this the wrong way. I think you could still use a few pointers on being 'nice' to 'humans', you know."

> "Wha?"

> In a second, the irritation is gone. Benrey's expression turns flat. He leans in close to Gordon and inhales deeply (yup, still smells like Gordon) and exhales just as hard.

> "I'm nice," he defends, eyes flicking down the pile of HEV parts on the island. "Fuckin', ah, Mother Tuh-ree-sah. You're the one who is bein'--"

> A pause. Nice. He was being nice, and he wasn't going to pick at Gordon. He wasn't going to point out that he was the one being snippy, while he was out here undressing him, and carrying him around, and getting ready to give him a bath, and maybe touch his--

> Wait.

> "Privacy?"

> The word tastes bad, real bad. The kind of bad that makes Benrey want to scrape his tongue off on his teeth. That isn't how they'd played these games before. Is this even still a game, though? Did "nice" contradict "games" too much? He isn't sure and he doesn't even give himself a chance to think about it as he nudges Gordon encouragingly with a finger and the words just start rolling out of his mouth.

> "No? No place to private at, bro. Maybe gonna have to just, ah, suck it up, friend. Besides--"

> Benrey leans forward on the island on his elbow, chin resting in his hand. As his body tilts, Gordon raises higher up due to his shifting of positions.

> "Can't, ah, can't not look. Dinosaurs and, uh, zombies out here. Ghosts. Gotta keep my eye on you. Safe-tee."

Safety. Right. As much as Gordon doesn't want to admit it, Benrey has a point. He's... vulnerable like this. And it would be just his luck that he gets beset by a peeper puppy with his dick hanging out. More to the point, he knows that it's stupid to develop a sense of modesty all of a sudden when Benrey's seen his dick before. It's just, you know, the size. The scrutiny.

Heat lodges itself in Gordon's face and makes a home there as Benrey brings him all the closer. As if to see him better. "Dinosaurs and zombies," he snorts. He can't believe that's the justification Benrey's giving him. And he can't believe he's buying it.

"Just... fucking, okay. Don't stare, at least," Gordon tells him, as if it will help.

The zipper's nestled in the seam at his neck, right in the center. Gordon fishes it out with shaky fingers. And then, slowly, he drags it down his front.

As he does, his flesh starts to spill from the suit in a creamy sliver. He's paler underneath, skin shielded from the sun for so long that his characteristic tan has all but faded. Consequences of running around in a HEV suit in the middle of Bulgaria. The rattle of the zipper rings in Gordon's ears, louder than life. First his chest, then his stomach, prickling with goosebumps in turn as they're revealed.

Finally, he pulls it down to its endpoint, just under his navel. Gordon's face burns with embarrassment.

> That... was easier than Benrey anticipated. Usually there's more resistance or, you know, playing involved whenever he asked Gordon to do something like that. Usually he had something a little more snide to say. Something in the air has changed, though, and he dimly wonders if maybe all of that advice he'd taken from the Resistors (Resistance? Transistors? Alyx, basically) has actually paid off.

> Learning how to human does, in fact, make interacting with Gordon easier.

> His pupils widen as he stares, mouth slightly agape, as more and more of Gordon's skin is revealed to him, a pretty porcelain color that looks incredibly soft and as delicate as a china doll. Usually he's darker, tanner; Benrey didn't know humans could change colors like that, but it's an interesting development and one that requires further investigation.

> So he leans closer, head tilted, watching the zipper come undone. Curiosity grips him as he gingerly reaches up and hooks his nails into the open edges of the suit and tugs, enough to jostle Gordon and peel away the wrapper but not enough to actually knock Gordon off his feet. As he does so, he ignores the sounds of protests, mouth opening wider and lifting in a sharkish grin.

> He's so pale now, but he's just as soft as Benrey remembers. Just as warm. Hair's still in all the right places, muscles in his arms growing visible as Benrey tugs the sleeves down, then the rest, leaving the top half of the bodysuit dangling from around his still-covered waist.

> He waits a moment, drinking in the sight. He could almost see his--

> No. No. No dick thinking, not now. No. He wasn't going to say anything because he was seriously just trying to be nice. And make Gordon shut up. And...

> And...

> "Cute."

> The word comes out while his brain is still arguing with himself. For a moment, he considers apologizing, or trying to pretend he never said it, but ultimately decides to stand by what he said.

> His eyes lift to rest on Gordon's face as he silently doubles down, waiting for a reply.

"Hey, careful," Gordon yelps, caught off-guard by fingers at the edges of his open suit. "You don't have to fucking-- Benrey, I can do this myself!" But there's no fighting him off before Benrey's tugging it down his shoulders, baring him from the waist up.

Impatient. That's the word that comes to mind. Benrey's itching to get him out of this thing, Gordon realizes. If it wasn't already obvious by that insistent scrape of nails against his jumpsuit, or the way Benrey's looking at him now, eyes wide and mouth parted. That heat in Gordon's cheeks crawls down to his chest. He's staring at Gordon like he's hungry, and all the pasty skin being revealed to him may as well be a juicy T-bone steak. Being half-naked ought to be making him pretty chilly in a place like this, but for some reason, it feels way too fucking hot right now.

Thankfully, Benrey stops there, which gives him a moment to get his bearings. On the other hand, Benrey's calling him fucking cute again, and Gordon was having a bad enough time handling that earlier. Now? Jesus, the guy's barely paying attention to him. Mumbling it like it's an afterthought. He doesn't know what it means.

"I-- I'm not fucking cute, dude, we already established this," he insists, doing his level best not to meet Benrey's stare. Gordon folds his arms, irritable and flushed a bright red. "I'm too mean or whatever. I got the picture. You don't have to keep fucking with me."

> Oh, he's changing colors again. Red now, from the tips of his ears down to his chest, and Benrey snorts a laugh. Of course humans can change colors. He'd seen him do this before. A few times actually.

> But he's just turning red, and being snippy, and he's not making a move to take off the rest of the suit. Benrey's eyes flick from Gordon to the water and, with a low chuckle, he decides to take the cue. Which... was a cue, right? He's pretty sure it's a cue, but humans were weird to begin with and Gordon was odder than most.

> Has to be a cue, he decides after a moment of silence wherein Gordon doesn't budge. He grabs the draping top of the suit and gently peels it downwards towards Gordon's feet, watching it pull away from sweaty, dirty skin. Watching it expose dark curls of hair just below his stomach, and watching Gordon's dick spill out into the open air. Benrey's teeth dig into his lips as he watches, even as his hands move clumsily to strip the rest of the rubbery material off of his legs.

> He's touched that before. Wants to touch it again, wants to say something about it. But he can't because apparently it was bad form to say shit about your best bro's average-but-good meat when he wasn't specifically asking, or at least that's what his stupid, skinny doppelganger had said and--

> God. Wait. No. He shakes his head. Best to focus on anything else.

> What else had the Resist-y Squad said? To listen? Humans liked listening? Even when they were being bitchy little drama-snots?

> Then he should... listen, right? But... what had Gordon said? He wasn't actually paying attention. He furrows his brow and his stare intensifies as he tries to piece together enough of the words he did hear to paint a picture. It takes a moment, but soon, it clicks.

> Oh. Yeah. Not cute. Blah, blah. Something, something "mean."

> Benrey's mouth snaps shut as he struggles to tear his eyes away from Gordon's cock, instead keeping a trained eye on his face. His mind is a machine running on fumes with rattling parts, but he struggles through the distraction. He's going to be reassuring. He's a good friend.

> "Uh... yeah? Mean? Cute? You can be both. Bratty little, ah, Gordon Meanman with his nice... cute. Cute little hog."

> The words come out before he can stop them.

> Goddammit.

Oh, God, okay, so none of what he said got through, clearly. He squawks out as much. Gordon's mind spins into overdrive as Benrey manifestly does not let him take care of it himself, instead peeling the jumpsuit clean off his hips and legs and exposing him from top to bottom. His heart thunders in his chest, and he presses his legs tightly together in a futile attempt at modesty.

"My-- my cute little-- Jesus Christ, Benrey, you can not say shit like like that!" Gordon snaps. He jams his hands between his legs to cover himself, humiliation boiling over.

Fucking Benrey. Always saying the worst possible shit, the most embarrassing shit. Gordon thinks this as furiously as he can, because if he acknowledges that there's anything other than purestrain embarrassment and indignation at play, he's gonna snap like a twig. That's all it is. He's a normal guy, and normal guys don't feel their dicks twitch when their best friend calls their dick cute. And... little. That's worse. Much worse.

The thing that Gordon's still failing to understand is why Benrey's still calling him cute. Yeah, it gets his goat, but it's not like Benrey was in the habit of pulling this shit before. And... And Gordon doesn't know why it's getting to him so much, either.

The first time seemed like a prank. A bad joke. The second time, an accident. And the third - fourth - fifth? The times after that, he's not sure anymore. But each time it gets his skin burning hotter and his heart skipping a beat and Gordon's still pissed off but he's not sure exactly why. (Well, in the general sense. This time, it's because Benrey's straight up insulting his dick, thank you.)

"Why did I even agree to this," he moans, head hanging between his shoulders. "Everything's always gotta be a big fucking ordeal for Gordon. You know what, just put me down if you're gonna-- gonna make fun of my meat or whatever! I'll get myself a bath and then we can go and forget this ever happened."

> There is something about the way Gordon fusses at him that makes Benrey's heart skip a beat, though it also awakens something in the back of his mind that he's been consciously trying to tamp down. The urge to pick at him grows as large as his smile as he hooks two fingers under Gordon's arms and lifts him up and out of his palm like a claw in a skill crane. Words dance on the tip of his tongue, ones better fit for a schoolyard bully, and he rumbles a dark laugh as he contemplates what to say.

> It seems the crack about his hog got him all worked up in a delicious sort of way, judging from the way he's still bright crimson and his dick seems appreciative of Benrey's attention. He could double down on that. Then again, he was supposed to be nice in this situation, wasn't he? He'd been doing so good up until this point, and he could imagine the Resist-y People would be proud if they could see him now.

> But the reaction. It's... it's good. Seeing Gordon's dick twitch, seeing him bright as a tomato, seeing him sweating and nervously dodging his gaze. All were signs that he was interested, that he may just be thinking the same things Benrey has been trying not to think and... fuck, them's good thoughts. Great thoughts.

> Maybe there's a line to walk between. Play the game and still be "nice." Benrey wets his lips and huffs a sweet-scented laugh into Gordon's face, before gently lowering him into the water. The surface of the pool practically sparks as Gordon's bare feet make contact, and a shimmering azure mist billows into the air.

> "Nuh-uh. Nope," Benrey replies with a pop of the p. "You're, uh, tired. Gonna, y'know, get you sparkly. Clean. Squeaky. Pretty. Make you feel so good you'll, uh, wanna buy BFF necklaces after."

> Once Gordon is nestled in the pool, he leans down close and presses down on his shoulders to urge him into a seated position.

> "'Sides, ah. Not making fun. S'nice. Cute. Fun size."

> Emphasis on "fun," Benrey thinks, and his smile widens.

A tingle effervesces across Gordon's skin as Benrey slowly lowers him into the water, something like carbonation but not quite. For one, bubbles aren't nucleating on him so much as drifting toward the surface, sluggish and small. But the effect is as curiously refreshing as a cold glass of Pepsi.

In contrast, the water itself is warm and clear, and the humidity fogs up his glasses in short order. Makes it hard to see Benrey before he's firmly suggesting that Gordon sit down. With his hand. He's not expecting it, and he sinks to his knees with a splash and a quiet "whoa, shit".

Gordon rights himself, sitting back against the edge of the pool. And he opens his mouth to say-- well, something, you know, there was a lot to unpack in whatever the fuck Benrey just said to him, but he barely gets it out before Benrey's talking over him.

Cute. Fun size.

"Stop, okay, just stop talking about my meat! Can we please move on? Any other topic?" He crosses his arms in front of his face.

This is, it's too fucking much, okay, there's-- it's just-- the word was already starting to crawl under his skin, and he's just an average American male! You're not supposed to say this shit to another dude! And you're not supposed to, fucking, swallow and shudder when you hear that shit, either. Not supposed to like being talked down to like that. By... by such a big guy. Who probably does think he's a fun size right now. Probably wants to...

Gordon splashes his face with water. Then he takes off his glasses after the fact, feeling like an idiot. See, this is why he's got to get Benrey to knock it off. Too much. Gets him lost in his own head. Gets his blood pumping. And the last thing he wants is to embarrass himself by looking a gift horse in the mouth, getting a boner when Benrey's just trying to do him a solid.

Well. At least that's what he's saying he's doing. The jury's still out on that one. But either way, the most likely outcome is that Benrey never lets him live it down, and Gordon doesn't know if he can handle the psychological devastation right now. So.

"Here, look, I'll even... okay, so, what is this stuff, anyway? It feels like I'm taking a bath in a... a hot energy drink. But like, in a good way?" He cups some in his hand and lets it spill through his fingers. "Last time I jumped in this stuff, I think it fixed a bone. Is that normal? Weirdest fucking thing I ever felt, man."

> "I 'unno," Benrey answers honestly. Because, well, he doesn't know what this stuff is. Even if he knows a lot about Xen (and would be hard-pressed to tell you exactly how he knows these things), it's not like he knew much more than "this thing will eat you" and "this thing won't." All he knows is that these pools feel good and smell good and do things that are good, and could more than likely get Gordon clean. Make him have a more agreeable scent than the already agreeable people-odor he's already wearing.

> The Gordon smell. It's... a nice smell.

> "It's water. Uh. Bubbles." Benrey dips his fingertips in the pool to wet them and feels the curious, sparkling sensation around his skin; it's warm and cold and fizzy and, honestly? Yeah, kind of refreshing. Like caffeinated Pop Rocks or something. He dimly wonders what it tastes like, but ultimately decides not to drink the bath water.

> "Doesn't matter. You're thinking a lot. About wrong things. Need to focus on, uh, getting you ready. For the ball. Gordo-rella." He pauses, scowling. That was bad even for him. Quickly, he recovers, as if it never happened. "So, quiet? Please? Relax?"

> With that, Benrey extends one wet finger and presses against Gordon's chest, as carefully as he can, working in the glittering water and scrubbing gingerly at his chest hair. He works his muscles with a care he didn't know he possessed, and then maneuvers to his shoulders. He feels Gordon's muscles loosening underneath his touch and it makes him feel... accomplished.

> But his eyes keep straying down, down into the water where Gordon's dick should be, obscured by bubbles and blue. And he exhales, fighting the urge to press a button, to raise him up and see if it's still twitching in anticipation, wondering if he'll see it break the surface and greet him.

> Benrey's eyes screw shut and his fingers still as he takes a moment to force himself to be, as Gordon would say, "normal." It is a foreign feeling.

> He is not a fan.

"G-Gordo-rella?" Gordon bursts out laughing despite himself. "That's so bad, I know you can do better than that!" And the funny thing is, he does know. Benrey's got jokes. He's... good at making Gordon laugh. Even when he's clearly phoning it in.

The laughter sets him at ease for the first time since they'd set out the day before. And when Benrey reaches out to start scrubbing, Gordon flinches, but does as Benrey suggests and eventually relaxes into it.

Benrey's strangely quiet as he does it. Doesn't make any dumb quips. Doesn't start talking about video games or whatever. So Gordon doesn't feel inclined to break the silence, either. The meaner part of him insists that it's just because he doesn't want to set Benrey off on some dipshit tangent, but the truth is, it's kind of nice. The quiet. Even if it's bordering on surreal. All he can hear is the quiet sound of Benrey washing his skin, dipping his fingers into the water. His breathing, measured but heavy. And the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest.

The bath itself isn't half-bad, either. He didn't expect Benrey to be this... careful. Not a word Gordon really associates with the guy. But Benrey's fingers work his muscles in tight circles, slow and firm, washing off however many days of sweat and dirt and blood, and Gordon's finds himself melting a little. Letting his eyes drift shut.

He groans when Benrey works his thumb into his back just right, dislodging a knot in the muscle he wasn't even aware of until it was gone. "Oh my God, how did you do that," Gordon breathes.

> Oh. Oh.

> That noise was a... nice one. A pleasant one. One that makes Benrey hesitate for a second and lose his smile before quickly regaining it and pretending he'd never misplaced it in the first place. And he figures Gordon likely didn't notice--his human can't see without the glasses--so he says nothing as he dips his fingers yet again and massages into Gordon's shoulders, exploring every inch and feeling how bizarre every groove and curve is underneath the pad of his finger.

> It's odd, but not a bad odd. The kind of odd that requires further investigation because, while he's had his hands on Gordon before, this feels different. Better, even, in some ways. Motivated by equal parts curiosity and mounting desire, he continues to glide across Gordon's skin and work his muscles and feel them loosen and pause to take in the rapid thudding of Gordon's tiny, tiny pulse against his skin.

> Benrey swallows the Sweet Voice pooling in the back of his mouth. He gags. He coughs into his shoulder. His voice breaks a bit as his normally flat demeanor begins to falter amid a mob of intrusive thoughts that march right into his brain like little soldiers.

> "Can do it 'cause 'm not human. Got magic fingers. Call now. For $19.99, we'll throw in a second one free," Benrey recites, but his eyes are still looking for a hint of cock. But not just that--

> "Limited time offer. Supplies going fast. Better, uh, pick up that phone."

> -- his chest, bits of leg sticking out of the water, that pretty neck, that long hair--

> "Call in, uh, next fifteen minutes and I'll... uh..."

> --that stomach, slightly soft around the middle, and arms that were too strong for somebody of his persuasion--

> "Uh."

> -- every inch that HEV suit wouldn't let him see. Gordon would look so much better in something more... breezy. Clingy. Revealing.

> "Fuck," he says breathily. Something roils inside him, and a lot of it is unfortunately roiling below the belt. So much for subtlety. So much for "nice."

Benrey keeps scrubbing, keeps rubbing his sore muscles between thumbs and index fingers, and it takes a conscious effort for Gordon not to doze off. Even the prickling of fizzy bubbles against his skin fights an upward battle to keep him awake. It's just, he's been on the go for way too long, now, and days of tension are leaching out of him, and Benrey's, like, weirdly good at this. For once, Gordon doesn't have to be thinking about parallel universes and the end of the fucking world or whatever. Somebody else can do the thinking for him.

And then he starts rambling about magic fingers like he's hosting some kind of infomercial and Gordon's laugh comes easier and harder than it has any right to. But Benrey's trailing off now, distracted. Swearing under his breath. Gordon blinks open his eyes and glances up at him.

Despite his lack of glasses, Benrey's big enough (and close enough) that Gordon can make out most of his expression, even if it's fuzzy and indistinct. His mouth hangs open a little, and his brows are knotted up under the cast shadow of his helmet. Like he's thinking about something.

"Free shipping?" Gordon finishes his joke for him. Benrey must have lost his train of thought again. Gordon's mostly used to it... mostly.

He shrugs and rolls his shoulders from side to side, grunting and making small, quiet noises as he stretches. Man, that feels good. There must be something in the water, even if Benrey was, as usual, unhelpful as to what.

Finally, Gordon decides to tug out the band from his hair, spilling it loose over his shoulders. He snaps it around his wrist for safekeeping, then runs his hands through his hair to shake it out.

"Uh. While we're at it. Think you could get my hair later? Like, I don't know where you got the soap from, but I'm assuming you can just, like, magic up some conditioner or something, too."

> Benrey doesn't know how to tell Gordon he didn't actually have soaps. He said so, but he... he didn't. If not for Gordon pointing out that he could "magic" some up, he might have been really stuck, but with a quick shake of his head to bring himself back to his senses, his face lights up once more with a teasing smile and his tone eases back into his typical taunting monotone.

> "Uh. Yeahs. Soaps and, uh, condo-stuff. Got'cha."

> There is a flash of green as he lifts his hand above him (in a dramatic way that he hopes is as cool and impressive as it looks in his head), and feels something slimy manifest in his hands. Slimy and, well, scented like a Glade plug-in. Like flowers and "summer breezes" and things that are a lot more Earth-y than the Sweet Voice. It's a nice color, too, but one that doesn't match how he feels it should look, because it smells more like blue than it does white and...

> ... You know what? It doesn't matter.

> Benrey dips a fingertip in the soap like a child about to paint and, tongue poking out between his teeth once more, sets to work giving Gordon a once-over yet again. He hopes that maybe Gordon won't notice or point out the fact he hadn't even used soap in the first place, as distracted as he was, and just accept the fact that Benrey is once more rubbing his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his legs. Lifting up limbs and maneuvering them to get into hard-to-reach places. Pushing a little firmer than before to feel for that fluttering pulse.

> God, his own heart is beginning to match it beat for beat.

> "Yeah," Benrey mutters at long last as his tongue darts back into his mouth, "I can. Do that. Get your hair."

> His hair. His hair is so pretty when it's down, already having grown out after he cut it in the Bad Ending World. Silky and nice with bits of gray that make him look like he's as smart as he thinks he is--

> No, no. Nice. Nice. He is grappling with the idea of being nice!

> "Get your hair with, uh, real shit. Good shampoo. Actual soaps and stuff that ain't, uh, the stuff. Your stuff. Head and Shoulders. Make you look real good, real nice. Nice for m--uh."

> He pauses. He snaps his mouth shut. He pauses over Gordon's body and thinks for a moment. He wants to say it, he wants to tease and pick and make Gordon flush bright red and play their stupid goddamn game, but now isn't the time. He doesn't think so, at least? Maybe it is?

> Does Gordon think it is? He hopes so, but he doesn't know how to tell. And, apparently, humans didn't like it when their alien best friends played games they didn't want to play.

> "... Mandatory hair inspection," he recovers. "Black Mesa, uh, protocol. Already fucked up the passport. Don't... don't fuck up hair day."

Blood doesn't so much rush to Gordon's face as it crawls, moving as sluggishly as his mind does, processing this. He knows what Benrey was gonna say before he snapped his mouth shut like a mousetrap. Gordon swore he could even hear the teeth click.

Maybe he didn't actually say it, but Gordon's entire system reacts as though he has, because, fucking, he did! For all intents and purposes! A bright, prickling heat surges down his spine that has nothing to do with the water. Why does he talk like that?! Fucking cooing at him, like Benrey's taking some kind of sick pleasure in teasing him in the most embarrassing way possible... but that's about what Gordon expects at this point.

So why did he stop himself?

When Benrey marshals his voice into something more flat and toneless, Gordon frowns. He's... he's really trying, isn't he. Trying to do something decent without turning it into one of their fucked up little games. Some of the mental furniture rearranges itself in Gordon's head, pictures straightened and doorways unjammed.

Unfortunately, all the dusting and clearing in the world can't change the fact that the foundation in his head is wired to make him a paranoid little fucker. And Benrey's always playing some kind of 4th-dimensional chess with him, anyway, right? He's just being rational. Wary.

That said... he's already here. He might as well relax and deal with the consequences later. Especially when... oh.

Benrey's washing him in earnest, fingers pressing into him and manipulating him. They're all over him, probing him without direction, and now Gordon's not sure if "relaxed" is the best descriptor for himself. There's just, there's a lot of touching happening, and Benrey's hands are so, so big, and Gordon can just make out the tip of Benrey's tongue poking through his teeth and something about that intense focus - on him - makes Gordon's breathing go shallow.

Christ. He can't-- He shouldn't think about this. This is the kind of sick shit that only happens in his head, not in real life. Gordon's just a normal guy with something very wrong with him, and that "something" makes him more prone than most to awful little fantasies, intrusive thoughts.

That's all this is. There's gotta be something wrong with him to want somebody ten times his size to touch him like this, but in, like, a horny way. Like some kind of freakjob doing gross shit with an action figure. Maybe it doesn't make him a bad person. So long as he keeps it to himself. He'll keep all his weird little fantasies right next to his heart, and then he'll die. That's that.

It's almost over, Gordon tells himself furiously, willing his blood to stop rushing to his dick and his stomach to stop coiling with heat. If he can just focus, he can will his boner down before he has to get out of the pool and then Benrey will be none the wiser.

"Okay, first of all, I didn't fuck up the passport," Gordon blusters, in an attempt to power through it. "I never needed one before! If anything, I think you fucked up, man. Never told me about Black Mesa Picture Day or whatever."

> Benrey's fingers do not pause as Gordon fusses at him, but his eyes can't stay focused on his own work. He's too busy watching Gordon's throat bob as he swallows around a lump, or how his blush is darkening and spreading. He's gauging the look in his eyes, looking for any indication that he can go ahead and make it weird, but--even though he's sweating and nervous and fidgety and acting just like he does when they're playing--Benrey is too nervous to make a move.

> And "nervous" wasn't a part of his vocabulary until that Alyx lady and Gordon's own downhill slide made it obvious that he actually had to think human to interact with humans. His human specifically.

> So, even though he sees the signs, he decides to bite his tongue. It is foreign, it is uncomfortable, and it's almost painful to choke down. To redirect his alien brain into more terrestrial channels. To try to figure out what a human person would do in his situation and, barring that, just continuing to do what he was supposed to be doing in the first place.

> Bathing Gordon.

> "Shouldn't have to tell you. S'in the, ah, employee handbook. Welcome packet. Folder. Right next to Warhammer 401k and, uh, ensure-ants."

> He cups a small amount of water in his palm and trickles it over Gordon's body, watching it drain down his form in sparkling rivulets. They trace his contours, weaving into every nook and cranny and crease that Benrey couldn't reach, and he watches them with an intensity that even he can feel. A warmth in his gut, a twitch of his dick. His tongue laps at his lips like a hungry animal; he wants to lick every droplet off of Gordon and explore ever inch of him as thoroughly as the bathwater.

> But... no. No, no. He's normal. He's normal and human and he's being nice, and Gordon hasn't said anything so he's going to close his eyes, huff angrily, and then continue on his merry way.

> "Everyone knows about, uh, Hair Inspection Day. And Passport Inspection. You, ah, you're just... uh."

> Benrey breathes heavily out of his nose as his eyes lock on Gordon yet again. Staring up at him, red-faced. Hair now adhered to his skin from the water. Chest heaving. He reaches out in spite of himself and presses a fingertip to Gordon's torso once more, feeling that rapid pulse and feeling it rise and fall with each breath. Knowing he could make Gordon's heart race faster and really put his lungs to work.

> He wants to feel him pant, wants to hear each heavy breath accompanied with his name and...

> No. God, it's getting so fucking hard to resist the game, but Benrey is good! Good for his best friend! He's learned and he's going to stay good. He's just being nice. He can be nice without being--

> "Missed a spot," Benrey lies as he pulls his finger away. He pretends to rinse Gordon off once more and sputters a cough. "Now, let's get those, ah, locks. Clean and brushed. Shiny. Barbie Girl, Barbie World, am I right?"

Gordon ducks his head instinctively as Benrey douses him with water, shielding his face. There's a huff from above him, and then another, breath hot and heavy on Gordon's neck. The closest comparable experience is... it's like being trapped under some kind of big fucking animal. A bear, maybe, snorting at the nape of his neck before it decides to eat him. Violently.

Cool. He loves thoughts like that. A pleasant reminder that they don't exactly carry fucking risperidone in the aftermath of a fascist takeover.

He shakes his head again to rid himself of it, then looks at Benrey in surprise when he presses a fingertip to his chest. It just rests there, warm and steady. Not pulling or pinching or shoving or any of the things Gordon expects. Gears whir to life in his head. Benrey's being-- he's being kind of fucking weird, but not in the ways Gordon's grown accustomed to, and when he's spent the entirety of their working relationship trying to get his sea legs, it throws him off just as badly when the boat stops rocking.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but it's not just Barbies who have to wash their hair," Gordon snorts at him. "You got me all worried now, man, I don't even know if you know the basics. It's shampoo, then conditioner, okay?"

After a moment, he slicks his hair back out of his face, too. For good measure. "And try not to get it in my eyes, either... Actually, uh, I'm kind of having second thoughts about this. Maybe you should just let me handle it. No offense."

> "Know what I'm doin'. I got hair. Nice hair. Better than... uh, Mr. 2-in-1," Benrey protests, masking the sudden wave of panic that just roiled up inside of him. Just the idea of not touching Gordon is too much, and he inwardly crinkles at the thought of missing his chance to feel his human again. And again. And again. Petting and scrubbing and massaging and imagining what it would be like to get Gordon close enough to his face that he could taste him.

> But... he can't do that. He's not allowed. This isn't The Game. This is A Nice Favor for His Person and, well, he's got to be normal. And chill. And calm. And this is all really too fucking hard.

> However, as long as he plays by the rules, he still gets a chance to touch Gordon, and he supposes that is a small victory. It's what spurs him on to press his thighs together and shift his weight to hide his burgeoning boner behind the Xenian island so that Gordon can't be alarmed or scandalized or angry or accusatory. It's what prompts him to summon from the ether, yet again, a new supply of nice-smelling soaps and an equally pleasant conditioner that still don't match the color his brain tells him they should be.

> And, with fangs pressed into his bottom lip, he dips his finger into the shampoo freshly spawned in his palm and swirls it gently, watching as Gordon regards him with a mixture of curiosity and what he hopes isn't disdain. He's been working so hard to try to not make the guy angry, and he's struggling not to slip.

> Slowly, he drips a dollop of soap onto Gordon's head--towards the back, since he is honestly trying to obey the request not to blind him--followed by a few drops of glittering, warm water. He monitors the way Gordon's expression changes as he presses against his head as gently as he can and begins to work it into a lather.

> It's... nice. It's not the usual rough stuff and bullying he's used to, but there is something undeniably pleasant about watching Gordon melt into his touch as he works, careful and light, his body rocking with the movements in a way that makes Benrey feel both strangely aroused and, well... warm. As warm as the pool of water, all on the inside like a badly heated burrito. It's new, and uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, and he savors it by trying to make the moment stretch.

> From the scalp and downwards, until his finger is stroking the side of Gordon's cheek and reaching under his chin as if trying to tilt his head up for a kiss he was way too big to give. Like a true romantic that he knew, in his gut, he wasn't actually anywhere close to being. But it felt right, and the dazed and pleasant look in Gordon's eyes shatter the alien armor around his heart in one powerful blow.

> Benrey swallows hard and says nothing. He just scrubs and stares. And scrubs. And stares.

> Slow, precise, delicate circles. Enjoying the moment, and buying time as he tries to untangle this utterly alien knot of feelings that is twisting around in his gut. Feelings he isn't sure he understands or particularly wants, but addictive all the same.

"Oh, that's kinda nice, actually," Gordon mumbles distantly, as Benrey starts to lather up his hair.

It's impressive, honestly, just how delicate Benrey's capable of being when he puts his mind to it. The pressure's firm enough that it feels good against his scalp, but he's not being knocked around or given a headache or anything. It's... pleasant. His eyes drift shut again, now that he's pretty sure Benrey's got the hang of it.

That finger slips lower, lower, stroking the side of Gordon's jaw, and Gordon leans into it. Lets him work soap into the underside of his facial hair. (And that's nice, too. It's the kind of thing he figured Benrey would miss.) And if Benrey rubs a bit slower, tilts his head up just a little so that Gordon has to peer up at him through slowly-blinking eyes, well, he's not going to complain.

Benrey's eyes are so big, so close to his and so intently focused that-- that he's sweating a little, just visible at the edge of Gordon's vision. Gordon's heart beats faster, and a strange tension begins to wind itself tight in him. It's like Benrey's trying to scan him. All that attention focused directly on him gins up butterflies in his stomach.

Gordon's suddenly hit by the awareness that nobody's done anything like this for him in a long, long time. Maybe ever. And here he is, letting his frenemy (best frenemy, whispers an annoying little voice that sounds suspiciously like Benrey) scrub him clean. Take care of him. How in the fuck did he end up here? And, more importantly, why is he so comfortable with this? This is the guy who got his arm cut off, not, fucking, not his live-in girlfriend. That broke up with him a couple years ago, citing the fact that he was "a puffed-up MIT asshole". Whatever. Details.

After a long stretch of silence, Gordon breaks it by saying, "I, uh, I think that's good. Yeah. Lemme just..."

And he pushes Benrey's finger away before ducking his head under the water, hoping Benrey doesn't notice the way his voice cracks.

> It... almost feels like he's being spurned when his finger is pushed away. There's a quaver in Gordon's voice and he isn't sure if it's nerves or rejection. In an instant, a long-dormant part of Benrey's brain flares to life, leaving him mentally bouncing theories as to why his person had sounded so off. It could have been that he was having the same sorts of thoughts Benrey had been having the whole time, or it could have been that he had done something wrong. Getting advice on how to handle Gordon came with the unpredictable side effect of giving him a lot to worry about in terms of "boundaries" and "behaving," which he honestly wasn't comfortable or keen on dealing with.

> These insecurities melt away as he watches Gordon duck under the water, however. It creates a hiccup in the system, a blue screen that necessitates a reboot. There's something distracting about the way his back arches forward, muscles moving, head dipping beneath the surface. On his knees, ass lifting up slightly so he has a touch more leverage. Hair floating to the top, and then clinging tightly to his skin as he emerges with a gasp and throws his head back and slicks it out of his face and...

> ... His face is dripping. Sopping. Water trailing from his mouth and down his beard. Running down his temples, his cheeks. Like sweat. Like... something else.

> "Holy shit," Benrey mutters with the barest hint of voice. He pauses, he tries to think of something to say that would mask the fact he's not being "normal," and he's been playing The Game the whole time, regardless of what he's been telling himself. The hamster is running, the gears are whirring, but Windows is still updating and he's at a loss for anything better to say.

> So he doubles down. His voice grows louder.

> "Holy shit."

Gordon winches his eyes shut as he wipes water from them, slinging his hair back out of his face for good measure. God, he can feel how much less greasy it is now, and it's like taking off an itchy sweater for the first time. Makes him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, man, that's honestly really... uh..."

He slows to a stop, thrown off by Benrey muttering something. Almost inaudible. It gets him to crane his neck to look up at Benrey properly, about to ask, before Benrey says it again. Louder. Okay, yeah, he did catch that right the first time, huh.

Even though he's out of focus, Gordon can still see how wide his eyes are. How slack his face is. He doesn't need the finer details to notice Benrey's hand hovering in midair, like he's been interrupted in the middle of a thought. Staring at him like... like...

Heat crashes over Gordon in a violent wave, from the crown of his head to the pit of his belly. He's not even-- he's not even doing anything. He's sopping wet, and he can't fucking stand the way his hair looks when it's laying flat and slick against his head like this, and he can't exactly hide all the unseemly scars and and stretch marks and soft spots and all the other issues he's poked at in the mirror time and time again. (He had a growth spurt as a teenager, okay, and stretching him out an extra foot and a half so quickly didn't give his skin a lot of time to adapt.)

In short, he feels more naked and exposed now, half-covered by the foamy surface of this shallow pool, than he did when Benrey had him in his palm with his entire dick out. And it makes Gordon fucking throb under the surface of the water.

He's gotta be making fun of me, Gordon desperately tells himself. Defense mechanism. It's not working as well as it usually does, and he subconsciously presses his thighs tighter together.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, suddenly dry despite the water carding down his face.

"What," starts Gordon. But he doesn't know where to take that question, and it dies as quick as it came.

> Game over. It's done. Benrey's used his final life and lost it in a valiant attempt to beat the final boss, but now he's gawking down at Gordon who is gawking right back up at him with a tell-tale look on his face that makes Benrey almost positive that he's playing just as hard. His own breath quickens as once complicated thoughts congeal into something more comfortable, something more streamlined, something more natural.

> Something that Alyx would have been disappointed to hear, especially after how good he had been doing.

> He inhales sharply through his nose and leans in close, the air coming back out at a low laugh as his mouth twists into a hungry grin. A finger extends and he presses it against the side of Gordon's face, an almost loving stroke. He can feel a burst of heat in his cheeks and he knows, glasses or not, that Gordon can probably see how red he's getting. He shifts his legs as he floats beside the island, trying to accommodate a cock that is now frighteningly hard and twitching against his stomach.

> "What 'what?'" Benrey asks, his voice monotonous but still somehow teasing. "Can't a bro, uh, admire his bro? Have a look-see? Look nice. Pretty."

> His finger drops to the water and stirs it a bit, creating a roil of bubbles that send a pleasant, tingling sensation up his hand, his arm. It seems to travel straight to his heart, which is pounding furiously in his chest.

> "You, uh... you good? Need anymore help? Getting clean? Hard to reach places?"

> A pause. He feels his stomach twist into knots. This has never really happened before while playing this game, but it's powerful. Makes him feel desperate. Needy. Makes him feel guilty and he hates it because he never feels guilty.

> As quickly as the mask breaks, he picks up the pieces and puts them back together. He slides it back on. He takes a deep breath, fumbling with his words.

> "Want to, uh... pla... pretty? Want to pretty? Want best friend Benrey to make you, uh, cleaner? Prettier? Help you? Please? Thank-you."

Two paths emerge before Gordon. On the one, well-worn and well-lit, he would tell Benrey, "No thanks, I'm good," and he would tell Benrey to turn around so he can dry off and crawl back into the jumpsuit. And then he would let Benrey fit him in the armor again, trying his best to ignore those fingers on his skin, and later he would duck away and jerk himself raw thinking about it. Swearing at himself. Wishing he could be normal for once in his fucking life and not develop questionable new fantasies about the one guy who's as out of place in this world as he is.

On the other, bracketed by brambles and dark, uncharted woods, Gordon would... He would...

He'd get it through his head that he's not the only little fucking weirdo in this relationship. That Benrey keeps staring at him like that for a reason.

And that Benrey's trying so fucking hard to play nice because... well... Gordon hasn't wrapped his head around that one yet, but he has his suspicions. Some of them more worrying than others. But the point is, Benrey's not taking the bait. He's got Gordon in a highly vulnerable position, and he could be pushing Gordon around if he wanted, playing their little game and driving him up the wall.

But he isn't. He keeps choking it back. It's unsettling. Gordon doesn't know how to handle it. He kind of wishes, in the back of his mind, that Benrey would tack on his 'schoolyard bully' demeanor again. At least that Gordon understands on some level. Push, pull, tussle.

And most unsettling of all is that downright tender way that Benrey drags a finger along his cheek. Anxiety thrums to life in Gordon's blood. No, no, that's not-- This is weird. This is so weird. There's something roiling and ugly churning in his stomach, and he doesn't like it one bit. He's not coping with it, he needs to-- to wrangle this situation, get some control over it, steer it back to familiar territory.

And in doing so, Gordon floors it directly into the woods.

He looks back at Benrey, taking in the hot flush crawling up his skin. The awkward shifting. I'm not the only freak here, Gordon reminds himself, blood pounding in his ears.

So he shifts himself. Sits back, draws his legs up so that his knees peek out of the water. Lets them fall to the sides, just a little. And he says, tucking a strand of wet hair behind his ear,

"What, and you're not even gonna-- That's some low-hanging fruit you're leaving on the vine. Startin' to get worried about you, man. You haven't gone this long without making fun of me in... uh, ever."

> Wait. Was that...?

> Was that admission?

> Benrey's pupils grow wide at the words, and his smile threatens to falter as he feels the cogs creaking inside of his head. Connecting the dots with all the newfound information he has on human people is like doing the advanced science stuff Gordon seemed to believe he was so special for knowing. There's emotional equations, rechecking the data, counter-arguments for every theory he comes up with, but in the end a little lightbulb flickers to life. The lights are on, somebody is home, and by god does that somebody want to play ball already.

> Benrey's finger stills on Gordon's cheek and he feels an uncharacteristic lump grow in his throat as his face grows redder and sweat beads at his brow. That weird emotion that once wrapped itself around its siblings, Worry and Guilt, finally cut itself loose and tangles itself in his stomach. He doesn't like it--it's too warm, and it's not the horny kind of heat that he's used to--but he allows it to stay. It feels like it may turn into something good if he just lets it incubate.

> "Uh, what? Not gonna... huh?"

> Benrey's voice cracks just like Gordon's had a moment before. He pretends it never happened and seamlessly continues.

> "Not gonna, ah, make fun of you. Gonna... gonna pick that fruit, though."

> His finger trails down Gordon's chin, down his neck, across his shoulders, down his chest. It rests dangerously low on his belly, threatening to dip lower. He grins at Gordon, leans in close, and huffs a laugh that's less malicious than it is honestly amused with its own cleverness.

> "Uh, get it? Fruit? Picked? You're, ah, you're the fruit, bro."

> A pause.

> "Laugh, please."

Gordon swallows, hard. The implications hit him like a bowling ball. That somebody's dropping on him. Maybe from an overpass or something. He's spinning out a little, alright, and losing his grip on the metaphor.

Benrey's fingertip leaves goosebumps in its wake, and his breathing goes shallow as the nail lightly catches on the crook of his neck. Lower, lower, slipping just below the surface of the water to rest on his belly, and Gordon thanks every deity he can imagine (and some he can't) that the bubbles hide... well. This, feeling it throb where it lies heavy against his hip.

Despite himself, he does actually laugh when Benrey prompts it. It comes out high and way louder than he intended, but still. Now that's a metaphor he's got a good grasp on, he thinks wildly. Oh, Christ.

"That's-- that's not really what I meant," Gordon tries to argue, but not with very much conviction. "But, uh, ha ha! Great joke! Fucking love jokes, man!"

> Benrey doesn't really hear what Gordon is saying. He does know that tone, though, from times they've played The Game before. It's a tone that speaks of permission, a sort of polite denial without the force. The kind of arguing that Benrey knows he can get away with ignoring because it's not sincere. Game talk. A challenge.

> Their own secret language of want.

> "Thank-you," Benrey purrs when Gordon forces a laugh, and his finger rubs a slow, slow circle into Gordon's stomach. He's sure Gordon notices when it bumps a bit too low, because he can feel something tell-tale just beneath the surface of the water. His grin grows at the realization that he was on the right track, tongue slipping out from between his teeth and running along his lips. A show, given to Gordon.

> A show he desperately wants Gordon to notice is meant for him. A tech demo. A promise.

> "But, uh... if that ain't what you meant. What did you mean? 'Cause you seem to be enjoyin' this, best friend."

A noise threatens to burst from Gordon's chest when Benrey starts to rub, slow and insistent, and grazes against-- Oh, God. But he clamps his lips tight, and all that escapes him is a harsh puff of air through his nose. He knows now, he knows, and it's written all over his face, a raised eyebrow and a smug smile and the slow, deliberate movement of his tongue over his lower lip.

It's fucking cartoonish, is what it is. Gordon should laugh. Gordon does laugh, again, another nervous little titter that doesn't communicate "amusement" so much as "flustered hysteria".

"I don't know," he blurts out, and it's the most honest thing he's said all day. "Fucking, God, I'm not-- This isn't what it looks like, okay, you just-- you keep looking at me like that, and I don't know what your fucking game is, man!"

He can't look at Benrey, not right now, not when he knows Benrey's looking at him like that, and so he looks down and oh, no, that's a bad idea. Because Benrey's still drawing tight little circles into his skin, unnervingly gentle. And so Gordon's eyes keep darting around, finding nowhere suitable to land.

At least Benrey's taking the bait. He's not doing that weird sappy shit anymore, and Gordon's in more familiar territory: the push and pull. The teasing. So he pulls harder, in hopes that Benrey will knock it off for good.

"If anybody's 'enjoying this', it's you, buddy! I'm just a, uh, innocent bystander, you know?"

> He doesn't sound convincing. There's fractures in his voice, and his words are stumbling like they fell down the stairs. He's looking everywhere but at Benrey, his face red and his eyes nervously darting from thing to thing to thing. But, in the end, they always come back to him, in one way or another.

> It's tells like this that let Benrey know that he's playing. The Game is afoot, he's been given the go-ahead. It's time to take the ball and run.

> "Uh-huh. Sure. Innocent. Lessee what you're hidin', bro."

> And with that, Benrey removes his finger from Gordon's stomach, instead parting his fingers into a V-shape and hooking Gordon underneath his arms. It's like a claw in a skill crane and, with a snort, he lifts Gordon out of the water. Naked, wet, and standing at attention from the looks of it; his human apparently had been playing along a lot longer than Benrey knew. He watches Gordon dangling a few feet from the pool at the end of his hand and smirks.

> But there's something different now, isn't there? Something Benrey sees in his human that makes that weird feeling he's been fighting twirl and twist. He's barely even noticing Gordon's boner more than he's looking at the way his hair is clinging to his face, and the way his eyes are flicking up at him expectantly, and how warm and small and cute he looks. He looks delicate and handsome and he wants to touch him, but he wants to touch all of him, and his heart is thumping so hard he starts to worry because... fuck. Is he dying? Is Gordon killing him just by being cute?

> Benrey swallows hard. He hopes his expression didn't falter. He broadens his grin in case it did, until the muscles in his cheeks honestly hurt. And he inhales deeply and forces a mocking laugh and squeezes his fingers around Gordon gently in an attempt to further mock him.

> "I 'unno, bro. Looks like you're, uh... you're carrying without a permit. That's... uh, an infract... fracta... infection. You're a bad boy, aren't'cha?"

Gordon yelps as those fingers hook under his arms and drag him out of the water. Oh, God, his legs are kicking out from underneath him, and his hands scrabble at Benrey's, and Benrey's just smirking at him all up close and personal and he's fucked, he's really, really fucked. His fucking dick bobs in the air like-- like-- he doesn't know, he doesn't have a simile for this! Gordon's never been in this situation before! But bob it does, until he comes to a stop right in front of Benrey's face.

"It's infraction, dude!" Gordon snaps, his mind jumping to the least important thing Benrey said. "Fucking 'infraction'! And I don't-- I don't know what you expect when you're all, fucking--"

He's cut off by a gasp when Benrey squeezes him, just a little. Makes Gordon keenly aware of those big fingers. He can just... he can do whatever he fucking wants, huh? Pick Gordon up like it's nothing? Wrap those fingers around him, so big and hot and rough against his skin, and move all his limbs around just like he was doing earlier and--

And--

Gordon blinks, coming back to himself. Face hot. Mouth dry. And Benrey's grin looks impossibly wider.

"You know," he finishes weakly.

> "Maybe I do," Benrey responds, jostling Gordon lightly. "Maybe I don't. Maybe you should tell me, bro. When I'm all fuckin' what?"

> He lifts Gordon higher, and closer. Really gets a good look at him, leaning in and running his tongue along his jagged teeth. Like a predator, like something that wants to swallow Gordon whole, though that's the last thing on his mind. He wants to taste Gordon, that's for sure, but there's... there's more to it.

> He wants to reel him in. Follow this weird feeling. Press his lips against Gordon and--

> Benrey inhales sharply through his nose. Gordon smells positively delicious. Like something fruity and sweet and earthly. And he looks delicious, too, all soft and supple and soaked to the bone, smooth skin glistening in the alien lights.

> His dick twitches, straining against his pants. He's so hard it hurts. He wonders if Gordon can see, but can't imagine he can miss it.

> "C'mon," he teases, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Tell me what I am, bro. Tell best friend Benrey what's on your mind. Bonding experience. Bros being bros."

He wrenches his eyes shut, breath coming harder and faster despite his efforts to control it. When Benrey fucking talks like that, he can't help it, okay? All-- all smug and condescending and all the shit that should get under his skin-- and does, yeah, it drives him up the wall, but. But. There must be something wrong with him, Gordon thinks desperately. Something warped in the fabric of his mind that makes a shiver race down his spine.

Then he feels warm breath puffing against his face, and he opens his eyes again. Just in time to see a broad tongue run across sharp, sharp teeth. A naked suggestion. Gordon's mouth falls open a little and hangs there, stunned speechless.

Until Benrey mutters, c'mooon, voice low and heated in a way that goes straight to Gordon's belly. And his dick twitches in the open air, fully visible this time. Fuck.

"You're," he starts, staring at his own fingertips, where they're digging into Benrey's hand.

God, this is humiliating! And he should, he should tell Benrey to fuck off and put him down, but he doesn't. That same warp in his fabric goes all the way down to his autonomic nervous system. Heart racing, blood pumping, pupils dilating and sweat beading and every other unconscious reaction he can't wrangle into submission.

Because he wants to be wrangled into submission.

Okay, Christ! He gets it! He doesn't need the color commentary from his own fucking brain!

Gordon takes a deep breath to steel himself, and then he starts again, choked and hesitant, "When you're... God, fucking, touching me and breathing on me and shit, man! Like you'd be doing any better if you had somebody's big fucking hands all over you! Okay?"

As soon as the words leave him, a fresh wave of embarrassment crests and crashes over him. Stupid, stupid, he shouldn't have said it.

> Oh. Well. That was new. Usually, there's a bit more arguing, a bit more resistance, a bit more of Benrey getting called things like "weirdo" and "freak" before they have a good "haha" about it and touch dicks. But Gordon is being so earnest and honest and talking about how he's touching him, about big hands, about doing this same thing to Benrey (sort of talking about it, anyway), and...

> ... And Benrey feels... wanted? Was that the word? Wanted?

> Yeah. He feels wanted.

> And that foreign, alien, hot-cold emotion twisting inside of him balloons and explodes, and there is a sudden, pulse-pounding sensation of want and warmth that courses through his body like a poison. He can feel drool pooling under his tongue and he swallows hard, his smile fading into something more earnest as he tries to maintain a mocking, bullying stare. Tries to keep his head in the game.

> Their game.

> "Oh. You, uh. You like it when I breathe on you? Fuckin'... secret alien power. Uh, blow dryer." He pauses and chuckles. "Heh. Blow."

> He inches Gordon closer to his face, and the closer he brings him, the more he can feel the little bit of warmth radiating off of him. Welcoming him. Blazing hot, like he is on the inside, and flushed so red he looked burned. And that warm, weird, unwelcome emotion surges again as he lets out a sigh and sits Gordon in his palm, plopping him down unceremoniously like a captured bug.

> Only he's not watching him with a childlike curiosity. He's really examining him, trying to wiggle the wrench out of the gears in his brain. With some effort, he pops it loose, and the words pour out of his mouth without any restraint.

> "Bet'cha you'd like it if I, uh... dried you off. Gentle breeze. Pick a scent. Have eight exciting flavors. Blue. Watermelon. Other blue. Tropical, uh, kiss."

> Even he isn't sure why he stressed that last word. The weird emotion spoke for him.

> His mouth snaps shut.

> Awkward.

Whatever Gordon was expecting, it wasn't "being dropped buck-naked onto Benrey's palm". His legs splay out in front of him, and he instinctively tries to draw his knees up. Doesn't change the fact that he's got his boner out in front of God and everybody.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Despite himself, he bursts out laughing. He does his best to choke it back down. "You really, uh, gotta work on your dirty talk, man."

Gordon doesn't manage to catch himself before he all but admits that, yeah, that was dirty talk. This is a situation where Benrey should be trying to talk dirty to him. It's breaking the rules a little. Breaking kayfabe. But it's hard to resist bringing it up when Benrey's trying to get him hot by talking about blowing on him like a spoonful of soup.

Then he actually thinks about what Benrey said. Tropical kiss. That's not-- that's not anything. That's not real. Benrey's just talking about kissing him, in whatever weird fucking roundabout way he usually does. A small part of him softens. It's... almost cute. If he were inclined to ever describe Benrey that way. Which he isn't.

But Gordon plays along anyway. "What are you talking about? Scents? Dude, I smelled your breath earlier, and lemme tell you, it wasn't any kind of fucking tropical kiss."

> "Uh, no. S'one of the other flavors," Benrey responds indignantly, façade breaking for a moment. "That flavor was, uh... Glade Plug-in."

> As he speaks, he reels Gordon in closer, sitting in his palm and still sopping wet. He looks so small, so delicate, so... cute, and the thought makes his heart flutter again. It grabs his tongue and twists it into an awkward knot that takes a moment to untie. He works fast, hoping to save face. Get back in the game.

> But it's hard. Harder than before, and as Gordon stares at him expectantly, he's suddenly floundering. While he is externally stiff, flat, and monotonous, on the inside he is scrambling to pick up his scattered index cards during a speech. He wants to play, but he wants to taste. He wants to stroke Gordon's head as much as his dick and he doesn't know why. He wants to say something naughty and nice all at the same time and...

> "Lemme, uh. Demo. Demon-stray-shun," Benrey says, interrupting his own thoughts. "Tropical kiss. Free sample. Here we go."

> And with that, he brings Gordon to his mouth. He presses the smaller man into his lips, a small and chaste kiss being planted in the first place he can reach: Gordon's throat. Only it's... not just his throat. It's basically his whole shoulder, and throat, and beneath his jaw. He practically envelops him, could literally swallow him if he wanted to, but pulls away and snorts a laugh as though this spontaneous act was premeditated as a joke.

> He sounds unconvincing.

> Even more so when he chuckles, "See? Coconut. Sea breeze. Lime. Seagulls. All the classic smells."

Lips press against Gordon's skin before he's fully prepared for it, and he lets out a surprised little sound. Jaw and throat alike find themselves enveloped, a heat and softness and moisture the likes of which he's never felt quite like this. And then it's over. Gordon's still left dizzily processing this as Benrey draws back.

"Did you just kiss me?" Gordon asks, stupidly. He touches a hand to his jaw, where there's a hint of moisture lingering.

The longer Gordon thinks about it, the more disoriented he becomes. Benrey's never kissed him like that before. All, fucking, sweet and tender. Those aren't words in his vocab. Like, yeah, sure, they've kissed before, but only in frantic, snarling bursts. This is strange and new.

But... at the same time... that's not all it is, is it. At this scale, chasteness is impossible. Gordon's so small in his hand, wet and splayed like some kind of foal, and those hands could wrap around every inch of him at once just to touch him. Lips, kissing wide swathes of skin. Hot breaths of air forced through Benrey's nose and spurring the hairs on the back of Gordon's neck to stand up. The unpleasant realization that Benrey is very, very big, and could probably just swallow Gordon whole if he so chose. You know. Normal things to worry about.

But he doesn't. He just lets Gordon go with a kiss. And Gordon flushes up to his ears, still a little dumbstruck.

> That was... new. That wasn't like the lust-fueled, rushed kisses he'd given Gordon while trying to get fingers around his cock, but it wasn't bad. It was something that scratched an itch he didn't know he had, something that made his lips tingle, something that milked an incredibly good feeling out of that foreign emotion swirling inside of him. It's intoxicating in a way human substances never could quite pull off, and Benrey feels an addiction already forming.

> It takes him a moment to realize that Gordon has spoken. It's just a tiny sound to his colossal ears, one he nearly misses from the full-body throb of lust and affection. It's not just his dick anymore. His heart is thundering against every bone, every inch of skin, and he feels almost overwhelmed. Again, like he's dying. This is new, it's intense.

> He wets his lips and furrows his brow, and with a surprising amount of clarity, rattles, "Yeah... uh. I guess I did, huh?"

> His tongue continues to run over his lips. His teeth. His eyes dart to Gordon. He's struggling to play the game properly, but there's a sudden bout of nerves involved. He can't help but wonder if this is how Gordon feels all the time, and the realization clonks him like a clawhammer.

> If this is how Gordon feels all the time, then no wonder he's always such a mess. It's latching onto his jaw and holding it shut like an invisible muzzle, it's pumping him full of drugs that don't exist, it's making him feel small despite being absolutely batshit levels of huge. And, it feels like he's learning... god, what had Alyx called it? Empathy? He's not sure how much he likes it, but it mingles well with the now-welcome warmth following the kiss in a way that feels positively, cathartically self-destructive.

> Benrey coughs. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't tease. He looks to Gordon with an intensity even he's surprised he can pull off.

> "You, uh. Like it? Wan' another one? I got, uh, plenty. Warehouses full. Best Friend Special. BOGO."

Gordon watches Benrey's tongue slide over his teeth like it's in slow motion, a reminder of what lies just underneath the surface. And he freezes under the intensity of Benrey's stare, anticipatory sweat beading on his forehead.

"What, you mean you want to..." He trails off with a nervous laugh. "C'mon, man, put me down! I know you get a kick out of, fucking, making fun of me or whatever, but I don't know what you're getting out of this!"

> Unfortunately, Benrey knows exactly what he was getting out of this. A feeling, strong and tingly that's now full of a primal need that he understands quite a bit better. And, beyond that, he was getting permission. Full permission in every movement Gordon made, every lilt of his voice, every glance up at him that was filled with a hunger that his human never got quite got the hang of voicing. It's a look that Benrey knows good and well, though, from the other time they've played their little games.

> He says nothing. He just smiles, moves Gordon to his mouth again, and pushes his lips gently against his collar bone, though it stretches down to his chest. He can feel Gordon's nipple brush against the corner of his lip, hair brushing against his mouth, the taste of the strange, glittering water and skin as he parts his lips and rumbles a laugh into Gordon.

> He pulls away. He maneuvers his human. He presses his mouth against him again, brushing his stomach with a feather-light kiss that nearly encompasses his dick. He can feel it pressing against him, feel it twitch as he pokes a tongue out between his teeth and presses the very tip into his soft flesh.

> His eyes angle up to Gordon's in a silent bid for a sign. The lick intensifies, nimbly avoiding the cock poking at the very corner of his mouth.

> He continues to say nothing. He has a feeling he doesn't have to. Gordon isn't the only one who can get away with communicating silent intent in their back-and-forth.

Of course Benrey's not gonna answer him. Of course Benrey's just gonna grin at him - like an asshole - and kiss him again, lips soft against his chest. Right over his heart. It's cartoonish, is what it is. And, unfortunately, it's also more ticklish than Gordon expects, and he snorts aloud.

"What are you doing? You're being weird, dude."

When Benrey laughs back at him, his huffed breath ruffles Gordon's body hair, and it just makes that whole "sensitivity" problem worse. Gordon tries to choke down a giggle and fails. Despite himself, it's... it's nice. He almost feels light-headed.

And then Benrey's doing it again, a soft kiss against his middle, shifting him bodily into position, and Gordon laughs again, shoving at his face. Playful. Roughhousing. Their usual.

And again. "That-- That tickles, man, c'mon!"

And again, hot against his belly. Mouth parted. Benrey's chin grazes his dick, which he'd all but forgotten about in his reflexive urge to kick Benrey away. A peal of laughter bleeds into a gasp. All the worse when Gordon feels the wet-hot tip of a tongue push into his skin.

Oh God. It feels just like he thought it would. In that dream, that fucking dream, the one he can't get out of his mind. The one that's made Gordon look twice every time Benrey grins at him, teeth sharp and glossy. He freezes, afraid even to breathe too heavily and press himself all the more against Benrey's tongue.

"What are you doing," he asks again, this time less of a playful rebuff and more of a high squeak. Then it's hotter, wetter, more of the broad side of Benrey's tongue flattening against him, and his dick twitches, hard.

Fuck.

> Alyx would be disappointed, Benrey thinks. He was doing so good and playing so nice, and now he's licking a hot, wet stripe across Gordon's belly, feeling the hairs and skin against his tongue, teeth barely grazing against sensitive flesh. But, he knows things she doesn't and will never know, about the game and the language that he and Gordon have built. He squeaks in defiance, but with a tone that shows only polite refusal: Oh, I couldn't possibly, but if you insist.

> Gordon isn't pressing against his face. He isn't pushing him away. He isn't snarling and cursing, and he hasn't made any move to extricate himself. He's parting his legs invitingly, his voice is getting higher in want and anticipation, and his dick is so hard. As hard as Benrey's, to be honest, and twitching almost as if its beckoning.

> "What'm I doing?" Benrey purrs, and he can see Gordon's body tremble at the way it rumbles through him. "M'helpin'. S'what best friends do."

> With that, his jaw opens wide, his tongue slithering out and the tip dipping lower. Low enough to catch his cock, his legs, the entire bottom of his stomach. It presses hard against Gordon and then creeps upward before coiling up politely behind Benrey's jagged smile. Drool pools at the corner of his lips and he swipes it away with his spare hand.

> He opens his mouth and dives back in again, the faintest hint of flesh and salt and soap and glittering, sweet Xen water dancing across his tongue. It fills him with another burst of primal want, though it's watching the flush on Gordon grow deeper that satiates that other, newer beast nesting inside of him.

Hot, wet, sinuous, pressing against his belly like a snake, making him gasp and jerk instinctively - Gordon's head spins on contact. And Benrey's eyes keep flicking up to meet his, like he's gauging Gordon's reaction. Looking for the go-ahead. Like-- Like they haven't been playing this fucking game for hours, glorified foreplay, you know, like he hadn't let Benrey practically feel him up behind the bleachers while he was (is) stripped down to nothing.

When Gordon's legs jerk open, though, he doesn't snap them closed again. He lets them fall open, leaving room for Benrey's face. If he wanted. To put his face anywhere around there. It's embarrassing as soon as the thought hits his conscious mind, and Gordon burns a bright red down to his shoulders.

"I-I don't know if this is what every 'best friend' is supposed to d-- oh-- oh God, Benrey--"

His voice pitches up, raw and hoarse, as Benrey's tongue flattens itself against his thighs and dick. No more games. Just what this was always building up to, this whole time, if Gordon had just paid a little more attention, pushed his glasses back up on his nose and seen the hunger in Benrey's eyes. And the full knowledge of it cracks over his skull like an egg.

His chest heaves desperately to catch his breath, but it's so much, he can't--

He can't--

Benrey's going back for more, licking him in slow, deliberate strokes and chuffing like a big cat against him, and Gordon can't fucking think. His hands clench at Benrey's, then, finding that inadequate, at his own face. His hair.

"Benrey," he chokes out again. "You're gonna-- oh-- you just gave me a bath and you're gonna get me all fuckin' nasty again, man!"

It comes out as a whine that belies just how fucking stupid he sounds.

> "I'll, uh, just bathe you again. No biggie."

> Benrey's voice is low, dismissive. There is a dark and teasing chuckle hidden just under the surface, as much of a predator as the rest of him. Waiting for a moment to strike, to snag his prey and drag it beneath the surface. But not now, not now.

> Benrey likes to play with his food.

> His alien tongue is strangely dexterous, encircling Gordon's thighs and tracing wet lines into the crease where they met his body. Faint trails of Sweet Voice-tainted saliva leave visible marks of where he's been, allowing Gordon to ogle at exactly when Benrey is doing to him even after he's moved on. Even after he's moved from one leg to the other, to his belly, to his cock.

> His own aches as he flattens his tongue against his dick and licks upwards, like an animal lapping water. His tongue curls delicately and folds back into his mouth, scraping against pointed teeth before emerging again. Hungry, tasting, teasing and growing faster, more deliberate. The taste of Gordon swirl in his mouth and he feels a heat building in his belly so hot and dangerous that it almost makes him feel ill.

> And it intensifies with every squeak Gordon makes, every pant that falls out of his mouth. It drives him onward, a leopard on the prowl, gradually cornering its next meal. His own breath is becoming ragged, his mind a messy whorl of emotions and thoughts that make time seem as though it hardly matters. He's long forgotten how long he's been teasing, eyes nearly crossed to focus on Gordon. Benrey has long been lost in the sounds he makes, the way he writhes.

> It's almost like divine inspiration when it strikes him that he should maybe push him a bit harder.

> Delicately, and uncharacteristically slow, he rolls his tongue back into his mouth. He parts his lips and fits them around Gordon's length. He can't suck, not at this size, but he hums in satisfaction, the vibrations pulsing straight from him and into his human.

> If he wasn't so afraid of doing damage, he'd have smiled.

"We don't have time to--" Gordon breaks off in a moan, that compulsive need to worry stopped in its tracks by Benrey's tongue.

He shivers from his neck down to his toes when it worms around his thighs, digging into those sensitive creases in his skin. Something like a laugh bubbles out of him, but it's also something like a whimper, with a hint of a plea.

"You can't," he gasps, fighting for breath, "you can't do this to me, man, you don't even-- ah! Fuck! Don't even know!"

Gordon turns his face to the side and buries a noise into Benrey's hand. Makes it easier to cope when Benrey licks up to his chest and swirls his tongue, his own breath loud and hot around it. Tasting everywhere he can get to.  Benrey just keeps going, salivating and groaning for the sheer thrill of it, and it makes heat pulse off Gordon's skin in waves.

Faster, harder, enveloping him in ways he had only dreamed possible, something only he can do - Benrey - just for him, he doesn't do this shit with anyone else, how could he. Gordon squirms and gasps in his grip, legs straining to arch into that wet heat.

Agony creeps into his voice, low and haggard. "Benrey," he whines, "how are you so fucking... good at this, why are you even--"

He doesn't get to finish that thought before Benrey's lips wrap around him, and he hums, smug as a cat that's gotten the cream, and Gordon cries out so hard that some winged thing bursts out from a nearby outcropping. How is-- Why is he-- what does he even get out of this, he thinks wildly, brain desperately clinging to neuroticism even in the face of sexual obliteration.

> Every time Gordon shifts his weight, whines, looks away, says a word, Benrey feels that warm, weird emotion surge through him in a way that defies explanation. A feeling he thinks he can now identify, but is hesitant to verbalize, lest he somehow break the rules. But, it's so much stronger than before, especially after everything they'd been through, especially with the way Gordon is finally saying what he really means. Instead of snapping that he's being weird, he's whimpering praise and the words hang crookedly in his head like paintings in a forgotten room.

> "Benrey, how are you so fucking... good at this?"

> The boner he'd been ignoring for what seemed like millennia is now aching, and he pushes his hips against the side of the island and grinds upwards in hopes of finding something resembling relief. Unsurprisingly, what he finds is a crotch full of rocks, and he winces even as he continues to lavish Gordon with attention, breath hot out of his nose as he continues to hum and mouth at his dick. As he unfurls his tongue once more and presses it against his entire body and pushes Gordon against the palm of his hand, something akin to a wet hug. As the tip once again finds Gordon's cock and greedily laps at it, mesmerized by how prominent it is compared to the rest of his soft body.

> There is no give. Just hardness, sinking into the sensitive muscle.

> As he continues on--gently sucking on entire hands, tracing circles into the wet skin of his stomach, tasting the inside of his thighs while grazing his junk with the side of his tongue--he grunts. He feels his hips rocking just out of Gordon's sight. He clenches his free hand when its not in use pulling Gordon's legs apart for easier access or fiddling with his arm to get access to his fingers.

> It's instinctual, and impossible to ignore. He aches, and he knows Gordon can see he's losing himself to this as much as his prey.

> He waits to see if Gordon will have anything to say about it.

Gordon grabs desperately at Benrey's face, a nasal noise forced out of him on every exhale. It's more than a blowjob, it's, it's Benrey humming through his entire fucking body, okay? He can feel it down to his bones, and the inside of Benrey's mouth is achingly warm and so, so wet, and Benrey just keeps mouthing at him, tongue unfurling behind his teeth to lap up Gordon's length in a hot stripe.

It's... it's good. It's so good. Gordon closes his eyes tight and moans aloud.

Benrey moans, too, as his lips part from Gordon's dick to envelop his fingers instead. He pants through his nose and shuffles awkwardly, and the uncomfortable motion gets Gordon to open his eyes again. And he really looks, this time.

Oh.

He's hard.

Benrey's hard, and he's rocking his hips forward into the barren earth. And he's got his hands on Gordon instead of himself. Thumbing his chest and spreading him open. The burden of that knowledge makes Gordon pant like a dog.

"Oh my God," he warbles, voice cracking as Benrey draws patterns into his stomach with his tongue, "are you-- are you not gonna--"

Gordon slaps his hands over his mouth, suddenly regretting his words. No, he's not going to ask if Benrey's gonna touch his own dick, Jesus Christ. That's none of his business. What does he even care, anyway. It's not like he wants to see it. Not like he's curious about how big it would look once Benrey whipped it out. Gordon's aware of the general, you know, size and girth, proportionally, but it looks so much bigger down there, even in the confines of his work pants. It's not really fair.

And then Benrey grunts against him and flicks the tip of his tongue against his dick even faster, and Gordon can't stop the agonized whine that forces its way out of him.

> Benrey's tongue rolls up Gordon's body yet again, and again, and again. It envelops his dick, his thighs, his stomach, and everything in between. He watches, he waits, and eventually he hears Gordon's voice small and broken from his palm. It is enough to make him recoil, to open the floodgates in his mind. That warm feeling floods the inside of his skull and drowns out every thought out but lust, who is gasping for air defiantly.

> "Huh?"

> Benrey pauses, looking down at Gordon--soaked and slimy and oh-so-small--laying with his legs parted, his face flushed, his eyes locked on the very prominent erection straining against his pants. His own trail down to it and he smirks as the weight of Gordon's almost-question hits him.

> "Oh... huh? Wha? Touch myself? Is, uh, is that what you were gonna say?"

> He leans down over Gordon, tongue sticking out between sharp teeth but frustratingly distant from his body. The hand he'd once used to manhandle his human pulled away, fingers slipping into his waistband behind his belt. He sneers, but there is no actual malice behind it. Feigned mockery, just to make Gordon grow brighter. Redder.

> "You... seem to like the idea. You, uh. You... you wanna see? That what you want? Wanna see best friend Benrey's massive hog? Wanna... wanna touch it?"

> A pause, a laugh.

> "Want me to touch it? Seems you like the idea. I can do it. Just, uh, gotta say so."

Gordon mumbles a quiet plea into his hands, begging for some higher power to-- to do something. He doesn't know what. All he knows is that Benrey's sticking his tongue between his teeth, now, looking at him as if he's some problem to be solved or some piece of furniture to wrangle into place. Instead of keeping that tongue right where he had it. Gordon squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath through his nose. He's not disappointed, actually. That would involve caring about what Benrey was doing at all. Which he doesn't.

"You can... you can do whatever you want, man. It's your life," he says, not meeting Benrey's eyes.

Not like he wants to... oh, God. That's Benrey's hand in his pants, isn't it? Slipping under the waistband before Gordon’s even finished his sentence. A sound escapes him that he really wishes wouldn't. He’s really into this, huh, Gordon thinks distantly, just as surprised by the realization as he has been all the previous times he’s figured out that, yes, Benrey actually is pretty hot for him. Like he’s still waiting for the Band-Aid to be ripped off, even now. Even after Benrey’s sucked his dick in a fucking dumpster. (You take what you can get.)

And-- And there it is, huh. Larger than life. Gordon swallows, a little intimidated. Then he wants to curse himself out for feeling intimidated by Benrey’s dick. Freud would have a field day with him.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Owen Grady’s child

Owen Grady x child!reader

warnings: knives, guns

a/n: i cannot remember the plot bare w me

prompt: being owen’s child

okay, let’s start with the fact that he’s a single dad

that did not stop him from raising you right

navy brat

after a little bit of instability during his years of service, he got a job as a raptor trainer

so you see, it wasn’t a typical childhood

you two moved to isla nublar so he could begin his work

“woah, that’s a dinosaur?”

“yeah, kiddo, she’s a velociraptor”

you were a bit older when you met the dinosaurs, so owen trusted you to be around them

“if you respect them, they’ll respect you”

blue took a liking to you pretty quick!!!

owen thought it was adorable the way you got along with the raptors

you were sort of like a co-trainer

living in that lil trailer

“this place is too small”

“quit your complaining and eat your mac and cheese”

your dad taught you how to fix cars and motorcycles

you did a bang-up job

“you really are my child. oh, my god, im so proud”

watching tv with owen all the damn time

it was usually cartoons though bc that was all he cared to watch

sometimes he forgets that you are not a raptor and you have to jog his memory

“can you get your hand out of my face before i tear it off?”

half of your holiday gifts are weapons

“look at this knife, y/n! it’s two inches longer than your old one. you’ll grow into it”

“dad, a knife is not a pair of pants...but thank you, i love it”

you’re pretty good at throwing knives, though. your dad put a target on a nearby tree for you to practice

every once in a while it’s gun practice, though

“okay, remember the proper foot stance...now arms. make sure not to lock up, make sure your fingers are clear from anything that could move...okay, go!”

there was a high level of trust between you and your dad

he ruffles your hair a lot, you used to care

you no longer care

you had free admission to the park, so sometimes you’d take the day off and wander around for a while

you always came home with a stuffed animal (or several)

“is that a stuffed pterodactyl?”

“his name is pterry”

“nice”

back to raptor training: you loved it!!!!!!!

training a dinosaur was nothing like training a dog, lemme tell you

these lovely dinos made you so happy!!!

they’re pretty at-ease when you’re nearby

arguing when anyone talks about using them for some sort of selfish profit

“they’re animals, dipshit! stop treating them like weapons!”

“mr. grady, are you going to tell your child to behave?”

“no, no i will not”

claire popping over to see your dad while you were working on his bike

because she suddenly needed your dad’s help

and wanted to exclude you until your dad said he wouldn’t do anything unless you had the opportunity to come along

“you know, y/n, i have a nephew who’s about the same age as you visiting here right now”

“how old am i, claire?”

she did not have a response

your dad was stifling chuckles

“nice one, kid” *high five*

tHe InDoMiNuS rEx

you: 👀

owen: 👀

yeah this was not gonna be good

tbh you almost died when you were surveying the cage

why? oh, i don’t know...because there was a BIG FUCKING DINOSAUR IN THAT BITCH

“y/n! under there!”

you ran ahead of owen and ducked under a truck where he soon followed (and dumped gasoline all over yall)

terrifying, truly

your dad did not want to let you out of his sight

not todayyyy

“are you okay, yeah?”

“perfect...”

busting into the control center :) tee hee

while owen was barking orders at people and telling them to not do what they were doing, you were sitting next to the guy with a bunch of dinosaurs on his desk

“you like them?”

“not really, i’m not five”

“oh...”

turning to the screen to see flatlining soldiers

“oh, shit. uh, that’s not good. you need to close the park maybe?”

they dont like listening to the child with the bright ideas ig

they did end up shutting off rides though. best they can do, huh?

claire couldnt get in contact with her nephews

you went after them together

it was a long ass journey

you almost died a few times

although your father did trust you to take care of yourself, even in a situation like this, he still was extremely worried for your safety

you got a gun :)

this was actually positively the worst day of your life

okay, it took a long while to catch up to claire’s nephews

“jesus, claire, you’re nephews sure know how to move. this is getting exhausting”

you didn’t find them until the......pterodactyls got loose

“pterry would never do something like this”

“not the time or place, y/n”

“sorry, dad”

finally finding those damn kids

“hey, i’m y/n, your crazy ass aunt just dragged me and my dad all the way around the island to find you!”

oh yeah a pterodactyl tackled your dad

whoop de do your gun was jammed

claire saved the day and all three of you witnessed their little display of pda amidst chaos

“wow, uh, maybe we’ll be cousins...”

your dad finally caved and agreed to use the raptors to find the indominus rex

and you got to prove your badassery out there

“you sure you’re up for this mission, y/n? you know you can stay with claire and the boys if you want”

“i’ll be okay, dad, i promise”

he gave you a hug

YOU GOT A MF MOTORCYCLE

okay i cant lie, you and your dad riding motorcycles side-by-side among velociraptors was probably the coolest thing you’ll ever get to do

but they, uh, kind of turned on you and next thing you know, you were speeding after the ambulance claire was driving

zach and gray were relieved to see you

you gave ‘em a little wave

“do you think we’ll ever be that cool?”

“gray, not now”

“i’m gonna take that as a ‘no’”

CLAIRE LET OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING T-REX

it was an Experience(tm)

you were split up from your dad and the boys while she was doing that

so you were deathly worried

running over there when it was safe

“is everyone alright?”

“define ‘alright’” -gray

“we’re fine, y/n” -zach

“are you okay?” -dad

“yeah, i think so”

this final battle between the dinosaurs was a bit shocking to watch, but it was hard to keep your eyes off

it all wrapped up and the dinos were let loose

and......the park got closed down

you and your dad were unemployed effective immediately

but your dad and claire finally got together

“you guys are sweet but are we all going to fit in that little camper?”

“we’ll make it work”

they did for a while

but there was a lot if arguing

your dad wanted to reside in the camper forever, claire didn’t, they broke up, you stayed with your dad to help him out during hard times, he decided to build a cabin

he claims he was not affected by the breakup but you knew better

you and your dad had an unbreakable bond, you’d been through so much together

it was only a matter of time before the world had something new in store for you and dad

taglist:

[morizoras-cave]

Substitute Dad (Request)

Jake Gyllenhaal x teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Request Description: Ok I ADORE your writing 💖💖💖 and was wondering if you could do a teen costar reader x jake where trader never had a father figure so jake is like. Ok I’m your new father drink water, eat your veg, get some rest, do your homework *kisses forehead* live you sweety. If you could that would be nice Please and thank you💖💖💖

Warnings: bad dad, references to and mentioning of bad childhood

(A/N): this is another one that wasn’t specified as a headcanon, yet i think it would work best as a headcanon, so i sincerely apologize of you didn’t want this to be a headcanon or you think it doesnt really work that well D: 

so your dad left you and your mom when you were young

it was a sad and bitter reality

but you’d come to accept it

though, your entire life you held this anger in you

you’d never have a dad

not that you wanted your dad

but you know

and it wasnt something you talked about

you and your mom didnt talk about it

you didnt talk to your friends about it because what could they do

and you certainly didnt plan to tell your coworkers

it just slipped out one night at a dinner

“are your parents coming to the premiere then?” 

“my mom is”

“your dad’s not coming?”

and those words touched that raging anger that was always rumbling somewhere deep inside you

and so you said

“i mean unless hes coming back from that trip to the store from 13 years ago then no”

and you regretted it immediately

all your coworkers were just staring at you, baffled

and then you left

because you didnt want their pity

thats where jake comes in

the lead for the movie you were filming

you two had grown close over the course of filming

and when you accidentally exposed your dad-issues about 3 months into filming, it all clicked

jake always wondered why you never talked about your family 

in fact, it was actually something he’d been worried about since he first picked up on it

and then he understood

when he did finally get it, he slowly but surely started doing things differently

he didn’t mean to

there was never a moment in his head where he thought

“all right im gonna be this kid’s dad now”

but the protective part of him, the responsible part of him, and the part of him that really, really cared about you had a whole ass plan

subconsciously he started saying things like 

“eat your damn salad, wimp” 

“eat your carrots!” 

“why are these peas untouched, huh?” 

and on long filming days he’d come up to you with a water bottle saying 

“stay hydrated, kid”

you didnt realize what was happening

and neither did he

he only realized when you started opening up to him???

and he thought it over and realized he was acting more and more like a parental figure

and that it might have made you feel more secure with him

which freaked him out at first

but then he saw you the next day and had to physically fight the urge to tell you to “man up and eat your veggies” 

and then he realized he shouldn’t fight it, because it genuinely made him happy to help you like that

so he just leaned into it

he came on stronger, coming into your hotel room to tell you to rest from your homework

but then, unintentionally, he started helping you with your homework

you realized all this was happening when you two had literally SET UP A SCHEDULE SO HE COULD COME HELP WITH YOUR HOMEWORK EVERY DAY

what a champ

anyway at first you were freaked out

because you thought you were basically forcing him to do this with your sob-story 

so you tried to give him the cold shoulder

but he was not having it

“y/n please tell me why you’re angry, is this a puberty thing??” - dad jake

“jake, please.. you’re basically acting like my dad.. im so sorry i made this awkward for you, you don’t have to do this stuff because you feel bad for me” 

jake was baffled because he’d never even considered doing it because he pitied you or anything

“im not- i- listen, i do this because i care about you, not because i pity you for having a trash father” 

“jake-”

“no, you listen, im telling you right now that i care about you and i want you to be happy and thats why im doing this, now are we gonna sit down and do homework or what?” 

and then you smiled

and started doing homework

you were just goofing around and occasionally solving a math problem

you didn’t even realize it got dark so quickly

“alright its time to rest” he’d say and you’d stumble to bed, exhausted

“goodnight, n/n” he said softly, helping you climb under the covers

and then, words that diluted the raging storm that you hadn’t gotten a single rest from since your dad left you

you whispered breathily

“goodnight, dad” 

then you fell asleep right then and there

but god damn it if you could have seen the smile on jakes face

it was so pure and happy

then he leaned down and kissed your forehead and said

“goodnight, kiddo”

and so your dad left 

but this time he would come back

you were sure of it

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun​ @deephideoutmilkshake

[kendallroydefender]

Late nights at Hawkins High Part 2 (Billy Hargrove x reader)

Part 1

You went to stand in the line to get your degree in the sun on the field where you and Billy shared your first kiss a few months ago. It felt like an eternity ago. You waited until they called your last name, walked onto the stage shaking hands with the headmaster and he handed you the piece of paper that meant you were free. After the ceremony you walked up to the mullet haired boy that was your boyfriend. You and Billy had been going strong for the last months. "Hey there.“ you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, his went around your waist as he gave you a sweet kiss "Hey princess. Congrats.“ he whispered against your lips as you parted slightly "Congrats to you too.“ you smiled at him. You took his hand into yours and walked to where your parents where standing. "Look at you two! Congratulations!“ your mother said and gave both of you a big hug, your father did the same afterwards. Your parents liked Billy alot even before you became a couple and they were even happier as you told them that you were in a relationship. You talked to them a bit until his father, his stepmom and Max came over to where you were standing. "Congratulations!“ Susan said as they approached you. "Who would’ve thought Billy was getting a degree!“ his father laughed, it seemed like he wanted it to sound like a joke but you knew his intentions behind it so you took your boyfriends hand again and gave it a squeeze. Your parents talked for a bit with his parents and Neil threw quite a view mean "jokes“ toward Billy.

After a few more minutes you excused yourself and walked a bit away from the group. "I fucking hate him.“ you muttered once you were sure they couldn’t hear you anymore. "Me too, but it’s only one more night.“ he said and you began to smile widely. Tomorrow you would leave Hawkins and you couldn’t be happier to start this new chapter of your life. "Y/n, Billy!“ Someone called and you saw your other best friend Robin come towards you. "Oh my god hey!“ you two hugged each other "Can you believe it? We actually did it!“ you said "I know right?!“ she went to give Billy a hug afterwards. When you and Billy had first got close she wasn’t a fan of him at all. She actually despised him but they eventually got on fine with each other and once she saw how happy he made you she didn’t hated him that much anymore. She was actually happy after you told her that you were together now since she knew how much you liked him and she just wanted her best friend to be happy. One particular Friday night when Robin was staying at your house Billy tapped on your window almost giving her a heart attack thinking the monster from the movie you had just watched was coming. That night he let Robin in on his secret after you swore to him that he could trust her that she wouldn’t tell anyone. After that she understood why he was acting the way he used to in school better.

You and your two friends talked a bit until someone screamed "HARGROVE!“ you saw Billy cringe slightly "Hey Tommy“ Billy said to the boy that approached you all now. "What’s up? You gonna come to my party tonight right?“ he asked and Billy shrugged looking at you gave a small nod. "Yeah guess so.“ He said and Tommy clapped his back "That’s my man!“. They continue talking and you turn towards Robin "You’re coming too right?“ she makes a disapproving sound "It’s my last night and I want to spend it with my best friend please!“ you whine and a smile breaks out on her face "Okay okay!“ you hug her thightly once more.

Afterwards you and Billy went to your parents house to have dinner with them. They originally wanted to invite the Hargrove/Mayfield household too but you asked them not to. Without much explaining you had told your family that Billy had a difficult relationship with his father and that Neil was not a nice person. Billy was happy when he sat down at your table now. He always felt welcomed in your parents home and he was so thankful that they’d accepted him into their lives. You all ate and talked freely. You were also extremely happy seeing your parents and your boyfriend get along so nicely. After the dinner your parents handed you both a envelope. "We have a little present for the two of you. Go on open it!“ your mother said and you opened it, in it were two checks with 500 dollars each. Your family was far from rich so thousand dollars was a lot of money for you. "I- I can’t take this.“ Billy said shaking his head. "Billy. We love you, you are a part of this family now and we thought you two would need a little something for California.“ you father said. Billy looked at it for another moment while he blinked, he looked at your father "Thank you! A lot. Thank you.“ your mother gave the blonde another hug and you thanked them after that. You were so happy to have a loving family and you were sad to leave them. But you would had left Hawkins even if you hadn’t met Billy. You wanted to leave this town since you were 12.

"I can’t believe you are leaving me here!“ Robin pouted but you knew there were no hard feelings. You two sat on a bench in the garden of Tommys House, everyone else was inside drinking and dancing. After a bit Billy came through the door "Here you are.“ you shuffled closer to Robin so he could sit next to you. "Oh I forgot to tell you! I went to get my work uniform today and guess who’s my co worker?“ she asked you pulled your eyebrows up "Who?“ she took a sip from the red cup before saying "Steve fucking Harrington!“ you chuckled "Don’t laugh! It’s a nightmare!“ now you actually let out a laugh "Geez Robin maybe he’s nice...“ she rolled her eyes at you "He’s a dingus!“ "I agree!“ Billy said and you shot him a glance "You shouldn’t be so quick to judge him. Remember I wasn’t so happy either when I was paired up with this one.“ you nodded your head towards Billy "Hey!“ he chuckled holding a hand over his heart. "You know i love you know. But you were mean back then.“ you explained yourself "Yeah I was a dick...“

"Look people can change maybe you and Steve will become friends.“ Robin made a disgusted face "Okay stop before im going to puke.“ you leaned your head onto Billy’s shoulder as the topic of the conversation changed.

As you were about to leave you remembered to ask something "Oh Robin you’re coming over tomorrow right?“

"Of course what time?“ you thought about it "Billy comes over at 12 so maybe 10?“ she nodded and you all got into your parents car wich you drove since you didn’t owned one yourself and neither did Robin and the camaro was already packed with your suitcases and stuff you wanted to take with you to your knew home. You drove Robin home and then made your way to Billy’s house. "You really don’t want to stay over at mine?“ you asked as you looked at the House in front of you. "Nah my dad would actually kill me if I would do that.“ he leaned over to give you a kiss "Also after tonight I can share a bed with you every night.“ you hummed as you leaned in again. The sweet little kiss turned into a small make out session. Kissing Billy still made you nervous but a good kind of nervous, the butterflies were still there everytime. "I love you Billy.“ you said and he gave you a peck again "I love you too.“ he opened the door "See you tomorrow.“ he said. Once he reached the door he winked at you and then he was gone.

The next morning you had breakfast with your parents and packed a few things you needed like your shampoo and toothpaste, everything else was already in the Camaro. You had been able to downgrade your need of rooms once you were actually a couple since you wouldn’t need two separate bedrooms anymore. The flat you had ended up renting wasn’t that big but you loved it when you visited it a few weeks ago also it wasn’t far from the beach. Billy had already found a job there, one of his old friends had known someone who looked for a lifeguard this summer and being a California native he easily got the job. You would look for one in the coming weeks even though Billy was always telling you to apply for college in California but you wanted to start college with him next year.

Robin came over to your house and you talked until Billy came over. You said your goodbyes to your parents first crying but they assured you that you did the right thing and that the two would be back to thanksgiving anyway. Robin hugged you tight and you had to swear to her to call every week at least once and meet up with her when you were in town. You also told her that she should come visit you at the end of summer. While you talked to her your parents hugged Billy goodbye and once you parted Robin looked at the mulled haired boy "Come here you Dingus!“ they hugged and you heard her say "Take good care of her!“ he chuckled "I will.“ she smiled too "Yeah I know.“ you got into the car’s passenger seat, still crying and you all waved as you left. "Are you sure you want to do this... with me?“ Billy asked almost whispering. "Of course I want to B!“ he didn’t looked at you "Billy I love you and I want to start this new part of my life with you! I’m sure in this decision! I want this.“ he smiled now "I want this too. Fuck You don’t know how happy I am that I’m able to leave and on top of that I have you.“ you intertwined your fingers with his and he gave your hand a kiss.

The drive was exhausting, you took turns driving so the other could sleep but finally you did it. The moment you stood in the living room of your new home you knew this long drive was worth it. You squealed as you hugged Billy close giving him a few fast kisses. You were able to get a small flat that was already furnished. Sure it wasn’t anything fancy but you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. This was perfect. After you brought your stuff inside you decided to take a walk on the beach and get some takeaway.

Billy watched the smile on your face wich made him smile as well. You walked hand in hand, the water beside you and you just looked stunning to him. He could actually cry because of how happy he was. "I can’t believe this.“ Billy said and you looked up at him "I know it’s perfect here.“ he stopped walking causing you to also halt. "I love you y/n. You don’t know how much and I’d never thought that would be possible but here I am.“ you smiled up at the boy with the blonde mullet and your heart hammered in your chest. "I love you too Billy Hargrove.“ he smiled a genuine smile, the one he gave only you before he slipped his hand in yours and kissed the back of it briefly as you started to walk along the shore again.