#gavin/fl

[dominimoonbeam]

The Truth in Your Skin - 11

The tattoo shop au continues!!! Find it from the start on ao3. <3

David/Darlin, Asher/Huxley, Milo/Sweetheart, Gavin/FL

tags: misunderstanding, idiots in love, friends to more, fluff

The Truth in Your Skin - 11

“So…” Asher started, leaning against the doorframe of David’s bedroom and watching the other guy get ready. “We’re picking up Darlin and getting something to eat before the game…”

David hummed something in the way of an affirmative, changing his pants from the ones he wore to work to another pair.

“I probably should have asked before I invited myself along,” Asher said, dragging his hair up into a messy tie. “But is this a date?”

David buttoned up his jeans. “What?” he asked in that obtuse way, like he didn’t understand what Asher was talking about.

“I can get a ride from Sweetheart and Milo instead,” Asher offered.

David snorted, grabbing a black t-shirt and dragging it on. “And be their third wheel?”

Asher grinned. “They love a third wheel.”

“Hn. Are you and Huxley exclusive?”

Asher froze, mind whirring in his head. They hadn’t talked about that. They were dating. They were definitely a thing and it was more than sex. “Hey! Don’t try to distract me! We were talking about you and Darlin.”

David frowned in a way that was dangerously close to pouting. He sat on the foot of his bed and pulled his boots on.

“So, is this a date or a friend thing tonight?”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because you’re my best friend and I like Darlin. You two obviously have a thing going on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” David mumbled but he was fighting a smirk.

Asher grinned. David had never been like this, not with any of his exes. Usually, they came onto him and he rolled with it for a while. He’d done a few long term relationships but they never got to the moving-in stage. And he never smirked like that… “Do you want help?”

David looked up at him, confused before huffing a laugh and getting up. “What? You’re going to play cupid?”

Asher followed him down the hall toward the front door when he pushed past. “I am great at playing cupid!”

“No, you are pretty good at being a wingman, but this isn’t that,” David clarified, pulling on his jacket and checking for his keys and his phone. And then he looked at Asher and rolled his eyes, grabbing one of Asher’s jackets out of the closet and tossing it at him.

“I can definitely help you two hook up,” Asher said and then laughed. “Okay, that sounds more hands on than I meant it to… I mean, I’m pretty sure you know how to hook up once you get past the initial stages.”

David glared at him. “Where is this coming from? When have I ever needed help with this shit?”

Asher shrugged his jacket on. “Seriously? You’ve never asked anyone out before.”

“What?” David’s face pinched. He really didn’t realize it.

“I’m just offering to help—”

“I’m not looking to hook up, so thank you but no thank you,” David said, leading the way out of the apartment and then locking it up behind Asher. “I don’t need help.”

Asher shrugged, taking the stairs with David on his heels. “But you are… more than friends?”

“Shut up,” David growled.

“Okay, not yet more than friends, but that’s where you’re going…”

“Ash. Seriously. I’ll leave you at home if you don’t stop.”

Asher laughed. “You can’t leave me! I have the tickets!”

-

Darlin got dinner before the game with David and Asher. The diner was close to the stadium and packed, most of the crowd leaving around the same time to walk over to the game.

Milo and Sweetheart had come with Gavin and FL. They all melded into the mass that formed the worst idea of a line ever, funneling toward the entrance behind Asher.

More than once Darlin was jostled into David’s side. They mumbled sorry but all the other voices probably drowned them out. When the crowd grew dense and Darlin started to fall behind, David snaked an arm back to catch their jacket and pull them forward until they were right in front of him, back to his chest every time the crowd squeezed around them. And his hand stayed on their upper arm until they were past the ticket booth and into the big halls around the rink.

Gavin immediately peeled off with FL and Asher to get snacks.

“Do you want anything?” David asked. He practically had to yell but at least they could hear him now.

Darlin wrinkled their nose and shook their head, hands in their pockets.

Milo leaned around their side, one arm slung over Sweetheart’s shoulders like they didn’t want to risk losing them. “Drinks,” he shouted and then led the way.

Darlin and David followed.

“David?” someone called over the noise, coming up to them from the side. Darlin had never seen them before but from the ink peeking up from the back of their neck, they assumed it was a client—until the stranger jumped up to throw their arms around David.

He caught them with one hand. They were delicate and beautiful, and looked even smaller pressed against him. He huffed when they let go.

“Oh my gosh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” the beautiful stranger beamed up at him.

Starry-eyed, Darlin thought. That was how to describe the way this person was looking at him.

David nodded and the two made small talk. They clearly knew each other. Darlin tried not to eavesdrop, looking away, but it was impossible not to hear the exchange. They were exes. This was David’s ex. Darlin wasn’t sure what that pang in their chest was about. He’d never talked about them, but of course there he had exes. And they were so beautiful…

Milo looked back and Darlin saw the flicker of surprise and then the souring of his expression before he schooled his features. And then his gaze went to Darlin, like he was checked on them. Why? It wasn’t like it was any of their business.

The ex rejoined their friends just as they were getting close to the front of the line.

When they finally got to their seats, the players were doing warm-ups on the ice.

Asher nearly dropped his nachos in excitement when he saw Huxley out there.

Darlin wasn’t exactly sure how he’d picked Hux out of what seemed to be similarly built men in a ton of padding and helmets, but he was right.

Darlin ended up sitting between David and Milo with Sweetheart on Milo’s other side and Asher, Gavin, and FL in front of them.

It was great. The game was amazing and the crowd was so loud. They were glad they’d worn their hoodie under their jacket because the rink was predictably frigid.

At intermission, Gavin and FL went to find the bathroom while Milo and Sweetheart went to get more drinks. Asher made his way down to the boards where Huxley skated over to meet him, the two smiling at each other through the glass like goofs before Huxley had to go.

“I bet he’ll be wearing one of Huxley’s jerseys to the next game,” Darlin said, tipping their head to the side and shouting over the echo of all the voices in the rink and the hum of music on the speakers.

David finished his beer. “Bet he’ll be wearing one by sunrise.”

Darlin laughed.

“So, do you want to go to the next one?”

“What?” Darlin turned their head to look up at him. He was close. Really close. They’d been sitting shoulder to shoulder the whole game but that hadn’t seemed that close when everyone was packed in around them.

“The next game. Asher’s talking about trying to go to as many as possible this season, to show support for Hux… The next one isn’t far, a couple hour drive. Do you want to go?”

Darlin nodded even while their brain felt like it was processing. Was he asking them out? No. No, he was asking if they wanted to come along. It was a friend thing. Obviously. “Yeah.” They smiled and it wasn’t hard, even with the slight embarrassment at where their thoughts had strayed. They wanted to go. It felt good to have friends again.

Sweetheart and Milo came back, both of them balancing more drinks than their hands could reasonably carry, and loudly arguing about a historic event no one else had ever heard about. They passed out drinks and put them in cupholders, never missing a beat.

When Gavin and FL came back, Gavin had forgotten to zip his pants and FL had Gavin’s lipstick smeared along their neck.

Asher didn’t come back up until the players were back on the ice and everyone was being herded back to their seats.

When he sat down, Darlin mussed his hair from behind and he tossed back that goofy smile.

-

David had reminded Asher about four times to give him a call if he couldn’t find Hux or he didn’t get a ride back with him and that they were going to a club nearby so he could find them there if he needed to. Asher had laughed and called him a mother hen.

David pretended to be annoyed.

They had routines.

He walked over to the club with Darlin, trailing the rest of their group. “Okay, I’m thinking,” he said, turning his head and tipping it down to aim his voice at them. They nodded, already smiling. They were gorgeous. There was something in the way they moved, in their eyes, and the tattoos up the side of their neck toward their jaw. It was hard not to stare at them during the game—hard to keep his gaze on the ice when they were so close—but it had been a thrill to sit there with them and see them jump up from their seat to cheer or boo. It was like the version of them that had walked into his shop months ago had been a ghost and this was the living, grinning, truth. “We go to the club and wait until Ash texts me that he’s left with Hux,” he said, not the least bit ashamed of his mother hen status. He wasn’t leaving his best friend stranded if something went wrong.

Darlin nodded along. “Okay. And then?”

“And then we bail.”

Darlin grinned up at him, bumping into his side. “What about them?” they asked, thumbing toward the other two couples.

David tsked. “Gavin is going to be trying to put together an orgy the second he gets through those doors. Milo and Sweetheart are likely to either join, take to dancing until the place closes, or just slip away to a back room.”

Darlin laughed. “And what if I want to join the orgy?” they asked.

He coughed, somehow inhaling wrong.

Darlin patted him on the back as they neared the entrance to the club. “I like your plan! Grab me when you’re ready to bail!” they yelled over the music just before they crossed from the street into the building, into dark walls and colorful distant lights. The floor pulsed underfoot.

David smiled when Milo caught Darlin’s hand, lifting it and leading them out to the dancefloor with the rest of them, like it was obviously going to happen—like they had done it a thousand times—Sweetheart leading him and him leading Darlin.

David let Gavin grab his arm and push him toward the bar. He was literally using David like a snowplow to get to the liquor but it wasn’t the first time so he wasn’t exactly surprised. When he reached the bar he leaned against it, pivoting to the side to let Gavin in next to him. The smaller man grinned, bumping against him and practically leaning over the bar to wave down one of the bartenders.

“You look happy!” Gavin shouted over the music, leaning against his chest to launch his words toward his ear.

David shrugged. He felt good. He turned his head toward the dance floor to watch the rest of their group—to watch Darlin.

When Gavin finally got the bartender he paused mid order to toss a look up to David. “You drinking?”

David shook his head. He was done for tonight.

“Is Darlin?”

It only took David a split second to nod. Better to get them something to hold and sip at if they wanted than not. He had seen them leave plenty of drinks unfinished, so he knew they wouldn’t feel obligated just because someone put it in their hand. And they weren’t driving, so even if they wanted to throw back shots, it was fine. He could always carry them to the truck.

He didn’t hate that idea.

He helped Gavin carry drinks to a tall table Sweetheart had already staked out for their jackets. Their group came and went from the table in waves, taking drinks and hanging out before being pulled out to the dancefloor by each other. It didn’t take long before his phone buzzed in his pocket. Asher had sent a picture, a selfie of himself and Huxley in the parking lot behind the arena, both grinning.

-have a fun night!!! don’t wait up!

David smiled because Ash couldn’t see it and texted back.

-I’m locking the door. Don’t bother coming back before noon.

He looked up and picked Darlin out of the crowd immediately, like he always knew where they were. They’d left their jacket and hoodie with everyone else’s, down to ripped jeans, band shirt, and all those tattoos. He felt like he could watch them all night, loath to start his own plan of escaping the club. Just another minute…

“David!” He raised an eyebrow and looked back, and then down.

The familiar face beamed up at him for the second time that night, red cheeked and glassy eyed from too many drinks. They never had been good at holding their liquor, or knowing when to quit. “I knew that was you even from behind!” They shouted, bouncing up and throwing their arms around his neck.

He put a hand to their back, still surprised to see his ex again, although maybe he shouldn’t have been. It seemed like everyone in the club had been at the game. “Yeah.” They never ran into each other. It hadn’t been a bad breakup. It just hadn’t working. And he honestly hadn’t thought about them since.

They kept their arms around him when they dropped back down to their heels, smiling up at him. “You never wanted to come to clubs!”

He nodded. “Yeah.” They were really drunk. He could feel the teetery sway through their arms still around his neck, they were using him to keep themself upright.

“It’s been so long. I was just going home but do you…do you want to come home with me?” They pressed against his chest again, blinking up at him like they were either attempting to seduce or just trying to focus their vision. “We can catch up.”

“No, thanks. But you get home safe.”

They pouted, leaning back a fraction. “You sure?” They smiled, digging around in their jacket pockets. “I can give you a ride to your place!”

David frowned when they pulled out their car keys while stumbling to the side at the same time. He caught their waist and steadied them. “Come on,” he grumbled, pulling them up against his side and walking them toward the exit, snagging their keys out of their other hand on the way.

-

Darlin watched a beautiful, delicate creature hug David. The ex from the arena. They were talking but Darlin couldn’t really see David’s face, just that other person, smiling and then pouting playfully.

Something in Darlin’s chest hurt again and they weren’t sure why. Or maybe they just didn’t want to know why.

When he threw his arm around his ex and left with them, Darlin knew they’d been an idiot.

They’d convinced themself they weren’t hoping for anything—that they weren’t crushing on David Shaw and holding out hope that this was more than just friends hanging out. He was amazing and they were more than happy for that friendship, for the normalcy and safety they’d found with him, Asher, Sweetheart, and Milo. It was more than enough.

They gravitated back to the table, Milo and Sweetheart on their heels. Sweetheart picked up their beer and frowned, remembering it was empty, it seemed. Milo offered to get more and took off toward the bar.

Darlin grabbed their hoodie and jacket.

Sweetheart raised an eyebrow. “Are you going outside?”

“Yeah. Too hot!” they shouted over the music.

Sweetheart grinned. “Yeah you are…”

Darlin laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” They wove their way to the exit and out, feeling more than a little stupid for crushing on David.

The cold air hit them hard and they pulled their hoodie on, starting down the sidewalk away from the club, pulling their jacket on too.

Embarrassment and liquor helped warm their cheeks against the night. What had they been thinking? They hadn’t really. They’d been trying so hard not to actually think about liking David, about how it had felt to wake up in his bed, about how much they liked when he gently put hands on them to guide them through crowds, about the way his smirks and their inside jokes made them feel important. It had worked until it didn’t, and now they had to realize what an idiot they’d been and just hope no one else had noticed them mooning over him.

They shoved their hands into their pockets and pushed their chin down.

“Darlin!”

They jumped and stopped, almost slipping on the ice. They turned back to blink at him jogging after them, his breath forming clouds in the crisp air. They felt like their brain was doing a reboot and decided they’d have one too many drinks tonight.

He huffed, brow creased the way it did when he was annoyed. “What the hell?”

Darlin stared at him, now standing right in front of them, waiting for an answer. “I…Thought you left with someone.”

The crease deepened. “What? I came with you.” Another step closer, right in their space, and yet there was nothing threatening about it. “They were drunk, so I put them in a cab and sent them home.”

Darlin felt heat spreading to their face again. At least it was too cold out to show. They nodded slowly. “Oh. Okay. But… You know, if you wanted to…” Fuck. What were they even trying to say now? “I mean, you don’t have to hang out with me just because you drove me…”

The brow crease was now accompanied by the almost pouty-lipped frown. He touched their arm. They were standing so close. “I came with you,” he said again, like they hadn’t heard or hadn’t understood.

They couldn’t be understanding him because it sounded like he meant this was more than friends hanging out, and as much as they craved that, as excited as they felt at the idea, it just couldn’t be what he meant. They looked nothing like his ex, and while that sort of thing wouldn’t have given Darlin pause years ago, it did now.

The worried crease in his brow smoothed out and his hand dropped from their arm. “Unless… I mean, I guess I assumed this was…” David started and stopped, floundering, color rising on his cheeks. Was he blushing? “If you just want to be friends, that’s okay. More than okay. I like being your friend and I definitely don’t want to fuck that up.”

Darlin stared back at him. “Really?”

David raised his eyebrow. “Do I really not want to mess up us being friends?”

Darlin exhaled a thin laugh. “No, the other part. The… more than friends part.”

David’s lips pressed like he was fighting a smirk. “Yeah.”

“Was this a date?” They were smiling now, uncontrollable.

“Sort of?”

Darlin laughed, touching his arm to steady themself. He held onto them in return and waited, smiling. “Dude… If I had known we were on a date, I would have been so pissed about you leaving with someone else!”

“I didn’t leave with someone else,” he corrected. “I was just—”

“I know that now! But I didn’t know that ten minutes ago.”

He pulled them in closer, until his arm was around their back and their hip pressed to his. “Well, next time just assume that I’m not? I wouldn’t leave with someone else.”

Darlin was definitely blushing now, looking up at him with so little space between their faces. “So, dating?”

He nodded slowly. “If you want to.”

Darlin nodded.

David smiled and dipped his head that inch left between them, but didn’t completely close the gap. It was an offer, Darlin realized with a rush.

They leaned up and kissed him, his lip ring cold against their scar, but warming fast.

[capitalisticveins]

If my future partner never says my name the way Gavin perks up and says “Deviant” in the first friendsgiving at 3:19 I DO NOT WANT THEM‼️‼️‼️

[ryoko-san]

[Masc! FL]

fooliverse au has officially became my favorite au.

[xanyiaz]

hello fellow gavin enjoyers, my friend drew gavin again 🤭‼️this time from the april fool's au 🤞

again all credits go to @artingsumstuff, i'm merely sharing on their behalf :))

flustered subby gavin supremacy 🙏‼️

tag list <3 (lmk if you'd like to be added or removed !!): @zeerohpunk @themeridian @puffin-smoke @vind3miat0r @froggytimemachineinternet @redactedbloop @qhoaaaa @plaqying @ashton-sano @mokozroach @washa @idk-ig-7 @kuteheadrest @rejectedasset @copsecore @definitelynuwonhere

[sincerelywhistler]

“Why only flip burgers when you can flip me over?” -Gavin, probably

His latest Hot Boi Summer was so <33

[free-boundsoul]

I kinda want Kody to make an appearance during the Damn fam's roadtrip, see Freelancer and Dear hanging out together and immediately get jealous that they're with a different water elemental

"Oh I see you finally completed your little elemental collection, Raincloud."

And Dear just looks Kody up and down and says "If you were the first candidate, no wonder they waited."

[mars-mell]

The bride and the ugly ass groom (redacted edition)

Og photo⬇️

[messenger-of-stupidity]

I love how it comes full circle.

The second audio with Gavin was about him "helping" FL study (cough cough distracting FL cough cough)

And now FL is distracting him from studying

[tumbletaker]

Damien: Some people are like slinkies. FL: Explain. Damien: Not really good for much but makes you crack a smile when you push it down the stairs. FL: Fl: Please don’t push Gavin down the stairs. Damien: You can’t stop me.

[s0lairee]

kurtas and kajal

DESI GAVIN ENJOYERS THIS ONE'S FOR YOU!! i usually don't give him horns, but i couldn't resist putting gold jewelry on em. there's also a version without horns under the cut <3

[frog-0n-a-l0g]

FL and Hux being smoking buddies.

Hux: dude so like, yk when some food hits so bad you wish you could fuck it? Would that be like happiness or would gav feed off that.

FL: wait. If feeding is food, and gav feeds on sexual energy, is that what gav thinks every time he feeds?

Hux: dude I think we made a breakthrough

FL: dude same

[dominimoonbeam]

Ski Masks and All

Freelancer/Gavin fic of sweetness.

Home Invasion fic inspired by the recent @ejunkiet home invasion fic about Asher/Babe! <3

tags: home invasion, emotional hurt/comfort, reference to previous mugging and assault, softness, domestic fluff, gavin gets a bit scary, don’t fucking mess with his people.

Ski Masks and All

Freelancer came down the dark hall from the bedroom at the back of the apartment toward the kitchen at the front. Their legs were cold, big sleep shirt hanging down over one shoulder, and eyes still half-closed and sleepy. They were almost around the counter, almost stepping onto tile floor, when they realized they weren’t alone.

Their eyes opened and they woke up all the way in a flash, body jerking toward the living room and back hitting the counter. A man stood there, another behind him. They wore black hoodies and ski masks. Actual ski masks!

Freelancer had had their place broken into before, when they were first on their own, but they hadn’t been home. And they had been mugged once before too, all before moving to Dahlia, but the guy hadn’t bothered with a mask.

The second guy, the one behind the big one standing almost within arm’s reach of Freelancer, was frozen in the process of unplugging their tv from the wall.

Their first thought was, “Really? While I was asleep in the other room? Ballsy…” but that momentary appreciation of their guts was followed instantly by instinct to get out of this without a fist to the face, or worse. Freelancer slowly lifted one hand between them, fingers spread. “Okay,” they said, as though these assholes had offered a deal and they were taking it.

Calm. They just needed to keep things calm.

They would have taken a step back but their back was already to the counter. “Take it. I didn’t see shit.”

The two stayed frozen for another second before the big guy took a step closer, as if testing the imagined boundary between them, Freelancer’s hand still out. “You home alone?” he asked.

Their mind ran a thousand miles in the seconds after that question. Were they? No. Gavin was still asleep. But what was better, telling them that they were or telling them that no, in fact, there was another person in the back room who might be calling the cops right now?

Their thoughts were so fast and chasing old instincts that it never even occurred to them to use magic, or that Gavin was a daemon, all they could think was whether these strangers who had been willing to break into the apartment while they were asleep, would hurt him.

“No,” Freelancer answered without much pause, all those thoughts taking only a moment. Being alone wouldn’t be good. “My boyfriend’s still asleep.” They would scream bloody murder if either of these guys tried to go down that hallway though.

The guy unplugging the tv tsked and hurried to pick up it up. “Let’s go,” he whispered.

The other guy stared at Freelancer for another moment before stepping back and picking up their backpack off the chair nearest him.

Freelancer started forward to take it back on instinct. Their computer and books were in there. Their wallet and everything they had. They had had that backpack when they had nothing else. Sometimes it was hard to remember that it wasn’t all they owned still.

The big guy shoved them back hard, their back hitting the counter again, working the same spot. They hissed out a breath and winced more at the mistake of trying to get it back than the shove. A bruise was fine. That time they’d been mugged they’d gotten the shit kicked out of them. That seemed like a lifetime ago though. It sort of was.

Gavin walked down the hallway and everything seemed to freeze again.

The two guys snapped their attention to him only to relax when they saw him. Gavin was smaller than them, wearing only a pair of sweats and stretching sleepily. “Deviant?” he called, voice husky.

He stopped and blinked at the other two, one eyebrow lifting along with the corner of his mouth. “What is…Who are they? Deviant, is this…is this a roleplay thing?”

Freelancer felt like two worlds were colliding in their head. Gavin feared nothing because he was a daemon, an incubus, made of magic and well-fed. And Freelancer… Freelancer was magic too. They weren’t a lost, confused kid anymore.

Gavin’s eyes gleamed in the dark, flashing over the guy with the tv and then the other with Freelancer’s bag in his hand. “Oh,” he exhaled the word, the start of a smile vanishing when he suddenly understood. Did he put it together or did he feel it all in their auras? What would their auras tell him?

And then Gavin grinned. Of all the smiles, smirks, and grins Freelancer had seen, they had never seen this. It was all teeth and menace. He took another step forward, hips swaying like something feline. “You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

The big guy huffed a laugh but it was confused, choking on an instinct the man himself couldn’t place. “Careful, pretty boy.”

The air in the room shifted, growing heavier.

Gavin took another step, almost between the intruder and Freelancer now. “Put it down and leave,” he said, and it might have sounded generous if it wasn’t for the low rumble under his voice, like a storm on the horizon.

“G-Gav…” Freelancer tried, still caught between being afraid for him and knowing that there was nothing to fear at all. Caught between the instincts of life before and the knowledge of life now. They’d stepped closer to him, the fingertips of one hand to his bare back but their eyes still over his shoulder on the unpredictable stranger. They couldn’t let anything happen to Gavin. They couldn’t.

“Listen to your—” the stranger started but then Gavin was right there, in front of him.

Freelancer’s hand stayed in the air, where he had been. They couldn’t see whatever they saw on his face, but the one holding the tv dropped it. The plastic and glass crunched. They both gasped like it was hard to breathe and stumbled for the door but the big guy couldn’t get away. At first Freelancer thought Gavin had grabbed him, but he’d grabbed the backpack and the stranger had forgotten to let go. For long seconds he kicked at the floor, falling down and getting up and trying to get away but unable to as long as his fist was still clamped around the strap of their bag.

“Let go, dipshit,” Gavin growled.

He did, on his knees and crawling out of the apartment.

Gavin followed to the door, leaning out and watching them go.

When he came back in, he flicked on the lights.

Freelancer blinked.

Gavin stared back. His expression was soft but confused. “What was that?” he asked gently, crossing to them and putting their bag gently back on the chair on his way.

“I…I got up and they were… I should have…I don’t know, I just…”

Gavin stood right in front of them, touching their arms and nodding like he understood all their broken sentences. “Okay. It’s okay.”

“No. I…Fuck, why didn’t I do anything?”

He touched their face, dropping soft kisses. “Did you freeze up? That’s natural—”

“No, I just… I forgot.”

“Forgot?” Gavin blinked.

Freelancer felt heat rush their cheeks and tears prick their eyes. “I forgot I could use magic,” they confessed in a whisper.

Gavin stared for another second and they could tell he was torn between smiling and being amused or being very worried. “Has this happened before, Deviant? Before you knew you had magic, I mean. Were you ever…” He winced and flicked a hand at the room, as if encompassing whatever this was.

Freelancer shrugged.

Gavin frowned but nodded. “That makes sense then. You did what you knew.” He pushed the mess of their hair behind their ear. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine,” they said and then sighed when they looked past him at their busted tv.

He turned, arm curling around their waist, and followed their gaze. With a little laugh and a little magic, the tv was back where it had been and fixed. “Magic,” he whispered, kissing their temple, and they sighed, sagging into him. “You’re okay,” he promised, hands trailing from the back of their head to the base of their spine.

Freelancer swallowed hard and nodded, scrubbing the tears from their eyes. He kissed their cheeks, soothing the tracks where they had gone. “Want to stay up or go back to bed, love?” he asked gently.

Freelancer sighed, leaning from side to side as they tried to decide. They weren’t sure they could fall asleep, but they were still so tired. “Bed and maybe sit up for a while?”

He smiled, kissing them on the mouth this time. It lingered and they felt a little better. They locked the door again, but couldn’t remember if they’d locked it earlier or not. Maybe they hadn’t? Maybe they’d gotten lax? They put on the chain lock too this time.

 -

 Gavin watched them, his heart in his throat. He had never thought to lock their door before. He had always viewed locks on doors as a means of keeping people from walking in on sex…which he didn’t mind.

It had never occurred to him that anyone would dare to come into is deviant’s home uninvited and with ill intent. What would have happened tonight if he hadn’t woken up when he had? What if he hadn’t been there? They would have used magic eventually, he was sure of it. If it came to a real confrontation, it would have been instinct. But if the assholes had just taken their stuff and left?

That flavor of carefully held panic in his deviant’s aura was still scraping at his nerves.

And the violence in that man who had been standing so fucking close to them. Too close.

After the deviant locked up and rubbed more would-be tears from their eyes, Gavin led them back to bed. He put up a ward around the apartment this time, making sure they felt it and his heart breaking a little when they relaxed against him. He settled them in bed, in his arms, and kissed their face. “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered.

Freelancer huffed a tired laugh. “It’s not your fault. I probably didn’t lock—”

“It’s not your fault,” he countered. “They shouldn’t have tried to rob you.” He played with their hair, their eyelids heavy but their aura still rattling with too many thoughts, uncertainties, and nerves. He wished he could take those away. “Too bad it wasn’t a roleplay thing,” he joked in a whisper, rewarded by the instant curve of their lips and the lighter burst of their aura.

“Creepy home invasion fantasy?” they considered, wrinkling their nose.

He kissed that nose. “Ski masks and all.”

Freelancer hummed, unimpressed. “Maybe.”

He stroked their scalp through their hair.

“Did you really think it was?”

Gavin smiled. “I mean, it made more sense than unempowered criminals…”

Freelancer snorted. Good, humor at the thought of them forgetting they could use magic. “Can you imagine what Damien’s going to say when we tell him?”

Gavin kissed their temple. “We’ll have to tell him outside so he doesn’t set anything on fire…”

Freelancer smiled, drifting toward sleep again, their aura quieting in the gentle waves of comfort and affection he was used to.

Gavin sighed softly, kissing across their cheek. “You’re okay,” he told them, and himself.

The next day when they were in the shower, he would notice the bruise on their back. He recognized a countertop bruise when he saw one and gently prodded them into telling him again what had happened, with all the details this time. They shrugged off the shove and Gavin let it go, but he healed the bruise. He would always lock that stupid door and ward the apartment too. His human was precious.

[capitalisticveins]

GOD I wish we could’ve seen the damn crew reuniting with Freelancer and Gavin after the ward opened after Inversion omfg

[plaqying]

damn crew more like dadless crew

[xanyiaz]

[repost] GAVIN FANART FOR MY FELLOW GAVIN ENJOYERS‼️

i didn't draw these, my close friend did a while ago, so all credits to @artingsumstuff ! i'm merely just sharing them bc they did him so well 🫶

tag list <3 (lmk if you'd like to be added or removed !!): @copsecore @zeerohpunk @themeridian @puffin-smoke @vind3miat0r @froggytimemachineinternet @redactedbloop @qhoaaaa @plaqying @ashton-sano @mokozroach @washa @idk-ig-7 @kuteheadrest @solairereject

[p0pp3t]

Gavin x Reader | Special Clientele

sfw

gender-neutral reader (freelancer)

2nd person

fluff

slightly suggestive near the end

word count: 665

 “If you can change your appearance, can’t you just ‘paint’ your own nails?”

You sit at the kitchen table across your lover. The little pouch you’ve set down clinks with nail polish bottles, cuticle pushers, and everything else you’d need for an at-home manicure.

“Sure I could, but where’s the fun in that?” Gavin asks. “Anything to have my hands in yours, My Love.”

You roll your eyes, but bring his hand to your lips and press a kiss to his knuckles anyway. Gavin smiles contentedly as you give his nails a closer look.

“Good and strong,” you comment, applying gentle pressure with your thumb. You release his hand and unzip your bag, neatly lining up bottles of nail polish in front of the both of you. “Why don’t you pick your color and,” you open your phone as well; the screen displays a graphic of different nail shapes - “Your shape.”

“With pleasure.”

Taking his time, Gavin’s eyes narrow and brow furrows as he goes through his color options, holding each bottle to the back of his hand and seeing how they complement him. Maybe he’d be a little more decisive choosing his shape.

“Tough choice, isn’t it?” Playful affection tinges your tone. “You can always pick more than one; it’s no trouble.”

“Well, I wanna get this right,” he says in earnest. “You’re the expert. What would you recommend?”

“I’ve always thought that pink suits you; what do you think about this one?” You take a warm shade of magenta and slide it toward Gavin, to which he takes the bottle and holds it against his skin a second time.

“This’ll do perfectly,” he says, satisfied. “And stilettos, if you please.”

Your work is gentle and precise, with soft nudges to Gavin’s cuticles and meticulously laid brushstrokes on his nails. He eyes you the whole time, observing how your brow lowers over your squinted eyes and how constant your hold on each of his fingers is. Looks like you want to get this right, too.

“You have excellent handiwork, but I guess I already knew that,” Gavin offers. You only smile wryly in response, never taking your gaze off the steady lines of paint you’ve left. “You’ve done this before?” he asks, a playful suspicion about his voice.

“Yeah, for a few years by now,” you tell him. “Just my own for a while, but I’ve done other people’s nails a few times before.”

“Well, I feel even better knowing I’m in good hands. And they are very good hands.” Someone’s on his game. You finally take your eyes off Gavin’s nails, if only for a moment to roll them again.

“Enough of that. This is a professional setting,” you tell your client, something barely noticeable tugging the corners of your lips upward.

“My apologies, then. I spoke out of turn.” 

You’re given the peace to carry out the rest of your task undisturbed, with Gavin carefully resting his chin on his free hand and continuing to watch you in quiet fondness. You disrupt his concentration at times to ask that he lays both hands flat on the tabletop, letting you wave a folding fan over the still-drying polish in cool gusts.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to cast a breeze?”

“‘Sure I could, but where’s the fun in that?’” you parrot. 

Eventually, your hard work pays off with a final swipe of top coat and the last few flourishes of your fan. You tap lightly at the corners of the polish, assuring yourself that it’s dry enough to avoid smudging.

“All done. What do you think?”

Gavin holds a hand up to the kitchen light, inspecting the glossy pink at each pointed nail.

“Beautifully done, as expected. Thank you, My Love.” He stands - for the first time in hours (“This takes longer than I thought,”) - and ambles to your side of the table, pressing warm lips to your own.

“Hm, is that my payment?”

“If you’ll accept it. Unless you were looking for more?”