#somehow we always gravitate back to each other

[edgarallenp0e]

Seems we’re on speaking terms again

[willyoubemycherryy]

Intimacy Cues (C. Kent)

Summary: Who better to teach you how to talk body when you never learned the language?

Contains: smut AND plot so it’s long,depressing past, the college au you all secretly needed, struggles with physical touch, struggles with any form of intimacy, one mild panic attack, Clark is understanding but hot, dumb ideas, hugging, bonding, kissing, making out, it starts off shaky then soft but quickly snowballs into horn-e central, size kink, slight dumbification, strength kink, first kisses, virginity kept but not for long just give me till the second part, Clark is a little infatuated, they’re so nasty about each other my word, grinding, kissing (no forreal), prayer bc we all need it

A/N- my stomach is fine, it wasn’t a tumor but a blockage because of something I ate that never digested, causing my tummy to bloat and swell but they fixed me up so I’m back😈

. .* ੈ✩‧₊•

“Nononono- no, stop!!”

This might be the worst decision of your entire life.

Clark pulls away again, looking down at you with his eyebrows drawn together in concern but also exasperation because-

“Hey! It’s okay- you’re okay. Remember…you were the one who asked for my help.” He didn’t say the obvious “but we’re not getting any farther” part out loud but it echoes through your head all the same and you breathe out a deep sigh; regretting it with the depths of your very being but, yes. You did ask him for his help.

Help with what? The answer would’ve ended your social life if anyone who wasn’t Clark had found out.

You needed his help with…closeness- intimacy.

Growing up you were always awkward. Not in a charming way or even unconventional, you just simply didn’t make the cut based by society’s standards. You were always too gangly, too weird, too timid; so imagine the surprise come middle of highschool to now college where you’ve finally grown into yourself.

You know how you like to dress and which clothes look hottest on you, you know what hairstyle suits best for your face shape, you’re still weird but you’re also sarcastic which somehow equals charm to people and you’ve also managed to come out of your shell a bit. Becoming more confident from people naturally gravitating towards you after your blooming stage and even more after letting your friends convince you to join your college’s cheerleading team. You’d become everything you wanted to always try.

Pretty, popular, and fun. The problem?

Thanks to how much of a late bloomer you were, you never got the chance to get comfortable with others intimately during your formative years. Nobody liked you in that way and you were terrified of embarrassing yourself so there was nothing. No first kiss, no first dance with a boy, hell- even now you still get uneasy when others stare at you too long. Hiding behind your image as a college sweetheart made everything you were still to unsettled to try easier. Don’t misunderstand; it wasn’t that you never wanted those things, it’s that you’re not used to others suddenly picking you for those kinds of things after being invisible and missing out on them for almost all your life to the point where you don’t know how to deal with it when those moments do happen.

Still, you acted like everything was fine.

Playing the role of pretty cheerleader- the flirty tease that was favored by many even though that favor was shallow as a tear on a hot day. You pretended. And it was working, nobody knew…or so you believed.

Cue to one of the football teams parties where you’d been flirting with a guy, coy smile painted on your face as you giggled softly whenever he spoke, batting your pretty eyes at him in your little mini skirt. It had been going well until he suddenly leaned closer, focusing solely on you and when you felt the heat of his skin from how close he was- it felt as if the color had drained from your face, leaving you frozen as you became so uncomfortable it was visible; nerves screaming at you to flee until you listened. Spinning on your heels and bolting, trying to calm your breathing enough to will the cotton out of your ears.

You didn’t realize it then but a certain pair of blue eyes had been watching the whole thing. He’s always seen you. Which is funny because you almost always actively avoid him. In fact, he’s seen you enough to know that this isn’t the first time you’ve had that reaction and one day after a particularly rough week of endless pondering over you; he decides to just ask you after practice is over. Clark waits until his and your friends leave, it being only you and him on the field when he starts to walk over to you. The sound of incoming footsteps make you look up and when you see him, he can hear the very second your heart stops; skipping a beat before it quickly begins to thrum out of rhythm.

Honestly, there genuinely are not enough words to describe how attractive Clark Kent was. He was so incomprehensibly beautiful that you avoided Clark altogether just to avoid getting a headache from staring at him for too long especially since the real suffering started when he’d smile. Seemingly perfect pearly white straight teeth but when his grin broadened, his sharp canines would show, leaving you breathless every time. The type of good looking that was flat out overwhelming. Besides being apart of adjacent stereotypes, you two didn’t go together but there was no animosity.

Clark stops and you have to look up at him because of his hulking size. At almost 6���4 he nearly dwarfed you and his proportions matched. Thick, beefy everything- everywhere and you swallow before forcing a smile on your face. While you preferred to avoid him for the sake of keeping yourself out of the psych ward from how crazy he could drive you; you were still curious as to why he came to talk to you. He takes a moment to just look at you, cerulean eyes almost glowing but he doesn’t realize how intense his stare is until you start to shuffle on your feet- dainty hands twitching nervously at your side and that’s when he speaks.

“Hey…I know we don’t usually talk or anything but are you okay?” Even his voice is dreamy but confusion draws on your face because you felt fine; nervous, like you were around any guy you thought was cute, but fine. Clark elaborates at your expression,

“Y’know because of what happened at the party last-”, that seems to jog your memory enough to snap you out of it, eyebrows shooting up as dread overtakes over your face. You whip your head around, making sure there’s no witnesses when you grab him by his sweaty shirt, dragging him all the way behind the bleachers as you slam him against the metal. Clark is caught so off guard that he just lets it happen; lets the pretty thing half his size drag him as you pleased. Your eyes shift as you glare up at him.

You’re positive he’s talking about your little freak out with close proximity guy, the one that made you leave the party completely; walking so fast you nearly burned a trail in the carpet. Heart pounding, you start to spiral.

He wasn’t supposed to see that. He- like everyone else- was supposed to be too drunk to notice anything.

Your nose scrunches, full lips curling in a snarl. “I swear if you say anything to anyone-!” You’re threatening him so fast, Clark falters, raising his hands in defense, debilitating blue eyes widening as he starts to plead his case.

“No no-! I didn’t! I-“, He stutters at your harsh gaze, the feel of your hands soaking through his shirt, warming his chest. He needs to hurry up and explain himself before you start disliking him. “I was just worried! Whenever I see you and a guy, even if you act interested-“, he rushes out, panting as he talks even faster, “the second they get too close you look like you’ll vomit!” Your hostility melts into shock and even more confusion and you let go of his shirt, stepping back as you study him, his words stuck in your mind.

“How..? Are you- you’ve been paying that close attention to me? When do you even see me?” You’re at such a loss for words that it’s hard to string them together to properly question him.

“…I”, he swallows harshly, “I always see you.” It’s pure adrenaline that motors his mouth- he thought he was over the time when lovely faced girls made him nervous but you were unexpectedly feisty. It lit something tingly in him. Your eyes search his face and he spills. “I see how you flirt but you’re sarcastic too. Everyone is so taken by your pretty that they don’t even notice, they just call it ‘wit”, he manages to catch his breath enough to sound less panicked now that you look like you won’t kill him, “I see how even though you’re a flyer, you hate heights-”

“H-how-?”

“Your right leg shakes when they lift you, no matter how stable your base is.” Your mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out, heart racing when his voice goes soft,

“But what I’m saying is- so what that you’re not really what you give off? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. ‘Jus curious why you think it is…”, he blinks those long lashes at you and you find yourself explaining the tale of your sordid social past.

By the end of it he’s stunned speechless.

You? Just how bad was your awkward phase for nobody to be interested in you? Wait so that also probably meant that-

“You’re a virgin?!”

You slap your hands over his mouth with a speed equal to his own, face flushed as you shush him, hissing in a low whisper.

“Jesus Chri- shut up! Are you trying to tell the entire campus?!!” You let out another heavy sigh.

“…yes, I am”. You let your hands fall to the side, refusing to look at him while he’s trying to process; silence filling the space between you. You’ve accepted that your ego will never recover from the most gorgeous being on the planet knowing about all your…truths. That you looked and acted the part of a vixen just to hide that you secretly weren’t.

“…so you’ve never done anyt-”,

“No.”

Well then.

You can’t take another long drag of awkward silence, turning to face the boy who knew you probably more than anyone else did.

“Look- I would’ve loved to remedy this but I-”

“Can’t stomach whenever a guy gets too close due to previous deep rooted societal wrought insecurities…” Bingo.

“Well for what it’s worth,” he gives you one of his disarming grins and a flush creeps up your neck; warming your ears, “I think you’re doing fine now.” You snap your head down to see that you two are standing fairly close or at least closer than you normally allow and you don’t have that itch to get him as far away from you as possible. That’s when you get the idea that- “Oh my god! You can help me get over my thing! This is perfect!”! You’re practically vibrating with glee, excited to finally have all your firsts without that looming of touch related dread haunting you. Clark however is swarmed with various images of him “helping” you and can’t keep his ears from reddening at all the different scenarios where he’d be required to be close to you and begins to stutter.

“W-well, I wa- not that I-! I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean w-we-”, you cut him off before he can weasel out of it, eyebrows creasing in frustration. You unconsciously step closer, your sweet smell bathes his senses as he stares you down, trying not to gulp too hard. “Please, Clark?”, you start and he swallows harshly at how his name sounds in that whiny tone from your lips.

“It can’t be anyone else because you’re the only one who knows! We’re not close now but we could be-“, and the double meaning makes him tune out completely as he only watches your plump lips move; not even registering the sound coming from them. He was thankful you didn’t ask him why he watched you so closely because the answer was one he wasn’t ready to even admit to himself.

Your lips stop moving after a while and them paired with your begging doe eyes make him cave, Clark nodding in hopeless defeat. He was supposed to be over the influence of pretty girls.

“S’okay, I’ll help you out. Your secret’s safe with me.” The corner of his mouth tilts up in a lopsided smile that was somehow both attractive but made you feel safe and you smile shyly back. You were nervous but you know Clark is a good guy- reckless as hell with his charms- but a good guy. What could go wrong?

•

•

•

Standing in the middle of your dorm room with your arms wound tight around yourself is when you find out that alot can go wrong.

Clark came over and you two came up with a starting plan that seemed the easiest: talk and slowly close the distance between you two until he was touching and looking at you without you getting uncomfortable or pushing him away. It sounded simple enough at first only…. you severely underestimated how you’d react to Clark. The way his deep mellow voice sounded in your ears, how he always held such steady eye contact as he moved towards you, that heavenly jawline tilting when he’d think too long. Already, Clark was big from afar but up close he was even bigger. Strong arms and broad shoulders; chest so thick it was noticeable through his shirt. You were used to others falling at your feet but Clark stood fine and it affected you in ways you didn’t prepare to deal with, so you tried to do what you always did- ignore it.

Matching Clark’s light conversation as you two eventually get more comfortable, gradually gravitating towards each other with slow short steps. The air shifts when you exhale and the breath tickles his chest. This is when you normally get squeamish but you merely hesitate for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and pushing yourself by letting him keep his distance.

His hand twitch and he shuffles a bit closer, biceps flexing as he reaches out, resting his hands on your shoulders; your conversation quiets as he stares at you with perfectly blue lidded eyes and then you feel the stirrings of restlessness under your skin. That impeding urge to get away. Despite the way you feel, the slow atmosphere helps you tremendously to not pull away but your pulse spikes all the same. His hands felt nice. You take another deep breath as you try to come to terms with what you were feeling.

Clark was a guy.

A guy who was standing in your bubble, touching you- looking at you.

A million emotions fly across your face at record speed and Clark doesn’t move any more for the next couple minutes. No, he waits for you; large rough palms warm on your bare shoulders while his pinky idly messes with the thin strap of your top. Your skin was soft. The heavy rise and fall of your chest has him focusing on you more intensely, trying to get a read on how you felt until you break the silence with a shaky exhale.

“We can keep going- you can keep touching me.” He knows you don’t mean it that way but his ears burn anyways as he nods. Taking a second to think before taking his hands off you to take yours, ignoring your big eyes look as he places your hands around his waist- inevitably moving closer and his voice softens like he’ll frighten you away if he were to speak any louder.

“You can touch me too. Promise I don’t mind…this is for you after all.” You suppress a whine because being so close was already hard with you fighting every instinct yelling at you to get gone and go somewhere where nobody could comprehend you but now with Clark staring at you like that, it was even harder. Your eyes flick about the room as you flatten your palms more against his back, mentally rolling your eyes back at how his muscles feel. You don’t even realize you’re biting your lip but Clark does, instantly alert the second he felt your small hands nervously press against him, his eyes zeroed in on the swollen skin dipping under the pressure of your teeth. He feels bad because while he was supposed to be helping you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy you were being so shy but hardheaded enough to build up the grit to go for what scared you because you wanted it.

Without taking his eyes off your face, he rubs his hands up to your neck, making you squeak before smoothing them back down your shoulders; repeating the motions with a gentle hum.

The room feels hot- you felt hot and jittery but it’s too much. Unable to keep the waves at bay, goosebumps trickle over your skin and your eyes scrunch in panic as your breathing picks up. He was close. Close and touching you. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes because you know when you do, you’ll be naked for all to see and you scream.

“Stop!”

Nobody can see you-nobody’s supposed to be seeing you, the girl who was never even chose last as you were overlooked entirely no matter how badly you wanted to reach out. Maybe that’s what started your fear. Maybe you were scared of losing experiences because of rejection.

Clark doesn’t move away but he isn’t touching you anymore and you aren’t touching him as your hands fly to the sides of your head, trying to calm yourself down and guilt pours over him. He wants to hug you; comfort you but he knows that pulling you against him in a hug will only worsen things right now so he waits. Closing his eyes to help you feel at ease, listening closely to the beat of your heart until your breaths quiet and he hears it fluctuate back to normal. He keeps his eyes closed until he feels your small trembling hands slide back around him and instead of putting his hands on your shoulders, he moves his arms around them; resting them against your back but not pulling you in yet. It’s quiet besides the hushed sounds of him cooing at you and your breathing. The air now has an underlying current and you shift in his heavy arms, inhaling deeply as you finally look up at his face. Shyly, you cut the silence; voice soft as how you feel.

“…you can open your eyes now..” Clark feels his own heart speed up before he responds, low tone matching yours and electricity hits you when it clicks. This is intimate.

“Are you okay? We can stop and try again some other time; I don’t wanna upset-,”

“I want you to look at me.”

His eyes pop open at your command, peering down at you in such a way that your breath catches; anxiousness rising up you again but you stay right where you are. Willing yourself to embrace the exposed way he makes you feel.

Under the heat of his stare it’s like he’s seeing everything you’ve ever hid or been but his hold is steady enough to let you know he’s there with you and he’s not going anywhere. You still feel naked but more than that, you feel safe. Comfortable enough to not shy away from his warmth, you take another breath; looking up at him through your lashes- it makes his head fuzzy.

His eyes shift from their usual blue to the shade of the sea after a storm and you’re swept away, logic going with you as you slowly glide your hands up his sides to his where his arms hold you. Feeling every dip and curve of his strong build until you reach his hands, repositioning them around your lower back. You move closer but because you two were already standing so close- your chests touch and Clark stops breathing. The soft swell of your breasts move against his body with your every inhale and he finds his senses filled with you.

Your gaze is torn away when you turn your head, looking down as you drop against his chest. Arms looping around him making his own instinctively curl around you, holding you tight to the firm but soft muscle of his chest. You both pause for a few minutes- waiting for the urgent panic but it never comes. Instead, you melt into him with a relieved sigh, warm breath bleeding into his shirt. You two were officially hugging.

And you were in heaven.

You never knew close contact with the opposite gender could be so delightful. Clark was just so big and warm and smelled so good, you bury your face into the meat of his pec almost deliriously, sighing happily. Fuck, you really had been missing out. His arms are firm and heavy against your back, effectively locking you against him. The endorphin rush hitting you has you practically purring; the sounds of your bliss vibrating Clark’s chest and he smiles, letting you get your fix as he enjoys the way you fit into his arms.

Unsurprisingly, you two stay like that for a while. Fitted against each other in the silence of your cozy bedroom. He sees the top of your head move and he’s suddenly looking into your eyes, pupils blown so wide that your eyes are black. Clark has to bite his lip to keep from smiling at how cute you look. Your eyes flit down to his mouth to see the peek of his fangs that always show, letting out a small breathy ‘oh’ when you do. You’re still reeling in all the best ways as you rest your chin against his chest, unabashedly looking at his handsome face.

Clark raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the phantom hearts in your eyes and the way your small feet are standing on top of his larger ones while you make no attempt to separate your bodies, completely content with his proximity. He likes you so he likes your closeness and he’s even more elated that you seem to like him being so close too. Speaking lowly so he doesn’t disturb you, he checks if you’re still on the planet with him.

“This okay, sweetheart? Y’enjoying yourself?” The petname slips out but you don’t move or rush to correct him as your blood simmers, a numbingly pleasant heat washing over you so strong it’s hard to think. Running your hands in a slow caress up his back, you feel the muscles flex as his arm twitches and a smile grows on your face as you blink dumbly- brain currently taking a break, you mumble sweetly,

“Mmhm, yeah. Never better.”

And it’s true. You’ve never felt this safe, this free with anyone that wasn’t immediate family or your best girl friends. He was touching you and seeing you but you didn’t care because you knew whatever he was seeing and touching, was safe as it would ever be with him.

Clark huffs out a laugh at your belated response, moving one of his hands in a warm caress up your back, feeling you shiver and he bites his lip again. You were so alluring without even having to try and he breathes to reign himself in since he was currently the first and only to have you melting like this from a hug alone. If a hug got you like this he could only imagine how beautifully you’d respond to-

“Um, C-Clark?” Your soft voice brings him back as he hums, flicking his eyes down lazily at you.

“Yeah, baby?” Your sweet little gasp makes him realize that he just called you another nickname but you don’t seem to mind, flustering prettily in his arms. He leans down closer to your face, only to hear you better, eyes patient as he stares at you.

“I know this is supposed to be about me but how do you feel? You’ve been so good with me..I just wanna make sure you’re okay too.” Clark smiles, moved that you’re worrying about him even with all his experience.

“Yeah I feel good but how about you? Want me to let go or we can try something different?” He would’ve asked if you wanted to stop but he was going off your body language and it was telling him distance was the last thing you wanted and he was right as you shook your head before resting your chin back into his chest, looking up at him with those pupil eclipsed doe eyes.

“I feel great but…”, your voice gets smaller as it takes on an almost needy tone before stopping altogether. You snap your face back into his chest and he’s even more curious to get it out of you but you just can’t say it.

“You really don’t need to be embarrassed. Clothed or naked, we all start somewhere”, he whispers against the top of your head, stroking your back soothingly as you try to talk yourself into asking him before you chicken out, “with me you can start wherever you want and you know I’ll never tell. Or make fun of you..”,

His voice is tender with warmness and it turns your reservations to raindrops as you look back into his eyes. Steeling your nerve, you ground yourself with the way you feel in another persons arms for the first time in your life- his arms and decide to go for it.

“You said- we can try something different?” Your heart begins to race again as Clark’s starts to pound. He can’t keep the heat out of eyes as he returns your stare, nodding.

“Yeah. We can do whatever you want.” His breath wafts across your face, forehead resting against yours and the rate at which you find yourself needing him- scares you. You’ve been depraved of this kind of contact to the point of fear since forever but now…

“Then…can we-“, you blink rapidly, not wanting to verbalize it but not wanting to go without even more.

“Can we kiss please?”

Clark has to shut his eyes. You looked so sweet, felt so soft and even though you couldn’t keep the neediness from seeping into your words, you still asked so politely. Blood rushes through his ears as he feels a familiar stirring in his groin, taking a deep breath because it wouldn’t do for him to lose control now, his voice is heady with pure want when he answers,

“F’course. I’d love to kiss, baby.”

Large hands settle around your waist as you get pulled completely flush to him, legs almost intertwining while your pelvises touch; bodies glued together. The languid heat of arousal thrums through you, making your head spin.

Your lips part when Clark presses his forehead more firmly against yours, lighting you from the inside out when he dips his neck to slot his open mouth over yours.

Immediately your chest burns, heart feeling like each pump is gasoline, fueling the fire hes started in you. Clark’s full lips slide against yours, alternating between suckling at your top lip then bottom lip slowly, coaxing you to follow his lead, groaning his approval and the sound turns you up as you press yourself harder against his body. You feel so good you’re thrumming- heat steadily pulsing through you.

Your heads move from how hard you’re kissing, slick sounds coming from your mouths intensifying as you get rougher, delicious shivers all up your spine. Clark presses his lips fully against yours, moving them open wider with his own, hot breaths mingling as he licks hotly against the opening of your mouth. A bolt of pleasure hits you so hard that you gasp, wrenching your mouth off his as you moan- the needy little thing so whiny it makes his cock fatten in his pants as you pant against each others lips. Fuck. He can smell how wet you are. The sweet, heady smell makes his mouth water with him tossing shame clean out the window.

“Can I put my tongue in your mouth? Please, pretty girl?” You move your arms around his neck to get as close as possible, nodding desperately.

“God, yes-” His mouth is back to consuming yours before you can finish. Opening your lips with the force of his swollen ones, he sucks your bottom lip before lapping his tongue into your mouth. You twitch in his hold, even more turned on when he doesn’t have to move to keep your squirming in place, casual show of strength making you lightheaded as he swallows your moans. Wet smacks fill the air, your grip on him tightening when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. You get wetter and he can tell, growling in pleasure as he suddenly lifts you; your legs locking around his waist as he uses his hold on yours to grind you against him. The result is instantaneous. You melt like cotton candy, chest shaking against his from your pleasured moans as your shared spit wets your lips. Still aware of the fact that you need to breathe, Clark pulls away with a suck of your lips- staring at you hungrily with dark eyes.

He can’t even remember when he picked you up but the tiny undulations of your hips let him know it was a welcome decision. You looked so good. Lips puffy n slick, doe eyes teary and blown out, wet as fuck with your hard nipples poking through your top…you could ask him for every one of Saturns rings and he’d get them for you.

Clark takes a deep lungful of your tantalizing scent before he checks on you again.

“How was that, sweetheart? Y’first kiss right?” You nod, cupping his face. You can’t help the way you smooch more pecks onto his pink lips, aching as you answer.

“It was so good”, you drag your nose down his jaw; kissing his ear as you whisper into it, “you feel so good, Clark..”. You have him completely hard at this point, thick and fat as his tip oozes pre when you start to whine. He almost feels bad that you’ve waited so long, being so pent up wasn’t healthy and you deserved to feel good everyday.

“What’s wrong baby?” The low timbre of his voice makes your pulse skyrocket, causing you to absolutely dissolve against him, hips twitching as he helped you rub yourself on him.

“I-I need..-“, you let out a soft cry and he quickly soothes you. Kissing you deeply before pulling away, licking his lips of your taste as he verbalizes exactly what you need.

“Need to cum?”

The heat in your chest blooms up to your face as you nod, suddenly growing shy but still comfortable. You purr as Clark presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, looking at you with pretty lidded eyes.

“Would it be okay if I made you cum princess?”

The utterly wrecked moan that comes out of your mouth has goosebumps scattering up his arms, holding you tighter as you nod vigorously.

“I need words baby”, he whispers. Giving you another kiss to tempt you and it works. He was too irresistible and he knew it.

“Yeah, you can make me cum Clark.” And with that he carries you over to your bed, laying you on the plushness as he takes over your mouth again with a hungry groan, your hands touching everywhere until he pulls away- fangs on display as he smiles making fire sweep through your veins.

Massaging your legs, he rises on his knees- taking off his shirt as your mind checks out from how hot he is, shifting restlessly as the ache in your pussy throbs with the best pain. Whining his name, Clark cooes at you; big hands moving to pull your clothes off. Your nerves are going haywire but you need this- need him to make you feel things, lifting your hips to help him slide your shorts and underwear off, spreading your legs as you let him get a good look at your messy wet hole twitching in need.

Clark swears, hooking his hands under your knees and bending them towards your chest. Exposing you more as he licks his lips, keeping his eyes glued to your cunt.

“Atta girl, jus’ lay there nice n pretty and I’ll give you what you need..”

Part ✌🏽…

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Zayne x Reader x Yandere!Caleb

Arts cre to artist

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world overrun by monstrous creatures known as Wanderers, you are one of the last remaining scientists, dedicating your life to preserving humanity. Using cutting-edge biotechnology, you create Caleb and Zayne—two highly advanced humanoid beings designed to assist you in fighting the Wanderer threat. You implant them with memories of being your childhood friends to ensure they feel loyalty, trust, and camaraderie toward you. Caleb is the reliable and determined pilot, wielding gravity-based powers, while Zayne is the calm and resourceful medic, capable of manipulating ice.

The morning sun streamed through the reinforced windows of your lab as the smell of something savory wafted in, pulling you out of your deep focus. You looked up from the maze of wires and circuits sprawled across your workstation just in time to see Caleb entering, balancing a steaming plate in one hand. His dark hair was slightly damp, probably from his morning workout, and his signature confident grin was firmly in place.

“You didn’t eat again, did you?” he said, setting the plate down in front of you.

You blinked at the food—a plate of perfectly scrambled eggs, toast, and even a small bowl of fresh-cut fruit. “Wait… when did you have time to make this?”

“Right after fixing that mess of a ventilation system in the south wing” he replied, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You gave him a wry smile. “You know, you’re starting to sound more like a housekeeper than a pilot.”

“And you’re starting to sound like someone who’s about to faint from hunger” Caleb shot back, gesturing toward the food. “Now eat before I make it a command.”

Reluctantly, you put down your tools and took a bite. It was annoyingly good. You mumbled between mouthfuls, “You’re too good at this. What kind of pilot cooks this well?”

“The kind that has to make up for the genius who forgets to eat.” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

Before you could retort, Zayne walked in, clipboard in hand, his icy-blue eyes immediately narrowing at the sight of Caleb and his cooking.

“What’s this?” Zayne asked, gesturing to the plate. “Breakfast in bed? How domestic of you, Caleb.”

“Jealous, Doc?” Caleb quipped without missing a beat.

Zayne’s gaze shifted to you. “You really let him boss you around like this?”

“I didn’t let him,” you said, gesturing to the food with your fork. “But I’m not complaining. He’s saving me time.”

Zayne sighed, placing his clipboard on the counter. “You know, if you actually managed your schedule better, you wouldn’t need someone to babysit you.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “And if you lightened up, maybe people wouldn’t freeze the second you walk into a room.”

“Caleb. Zayne.” You set your fork down and gave them both a pointed look. “Can we not do this every time we’re in the same room?”

Caleb smirked but didn’t push further, and Zayne gave a small huff before grabbing a tablet to check mission reports. Despite their constant bickering, there was an undeniable ease to their presence, like two opposing forces that somehow balanced each other out.

You looked between them, a small smile tugging at your lips. No matter how chaotic they were, they were your family—the people you could always count on, even in the darkest of times. ----- The mission had gone horribly wrong. Wanderers ambushed you in the dead of night, forcing Caleb and Zayne into combat. Caleb slammed one creature into the ground with a gravitational pulse, his jaw tight as he yelled “Get behind me!”

Zayne’s breath misted in the air as frost spread from his fingertips, freezing a group of Wanderers in place. “How about you stop barking orders and actually focus on not dying?” he snapped, his voice sharper than usual.

“I am focusing!” Caleb retorted, his gravitational barrier flickering as the strain mounted.

Realizing they couldn’t hold out much longer, you made a split-second decision. Pulling out a remote device, you activated the override. Both Caleb and Zayne froze mid-action, their bodies locking up as their systems shut down.

“I’m sorry” you whispered, dragging them to safety before finishing off the remaining Wanderers yourself.

When they woke up in your lab hours later, the tension was palpable. Caleb sat up first, rubbing his temples. “What… happened? Why couldn’t I move?”

“You shut us down” Zayne said flatly, his tone icy. His sharp gaze pinned you in place. “That override… what else have you been hiding from us?”

You sighed, turning away from their accusing stares. “I had no choice. You both would have died.”

Caleb stood, his expression unreadable. “We’re not just tools, are we? We’re…” His voice faltered, and his hand clenched into a fist. “What are we?”

Zayne crossed his arms, his voice low. “Answer him.”

Taking a deep breath, you faced them. “You’re not tools. You’re not experiments. You’re my creations. I built you to help me save humanity. And I gave you memories—false ones... because I didn’t want you to feel like you were nothing more than machines.”

The silence was deafening. Caleb stared at you, a storm brewing in his eyes. “So… we’re not even human?”

“No.” you admitted softly. “But that doesn’t change what you mean to me. You’re more than just creations. You’re my family.”

Zayne’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained cold. “Family? Is that why you lied to us?”

“I lied to protect you.” you said, your voice firm. “I didn’t want you to feel like you were just tools. You’re not. You’re everything to me.”

In the days that followed, Caleb and Zayne’s behavior shifted. Caleb became more protective, shadowing you during missions and watching you with a guarded intensity. Zayne, meanwhile, grew more reserved, throwing himself into his work but keeping a careful eye on you.

One evening, as you worked late in the lab, Caleb sat nearby, idly fiddling with a gadget. “You should let me help you more.” he said suddenly.

“You already help plenty.” you replied without looking up.

“Not enough.” he muttered. “If something happened to you…”

You looked up, surprised at the vulnerability in his voice. “Caleb, nothing’s going to happen to me. I have you and Zayne, remember?”

He nodded but didn’t look convinced. “Yeah. You have us.”

Later that night, Zayne entered the lab, finding you asleep at your desk. Shaking his head, he draped a blanket over your shoulders and adjusted the room’s temperature to keep you comfortable. “She pushes herself too hard” he murmured, his icy tone melting for just a moment.

“Don’t we all?” Caleb’s voice came from the doorway.

Zayne glanced at him but didn’t respond. Instead, he sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it… she needs both of us.”

Caleb crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “Yeah. She does.”

The city was under siege, and the Wanderer threat was greater than ever. Caleb, Zayne, and you stood side by side, ready to face the horde.

“Stay close to me” Caleb said, his gravitational field already forming.

Zayne rolled his eyes but smirked. “Protect her all you want, but don’t get in my way.”

You placed a hand on both their shoulders, your voice steady. “No fighting. Not now. We do this together.”

For the first time, they exchanged a glance of mutual understanding.

As the battle raged, the three of you worked in perfect sync. Caleb’s gravity crushed waves of Wanderers, while Zayne froze others in their tracks. You enhanced their powers, amplifying Caleb’s field to cover the entire city and super charging Zayne’s ice to create massive barriers.

When the last Wanderer fell, the three of you stood together, battered but victorious. Caleb offered you a tired smile. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

Zayne chuckled, his breath misting in the cold air. “For once, I agree with him.”

You smiled, tears in your eyes. “We always have.”

As the world began to heal, so did your bond with Caleb and Zayne. They accepted their origins and found solace in their roles—not as tools, but as your partners and family. Though their playful rivalry remained, it was no longer tinged with bitterness.

----- Life had been peaceful in the months following the defeat of the Wanderers. The lab had transformed into a hub of innovation, with Caleb and Zayne lending their unique talents to assist you in rebuilding technology for humanity. Despite the occasional bickering between them, a quiet harmony had settled over the three of you.

That peace, however, was shattered the day an unexpected visitor appeared at your doorstep.

You were calibrating a new piece of equipment when the lab’s security system chimed, signaling an incoming guest. Caleb, who had been fixing a damaged drone nearby, frowned and stood immediately.

“Expecting someone?” he asked, tension creeping into his voice.

“No” you said, confused, wiping your hands on a cloth as you walked to the door.

The man standing outside was someone you hadn’t seen in years. Dr. Marcus Vell, a former colleague from your days as a junior scientist. His slicked-back gray hair and sharp suit gave him an air of authority, but there was something unsettling in his smile.

“Y/N!” he said warmly, stepping forward as you opened the door. “It’s been too long.”

“Marcus?” you said, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard about your success” he said, glancing around the lab with thinly veiled interest. “I must say, I always knew you’d surpass the rest of us. Your creations…” His eyes flicked to Caleb and Zayne, lingering a little too long. “…are remarkable.”

Zayne, standing in the corner, crossed his arms, his icy gaze fixed on Marcus. Caleb moved closer to your side, his posture protective.

“Thanks, but I’m pretty busy.” you said, trying to keep the interaction short.

Marcus chuckled, unbothered by the cold reception. “Of course. I won’t take much of your time. I’m here with an offer. Humanity needs minds like yours—truly gifted ones. Come work with me. Together, we could rebuild this world far more efficiently.”

You hesitated, sensing the hidden implications in his words. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m happy where I am.”

His smile faltered slightly, and a flicker of something darker crossed his face. “Don’t be so hasty. You’ve barely heard what I have to offer.”

Caleb stepped forward, his expression hard. “She already said no. You heard her.”

Marcus glanced at him, his smile sharpening. “Ah, the pilot. A fine creation. But let’s not forget who’s really in charge here.”

Before Caleb could respond, you held up a hand. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Marcus.”

Marcus straightened his suit, his eyes lingering on you. “Very well. But consider this—talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted in obscurity. I’ll be in touch.”

As he walked out, Zayne’s voice cut through the silence. “I don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I” Caleb muttered.

You sighed, brushing it off. “It’s fine. He’s just an old colleague trying to stir up trouble. Forget about him.”

But Caleb and Zayne exchanged a look—one that spoke volumes.

Later that night, while you were asleep, Caleb and Zayne made their move.

“He’s not going to stop” Caleb said, his voice low as he paced the dimly lit lab.

Zayne, seated at a console, typed rapidly, pulling up information on Marcus. “Agreed. He’s been digging into her work for months. I found encrypted correspondence with other labs—he’s trying to recruit people to take her away.”

Caleb clenched his fists. “Then we stop him. Quietly.”

Zayne looked up, meeting Caleb’s gaze. “For once, we’re on the same page.”

Two days later, Marcus Vell vanished.

You didn’t notice at first, too absorbed in your work to realize he hadn’t “followed up” as he promised. When you eventually thought of him again, Zayne was the one to casually dismiss your concerns.

“Marcus?” he said, adjusting his glasses. “I heard he left the region. Something about funding issues.”

“Really?” you asked, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

Caleb chimed in, leaning against the counter. “People like him are all talk. He probably realized you weren’t interested and gave up.”

You nodded slowly, still feeling a vague unease. “I guess. Well, good riddance.”

Caleb and Zayne shared a brief glance behind your back, the unspoken agreement between them crystal clear. Marcus was no longer a threat.

A week later, Caleb handed you a plate of food while Zayne adjusted the cooling system for your new project.

“Thanks” you said with a smile, taking the plate. “You two have been unusually cooperative lately. Should I be worried?”

“Cooperative?” Caleb grinned. “We’re just that good.”

Zayne gave a small shrug, his lips curving into a rare smile. “Sometimes, we have the same priorities.”

You tilted your head, sensing an undertone you couldn’t quite place. But whatever it was, you trusted them. After all, they’d proven time and again that they would do anything to protect you—even if you didn’t always know the lengths they’d go to.

As you turned back to your work, Caleb and Zayne exchanged a small, knowing smirk. They didn’t need your gratitude. Keeping you safe was reward enough.

----- Bonus: The Great Dinner Standoff It had been a long day of work, and you were looking forward to a relaxing dinner. Caleb had volunteered to cook, which usually meant something delicious but overly ambitious. When you entered the dining area, the smell of roasted vegetables filled the air.

Caleb turned from the stove, flashing you a proud grin. “Dinner’s ready. I made roasted carrots with honey glaze, some chicken, and mashed potatoes. Pretty fancy, huh?”

Your mouth watered at the sight of the golden carrots on the table. “It smells amazing. Thanks, Caleb!”

Zayne appeared in the doorway, pausing mid-step as his eyes landed on the carrots. His face immediately darkened. “Carrots? Really?”

Caleb smirked, clearly enjoying Zayne’s reaction. “What’s wrong, Doc? Too sophisticated for your picky palate?”

Zayne ignored him, stepping into the room with a tray of his own. “I made something, too.”

You blinked in surprise. “Wait, you cooked?”

Zayne set the tray on the table, revealing a dish of cilantro-lime rice. “I thought I’d contribute.”

The moment Caleb saw the cilantro, his expression soured. “Cilantro? Seriously?”

Zayne’s lips twitched into a subtle smirk. “Oh, I know. Just thought it would balance out your… overly sweet carrots.”

Caleb glared at him. “You’re sabotaging dinner.”

“Sabotaging?” Zayne asked innocently, taking a seat. “I’m expanding the flavor profile.”

You groaned, sitting down between them. “Can we have one meal without a fight?”

Caleb pointed his fork at Zayne. “Tell him that. He’s the one ruining perfectly good food.”

Zayne calmly spooned some cilantro rice onto his plate. “I could say the same about your poor excuse for a vegetable.”

You sighed, grabbing a little of both dishes and taking a bite. The carrots were sweet and perfectly cooked, and the cilantro rice had a refreshing zest. “Honestly? They’re both great. You two should just appreciate each other’s cooking.”

Caleb muttered something under his breath but started eating, avoiding the rice entirely. Zayne, for his part, made a show of pushing the carrots to the edge of his plate.

By the end of the meal, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite their endless bickering, you knew they both cared in their own strange ways.

[gilbertscurls]

Pillow Wall ➵ Chris Sturniolo

inspired by

The night had been a blur of whispered conversations, laughter, and movie marathons. You and Chris had always been close, but this—this was new. The boundary between your friendship and something more had been blurring for a while now, but neither of you had dared to acknowledge it.

You sat on Chris' bed, surrounded by an avalanche of blankets and pillows. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes darting over to Chris, who was scrolling through Netflix absentmindedly. You were doing your best to ignore the awkward tension that had settled between you the moment you realized the night had gotten late—too late for you to drive home.

“Guess we’re stuck with the classic 'two friends sharing a bed' dilemma,” Chris joked, but there was a nervous edge to his voice. He tossed the remote aside, letting it land somewhere among the chaos of pillows.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to cross any lines, huh?”

Chris smirked, grabbing one of the pillows and dropping it in the middle of the bed. “Easy solution. We build a wall.”

“A pillow wall?” You raised a brow, but the idea made you grin.

“Exactly,” Chris said, already arranging more pillows between you. “That way, no accidental cuddling or whatever.”

“Ah, yes. Brilliant plan,” you teased, adding a few more pillows to the barrier. The wall grew higher, and when it was done, it was a comically lopsided fortress between you.

“Perfect,” Chris declared, lying back on his side of the bed. “Now we’re safe.”

“Totally safe,” you echoed, lying back as well. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, the silence comfortable, but the awareness of each other’s presence just on the other side of the pillow wall was impossible to ignore.

You both tried your best to sleep, but every time you shifted, you could hear Chris doing the same. It was ridiculous, really, how much space you had in the bed, and yet it still felt impossibly small.

Minutes turned into hours, and at some point, your eyes fluttered shut. You fell into a restless sleep, your thoughts still lingering on Chris—how close you were, how easy it would be to reach across the pillows.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was warmth. More specifically, Chris' warmth. The pillow wall, once so carefully constructed, was now half-destroyed, some pillows having fallen to the floor during the night. And somehow, you had both ended up tangled in each other.

Chris’ arm was draped across your waist, and your head rested against his chest. You blinked, your mind slowly registering the fact that you had both gravitated toward each other in your sleep, despite the supposed “barrier.”

For a second, you thought about pulling away, about untangling yourself before Chris woke up. But something stopped you. Lying there, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of him, felt too right.

Just as you were debating what to do, Chris stirred, his grip on you tightening slightly as he woke. He froze for a moment, clearly realizing what had happened, and then he groaned softly, half-amused, half-embarrassed.

“So much for the pillow wall,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

You smiled, your face still pressed against his chest. “Yeah, it didn’t work out too well, huh?”

He chuckled softly, but neither of you moved. The awkwardness from the night before had disappeared, replaced by something softer—something neither of you had the words for yet.

“You comfortable?” he asked after a moment, his voice gentler than you were used to hearing from him.

You nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” he said, his breath warm against the top of your head. “I’m good.”

You lay there in silence for a little while longer, neither of you feeling the need to break away. Maybe you’d talk about it later—what this meant, what it might turn into—but for now, you were content just being close, pillow wall forgotten.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06

[ervotica]

Inspired by the moment in ACOSF when it’s mentioned Cassian likes physical contact. A fic where reader and cassian are besties and hanging all touchy, maybe reader is braiding his hair and the mating bond snaps.

Kindly requested to be tagged if written/published.

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing; cassian x fem!reader

warnings; porn with plot, basically just smut tbh but smut with FEELS (the best kind), p in v, oral (f!receiving), cassian is a sexy bitch

word count; 2.4k

a/n; dooo we want a p2 (and to find out what reader has planned...) i'm planning one in my head so if you guys are interested please let me know! @bxm-1012 enjoy!

Cassian shows love through touch- whether that be an affectionate squeeze, a kiss on the forehead or a playful shove; it's how he expresses love for the people around him.

You often take the brunt of this, being his best friend. You walk the streets of Velaris arm in arm, squeeze into one armchair that really isn't built to hold even Cassian alone, but somehow manages to fit the both of you, fall asleep on top of each other in a heap of skewed limbs after hours of partying and drinking and dancing at Rita's. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

You're really not sure how you didn't see it earlier.

You're lounging in the aforementioned armchair when the bond snaps. Your legs are thrown over the arm and Cassian is settled in the centre, head to your chest as you scratch and tug at his shoulder-length hair, pulling it up into a braid. He tilts his head up, grinning at you through the dark lashes framing his eyes, and the whole world shifts on its axis.

Something stirs to life inside of you, a warmth blooming and spreading and seeping into your every pore; you can feel the way you're tethered to him, the gravitational pull between you.

You go stock still and your lips part in a silent gasp. Cassian's grin grows tenfold.

"You knew?"

"I suspected," he murmurs. He twists his body to face you. "I hoped."

"Oh," you breathe. You can't help it when your hand comes up to trace his cheekbones, the tip of your thumb skimming the bridge of his nose. His eyes fall closed and the bastard tugs on the bond so hard it emits a squeal from you, and you're pressing a palm to the centre of your chest to soothe the entirely unfamiliar feeling.

His mouth opens to break the silence but you're already moving, careening into his chest and burrowing yourself in tight. Your body sags with pure, uninhibited relief.

"You feel the same, then?" he teases.

Your eyes are glassy when you peel your face far enough to meet his stare.

"I always thought I'd have to make peace with it when you found your mate. I'd have to settle for loving you from a distance and that would be enough. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." He softens at the admission- your voice rasping and raw as you lay your feelings bare for him- hooking an arm beneath your own to drag you up his chest until you're nose to nose. "But I guess I can be selfish now, and keep you to myself," you whisper.

"Mm," he purrs, and the sound turns your core molten. "I like the sound of that."

He doesn't waste any more time before his mouth is on yours, lips slanting hungrily over your own; you part your lips in submission, granting him access to lick into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. He rises to tower over you until you're flattened against the curve of the chair, and plants his hands either side of your head to cage you in. His wings flare where they'd been previously tucked against his back. Your body goes involuntarily soft and pliable, heat prickling under your skin at his every touch. Instinct takes over- it's as if it's muscle memory. Giving yourself to him is as easy as breathing.

Your head swims at the feel of his body under your roaming hands, his scent that seems to shift from affection to something deeply primal and dominating. You urge him closer with a whine and a pathetic tug at his t-shirt. How has this man reduced you to a mess with no more than a kiss?

"Cass-" you gasp when his head turns and his mouth latches onto the sensitive spot beneath your ear; teeth sink into flesh and you have to bite your lip to conceal a wanton moan. "We-we should go somewhere... more private."

"Oh, don't stop on our account," comes Rhysand's amused drawl through the closed door. "We're vacating the premises as we speak."

A growl rips through Cassian and searing, unyielding need barrels to your core and pools there; it takes every ounce of willpower to not rut your hips against him and demand his clothes off that very instant.

"Sorry!" you squeak; as quickly as the word leaves your mouth, Cassian's smothering it with another eager kiss. You lose any semblance of control you were clinging to, a moan dragging its way from your chest and into his waiting mouth. A string of saliva stretches and bows between you when he lifts his head to look at your face.

"My mate," he purrs. "My beautiful mate."

Your eyes cloud when you gaze at him through half-lids, reaching down to grab the thick length of him and squeeze. His hips grind into your palm, something deep and almost terrifying loosing from the depths of his chest. It only serves to make your cunt drool.

"Wicked thing," he gasps. "Spiteful female."

You grin, wide and unabashed, before your hands grapple for purchase to tear at his clothes until his toned abdomen is revealed to you; you want to lick every inch of him.

"Desperate little creature, aren’t you?" he teases.

"Shut up!"

His eyes roll when you at last wrench his pants and underwear down his thick thighs, freeing his cock, hard and weeping and begging for your touch.

"Who’s desperate now?" Your brow quirks.

He echoes your sentiments, cadence deep and gravelly with lust. "Shut up."

Your snarking comments seem to loosen the tether he’s kept on his desire to hold you down and have his way with you, and you gasp when thick, calloused fingers curl their way around your windpipe; his fingertips are bruising against your jaw, tipping your head back to bare your soft throat for him. You go boneless in his grasp, eager to take whatever he gives you at whatever pace.

"So you do know how to behave," he muses, free hand coming between your bodies to paw at your clothes until they come away in ribbons, torn from your form and leaving you bare before him.

The first inch of him inside of you is a delicious stretch; your cunt parts and flares to make room for him. He pauses, and when he finds nothing but pure, unadulterated lust in your blown out pupils, he gives you the rest.

Slowly, agonisingly, he drags it out; moaning praises fill your ears as he grants you inch after inch of him until he's seated firmly to the hilt. His fingers are bound to leave bruises where they're curled around your waist.

You whine, fingernails digging cruelly into his sides. He’s so deep you’re sure you can feel him in your throat.

"Cassian."

"Fuck, sweet girl," he hisses. "Usually I’d take my time with you, work you up first until you’re crying. But I need you right now."

The breath is punched from your lungs as he sets a punishing pace; your spine curves and moulds to the arm of the chair when Cassian’s hands venture lower to cup the swells of your breasts. You feel his cock kick up inside of you when he catches sight of your pert nipples, hardening into buds at the exposure of the cool air and the feel of his hands brushing the sensitive beads.

"I’ll get my mouth on you later, baby."

You’d melt at the words if you weren’t already reduced to nothing more than mush from his dick alone. The thick girth of him splits you wide, nestling deep against spots you have yet to discover, pushing you further towards a precipice you’re almost terrified of— you’ve never experienced pleasure like this, to this degree. The insurmountable, unfathomable pressure builds until you’re coming with a scream, your body trembling around his own, cunt clamping down around him to suck him in further.

"There’s my girl," he coos, slowing inside of you to brush away the hair sticking to your slick face. "You’re perfect.”

You whine and cant your hips downward to rock yourself onto his cock, and the bellow that rips through him would have you flushing white-hot under any other circumstances; you’re too far gone to care, a shaking hand splaying against the ridges of his wing until he shudders under your touch. You moan at the sight.

"Now that’s just mean, baby."

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, gaze flitting up to meet his own with a coy smile. He brushes a slow line with his knuckles against your cheekbone— a loving gesture that has your heart clenching as well as your pussy.

"I love you," he says. "I love you so much."

"I love you," you repeat his words as he smears a kiss between your pinched brows. His forehead presses to yours as his hips rut up into your own. Dewiness clings to every inch of your skin and your knuckles bleed of colour where you cling to Cassian.

He brings you to completion four more times before he reaches his own peak, and only when you're reduced to tears beneath him does he crawl the length of your body, lips grazing over the slick skin beneath him until he reaches your cunt once more.

"Cass-" you gasp; your voice comes out a broken, strangled jumble of noise and he grins wolfishly up at you before licking a broad, long stripe from your spasming hole to your clit. Your back arches and you're not sure whether it's towards or away from his touch, but he stops you short when his fingers curl around your ribcage to press you to the plush fabric of the armchair.

"Told you I'd get my mouth on you, didn't I?"

Everything is simultaneously too much and not enough, and you're torn between grinding down into his mouth and shying away. Pleasure licks white-hot up your spine and you writhe against his bruising hold on your hips when the stubble on his chin scratches against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It's red and angry, swollen from Cassian's undivided attention, and it has tears gathering at your waterline once more. Your eyes are glassy and half lidded and he reaches up to brush the tip of his thumb against your cheek, his head never coming up from between your thighs.

Your skin sheens under the soft lights of the living room, sweat beading across the crown of your skull and your temples; you whine and thrash beneath him until your muscles seize and go taut like a bowstring, and pleasure drags you under once again. You're screaming - comes the dazed realisation - and your chest heaves as Cassian works you through it, offering up sweet praises for your orgasm. He smiles as if he hasn't just given you the best sex of your life.

You're utterly limp, boneless in his firm hold when he lifts your body to cradle you to his naked chest. The bridge of his nose presses into the softness of your cheek, skin rubbing against skin where he nuzzles into you.

"That was fucking amazing," you breathe with a laugh. "We should do that again."

"Mm," he hums. "Don't tempt me."

You giggle, pressing your face closer to his; everything about him intoxicates you: his smell, the feel of him under your hands, the dominating rasp of his cadence.

"We have something else to do first."

"What?" he asks, visibly deflating when you push yourself up on wobbling legs; your knees almost give out instantly. You can feel his smirk forming, burning into your naked form.

"Don't. Say. Anything," you grit. Your fingers brush the carpet when you bend to grasp a slip of fabric, and you quirk a brow at your sheepish mate. "My clothes, Cass!"

"I'll get you some more. Anything you want," he immediately says, watching you through half-lidded eyes. The love swirling in his irises almost has you staggering.

"While I appreciate that..." You lean down to press your lips against his, only pulling back to rest your brow against his own. "That doesn't solve my problem right now."

He snorts. "I like you naked. Maybe you should never wear clothes again."

"I'm not sure anyone would approve of that but you." Your smile is devilish. "Maybe I could distract a few High Lords at the next meeting..."

His teeth bare, a low warning growl reverberating through your very bones. You laugh, light and airy, and Cassian's sure you're heaven sent even as you send red-hot fury roiling through his veins.

"I'm sorry," you trill. "That was mean." You snag his own t-shirt, still predominantly in one piece, and slip it over your head; it lays against your mid-thighs and the scent of him cloys in your nostrils. "C'mon." You beckon him up with an outstretched hand, wiggling your fingers until he stands and slips his fingers between your own. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth. "Um, darling?" A pointed gaze has him grinning in return, clasping his chest in faux disappointment.

"I thought you liked me naked!"

"Oh, I do," you muse. "I'd just like to not scar everybody else in this house for life."

"It'd hardly be an unpleasant sight-"

"Yes, but I'm sure everyone would prefer it if I didn't try to kill them for looking." Your smile oozes saccharine, and then you're nudging him towards where his underwear lays discarded on the carpet. He pulls the material up and over his thick thighs and then he's back by your side in an instant; you preen under his adoring touch, pushing into the hands that slip underneath your shirt to grope at your bare skin.

"C'mon," you repeat, begrudgingly denying yourself the pleasure of sinking into his arms for another round of slow sex. "We need to do this first." You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Mate."

[fraugwinska]

FrauGwinskas Wonderful World of Works

Main Fic

on AO3 and tumblr (Alastor x Reader; #RadioGem📻💎)

Quick-Fics and One-Shots (#fraugwinskawrites)

The Nice (Fluff, Angst and everything in between - SFW)

Pour Decisions - Alastor & Reader Al and Reader have a pun-off, with Angel getting increasingly frustrated

Rainy Days - Charlie x Vaggie Just a little fluff between hells most wholesome couple on a rainy, boring day

Pandoras Box - Alastor x Reader Reader wants kisses - Reader gets kisses, whether our mighty overlord likes it or not (Spoiler: He does)

In Sickness and in Health - Alastor x Wife!Reader When his doe is sick, the buck will care for her. (TW: Mention of death by sickness)

Taking the edge off - Husk & Angel & Reader (+ Alastor fluff) A few drinks too much, and Husk finds himself being hug-attacked by Alastors girlfriend. Angel barely helps. Al to the rescue!

You put a spell on me - Alastor x Reader Reader gets caught singing and dancing by herself by Alastor, just to have him join in - both in dancing and in acting out the lyrics *wink wink*. The outcome surprises you both!

Fake it 'til you Make it - Alastor x Reader When Reader is stalked, Alastor - accidentally - has a most genius idea on how to help them. What could go wrong? (Tw: Stalking)

Mother'O Mine (Alastor x Reader) Mothers Day is hard for everyone in the hotel.... but one especially has a hard time. Maybe Reader will be able to help? (Angst/Comfort)

Worth a Shot (Alastor x Reader; Fluff) Reader has everyone in the hotel pictured, collected in a photo album, captured by her lense. All but one. But Alastor vehemently eludes her phone camera. Will a polaroid suffice?

Past and Present (Alastor x Reader) Alastor gives Reader the most perfect birthday present. Birthday One Shot for @alastor-simp

Gravitate (Alastor x Reader) - soon to come

The Naughty (NSFW - Minors DNI!)

Joke's On You - Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Alastor isn't the only prankster at the hotel. You join in on the fun,matching his energy and turning his solo act into a delightful double trouble. But the prank you want to pull on Angel might've gotten a little... out of hand.

We just have Forever (Alastor x Reader; MDNI) Waking up in the radio demons arms is nice. A little make out session before hell expects you back, is even nicer.

Shadow Games (Alastor x Reader x Alastor's Shadow; NSFW) Possessed by and therefore gifted to @hazelfoureyes What's better than getting it on with your favorite deer demon? Getting it on with him AND his ever-present shadow companion.

Pretty Desperate (Vox x Reader; NSFW) Bribe for @macabr3-barbi3 Vox hates Alastors new assistant who just drools over his friend. Too bad for her that he doesn't want her. And too bad for Vox that he doesn't want him either.

Transient Response (Human!Alastor x Reader, NSFW) When the new and only female sound engineer caught the eye of New Orleans favourite Radio host, she turned out to be quite elusive. But Alastor is always game for a little hunt, especially when he traps his prey in his broadcasting booth.

Antidote (Radioapple x Reader, NSFW) While almost everyone is away for a night out in town, back at the hotel Reader accidentally drinks a potent lovedrug. With Alastor and Lucifer beeing the only two remaining demons mannig the building, they have to somehow set aside their differences to help their darling girl.

Battle Scars (Alastor x Reader, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, NSFW) TW: Dark themes, mentions of self-harm and depression After a fight with Alastor, reader fights with herself. At the brink of relapsing into habits she tried to bury, he shows her that that's a battle sha doesn't have to fight alone.

Master of Puppets (Alastor x Witch!Reader, NSFW) Alastor and reader not only share interests in magic, but in each other. With what the little witch already knew and what Alastor taught her, she creates a gift that turns out to be a very naughty piece of witchcraft.

Heavenly (Radioapple, MDNI) - Gift for @minkdelovely Lucifer is tired. Tired of his domain, of his duties, of being a ruler... of just being itself, really. Ready to break by the circumstances and be put back together by the Radio Demon, who both infuriates and tempts him alike.

Mirror, Mirror (Alastor x Bodyconscious!Reader, NSFW) TW: Explicit depictions & mentions of ED and body dysmorphia An innocent remark from Angel confirms what Alastor long suspected. And he is determined to help reader see just how much more than beautiful she really is.

Sensory Overload (Vox x Reader, NSFW) Valentino's new hire is a genius when it comes to write about sex - but unfortunately, having it proves impossible to her because hell made her senses numb. Not even the moth pimp could get her off, much to the amusement of Vox. When they make a bet about whether or not Vox could suceed where Valentione had failed, Vox takes on that challenge as he does any other challenge. Head on and with full power.

Visions of You (Alastor x Blind!Reader, MDNI) TW: Depictions of attempted SA, Blood & Gore Managing hell without seeing, Reader made a modest living for herself selling books in her little store. A quiet, mostly uneventful life, until a certain overlord visits, interested in the various stock Reader keeps - as well as the little blind mouse herself.

No Hard Feelings (Alastor x Fox!Reader, NSFW) "Don't tell me you don't know?" he purred, a dark smirk pulling at his lips, a slight glimmer of the yellowish hue of his sharp teeth showing from behind them. "How quaint. I'm afraid I didn't take into consideration that you are not the type to make yourself acquainted with the hellish form you took on. Why, you're in heat, darling. A very... desperate and needy one, at that."

The Mini-Series (SFW & NSFW, mind the tags!)

Good Times Series - Alastor x Reader Al and Reader explore which era had better dance moves 1.Going with the times 2.Goody-Two-Shoes

Brat Series - Alastor x Bratty!Reader (NSFW) Reader tests the limit of Al's patience, it's just so fun! But what happens when his patience runs out? Uh-oh... 1. (Un)Holy Tease 2.(Un)Holy Terror

Hard Days Series - Sub!Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Alastor doesn't often feel the need to give up control, but when he does, we know - and we're ready! 1.Hard Day 2.The hardest Day

Actions and Words Series - Alastor x Reader Reader joins a lonely, tipsy Al at the bar for a night filled with much more than words. After the nightly drunken escapade, Charlie and the crew is hellbent on getting Reader and Alastor together. While Reader tries to stop the shenanigans, no one asks Alastor what HE wants. 1.More than Words 2.Louder than Words

The full Picture Series - Alastor x Reader Reader is an artist who draws everyone - just not Alastor. Which bugs him. Majorly. 1.Pictures of You 2.Ripped Canvas (WIP)

AfterLife Series (NSFW) Heavy Angst; TW: DARK themes, suicide, mental/physical torture, religious trauma Reader finds an old radio and with it, a friend. Her only friend in a word she feels shut off of. When that friends vanishes, she doesn't see another way to continue but to take a leap of faith. In the most horrible sense. You have to bargain with something much bigger than yourself, hoping to find your way to the one you jumped for in the first place. 1.Leap of Faith (Alastor x Human!Reader) 2.Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Alastor x Reader)

Beauty is Power - A Smile is it's Sword Series (Alastor x Cheshire!Reader; NSFW) What's more dangerous than one smiling murderous deer overlord? Well, him with a similar murderous and ever-grinning cheshire wife, going out for a little game night. (Please mind the TW!) 1. Game Night 2. A Night to Remember 3. No Place like Home

Our Deer Family Series - (Angst/Fluff, NSFW) (TW: Sickness, Death) An unconventional offer from a gravely sick young woman turns Alastors whole afterlife upside down when she, now deceased, turns up at the hotel with the most unsuspected news. 1.One plus One makes Three (Alastor x Human!Reader) 2.What to expect... (Alastor x Reader, WIP)

Tempest Series - Alastor x Reader (Angst/Comfort, NSFW/MDNI) When Alastors nightmare threatens to destroy the hotel, Reader heads to his room, determined to wake him up before they are all buried in the rubble. But waking a sleeping beast is a dangerous thing. 1.The Eye of the Storm 2.Taming the Tempest

The Alchemist Series (Alastor x Reader, NSFW) The Alchemist, a powerful new sinner that quickly rises up the ranks of the pride ring's top demons and with no interest to join the elite group of overlords, is a thorn in Alastor's side from the moment she sets foot in hell. Chaos and Order just have to clash, so nature dictates The Alchemist and the Radio Demon have to do the same. Too bad that there is only a very thin line between hatred and love. 1.The Principle of Equal Exchange

#SlutSnacks (NSFW Shorts)

Early Morning Pick-Me-Up (Alastor x Reader) Incorrect Alastor x Reader Quotes: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 Lessons in Leather (Human!Alastor x Reader) Let Down your Hair (Alastor x Reader)

Collaborations

DoubleTrouble No.1: Sweet as Cherry Wine - Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Reader has her period, Alastor is a cannibal. Seems like a plan, right? (Alastor POV, companion piece to Reader POV The Blood is Rare by @macabr3-barbi3

Double Trouble No.2: Missionary Impossible - Vox x Reader (NSFW) (Reader POV, companion piece to Vox POV by @macabr3-barbi3)

One Word to lift the Pain of Life - Alastor x Reader (+RadioSilence) Regency AU piece done in the collaborative event 'PrideRing and Prejudice' by Bapples Orchard Discord Server, thanks to the one and only @bapple117

Never have I Ever - Vox x Kora (@macabr3-barbi3's OC) Fluffy One Shot of my favorite Vox/OC couple!

Asks to come (Not in chronological order; Working Titles)

For Reasons Wretched and Divine (Lucifer x Reader; NSFW) Business is Business (Alastor & Vox & Lucifer x Chuck the Tailor) Cheap Tricks and Tasty Treats (Alastor x Reader; NSFW) Midnight Snack (Alastor x Cannibal!Reader; SlutSnack WIP) Beyond the Horizon (Alastor x Reader; Part 3 of the Tempest-Series, NSFW) Stress Relief (Alastor x Reader; Slutsnack WIP) A Friend in Need (Alastor x Reader, Gift for the Coven)

[discofama]

I love how comfortable Adam and Lute are around each other.

I mean, look at this

So they're casually together during the extermination, much like how friends gravitate towards each other when in an event even if they're not talking or doing anything, just because it feels easier than being alone. Or perhaps Lute flew closer because she saw the huge war machine approaching Adam and got a little worried.

Charlie and Vaggie are going to attack them, and look at what they do:

Despite being Adam the one closer to Vaggie, he doesn't move an inch. They don't say anything (besides the shit talk) and Adam doesn't even look at her, he expects Lute will take care of Vaggie with no order from him, even if he's closer.

Obviously Adam is confident and doesn't think Vaggie can hurt him at all, but he clearly trusts Lute to get her out of the way. He probably knows how bloodthirsty Lute is for Vaggie and lets her have her without a word, and Lute complies, again, without a word, leaving him to handle the strongest of the enemies at that moment (Charlie).

So in this second, Adam and Lute communicated in silence. Adam didn't move and trusted her to cut in even if it was him the one under attack, and finally Lute trusted him to handle Charlie so she could fight Vaggie, as she didn't seem worried at all of the possibility of Charlie coming to protect her girlfriend.

They're in harmony. They're just natural together.

He lets her grab him like this and is willing to listen to her. It's clear he respects her and deep down appreciates that she'll keep him from doing something stupid, even if he whines.

She also climbs him? Lol. (Look at how she holds onto his arm 🥹 she's super comfortable with touching him!)

They're always hyping each other up, like in their songs:

(Look at Lute's smug face here 👇, she's sooo satisfied with what Adam's saying)

I honestly believe that they kinda make each other worse, that neither of them would be SO mean all the time if they didn't have the other: a companion who is always backing them up, who agrees on any crap that comes out of their mouth (Lute lets him talk shit about random women and nods, Adam goes along with Lute's homophobia despite seeming to not care that much about homosexuals).

Many portray Lute being a lot smarter than Adam, but I think they're both dumbasses. I mean, we laugh at Adam for saying he never made a mistake in his fucking life, but it was Lute who first stated angels don't make mistakes, somehow keeping a serious face. I think Lute seems smart because she's more quiet and cares about the rules, but she doesn't do logic very well either and can be impulsive too, as shown in the end of ep. 1.

They're probably each other's best/only friend, because they're just so unlikeable. And it makes sense they'd deeply care for one another. They care about that person that stands them and agrees with them and actually enjoys being with them. They're always seen together, hanging out even off duty. They clearly have a lot of fun.

I'll be honest. I ship GuitarSpear, I love it, but I don't know if I want it to be canon for 2 reasons:

1. Lute might be a lesbian.

She is so repulsed by homosexuals that it feels personal. Talking about how disgusting and blasphemous Charlie and Vaggie's love is, or how many cocks were in Angel's mouth and calling him a whore. She cares too much about it for it to not be personal, and I think it makes sense that she'd be a closet lesbian with a shit ton of internalized homophobia. She probably knew about Vaggie's sexuality and held a lot of resentment towards her before tearing off her wings. Maybe she was even attracted to her and was so repulsed about it that she redirected her self-hatred to Vaggie.

2. I think it could be better for Adam's character.

Let's just think about it. This character has a very distorted view of women, he has a fixation on them and hypersexualizes them. So the idea of this horny man, who always sees women with sex colored glasses, being good friends with a hot female below him in the hierarchy with no sexual or romantic interest whatsoever is nice to me. It'd work as sort of a redeeming quality in regards of his relationship with women, and I personally think this man is very redeemable. Let's hope he gets a second chance!

Still! All of this trust and comfort and team feelings can be read as romantic and I certainly wouldn't mind if it becomes canon! They could be the best villain couple!

Summarizing, these two are soulmates, end of the story. They're worse together, but also probably provide the other of a very needed company.

I have no clue if Adam will actually come back, but if he doesn't, I'll feel very bad for Lute. Yeah, yeah, she's an evil bitch, I don't care.

[shockmastervoidstate]

Why you care so much about your CR

Feel too attached to the CR? In this post, I will tell you why and if you understand why, you can do something about it

Many of us feel somehow guilty for leaving the CR. We feel as if we would "escape" a trap, while leaving other poor souls behind.

I did a thought experiment and reflected on it with my knowledge of psychology and I think I figured out why we feel this way.

It's because our ego, identity and purpose are determined by other people.

It's human nature. Psychology professor Martin Seligman, who talks a lot about positive psychology, explains how we derive our purpose from those around us.

We are, essentially, nobody without others. We would just be wandering around, eating when hungry and sleeping when tired until we die.

But since we live in social networks, we have a certain self-image that is given to us by others. A kid who is always praised for their intelligence will see themself and behave like a smart person. They gravitate towards hobbies, jobs and tasks where they can use their brains for their own good and the good of others.

Our ego holds on strongly to our identity, and everything that questions our identity is scary and stressful. The smart kid from my example will quickly develop confidence and pride in his intellect. However, the worst thing that could happen to him is failure to complete their intellectual tasks, especially when others can observe it. This would lead to an identity crisis.

We all have identities that consist of a whole set of labels.

We all are members of families and communities (like shifting Tumblr, haha). As a result, each of us has a unique set of responsibilities.

Our ego doesn't want us to just let go of it, its survival depends on it, and in extreme cases, our survival depends on it, since we puny humans are as good as dead without community.

The ego doesn't understand the concept of shifting realities. It knows only itself and hates and fears everything that threatens it.

"Reality is a prison and people are the prison bars"

Because they tell us who we are and we believe it.

Even when we shift or manifest, aren't our desires at least partly predetermined?

Almost all shifters choose realities and people that they saw in this CR. Almost all shifters want to be human and live human lives. Almost all shifters want to embody attributes that their community values, such as beauty, style, wealth, kindness or cruelty, intelligence, success, confidence, strength, tolerance or intolerance, uniqueness or fitting in.

It's no wonder that we can't just leave like that, when everything we learned to value was determined by our communities here.

Especially when you do not embody attributes that are valued by your community. You want to shift to be rich/successful/beautiful, but you value these attributes, because you were taught to.

And now you're on a quest to get the job done, but when you want to shift for these things, your ego and identity have something to say.

"What about me? What about your CR self? What about your CR community?"

What about them, they will always be here and they have always been here, since every moment exists forever in the multiverse.

But your ego and identity, that could only exist thanks to linear time, doesn't understand shifting.

"Don't leave me behind. Shifting isn't real, it's just a lucid dream. Go back to work, you need to take care of my, sorry, I meant your business. Yes, your business. Not mine, don't look at me like that."

Honestly, when I did my thought experiment, I saw how absurd "shifter's guilt" is.

Imagine you were living on a lonely island, just catching fish when hungry, throwing rocks when bored and sleeping when tired.

You don't have a mirror. Even if you looked into one, you wouldn't know if you were beautiful or ugly, because there is nobody else to compare with. You also don't know if you're strong or smart or funny. You have no concept of these things.

There is nobody to impress and nobody to help. You just live.

Now imagine you discovered a portal to a different island, one that's a little bit nicer. Would you go?

Yes, you would. Your life will be the same, just a little bit nicer. You leave nothing behind. Not anybody else, not your identity, because you don't have one.

"Hey shockmaster, what the hell should I do now?"

There are some things that can help you detach from your CR to shift.

1) Consider how much you want to detach from your CR. Do you want it to vanish forever or just make the bonds a little weaker? This will determine what steps are suitable.

2) Always remind yourself that you are awareness, not a physical body. You are just aware of it.

You can do this by saying affirmations or by consuming media that support this belief.

3) Question labels. Do you call yourself lazy? Why? Because someone you know works harder? Or your teacher said so?

4) Question your values. Do you like strength? Why? Because you felt unsafe in some situation? Because someone you know admires strength?

5) Treat the CR like a dream. It's not special. You may have not shifted much, but you had so many dreams. What makes them less valid than the CR? Think carefully about this. Could it be that your ego wants you to forget and discard your dreams so that you can focus more on egoic interests?

Don't forget to treat the people in your CR as dream characters, at least in your mind. Your ego likely thinks that your relationships are special, but are they really? Would you be friends with the boys and girls from school if you had never gone to school? Would you live with your parents if they weren't your parents?

6) Shift to a DR that is similar to your CR. If you just can't help it and feel like you have business to do in the CR, do them in a nicer CR.

7) Shift for a vacation. Just go on an adventure and then return to your CR. Have fun, your ego will not mind, hopefully. But if done successfully, your ego will comprehend shifting much better. It will get easier.

8) Abandon your CR identity and shift to a reality that is extremely different. A good choice for people that think their CR is totally inadequate. Use the LoA and embody your new identity already.

9) Achieve the void state. You'll be liberated from your identity and ego enough to shift to any reality without persistence. Lucid dreams and astral projections are effective, too.

Good luck! Live how you want.

[padmesweetheart]

Tiny Dancers, Growing Hearts

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff / Slow Romance

Summary: When two little girls in pink tutus become inseparable at ballet class, their single parents are drawn together too. Amid small talk, coffee runs, and shared laughter, Hayden finds himself falling for the woman whose daughter twirls beside his own.

You weren’t expecting much from ballet class.

It was a simple Saturday morning thing—a way for your daughter to burn off some of that seemingly endless energy, and maybe give you a moment to breathe. You’d even brought your coffee in one of those extra-large thermoses that practically doubled as a weapon, anticipating a dull wait in the back corner of the dance studio.

What you weren’t expecting was him.

At first, you only noticed because your daughter gravitated toward his. Two tiny pink blurs, giggling and holding hands before class even started. And then you looked up. He was leaning casually against the wall, baseball cap low, arms folded, quiet but clearly watching the girls with a soft sort of pride in his eyes.

He was… familiar. But it didn’t quite hit you until he turned slightly and smiled at something his daughter said.

Hayden Christensen.

That Hayden Christensen.

You blinked, doing a double take—but he didn’t seem to notice your surprise. Or if he did, he was used to it. He was dressed like any other dad: hoodie, jeans, sneakers. Just another parent at ballet, trying to keep up.

The next week, it was the girls again—racing toward each other like they’d been separated for years instead of six days. And that time, he spoke first.

“She’s really taken a liking to yours,” he said, nodding toward the two of them as they began spinning in circles together like dizzy tops.

You smiled, a little shy but warm. “Yeah, mine’s talked about ballet non-stop since last week. I think your daughter might be the main reason.”

He chuckled, soft and genuine. “Same here. I guess we’re in this together now, huh?”

You ended up sitting beside him on the bench that morning. Just a bit of small talk, nothing fancy. He was gentle, soft-spoken, and quick to laugh in that quiet way that felt… rare. He didn’t seem to care if you knew who he was. He was just Hayden. A dad, like you were a mom. Two parents, watching two little ballerinas create their own whirlwind of joy.

————————

Weeks passed, and ballet Saturdays became routine. The girls were inseparable, always requesting matching buns, matching tutus, matching everything. And you and Hayden?

Somehow, without either of you meaning to, your chats became something else.

He’d bring you coffee some mornings, remembering how you liked it after just one mention. You’d bring him muffins the week after, teasing him about being too skinny for someone who claimed to “live for breakfast carbs.”

There were laughs. Jokes. Shared looks over the chaos of post-class toddler energy. And when one of the girls fell during practice and burst into tears, you both jumped up at the same time, bumping shoulders in your rush to comfort them. He looked at you then, eyes lingering just a second too long, and you felt your breath catch.

——————

One day, after class, the girls begged for a park trip. You all went—no hesitation. You sat on the swings beside each other, watching as they chased each other in circles under the sun.

“I didn’t expect this,” he said softly. You turned to him, raising a brow. “I mean, ballet class. This whole thing. Meeting someone like you.”

Your heart did a little flip. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Same.”

He glanced at you, a little nervous, but hopeful. “Do you think… maybe sometime, when it’s not ballet day, we could grab dinner? Just us?”

You smiled, heart fluttering. “I’d like that.”

———————

From there, it was soft and slow—like the gentle rhythm of the music the girls danced to. Not rushed. Not loud. Just a growing tenderness between two people who’d built something real in the quiet corners of a ballet studio.

Sometimes you’d catch him watching you when you weren’t looking, his eyes soft, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. And when he finally kissed you, it was after another Saturday class, while the girls shared a juice box on the bench.

He didn’t say anything—just stepped a little closer, eyes searching yours, and leaned in. It was a gentle kiss. Careful. Warm. Like everything else with him.

And as your daughters giggled behind you, arms tangled in the bond only tiny best friends could understand, you felt something settle in your heart. Like maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the beginning of something temporary.

It was the start of something beautiful.

@skyguytoast @dessxoxsworld @endairachristensen26 @bxbyysstuff @inlovewithallmusic

[thelostclassics]

Meeting the group.

Summary: in which Richard meets the group and becomes fascinated with one of them, not knowing that he is not the only one.

Pairing: Henry Winter x fem!reader

Warnings: none I think. Use of Y/n. Richard POV.

A/N: I pictured Y/n being from another country, so there’s this slight comment about her having a little bit of an accent, but it can be ignored. Hope you like it! Xx

We were all gathered in the library, on one of the last afternoons of September, when Henry introduced me to the group. They were all there:

Francis, the twins, Bunny, and her, Y/n.

The first time I saw Y/n, she seemed like an apparition. It was not so much her beauty - although it was undeniable - but the way she occupied the space, as if she belonged to a world different from ours.

There was something in her that reminded me of the Greek sculptures that I had seen on Julian's Books. Not for polished perfection, but for that timeless quality, a mystery that extended beyond flesh and bone. Her dark hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and when she looked up to look at me, her eyes had a burning glow, as if they contained the reflection of a knowledge the rest of us could barely comprehend.

"You must be Richard", she said with a smile, her voice was low, sweet, with a slight accent I couldn't quite identify. Her tone wasn't just from pure courtesy; there was a genuine interest in it, a warmth that contrasted with the coldness of the others. I felt observed, analyzed, as if somehow she already knew who I was before I opened my mouth.

As time passed, I noticed that Y/n had that effect on everyone. It wasn't just her appearance, it was something deeper, an energy that made people gravitate around her. Bunny tried to impress her with jokes, Francis looked at her with admiration, Charles tried to engage intellectual conversations with her, while Camilla found in her a confident and a friend to rely on. But the one that impressed me more was Henry.

Henry, always cold, distant and calculated, seemed different when he was with her. It wasn't just affection or attraction, his whole demeanor changed around her. You could see it in his eyes, it was devotion. At first I thought it was intellectual interest only, but there were times when I saw them in moments when they thought no one else was looking, and I comprehended that it was something else. A secret bond, a connection, although never explicit, was undeniable.

___

It was late at night, in October, we were all staying in Francis' country house, when I saw Henry letting down his guard for the first time with her.

We were all gathered around the chimney, with half-empty glasses of wine andd the night breeze coming through the open windows. Conversation hung in the air, fragmented, and I, sitting in a corner, observed.

Y/n was beside Henry on the couch, her posture was relaxed, her hand around the neck of her glass while she talked in a low voice. Henry, who rarely allowed physical for no reason, had his arm resting on the back of the couch, so close to her that the slightest movement would have made his fingers touch her shoulder.

It was subtle, but it was there. In the way he looked at her when he thought no one was watching, in the way his words were meticulously measured when she was near. It wasn’t just interest. It was something deeper, as if he had met her in the afterlife and now he was meant to found her again.

Y/n seemed conscious about it. She didn’t openly encouraged it, but didn’t declined it either. There was a calm in her, a certainty that contrasted with the tension barely contained of Henry. But still, they fitted into each other in a way that seemed almost impossible, surreal.

That night, while the rest of the group got lost in conversations and laughs, I comprehended something that, until then, I had only suspected: Y/n wasn’t just another one of us, she was an important piece, like an anchor that kept us in the real world, with the calm and gentle determination that she carried.

And the most important thing that I noticed, is that Henry seemed like a different person near her, softening whenever she was around, and that, was not normal in Henry Winter.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Hi guys! It’s a bit short, but it was something I had started writing a while ago, but in my native language, so I tried to translate it as best as I could, I used DeepL translator in some words. It’s not perfect, so let me know if you see some mistakes.

I hope you liked it despite being short and feel free to request if you want to read something specific.

Helena,

Xx

[etclouie]

day fourteen — siriusly alone

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — summary; neither you or Sirius have a date for valentines day (Sirius Black x fem!reader)

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — warnings; friends to lovers kinda??, mutual pinning, sirius smokes here, they kiss, maybe badly written, that’s it tho i think

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — word count; 684

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — a/n; last day of this event somehow??

prev day | next day louie’s 14 days of love | main masterlist

all of your friends had dates this Valentine’s Day, apart from Sirius—which is how you found yourselves alone in the Gryffindor common room while everyone else was out celebrating the holiday.

you’d spent all your other Valentines Days at Hogwarts by yourself, but spending it with Sirius this year was different. 

not that you were complaining of course, you were harbouring feelings for him. 

and little did you know, he felt the exact same way towards you.

with a sigh you droped your head to his shoulder, his attention falling to you as he exhaled the smoke of his cigarette.

“you okay?”

he asked, offering the cigarette your way before you shook your head ‘no’. another sigh toppling from your lips as your eyes held his, mumbling back to him.

“yeah just think we’re the only two people without a date”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he watched you curled into his side. he moved his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer, something you both normally did anyways.

both of you always seeming to gravitate to the other, without fully realising it.

you’d heard James and Remus make jokes before, that you’d be good together but you and Sirius always laughed them off.

but now, now didn’t feel as if either of you were against their suggestions.

and as if Sirius could read your mind, he spoke up.

“reckon we should take James and Remus’ advice right about now, hm?”

at his words you lifted your head to meet his eyes again, watching him nod as his cigarette sat between his lips.

he took another drag of it before exhaling the smoke away from you, a new softness behind his eyes.

“you serious?”

you asked, searching his eyes and finding nothing but sincerity. 

he couldn’t help but chuckle at the disbelief and surprise in your eyes, dropping his cigarette and stubbing it out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

“hey Sirius?”

you whispered, your face now inches from his and your breath mingling.

the closeness between you made you giggle, a flurry of butterflies erupting in your belly. 

“yeah love?”

that was new.

the first time he’d ever called you love before, and you wanted to scream about it from the rooftops.

“can i kiss you?”

you asked without a second thought, even taking yourself aback.

but he nodded.

god, did it feel like your dreams were coming true. but so were his.

he leaned in, meeting your lips halfway in a kiss much softer than either of you expected.

you pulled back after a moment, but stopped a hairs width away from his lips. the moment felt surreal but it felt good, good enough that you both leaned in again before you whispered against his lips again.

“might be silly now, but i like you Siri”

you told, which made him chuckle again. he flashed you an ‘oh really?’ look, rolling your eyes at him before resting your head on his shoulder.

his left arm moved around your waist to pull you impossibly closer as he whispered out to you.

“i like you too love”

of course it felt silly, but now that the truth was out it felt like a breath of fresh air.

the butterflies in your belly began to simmer down, but the new longing you felt for each other remained dormant.

“kiss me again, please”

you whispered, and he eagerly complied with your plea.

his lips pressed firmer against yours, kissing the breath from your lungs as he deepened it this time. 

his right hand lifted to cradle your face and his thumb stroked across your cheek, both of you lost in the kiss until you heard a group of jeers from the door to the common room.

breaking apart, you seen James and Lily. hiding your face in against Sirius’ shoulder as his cheeks panted themselves a pink hue, James throwing teases your way as they walked past.

waiting until James and Lily disappeared upstairs, you giggled against Sirius’ shoulder before whispering out to him.

“he’s never going to let you live this down”

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[niallerspayno]

Game Night (Zayn Malik x reader) - Fic Request

Request for @cletumblsblog: Hello, i hope you’re doing well !! Can i send a request about zayn please? We don’t have a lot of imagines about him! Whatever plot just i’d like it if the reader is a part of one direction like as a sixth member? Thank you very much!!

Masterlist

There’s a certain rhythm to your life now, one that’s hard to explain to people who don’t live it. Fame is loud and fast, and you’ve learned to keep up with it because you don’t have a choice. But when you look back, it’s hard to believe how far you’ve come—from a hopeful teenager auditioning on The X Factor to a member of one of the biggest bands in the world.

You remember the moment you first met the boys—five strangers, all nervous energy and tentative smiles, thrown together in a competition none of you really understood yet. The producers thought adding a girl to the group would give you all an edge, and somehow, it worked. What started as an experiment became something unshakable, and now, the six of you are a family.

You’ve grown up together in the truest sense. Louis is your mischief partner, always ready with a joke or a ridiculous scheme to make you laugh. Harry is the one you go to when you need to talk, his calm energy balancing your occasional chaos. Niall’s warmth and easygoing nature feel like home, and Liam’s steady presence and kindness keeps you grounded.

And then there’s Zayn.

From the start, he’s been different. Quiet where the others are loud, reserved in a way that makes you want to understand him more. With Zayn, there’s a comfort you can’t explain—a feeling like he sees you, the real you, in a way no one else does. It’s why you’ve always been closest to him, why your bond feels so unshakable.

The boys have noticed, of course. They tease you both relentlessly, but it’s never mean-spirited. If anything, they seem to enjoy the way you and Zayn gravitate toward each other, the way your connection feels like something rare and unspoken.

It’s a connection you’re still figuring out yourself.

...

Louis’ text comes in the middle of a rare free afternoon.

“Game night at mine. Bring snacks or don’t bother coming. xx”

You laugh, shaking your head at his usual theatrics before sending a quick thumbs-up emoji in reply. Game nights with the boys are the closest thing you have to a “normal” life—just six friends laughing, arguing over board games, and eating way too much junk food. You’ve missed it, missed them.

The air outside Louis’ flat is crisp, the kind of early evening chill that makes you glad you grabbed your oversized hoodie before heading out. Balancing a tray of brownies and a bag of crisps in one hand, you press the doorbell with your free one, hearing the familiar chime echo inside.

It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Louis with a wide grin plastered across his face. “There she is!” he announces, stepping aside and ushering you in with a dramatic flourish.

“Don’t start,” you say with a laugh, slipping past him into the warmth of the flat. The scent of something slightly burnt and far too much cologne hits you immediately, a mix that is uniquely Louis.

“What’s this?” he asks, grabbing at the tray in your hands like it’s treasure.

“Brownies,” you reply, tugging them away from his reach. “But if you keep being greedy, I’m keeping them for myself.”

“Rude,” he says, clutching his chest in mock offense before grinning again. “Alright, come on, everyone’s here already. You’re late.”

“I’m not late,” you argue, kicking off your shoes and setting the brownies on the kitchen counter. “You just like to exaggerate.”

He doesn’t deny it, instead grabbing your bag of crisps and tearing it open as you follow him into the living room.

The chaos is immediate. Harry is sprawled across one end of the couch, lazily flipping through his phone while Niall and Liam are deep in a heated debate over which board game to play first. The coffee table is already overloaded with snacks—half-empty bowls of popcorn, a packet of biscuits, and an open bag of gummy bears that Niall is clearly hoarding.

“Finally!” Niall exclaims when he sees you. “I’ve been starving waiting for you to get here.”

“You’ve been eating the whole time,” Liam points out, rolling his eyes.

“Doesn’t count if it’s not the main snacks,” Niall retorts, gesturing dramatically at your tray of brownies.

“Alright, alright,” you say, laughing as you set the tray down on the table. “I’m here now. What are we playing?”

“Monopoly,” Liam says at the same time Niall shouts, “Pictionary!”

Harry snorts, tossing his phone onto the armrest. “This is why we never start on time.”

“You’re not helping,” Liam points out, but Harry just grins and stretches out further on the couch.

...

You’re just settling into the rhythm of the evening—listening to Liam try and fail to organize everyone—when the doorbell rings again.

“Someone else is late for once!” Louis calls out, jumping up from his seat and disappearing toward the door.

Your brow furrows slightly. You hadn’t realized anyone else was coming. Maybe one of Louis’ friends from outside the group? It’s not uncommon for him to invite a plus-one to these things.

A few seconds later, you hear Louis’ voice, followed by a familiar low laugh that sends your stomach flipping.

Zayn.

He steps into the living room a moment later, his leather jacket slung casually over one shoulder and a takeaway bag in his hand. His hair is slightly tousled, like he’s run his hands through it a few times on the way over, and he’s wearing one of his signature oversized shirts that somehow makes him look effortlessly cool.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Louis says, smirking as he grabs the bag out of Zayn’s hand.

“Nice to see you too, mate,” Zayn replies, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before his gaze flicks across the room. It lands on you, and his expression softens immediately.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and warm.

You can feel the boys’ eyes on you as you smile back. “Hey.”

For a moment, it feels like the rest of the room disappears, leaving just the two of you standing there, caught in an unspoken moment. But then Harry clears his throat loudly, breaking the spell.

“Alright, lover boy, stop hogging the door and sit down,” he says, grinning at you both.

Zayn chuckles, shaking his head as he moves to take the empty spot beside you on the couch. The room shifts slightly as he settles in, his knee brushing against yours under the table. It’s subtle, but it sends a jolt through you all the same.

“You’re late,” you tease, glancing at him.

“Fashionably,” he replies, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Louis reappears with a handful of plates, tossing one in your direction. “Alright, enough flirting. Let’s eat and then play. I’m not losing to you lot on an empty stomach.”

The room bursts into laughter, and just like that, the moment passes. But as Zayn leans back against the couch, his arm brushing yours, you can’t help but feel like tonight might be different.

...

Plates clatter as the remnants of takeaway are cleared from the coffee table, replaced with a pile of game boxes. Louis is already rifling through them, loudly declaring himself “Game Master” while Harry lounges on the armrest of the couch, nibbling on the last slice of garlic bread.

“Right, lads—and lass,” Louis says with a wink in your direction. “We’re starting with Uno because it’s the only game that guarantees drama.”

“Drama?” Niall says, popping a gummy bear into his mouth. “More like guarantees me winning.”

“You wish,” Liam retorts, rolling his eyes as he begins shuffling the deck with the precision of someone who takes game night far too seriously.

You laugh, leaning back against the couch as you watch them bicker. It’s always like this—friendly banter, exaggerated threats of sabotage, and a level of competitiveness that would put most athletes to shame.

Beside you, Zayn chuckles softly, the sound low enough that only you can hear. “Think they realize it’s just a card game?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, smirking. “They’ve been like this since day one.”

He leans slightly closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You any good at Uno?”

“I can hold my own,” you say, feigning confidence. “Why? Worried I’ll beat you?”

“Never,” he says, his smirk widening.

Before you can respond, Louis claps his hands loudly. “Alright, everyone shut up and pay attention! Rules are simple: no cheating, no crying, and no throwing cards at each other. Looking at you, Niall.”

“That was one time,” Niall mutters, earning a round of laughter from the group.

The first few rounds are surprisingly calm—at least by your standards. Niall plays his cards quickly and confidently, grinning like he’s already won, while Liam meticulously plans every move. Harry alternates between playing properly and trying to make everyone laugh, at one point using his draw pile to construct a tiny house of cards.

And then there’s Louis, whose strategy seems to revolve entirely around causing as much chaos as possible.

“You can’t do that!” Liam exclaims as Louis throws down a wild card and gleefully changes the color to one he knows Liam doesn’t have.

“Sure I can,” Louis replies, leaning back smugly. “Read the rules, mate.”

“You wrote the rules,” Liam says, glaring at him.

“Exactly,” Louis says, winking at you. “Which means I can’t be wrong.”

Zayn chuckles, sliding a green card onto the pile. “You’re gonna get yourself disqualified, you know.”

“Can’t disqualify the Game Master,” Louis says, sticking his tongue out.

The room dissolves into laughter again, and you shake your head as you draw your next card. But as the game continues, you notice Zayn’s attention drifting back to you more often than the cards in his hand.

“Your turn,” he murmurs, nudging your arm lightly.

“Right,” you say, focusing on the pile. You manage to play a reverse card, sending the turn back to Zayn, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Nice move,” he says, his tone laced with challenge.

“Thanks,” you reply, biting back a smile. “Try to keep up.”

The subtle back-and-forth doesn’t go unnoticed. Niall points at you both with a gummy bear, his grin mischievous. “Oi, are you two playing Uno or having some private little game over there?”

“Jealous?” Zayn shoots back smoothly, earning a chorus of “oohs” from the rest of the group.

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “He’s just mad because he’s losing,” you say, nodding toward Niall’s growing draw pile.

“She’s got you there,” Harry says, smirking as he skips Niall’s turn entirely.

By the time the final round starts, the room is in full chaos. Liam is meticulously tracking which cards have been played, Niall is accusing Louis of stacking the deck, and Harry is too busy laughing at his own bad luck to care about winning.

You and Zayn, meanwhile, are locked in a quiet battle.

He smirks as he plays another draw two card, forcing you to pick up more. “You alright there?”

“Perfect,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. You manage to play a wild card on your next turn, changing the color to red—the one you know he doesn’t have.

“Bold move,” he says, his gaze flicking to yours.

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” you reply, holding his gaze a beat longer than necessary.

The moment feels charged, like a silent dare neither of you is willing to back down from. But before anything more can happen, Louis slams his final card down with a triumphant shout.

“Uno!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air.

“What?” Liam says, looking genuinely distressed. “How did you—”

“I’m a genius, that’s how,” Louis declares, standing up and bowing dramatically.

The room erupts into laughter and groans, with Niall declaring a rematch and Harry muttering something about sabotage.

You glance at Zayn, who’s watching you with a small smile. “Next time,” he says softly.

“Next time,” you agree, already looking forward to it.

...

The coffee table is cleared once again, now replaced with a giant pad of paper, markers, and a small sand timer that Niall is inspecting with great suspicion.

“Right,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “Team time!”

“We’re calling it now,” Harry declares, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “The power duo of Harry and Louis is unbeatable.”

“Power duo?” Liam says, raising an eyebrow. “You two can’t even agree on pizza toppings.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Louis says confidently. “It’s about vibes, not strategy.”

Niall leans back against the couch, already snacking on another bag of crisps. “Fine. Liam and I are the brains of this operation, then. Prepare to lose.”

You glance around the room, realizing the only person left is Zayn, who’s already watching you with a small, knowing smile.

“Guess that makes us a team,” you say, trying to sound casual even though your heart skips a beat.

“Looks like it,” he replies, leaning back in his seat with a relaxed confidence that makes your stomach flutter.

“Alright,” Louis says, grabbing the pad of paper and tossing it to Liam. “You lot can start. Let’s see what the ‘brains’ can do.”

Liam sets the pad on the table, holding the marker like it’s a weapon. “I’ve got this,” he says confidently, glancing at the card he pulled.

“Timer starts...now!” Louis declares, flipping the sand timer.

Liam begins drawing furiously—lines, circles, and what might be a triangle—while Niall leans forward, squinting at the paper.

“Uh...a house?” Niall guesses. “No, wait, a dog? A cat?”

Liam groans. “No, no, no. It’s obvious! Look at the details!”

“What details?” Niall shoots back, gesturing wildly at the chaotic scribbles. “It looks like a potato with legs!”

“It’s a giraffe!” Liam says, throwing the marker down in exasperation.

“Where’s the neck?” Niall demands, pointing at the stubby figure on the page.

“Time’s up!” Louis announces gleefully, flipping the timer and cackling as Liam buries his face in his hands.

Harry grabs the marker next, glancing at his card before grinning mischievously. “Oh, this is going to be easy,” he says, bending over the pad.

Louis watches intently as Harry starts drawing what can only be described as abstract art.

“A rocket?” Louis guesses.

“Nope,” Harry replies, adding more squiggly lines.

“A fish? A boat? A...banana?”

“It’s obvious!” Harry exclaims, adding yet another wavy line.

Louis throws his hands up. “Mate, I’ve got nothing. It looks like a soggy spoon.”

The timer runs out, and Harry holds up the pad triumphantly. “It’s a roller coaster!”

“That is not a roller coaster,” Louis says, pointing accusingly at the paper.

“Yes, it is! Look, there are the tracks, and those are the people screaming—”

“They’re dots, Harry!”

The room erupts into laughter again, with Niall nearly choking on his crisps and Liam shaking his head in disbelief.

It’s your turn, and you grab the marker, glancing at the card before showing it to Zayn. He nods, leaning forward slightly as you set the pad on the table.

“Alright,” you say, rolling up your sleeves. “Ready?”

“Always,” Zayn replies, his tone soft but confident.

The timer flips, and you immediately start sketching—a few quick lines that form a recognizable shape.

“Tree,” Zayn says instantly.

You nod, adding a few more details.

“Christmas tree.”

“Yes!” you say, grinning as you move on to the next card.

The timer continues, and the two of you fall into an easy rhythm. You draw a circle, and Zayn guesses “sun” before you’ve even added the rays. He gestures for you to keep going, the two of you passing ideas back and forth with an almost telepathic understanding.

“Boat.”

“Candle.”

“Elephant.”

“Bingo,” you say, tossing the marker down just as the timer runs out.

The room is silent for a moment before Niall groans dramatically. “How are you two so good at this?”

“Practice,” Zayn says, smirking as he leans back against the couch.

“Cheating, more like,” Louis mutters, though his grin gives him away.

“You’re just mad because Harry can’t draw,” you tease, earning a laugh from Zayn.

“I can draw,” Harry protests. “You just don’t appreciate my style.”

“Yeah, mate,” Niall chimes in, gesturing at the 'roller coaster' still sitting on the table. “Very avant-garde.”

The laughter continues, but you barely notice as Zayn nudges your arm lightly.

“Good team,” he says quietly, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Best team,” you reply, glancing at him with a small smile.

For a moment, it feels like the chaos of the room fades, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. And when Zayn’s gaze lingers on yours, warm and unspoken, you can’t help but wonder if everyone else notices the shift in the air.

...

The pile of abandoned board games sits in the corner of Louis’ flat, a testament to the group's short attention span. The night has been filled with laughter and playful arguments, but the energy has shifted—restless, buzzing with a sense of anticipation.

“I’m bored,” Louis announces dramatically, sprawling across the floor like a starfish. “We need something with more spice.”

“More spice than Niall eating three jalapeños at once?” Harry teases, smirking as Niall groans in protest.

“Yes,” Louis declares, sitting up abruptly. “We need Truth or Dare.”

“Oh no,” Liam mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh yes,” Louis counters, his grin wicked. “Come on, Payno. Don’t be a coward.”

The group exchanges glances, and one by one, the reluctant smiles and nods signal agreement.

The rules are simple: no skipping a turn, and if you fail a dare or lie during a truth, you face a penalty—usually an unspeakable concoction from Louis’ fridge.

Louis spins the bottle first, and it lands on Harry.

“Truth or dare, Styles?” Louis asks, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“Dare,” Harry says confidently, leaning back with an easy grin.

“I dare you to… serenade your left shoe like it’s your one true love.”

The group bursts into laughter as Harry immediately grabs his shoe and launches into an absurdly romantic rendition of What Makes You Beautiful, complete with heartfelt gazes and dramatic hand gestures.

“Beautiful,” Niall says, wiping away fake tears. “Truly moving.”

The bottle spins again, landing on Liam.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, already smirking.

“Truth,” Liam says cautiously.

“Coward,” Louis mutters under his breath before asking, “Alright, who’s your least favorite member of the band?”

The room erupts into laughter as Liam’s eyes widen.

“I’m not answering that!” Liam protests, but the rules are the rules.

“Penalty!” Louis shouts, jumping up to raid the fridge. A few minutes later, Liam is grimacing as he chugs a concoction that looks—and smells—like regret.

The dares and truths grow bolder with each round. Niall is dared to wear a pair of Louis’ socks on his hands for the next three turns, and Harry is forced to text a random selfie to Simon Cowell with no context.

Then, the bottle spins and lands on you.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, his tone playful but dangerous.

“Truth,” you say, playing it safe.

“Alright,” Louis says, tapping his chin in thought. “Who in this room would you say is your biggest crush?”

The laughter dies down instantly, replaced by an awkward but charged silence. Every set of eyes is on you, and your pulse spikes.

“I, uh…” you stammer, glancing around the room. Your gaze briefly meets Zayn’s, and his expression is unreadable, though his jaw seems slightly tense.

“Come on, spill it!” Niall says, grinning.

“I don’t think I have a crush on anyone here,” you say finally, forcing a laugh.

“Liar!” Harry declares, laughing as the others join in.

“Penalty!” Louis shouts gleefully, but before he can raid the fridge, Zayn spins the bottle, redirecting the attention.

It lands on him.

“Truth or dare, mate?” Niall asks, clearly eager to see what Zayn will pick.

Zayn leans back, his dark eyes flicking to you briefly before answering, “Truth.”

Niall doesn’t miss a beat. “Do you fancy anyone in this room?”

The tension ratchets up instantly, the laughter dissolving into a stunned silence. Zayn’s expression doesn’t falter as he shrugs casually. “Maybe.”

The group erupts into whoops and laughter, but your heart is pounding too loudly to join in. You glance at him, but he’s already spinning the bottle again, avoiding your gaze.

he game reaches a fever pitch when the bottle lands on you again.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, his grin mischievous.

“Dare,” you say, trying to maintain your composure.

“Perfect,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “I dare you to kiss…” He pauses dramatically, his gaze scanning the room before landing on Niall. “Horan!”

Niall bursts out laughing. “Why am I always the guinea pig?”

You groan, but a dare is a dare. You lean toward Niall, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as the group cheers and hollers.

“That was weak!” Harry teases, throwing a pillow at you.

“Not my fault you all love dramatics,” you quip back, though your cheeks burn when you notice Zayn watching you, his jaw tight and his hands gripping his knees.

The bottle spins again, this time landing on Louis.

“Truth or dare?” Harry asks.

“Dare, obviously,” Louis says.

Harry smirks. “I dare you to make this game even more interesting. Pick the person most likely to cause chaos if they had to sit in someone else’s lap for the rest of the game.”

Louis doesn’t hesitate. “That’s easy. You,” he says, pointing at you, “are going to sit in Zayn’s lap for the rest of the night.”

Your stomach flips, and the room explodes with laughter and cheers.

“I hate you all,” you mutter, but you rise to your feet.

Zayn doesn’t say anything as you settle onto his lap, his hands automatically move to your hips to steady you.

“Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Not even a little,” you reply, though your racing heart betrays you.

“Good,” he says softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds, “neither am I.”

The group’s teasing fades into the background as you sit there, hyperaware of every shift of his body against yours.

The game presses on, though your focus is barely on it. Sitting in Zayn’s lap has set your senses alight, and the casual banter and dares thrown around the room feel like a distant hum. His hands rest lightly on your hips, unmoving yet grounding, as if he’s careful not to cross a line.

You try not to think about how solid he feels beneath you or how his warmth radiates through your clothes, but it’s impossible to ignore the steady rhythm of his breathing against your back.

“Alright, who’s next?” Louis demands, spinning the bottle with reckless enthusiasm.

It lands on Harry, who smirks knowingly.

“Truth or dare?” Liam asks, already anticipating chaos.

“Dare,” Harry replies, lounging back dramatically.

“I dare you to…” Liam pauses, tapping his chin. “Post the worst photo of yourself from your camera roll to Instagram. No explanation allowed.”

The room explodes with laughter as Harry groans. “You’re evil,” he mutters, pulling out his phone.

“Come on, Haz, let’s see it!” Niall goads, leaning over to catch a glimpse.

Harry eventually finds a hideously unflattering selfie, complete with a double chin and poorly timed mid-blink. He uploads it with a grimace, and the group cheers as they refresh their feeds to confirm he went through with it.

As the bottle spins again, you shift slightly in Zayn’s lap, trying to find a more comfortable position. His hands tighten instinctively for a moment, steadying you, and the small action sends a jolt of heat through you.

“Sorry,” you whisper, glancing over your shoulder.

His dark eyes meet yours, and for a second, the noise of the room fades away. “You’re fine,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth.

The bottle lands on Niall this time, and the group quickly concocts another embarrassing dare involving a call to a takeaway restaurant, where he’s forced to serenade the person who answers.

You laugh along with the others, but your awareness of Zayn doesn’t waver. Every subtle shift, every brush of his fingers against your sides—it all feels deliberate, though you’re sure he’s as aware of the tension as you are.

“You alright back there?” Harry teases, his eyes flicking between you and Zayn.

“I’m fine,” you reply quickly, though your voice is higher than usual.

Zayn doesn’t respond, but the ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips as Harry spins the bottle again.

The next few rounds blur together in a mix of escalating dares and shameless truths. Niall is dared to eat a concoction of peanut butter and ketchup (which he does with minimal complaint), and Liam is forced to admit which of your songs he secretly likes more than the others.

When the bottle inevitably lands on you again, Louis perks up immediately.

“Truth or dare, love?” he asks, his grin all teeth.

“Dare,” you say, bracing yourself.

“Good choice,” Louis says, clapping his hands. “I dare you to…” He glances at Zayn for a split second, his grin widening. “...whisper something to Zayn that no one else in this room is allowed to hear.”

The group groans collectively, a mix of teasing and exasperation, but you feel the room’s energy shift again.

“Oh, come on, Louis,” Niall complains, though he’s clearly enjoying the show.

“Rules are rules,” Louis replies, feigning innocence.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart racing as you glance back at Zayn. His eyes are on you, steady and curious.

“Go on, then,” he says, his voice soft but laced with something you can’t quite place.

Taking a breath, you lean in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I think Louis is trying to get me killed,” you whisper, half-joking but entirely too aware of how close you are.

Zayn’s low chuckle vibrates through you, and when you pull back, his smile is more genuine than it’s been all night. “Wouldn’t let him,” he says simply, the weight of his words lingering.

The game continues, but the air between you and Zayn is different now—heavier, more charged. The others are oblivious, too busy laughing and shouting dares to notice how his hands rest more firmly on your waist now, how his fingers occasionally graze your sides as if testing the waters.

When the bottle spins and lands on Zayn, the group perks up.

“Truth or dare?” Harry asks, already grinning.

“Dare,” Zayn says easily, his tone steady.

“I dare you to… tell the truth about something,” Harry says, clearly trying to be clever.

“That’s not how dares work!” Niall protests, but Harry waves him off.

“It’s fine,” Zayn says, his gaze flicking to you briefly before he continues. “Alright. Truth about what?”

Harry thinks for a moment, then smirks. “Fine. Truth: Who in this room would you kiss right now if you could?”

The room explodes into chaos again, everyone shouting and hollering.

“Pick wisely!” Louis teases, though his eyes dart between you and Zayn with too much amusement.

Zayn doesn’t hesitate, his voice calm and steady as he answers, “Her.”

The room falls silent, and you feel every pair of eyes on you. Your cheeks burn as you meet Zayn’s gaze, his expression unflinching.

“Well, damn,” Harry mutters, breaking the tension with a laugh.

“Guess we know who’s playing favourites,” Louis quips, though his grin is wide.

The game continues, but it's clear that everything has shifted. Every moment feels like it's suspended in the air, charged with a quiet intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but Zayn. His hands never fully leave your waist, the weight of his touch lingering even when the room is filled with laughter and shouting. You try to ignore it, but every time he moves, his fingers graze your skin, sending a jolt of heat through you.

The group, as always, is oblivious—too busy egging each other on to notice the subtle shift in the dynamic. But Zayn and you? You both feel it.

Niall is laughing loudly at something Louis just said, but his eyes flick to you and Zayn every few seconds. Harry’s not much better, leaning in to whisper something to Liam while occasionally glancing between the two of you with that knowing smirk. Even Liam, usually the most serious of the group, seems oddly preoccupied, his gaze lingering on you and Zayn as if waiting for something to break.

You try to focus on the game, but it's difficult when every time you laugh, Zayn’s gaze holds yours a little longer, his lips curving into that small, knowing smile. When he speaks, it’s always just a little too close, his breath brushing against the back of your neck.

"Your turn," he says softly, nudging you lightly with his knee as the bottle spins to land on you again.

You blink, suddenly realizing everyone’s eyes are on you. "Right," you say, clearing your throat and forcing your voice to stay steady. “Truth or dare?”

You throw the question out almost absentmindedly, not quite able to look him in the eye, but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles, that infuriatingly attractive, cocky smile that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

"Dare," he says with a calm confidence that only makes the tension rise further.

You take a deep breath. "I dare you to… kiss the person closest to you."

The room goes deathly silent. The group stares at you with wide eyes, and even Zayn seems taken aback for a split second.

You feel your pulse quicken, but you try to keep your expression neutral. Everyone knows what’s happening here. This is the dare that will either shatter the tension or make it unbearable. You’ve just forced him into the ultimate move—or the ultimate escape.

Zayn shifts, his eyes glancing between you and the others, but his hand never leaves your waist. Slowly, he leans forward, and his breath skims the back of your neck. You can feel his lips against your skin as he leans in, his movements slow, deliberate.

You can’t breathe.

And then, just when you think he’s going to do it—kiss you—he pulls back.

The room collectively exhales, and you feel a strange sense of relief mixed with disappointment that you can’t explain. Zayn’s eyes never leave yours as he sits back, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Guess that’s not what you meant, is it?" he murmurs, voice hushed but teasing.

The others are grinning, trying to suppress laughter, but the atmosphere is still thick, charged with unspoken words. You force a laugh, though it feels tight in your chest.

"Guess not," you reply, trying to make the moment feel less heavy than it is.

But Zayn’s gaze remains steady, and you swear you can feel the weight of his stare even as the group moves on.

The next few rounds are a blur, the group cycling through dares and truths like clockwork, but the tension never quite dissipates. Niall and Louis are daring each other to do ridiculous things, but their laughter doesn’t quite reach you. You’re aware of every shift in Zayn’s body beneath you, the steady beat of his heart that you can almost feel through the thin fabric of his shirt.

You’re both playing it cool, but neither of you is fooling anyone.

Louis, ever the instigator, finally decides it’s time to push the envelope.

“Alright, alright,” he says loudly, his voice filled with amusement. “Enough games. We all know the two of you have been circling each other for months. It’s time to get this out in the open.”

You freeze. The room goes deathly silent again, and your stomach drops.

“What do you mean?” Zayn asks, his voice a mix of disbelief and something else—something raw.

“Oh, come on, mate,” Louis says, gesturing between you and Zayn like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone knows you two have been ridiculously obvious about it.”

The rest of the boys are grinning now, and you can feel Zayn’s eyes on you, but you can’t quite meet his gaze. Instead, you look at Louis, trying to muster some semblance of composure.

“Don’t you dare start, Louis,” you warn, but your voice comes out more breathless than you intended.

“Don’t try to act all innocent now,” Louis teases, his grin widening. “I see the way you two look at each other when no one’s looking. It’s been obvious since the first time you shared a bottle of tequila in Barcelona.”

You’re trying not to panic, but the words sting more than you’d expected. The others are still laughing, but Zayn’s expression remains unreadable. You can feel him shift beneath you, his body tense now, as if bracing for something.

“I think it’s time you two finally admit it,” Louis presses, his eyes flicking between you and Zayn. “Who’s going to say it first?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You know exactly what he’s trying to do—he’s pushing you to crack, to finally admit what everyone already knows.

But it’s harder than that.

You open your mouth to speak, but Zayn interrupts.

“I think it’s time you shut up, Tomlinson,” Zayn says, his voice sharper than it’s been all night. There’s an edge to it, something that makes everyone stop and look at him.

The room goes still, and for a second, everything hangs in the balance. Your heart races, and you realize that Zayn is staring at you now—really staring at you, like he’s trying to figure something out.

He’s not backing down, and neither are you. The challenge hangs in the air between you both, thicker than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Maybe I will,” Louis says, his grin faltering slightly. “But you two have to deal with the fallout.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. The game is forgotten, the laughter drowned out by the weight of unspoken words. And finally, it hits you—you can’t pretend anymore.

Not with him sitting so close. Not with everyone watching.

The air is thick with anticipation as Louis’ words hang in the room. The boys are all grinning, clearly enjoying the show, but there’s a nervous energy swirling between you and Zayn that refuses to let up.

You try to deflect, wanting to push the moment aside, but you can feel the heat of Zayn’s gaze like a physical touch. His eyes are locked on you, steady and intense, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to read you or if he’s just waiting for you to say something.

"Come on, Y/N," Niall teases, leaning forward. "You’ve gotta admit it’s pretty obvious."

Zayn shifts underneath you, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if he’s trying to anchor you both. You can feel his pulse beneath his skin, a soft thrum that matches your own, but you refuse to let yourself acknowledge the overwhelming need to close the distance between you.

"I think Zayn’s been giving us the silent treatment on purpose," Louis continues, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Trying to keep the mystery, eh?"

Zayn's lips curl up at the corners, but there’s no humor in it, only tension. His gaze flicks between you and Louis, and for a second, it feels like the whole room is holding its breath.

"Shut up, Louis," Zayn finally mutters, his voice deeper than before, more serious.

But Louis is relentless. “Oh, come on, mate, it’s obvious! We’re all practically begging for you two to finally admit what’s going on. I mean, it’s only a matter of time before—”

Before he can finish, Zayn moves, his hand sliding down to your hip and pulling you closer, just enough to make your breath catch. The action is so sudden, so deliberate, that you freeze, every nerve in your body awake to the heat and weight of him behind you.

“Enough,” Zayn says quietly, his voice a sharp contrast to the chaotic energy around you. He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks just for you. “If you want me to admit something, Y/N… maybe it’s time you say it first.”

The words hang in the air, impossibly close, like a dare but also an invitation. Your heart races in your chest, the sound of it nearly deafening in the silence that follows.

You don’t know what to say at first, your mind racing to catch up with what’s just happened. You’re suddenly painfully aware of how close Zayn is, of the way his breath moves against your skin, of the feeling of his body beneath you. Your palms are clammy against your knees as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you waiting for?” Zayn murmurs, his voice low and rough, his thumb tracing small circles on your side, the movement casual but deliberate.

You know he’s teasing, but there’s something else in his eyes—something vulnerable, something raw, like he’s finally ready for this to break, to get it out in the open. And God, do you want it too.

The room around you seems to vanish, the others’ teasing and joking falling away as you focus solely on Zayn. He’s no longer the same guy you’ve known for years—the one with the smirk and the quick jokes. He’s real now. Present. Vulnerable.

You feel yourself leaning in, barely noticing it, until your lips are dangerously close to his, so close that you can feel the heat between you. Your breath mingles with his, and you know that the teasing from the others has stopped, that this is no longer a game—it’s just you and Zayn.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you finally whisper, your words barely audible. “You know it’s not just me, right?”

He inhales sharply at your words, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second. “I’ve always known, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice almost a rasp. “I didn’t want to complicate things. But I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the room feels smaller, the world narrowing until it’s just the two of you, finally laying it out in the open. The tension between you—years of unspoken words, shared glances, moments of near-confession—finally breaking.

“I think we’ve been complicating it for too long,” you murmur, finally meeting his eyes with the full weight of your feelings.

Zayn exhales slowly, his lips curving into a small, almost relieved smile. “So… this is it then?” he asks, his voice quiet but teasing.

You nod, the uncertainty finally giving way to a quiet confidence. “Yeah, this is it.”

For a moment, everything feels still—like you’re both suspended in time. And then, with no more words left to say, Zayn closes the small distance between you, his lips crashing into yours with a gentleness that somehow makes everything feel even more intense.

It’s not like the games, not like the teasing. It’s slow, deep, and long-overdue. The kiss is everything you’ve been holding back, every moment of shared tension now unspooled, leaving nothing but honesty in its wake.

When Zayn pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing a little faster now, your hands still tangled in the fabric of his shirt.

“I think this is going to make things a little less complicated,” Zayn says, his voice soft, his smile crooked but genuine.

You laugh softly, unable to help yourself. “Yeah. I think it will.”.

But just as the weight of your confession settles between you, the world around you comes rushing back. The others are staring at you both—gaping, wide-eyed, and grinning.

Louis is the first to speak, breaking the stunned silence. “Well, finally,” he says with a teasing smirk, though there’s something more sincere in his voice now. “We’ve all been waiting for that for ages.”

Niall, who’s been watching with a goofy grin on his face, lets out a soft chuckle. “Couldn’t have made it more obvious if you tried,” he adds, nudging Liam, who’s sitting next to him. “I mean, come on. The way you two look at each other? Ridiculous.”

Liam’s still looking at you and Zayn, his eyes wide and full of disbelief. “So, you’re really…?” His voice trails off, but his smile says it all. There’s something warm, supportive, in his tone, though it’s clear he’s still processing everything.

“You guys are a joke,” Harry finally says, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “We all knew. You’ve been driving us crazy for months now.” He grins, leaning back and crossing his arms. “But I have to admit, I’m kind of relieved. Now we don’t have to watch you two tiptoe around each other anymore.”

The others are laughing, and it’s clear they’re not laughing at you or Zayn, but with you both. There’s no judgment, no teasing edge to their words—only amusement and a sense of satisfaction that the tension between you and Zayn has finally been lifted.

“You two seriously need to stop with the subtle flirting,” Louis adds, his voice full of teasing affection. “It was cute at first, but now it’s just painful to watch.”

You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. It’s a relief to know that the boys aren’t upset or shocked, that they’re not seeing this as something that will ruin the dynamic of the group. They’ve all seen it, too—the way Zayn and you have always gravitated toward each other, the way you’ve always been in sync. And now, it’s finally out in the open.

Zayn squeezes your waist again, and you smile at the small, private gesture. His hand feels natural there, like it’s always been meant to be.

"Couldn’t agree more," Zayn says, his voice still a little rough, but now filled with a quiet confidence. He looks at the boys with a grin. “I think I’ve been pretty patient about it. Don’t you?”

The boys all laugh again, and for a second, you feel like you’re all just a group of friends again—no more tension, no more uncertainty. Just the bond you’ve always shared, now stronger than ever.

“Yeah, definitely,” Harry says, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I think we’re all just glad you finally figured it out.”

Niall raises his glass, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “To Zayn and Y/N, finally getting their act together,” he says, his voice light but sincere.

The group laughs and raises their drinks, and you can feel the weight of their support and love, even as the teasing continues. It’s a strange relief, knowing that this won’t change anything. It won’t mess up the group dynamic. In fact, it feels like the opposite.

“We should’ve just made it a dare,” Louis adds, his grin still wide. “I mean, we all knew it was inevitable.”

Zayn rolls his eyes but leans back against the couch, his hand never leaving your side. “Yeah, Louis, well… sometimes it’s better when you let things happen on their own.”

“Sure, sure,” Louis says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever you say, mate.”

You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. It’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. There’s no more guessing, no more second-guessing every look or touch. You and Zayn are finally on the same page.

“So, now that that’s out of the way,” Harry says, breaking the moment with a wide grin, “what’s next for you two?”

You glance at Zayn, who’s looking back at you with a quiet smile on his face. “Maybe we can start by not pretending we’re not into each other?” you suggest playfully, earning a laugh from the group.

Zayn nods, his hand now resting comfortably around your shoulders. “Sounds good to me.”

And just like that, the boys are back to their usual selves—teasing, joking, and enjoying the rare moment of peace between them. But even with the lighthearted banter around you, you can’t help but feel a sense of calm. Everything feels right now. You and Zayn have finally crossed that line, and the world feels like it’s just a little bit more in sync.

Louis, Niall, Liam, and Harry all exchange knowing glances, their grins never fading, and you can tell this moment will be one you’ll look back on with a smile. Maybe it was a long time coming, but now that it’s out in the open, nothing will ever be the same—and somehow, that feels just perfect.

[lafortezaboy]

hii could we have poly sophia and lara gf headcanons if ur comfortable!

i got you! this does lean towards a 7th member au, just keep that in mind!

getting together

honestly you aren't sure at what point you started falling for both of them, but it was early into the competition that you realized you had fallen for them both

you didn't think that either of them had fallen for you back, though, so you remained quiet about it for the longest time

sophia definitely fell for you first, though lara wasn't far behind with it either

the three of you all sort of just gravitated towards each other, whether it was you and sophia, you and lara, or sophia and lara. there was always one of you with the other, if not all three together

the two of them talked to each other about how they fell for you, and there was an understanding between them that they'd accept it if you chose the other

meanwhile, you were off rambling to manon and daniela, not really knowing how to approach either of them, how to choose one over the other

when you three were all a part of the final line up, that was when manon and daniela decided they were tired of the will they won't they and decided to set you all up

the first night you all moved into the dorm, manon talked you all into a movie night, while daniela got megan and yoonchae out of the dorm

it was really awkward watching movies at first, but eventually your head rested on sophia's shoulder while your legs were on lara's lap

you eventually murmured "i could get used to this" and sophia asked what you meant. it took you a moment before you finally said "the three of us" because it felt wrong not to include one of you

that led to the three of you spilling your hearts out, and somehow it led to kisses being shared between the three of you

when the other girls came home and found lara half on your lap, with sophia clearly not bothered by it, manon said "it's about time"

actually dating

fans aren't sure who's dating who, but the ship wars entertain the hell out of you three

the only arguments you three have are about who's the middle spoon, since you all three like being held

there's no jealousy between the three of you, you're comfortable letting them spend time alone while they're comfortable letting you have one on one time with either of them

you steal their clothes more often than they take yours, but it's not uncommon for them to be wearing one of your hoodies either

sophia is the big spoiler between you three, she'll see something you or lara will like and she'll buy it without a second thought

lara likes having either of you two with her as she works on music, sophia likes having you two in the kitchen with her as she cooks

you're the clingiest, and you always go to them for cuddles because you know they can't resist you

sophia's room is the designated hangout spot for you three, or where the three of you sleep by each other at night. you room with manon and daniela, and you all know they'd bug the hell out of you. megan's not as bad, but she also teases you three. yoonchae just doesn't care, so she's the cool roommate

whenever you all travel, you three end up sharing a room together

at one point, an idol hit on you while you were in korea, and you'd never seen the two of them jealous until then

[remuswriting]

I WANT TO PROMISE YOU ETERNITY; KUROO TETSUROU

Kuroo finds a letter you never meant for him to read.

TAGS: Epistolary; Love Confessions; Pining; University AU; Male Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,846 words

NOTES: Let's hope my days of writing love letters back in high school somehow translates to now. They're both yappers but they're just guys in love, so it's okay. One day I'll write an actual fic for Kuroo, but today is not that day.

Also, I don't think pronouns are mentioned, but this is mlm. Two pathetic, down bad men in love with each other. (It makes it more enjoyable knowing that)

Dear my love,

The anonymity of calling you my love is exciting, but it’s also heart wrenching in the way that you don’t know how I think about you. You don’t know how I sit next to you praying to every God that you will look at me how I look at you; with love in your heart and desperation for me in your veins. Some days I feel like I need to be embarrassed for the intensity of these feelings, but I can’t be when you’re involved. You are the one thing my heart wants, and I accepted it long ago.

Do you remember the day everyone came over to my apartment to drink shitty beer and watch terrible movies? You and I gravitated towards each other, finding our spots next to each other like we always had. Four years of knowing each other, and the spots in my living room are assigned at this point. It brings me joy that you accepted the assigned seat next to me without hesitation. It makes me feel wanted.

But that night we got drunk and laid on the bathroom floor since you couldn’t stop throwing up. You’ve never been able to hold your alcohol, even though you constantly say you can. Whenever I pull your glass away, you reach for it as you tell me this time is different. I never believe you, but I still indulge you because I can’t stand seeing you pout. That night had been like any other, though, where you had begged me to let you have another drink and I caved like the pathetic man I am. So, we laid on the bathroom floor, staring at the ceiling, and that’s when you asked me about reincarnation.

“Do you believe in it?” you asked, and I remember looking at you. Your side profile is so stunning, especially when your hair is out of your face. It makes it easier to see the light freckles from the sun underneath your eyes.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought much of it.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time, and I looked back at the ceiling. We stuck glow in the dark stickers up there years ago when Bokuto-san complained about how scary my apartment could be at night. Akaashi-san corrected him, saying that Bokuto-san is simply scared of the dark and that was it. I didn’t mind putting the stars up, really it matches me in a way, and I never took them down, especially after you grew fond of looking up at them as if they were real.

“I think I do,” you said, and I felt you looking at me before I saw it. “I think reincarnation happens until we find our soulmate.”

I’ve always loved your eyes, the hazel of them so striking it takes me by surprise every time. They were focused on me and nothing else. It was just a little hard to breathe.

“Or what if we reincarnate so we can spend more time with our soulmate? What if it’s meant to give us all the time in the universe to relearn them and love them again and again?” I asked, and I didn’t really believe what I was saying. I was still tipsy, but the idea of you really listening to me was intoxicating.

You slowly nodded, as if you’ve never considered that before. “I think I prefer that way more,” you said with a faint smile. “You know, being able to love the one you’re meant to in every lifetime. It sounds better than being lonely for who knows how long.”

I hummed in agreement, but I wanted to tell you that I didn’t care about reincarnation if it meant you weren’t the one I’d love for countless lifetimes. Honestly, I think I’d damn my soulmate before I ever stopped loving you, no matter when or where we met. Ever since we met in Japanese Literature our second year of university, I knew you would consume my entire heart and soul, never letting go even if you didn’t even know you were holding on.

Our conversation ended there when you quickly sat back up and grabbed the toilet seat to throw up. I hurried to your side to make sure your hair didn’t get in the way, because although I’d clean the vomit out of your hair, I wasn’t eager to do it.

But I’ve been thinking about soulmates and reincarnation ever since, and I have things I want to say but don’t know how to. I’ve never known how to bring things up to you without the fear that I’m revealing my feelings for you. What I feel for you is desperation to be seen and loved. I want to hold your attention to where you can’t look away and pray that you never have to. Hold me close to you, kissing my forehead before placing your chin on top of my head. I know my hair would tickle your nose, and you’d feel the urge to pull away but find you can’t.

I don’t know if we’re soulmates, and it’s okay if we’re not, but I would pick you over anyone the universe assigned to me. If I were to have someone else, then it’s clear the universe doesn’t know me or my heart well enough to know it’s you, Tetsurou. You’re the person who I’d choose in a million lifetimes. You’re the person I’d be reincarnated for centuries just so I could see you smile once. The concept of it being anyone else is so ridiculous to me, because I fell hard and fast for you. Our friends tell me to make my move, that maybe you feel the same, but I can’t. I resign myself to writing these letters and imagining a world where one of us confesses because I don’t know if it’ll ever happen in this one.

Any confession between us will have to be from you, because the words are always lodged in my throat. I could never confess through a letter, because I don’t want you to know how deeply I love you. Or at least I don’t want you to know yet. Maybe one day you’ll confess and eventually I’ll share the entirety of my heart with you like I want to. It’s a dream I doubt I’ll ever see come true.

Just know that if soulmates exist, then you’re the one I’d pick. I would intertwine my soul with yours for the rest of eternity if I could, just so we would always meet in every lifetime.

With love,

Y/N

Dear Y/N,

Bokuto found this letter and saw my name written at the bottom. He didn’t read it, but he gave it to me to read. Don’t be mad at him, because he didn’t know what he was doing. All he thought was that he was giving me something that belonged to me, even though that’s not what this is. I am not gifted with words like you are. You’re able to convey feelings in a way I don’t think I even know how to, but I’ll try. I’m really going to try.

My crush on you started three weeks into knowing you. We ran into each other at the library when I was looking for a table and you had all of your stuff spread across one. I recognized you from class, so I asked if I could sit with you. Honestly, I was terrified that you’d tell me to go away, even though you didn’t seem like that kind of person. Instead, you smiled and moved your stuff over so I could sit down. That’s when you officially asked my name, and the way you said it made my heart do flips.

Although I don’t entirely remember the conversation about reincarnation, which I doubt you’ll be surprised if I don’t remember since I forget half of what happens when I’m drunk, I believe in us. I don’t really care about soulmates and reincarnation if I have you, because being fulfilled in this life is more important to me than in the previous or future. I just know I want to spend this life with you for as long as I can. Even if it’s full of laying on the bathroom floor drunk or going to those festivals you love so much or going to the library and watching you study for hours on end. I don’t care what we fill it with as long as it’s filled with you.

Kenma constantly tells me that I need to get my head out of my ass and talk to you, but I don't know how. You’re someone I care about so much, and I don’t want to lose you. The idea of losing you scares me so much I feel sick if I think about it for too long. So I’ve kept all these feelings to myself, even though I’ve known how I feel.

I remember when I realized I loved you. It was at the library again, but this time you had come looking for me. I’d been there for I don’t know how long, running off no sleep and not eating for way too long. You stomped over to my table and gave me a look that scared me. I really thought you were going to kill me for a second, if I’m being honest. But then you started putting my stuff up and said, “We’re leaving.”

I fought with you over it, and we nearly got kicked out of the library, but you didn’t flinch. You just continued on, putting my stuff in my backpack, and the moment I realized I loved you was when you looked at me and asked me when the last time I ate was, and when I didn’t have an answer, you said “that’s exactly why we’re leaving.” My friends care about me, I know they do, but they’ve never cared for me the way you do. They never marched into the library because I wasn’t answering their texts or calls and wasn’t eating or sleeping. Did they show their concern? Yes, but not like you did. I wanted to feel loved like that for the rest of my life.

So, please call me your love. Please tell me how you feel, because I’ve felt this way for so long that it’s grown painful at this point holding it in. I don’t know how to tell you in beautiful words like you can, but I love you, Y/N. I love you so much, it may be just a little embarrassing. I just never knew I could say it aloud without the fear of it ruining everything. Now I know it won’t ruin anything. It’ll actually be the start of something I’ve been wanting for so long.

I will be at our spot in the park on Wednesday at 13:00. Please meet me there so we can actually talk in person, because letters make it difficult to kiss you and hug you.

With love,

Tetsurou

[bodybeyondstories]

SOLID GOLD - Packin'

A magic boombox in a dance studio causes random changes to unsuspecting victims. When the only attendee for a class is the dance instructor's straight crush, it decides to play Packin', by FHAT.

[ ass expansion // dick growth // self suck ]

2028 words

Someone sent in a prompt months ago about a thicc fitness dance instructor with a magic boombox and I took some time to think about it (thank you, whoever you are!). It might make for a fun ongoing series of music based tf episodes. Also for a while I've been wanting to write something in the vein of one of my favorite series, "The pinball machine".

-----

“Solid Gold. Connected.” The tinny, vaguely feminine robot voice chimed in the studio instead of, as I had been expecting, the tinny, vaguely masculine robot voice of our actual sound system.

“You’re back,” I said, glancing down at the stately, gold plated boombox that had just materialized in the exact center of the room.“Been a while.” 

I looked at my phone for confirmation, nodding at a screen that now displayed only a golden bluetooth symbol and wouldn’t respond to my touch until…well, until…

“Wait, no one’s here,” I said to the otherwise empty room, announcing to no one that my dance workout class did in fact have zero attendance.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, dude,” came a familiar voice. “You didn’t start yet, did you?” He looked around and sighed. “You already finished, didn’t you? I can’t believe I got the time wrong again, I set an alarm and everything–”

“No,” I interrupted. “You’re fine, we didn’t start yet. Because there was no ‘we’ here in the first place, I guess.”

“Well now we’re a we,” he beamed, splaying his arms wide. “With plenty of room to stretch.”

Famous last words. 

Sid was a gem. Generous. Engaging. Warm. Open. Adorable. And very tragically straight. Though I appreciated his enthusiastic support of my workout classes, there was an added layer of chaos to this one in the center of the room. A golden sun getting ready to make some gravitational shifts.

“Sweet boombox,” he said, bending down to inspect the device. “Retro. Where’d you even get this?”

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, I thought. “It was sort of already here. Comes with the place.”

Which was technically true. It’s a little bit of an urban legend among the folks who work here, and everyone’s got their own speculation about how and why it appears. My running theory is that the boombox is always there. Has always been there. But exists in some other dimension, crossing the veil at seemingly random times and causing…changes in unsuspecting bystanders.

Here’s the thing. I like to think I’m in pretty good shape. I’m a fitness trainer, I clock in and run my little classes, I’m decently toned and tapered from shoulder to waist. When I first started here, I would do my thing, work up a sweat in my booty shorts to get the class going, give ‘em a little shake if the mood was right. When the boombox first appeared, I thought it was a prank from my co-workers, like I was being indoctrinated into the collective delusion of the workplace. Then my phone connected automatically, but somehow the playlist was out of my control. I went along with it, wondering how they pulled that off, moving the class through warm up, then moving through each track, adapting dance moves on the fly as the rhythm of the music shifted. 

I thought I was doing great and the group seemed like they were loving it, so I turned up the intensity a little, getting into some deeper leg movements, really targeting hip mobility. As if on queue, the playlist shifted to “Bootylicious" and the crowd went wild. I leaned into it, turning the climax of the class into a high intensity glute workout, getting even more into it as I felt my skimpy shorts get tighter and tighter.

Move your body up and down Make your booty touch the ground I can't help but wonder why Is my vibe too vibealacious for you, babe? 

It felt like I had an incredible pump, like my perky posterior was the center of the world if not the center of attention.

I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly I don't think you're ready for this jelly I don't think you're ready for this

As we went into the final chorus, the pump…pumped. I can’t explain it but I could feel my ass inflating with each repetition of I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly. My shorts slowly rode up my butt, exposing the bottom half of my cheeks and threatening to reveal the bikini briefs I had hastily thrown on that morning.

As I shifted us into a cool down, I casually tugged the hems of my shorts back down to a more presentable level, but found that I couldn’t. Pump was so good they got stuck, I chuckled to myself. They felt painted on. As I guided the group into a twist, letting one hand drop towards the opposite foot and turning at the waist. Instead of my cute bubble in the mirror, I was greeted with one of the fattest asses I had ever laid eyes on.

'Cause my body too bootylicious for ya, babe

I stared, dumbfounded, staying in that position for an oddly long time, afraid that if I moved, and my reflection moved, it would verify that I was indeed the owner of a massive bubble booty that had appeared out of nowhere. My heart skipped a beat as with one final spasm, it visibly plumped a little more.

“That’s…um. That’s it for today,” I stammered, swinging back upright, trying to hide the confusion in my face. “Great class today.” My cheeks burned as I felt the globes of my ass swish back and forth with each stride towards the boombox. I bent down to turn it off, eliciting more than a few gasps from the crowd, only to realize it was…gone. Just vanished in a blink, leaving behind a pair of supercharged glutes straining my gym shorts to the limit.

The ensuing months confirmed the institutional lore that I’d gathered from my coworkers. The boombox appeared seemingly at random, picked one victim, and didn’t like to repeat itself, which I especially hoped was true, seeing as adjusting my wardrobe for a sudden monster booty isn’t something I’d like to do again. So when it appeared in a class with just me and Sid, the writing was on the wall.

“Let’s hope it’s not too extreme,” I said to myself, acutely feeling the jiggle of my ass cheeks as I led us through the warm up music.

It was going well. As things picked up, the awkwardness of a mostly empty class was washed away by Sid’s friendly enthusiasm. As one of my semi-regulars, he knew my movement style, and could really get into it whenever I threw a curveball or decided to build the intensity. Through it all, Sid puffed through labored breaths, smiling through the tank top glued to his chest with sweat. He had been getting better at this, more confident in his movements, even adding his own flair to the beat. I was smitten by his energetic grin, returning the favor with a twist here and there to keep him on his toes. We were in a groove, just the two of us working it out to the rhythm.

But then the track switched. My eyes widened as I recognized the funky bassline of a queer pop duo that I was familiar with but hadn’t included on any of my playlists.  

Let’s get on the topic I can read your mind It’d be my pleasure To bring you back to life

“Oh, I love this song!” Sid exclaimed, riding a wave of newfound energy.

Oh really. A chill ran through my gut. I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination or the boombox was chuckling to itself in some subsonic register that only I could detect. But it had begun. Just see it through, I thought, improvising the moves to let my hips flow to FHAT’s high pitched melody.

Baby I really got to know Whatcha packin’

Sid’s performance of confidence cracked into discomfort, his eyes flitting down to his crotch, almost too quickly to notice. 

Cuz lately You’re really starting to show Whatcha packin’

He stumbled briefly, shaking his head in confusion as he tried to casually adjust his bulge. His very, very prominent bulge.

Heard all the gossip From a friend of mine

Based on word of mouth and locker room run-ins, I was pretty sure Sid was already packing some hefty meat in his shorts, though you’d never guess it by his adorably dopey demeanor. Maybe it’ll just be mild this time, I tried to convince myself. What’s the worst that could really happen…

It’d be my pleasure To see it with my own eyes

I couldn’t keep from fantasizing about that impressive tool becoming even bigger. I kept up with the movements, shaking my ass to the beat. Sid did his best to follow suit, but the increasing weight in his crotch was throwing him off. It was tantalizing as it bounced back and forth, like it was physically impossible to look anywhere else other than the hose inflating in his pants.

Cuz lately You’re really starting to show

His crotch visibly distended during the final chorus, his face a contortion of surprise and terror, no longer able to keep up with the workout as his dick lurched–

Whatcha packin’

And flopped out of the leg of his gym shorts. It bobbed in the air just above his knee, a rope of precum trailing from his mushroom head.

“Shit!” he exclaimed. He tried to shove his monster cock back into the leg of his pants to no avail. His face clouded with panic. “I, uh, need to run to the bathroom. Be right back!” He practically sprinted out of the studio, his gait wobbling with the awkwardness of the bulge snaking across his thigh.

“Wow,” I muttered, looking towards the center of the room. “You outdid yourself this–”

The boombox was gone, back to the ether.

I ran after Sid, slipping into the bathroom and following the sound of groans to the last stall.

“Hey, bud,” I said, interrupting the frustrated moans and heavy breathing coming from behind the door. “Can I help with anything?” I asked, attempting to sound like I wasn’t fully aware of the cause of the baseball bat that suddenly sprang from his crotch.

“I don’t think you can…I mean…I don’t know what’s happening to…ugh…to me…to my, oof…Look, it’s kind of a weird situation.”

“I’ve seen some weird situations,” I answered. “Trust me.”

A deliberative pause hung between us. “Don’t, like, tell anyone, okay?”

I punched the air. “Yeah, of course. Happy to help.”

The door slowly opened to reveal that the boombox really had outdone itself. I had Sid pegged as big before, but nothing resembling the veiny chest high erection threatening to smear precum in the scruff under his chin.

“It…it won’t go down,” he moaned. He gripped his pipe with both hands, unable to reach all the way around its circumference. I could see it pulse bigger with his heartbeat, his head lolling back with another gush of pre. He began stroking the length of his behemoth with urgency. “Sorry, it feels so full. So good…I can’t stop…”

He was in agony and ecstasy. His fingers squelched through an endless stream of precum. He was desperate for release.

“Can I…help?” I offered, gesturing to the acres of sensitive real estate along his shaft begging to be massaged.

But he didn’t seem to hear. I could practically see the lightbulb appear over his head as he made eye contact with the piss slit inches from his face. Like he had already forgotten I was there. His lips parted and descended. He took as much of his own head as he could fit in his mouth. His eyes rolled back as he began to work up and down, taking more and more of his own anaconda into his throat. 

I was frozen in the doorway. All I could do was watch as he built toward sweet release, gallons of cum suddenly filling his cheeks and flooding out of his lips, his full body wracked by orgasmic pleasure as rope after rope of jizz erupted from his oversized member.

His cock, finally spent, fell out of his mouth with a pop and began to droop down over his thigh. He leaned his head back, breathed out in relief, seemed to suddenly remember I was there.

“Oh, um,” he stammered, cheeks blushing. “Great session.”

[eloquentcoconut]

☆The First Rule Of Book Club: You Do Not Talk About Book Club ☆

Synopsis: Thorn and Sebek, from enemies, to frenemies, back to enemies, right? One of the first of many of Thorn and Sebek's book club shenanigans.

Word Count: 1,982

Notes: I love Pride & Prejudice, could I make it any more obvious? I've teased some of the features in this fic way back in my twst baby names post.

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Grim entered Ramshackle’s lounge and ‘slammed’ an envelope sealed in dark green wax bearing Diasomnia’s crest onto the coffee table. “This has got to be from that loud mouthed guy - should I just burn it?” 

I chuckle at Grim’s sentiment - it's no secret that Sebek and I often butt heads, we often rub each other the wrong way, and on occasion argue, but I don’t think we’re enemies by any means.

Like that time in the library, where I got so fed up with him adding ‘for a human’ and the end of all his ‘compliments’ that I bit him and told him if he didn’t obey all my commands, by the next full moon he would become a magicless human. And for some reason he believed me and it snowballed into a crazy rumor, and became a huge mess where Diasomnia got involved… It was nuts.

Or that time at the stables where he tried to get back at me for telling him to fall off his horse, so he said, ‘perhaps it is YOU that should ‘eat manure and die’ and I responded, ‘eat shit and live Sebek.’

And most recently was gym class, we had to rotate between a few sports like volleyball, badminton, and basketball, and somehow, he always ‘accidentally’ managed to hit the back of my head with projectiles. I filled his gym bag with ice cubes and put my ice pack down the front of his pants.  

I squint my eyes at the memories. ‘Maybe we are…?’

“Let’s read it first to check who it's actually from.” I opened the pristine white envelope to reveal aged cardstock, written in non-too refined scrawl but the alternating green and silver sparkled ink was a nice touch. I think someone possessed Sebek though, all the little hearts floating around are just plain goofy and so unlike him.

{DEAR♡ST HUM♡N,}

{IT IS ♡NDER THE GUIDANC♡ OF MY M♡NTOR ♡ILIA THAT I CORDIALLY} {♡NVITE Y♡U TO THE DIASOMNIA LOUN♡E TO PA♡TAKE IN O♡R ♡OOK} {CLUB.}

{AWAITING YO♡R CO♡RESPONDENCE,}

{- ZIG♡OLT.}

Grim and I turn to one another. “This has got to be some sort of prank! No sane person writes like *that.*” Grim points his paw at the discarded letter. 

I shrug. “I guess I’ll find out after classes are over today.”

“Count me out of it!” Grim shouts.

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‘Since I can’t find my missing sock at the dorm, I probably dropped it here. It shouldn’t be too hard to spot.’ Searching by the riverbed, embedded behind the school, many of the trees are barren and the ground is blanketed in warm shades of browns and amber from the fallen leaves. 

As I examined the area, a few bunnies hop diagonally from me, I can’t help but to follow them with my head and spot a silver headed person resting against a stump. ‘Is that…?’

Squirrels, bunnies, and songbirds gravitate around Silver - some even nestled on and around him like a shield against the cold. I crouch down next to Silver and place a hand against his forehead to see if he’s alright. Slowly he stirs awake and looks up at me.

Instantly I’m mesmerized by his eye color. I’ve always thought Silver’s eyes were similar to a mellow violet, but up close, it's almost as if there’s waves of pink and blue. “Whoa your eyes… They really are like an aurora.” 

Silver remains silent for a while, until he gives a soft smile. “Your eyes are like starlight, comforting grey with flecks of gold.” 

Shyly smiling, I extend my hand to Silver to help him up. “I was just checking to see if you were alright, there’s frost in the air, it’ll snow soon. If you sleep out here, you may end up buried or sick.” 

“That’s very responsible of you…You’re Thorn Silvanus right?”

I nod. “And you must be Silver.” 

Silver yawns. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Sebek, whether I want to or not. I hope you don’t dislike Sebek or feel turned away from Diasomnia.”

I let out a hum as I walked with Silver. “I don’t dislike Sebek, I think him thinking my mere existence a scandal by calling me human is funnier more than anything. It's fun to tease someone so serious.”

Silver chuckles. “Oh yes, fa-Lilia and I often tease Sebek too.”

I rub my arms together to warm up. “I’m not sure what Sebek’s issue is with humans though. The way he separates himself from them… Constantly elevating anything related to fae and putting down human stuff it's like he’s projecting? I know he probably looks down on me as much as any other human, but I don’t feel envious of those with magic or jealous of fae… It’s like he has internalized racism?”

Silver’s eyes widen to the point he looks actually awake. “You got all of that from his thundering speeches?’ 

I lightly laugh. “I do read a lot, but that’s just speculation on my part, I could be entirely wrong.” 

Silver places his robe overtop of me. It's my turn to look caught off guard. “You looked cold. My animal friends have kept me warm, wear it until we reach Diasomnia. I’ve heard Sebek was expecting you.” 

“Did you have a choice not to?” Silver and I laugh as we walk to the mirror chamber. 

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The creek of the large oak doors alerted the occupants in the lounge. Sebek’s face twisted as he spotted Silver and I. “You know one another?! And you’re both so familiar already?!”

 I glance at Silver and smirk, “we’ve met before.”

“Once upon a dream.” Silver finishes. 

“Fufufufu! This is a classic exchange from one of my favorite soaps! Whereas the prince charms his way to the heart of the female lead by being himself.” Lilia giggles.  

Sebek squawks and says, “THERE’S NO WAY SILVER WOULD HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THAT HUMAN!” 

 I ignore the comment in favor of riling him up. 

I remove Silver’s coat and neatly fold it, handing it back to him. “Thanks Aurora.” 

“Thanks, Starlight.” Silver gives a polite bow and walks off. 

Lilia clutches his imaginary pearls. “Egad! The drama continues to unravel! What will unfold next?”

I shoot Lilia a grin while I hold out a book for Sebek. “After reading your favorite, I’d like to introduce you to mine: ‘Pride & Prejudice.’” 

Sebek scoffs and loudly criticizes the novel. “Of course you’d pick one of the lowest forms of literature, a romance, second worst to comedy!”

I bring the book back to my bag. “Take this in any way you like, SHUT UP Mr. Darcy!”

Many people in the lounge have paused in their activities to bear witness the infamous ‘Sebek and Thorn argument.’ Murmurs and whispers begin to clutter the space.  

Sebek was about to counter, finger raised, when Lilia reigned him in. “Might I suggest taking your qualms to your dorm room Sebek?” 

Sebek blushes in embarrassment. “Fine! The lounge is unsuitable for a quiet activity anyways.”

Sebek grabs my wrist and leads me to a winding staircase. 

“Unhand me you croc!” I attempt to remove my wrist, twisting and pulling, but that only leads to Sebek interlocking our fingers together.  

 “Be silent!” He spoke loudly.

 “BUY my silence!” I glare back. 

“Mind your steps, these stairs are steep!” Sebek yells back, taking the lead on the narrow staircase. 

“Thanks for the head’s up!” Shortly after, our quarrel resumes.

Our bickering fades the further we go, Lilia gasps, a scheme of his own brewing. “Spicy!”  

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‘Hmm. Sebek’s room is so ordinary and quite frankly boring. The dark academia aesthetic matches the rest of the castle… Dark velvet greens, books and weights, yeah bro works out at the library and studies the blade headass.’ Scanning the room, I spot a large portrait of Malleus hanging on the wall. Internally I sigh. ‘I’m not even going to ask. We know the answer.’  

Without much fanfare we start reading. Sebek sits on the edge of his bed while I sit at his study desk. After a while, I decided to ask Sebek some questions while he read. 

“Sebek, are you close to the second or third ball?”

Sebek let out a hum, “the second one I believe.”

Laughing to myself I tease him. “Go faster Sebek!”

Sebek frowns and goes to stand from his bed, not setting the book down. Unfortunately, Sebek is a bit of an airhead, and he trips over his weights, bumping into the furniture in the process and lets out a series of painful groans.

He quickly places himself back on the bed as if nothing had happened, his barley masked pained expression does nothing to ease my discomfort. I couldn’t help but exclaim, “OH MY GOD SEBEK! Are you okay?” 

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“Hey Grim, where’s Thorn?” Ace looked around the track field. 

Grim sat up. “What happened to ‘hello Grim’ or ‘how are you’? We’re not together all the time ya know!”

“Sheesh! I was only asking a question lint ball!” Ace countered. 

Deuce returned with Jack, where Grim and Ace were to rehydrate. Grim was attempting to break some Maginness World Records and had taken rest atop of their gym bags. 

Everyone silently looked at Grim expectantly. “Thorn’s with that green haired fae at Diasomnia for their book club.” 

Deuce tilted his head. “Really? They still have a club together? I didn’t think Thorn and Sebek got along that well.” 

Ace had a lightbulb moment. “I’ve heard of stuff like this from my older brother. Enemies sometimes get so heated they get personal and take things back to their room! They’re going to smash!”

Jack scowled. “I don’t think we should be jumping to conclusions.”  

“I knew that letter was suspect!” Grim crossed his arms.

“They’re going to smash? We gotta give Thorn back up!” Deuce’s delinquent side threatened to pop out.

Jack huffed. “I think we should mind our business and wait for Thorn or Sebek to tell us what’s going on.” 

“Let’s go rescue my hench-human!” Grim declared.

Jack watched as the trio rushed off, no doubt to cause more damage than if they left well enough alone. “...Idiots.”

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“Lilia-senpai! Have you seen Thorn and Sebek?” Ace asked.

“Yeah, it's kind of a big deal. We gotta stop them from smashing!” Deuce added.

Lilia, ever the prankster, went along with their little game. “Fufufu, as the saying goes ‘fighting cats are sure to have kittens.’ They’re in Sebek’s dorm room. Though I doubt there will be much brawling going on.”

“Sebek that dog!”

“Cat you mean, no offence Grim.” 

“None taken. BECAUSE I’M NOT A CAT!” 

Lilia guided the misinformed trio to the outside of Sebek’s dorm room and instructed them to wait. Curiouser and Curiouser, they pressed their ears against the door to see if they could hear anything of concern. 

“Sebek are you close?” Thorn questioned sweetly. 

‘Not so strange…’ The trio thought.

“Go faster Sebek!” Thorn urged.

‘A little weird but nothing out of the ordinary…?’ The trio thought.

Not long after, the shifting of furniture and groans rang out.

“OH MY GOD SEBEK!” Thorn cried out. 

‘!!! UHH!’ The trio thought in concern!

The door suddenly flies open! “Aha! Busted! You two are smashing!” Ace accuses. Deuce and Grim have fallen to the floor while Lilia cackles as he floats around. 

Sebek and I looked at one another confused for a moment. “We are? Sebek you should have told me; I would have put my book down.” 

Sebek makes a bewildered face, absolutely lost, with no signs of connecting shit.