#squeezed monty in at the end but i still got him in there with the rest of em babyyy 👍

[magicicephoenix]

guess who impulsively made an animation!! :D

the sillies,,,

[satoruhour]

i need jealous racer geto hes js so whudurieiw and the way u write about himm🤭🤭

LUVRGIRL

a/n: eeuuughh idk whether to like this or not but enjoy nonetheless !!! not so much of racing but the sentiment is there lol. previous part (lloromannic) here / @screampied @kizoken @t4kio @redskyvenus @mysugu @suguruplsr @slttygeto ✶

wc: 6.3k

warnings: racer!geto, soft dom!geto, fem!reader, sprinkle of fluff, pet names, praise, ldr, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), fantasising, daisuke is being annoying again!!!!, sorta jealousy plot point, brief dry humping, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, fingering, unprotected p -> v sex, breeding / creampie kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the next six months were torture, indefinitely. it was an endless heap of assignments, of deadlines, of long-distance calls with your love that you both were so close to booking flights of your own. university was brutal, too. on top of tuition fees and getting the materials for your classes, it was heart-wrenching to even look at the prices of the flights from your country to japan, so you bit down your pride and subjected yourself to settling for the long-distance arrangement.

“hey, baby,” geto mumbles sleepily and your frown deepens upon forgetting that tuesdays was where he slept early. you still had to call, though, but you realise it too late when he answers with that groggy, raspy voice of his. there’s some ruffling behind the call, no doubt the sounds of his bedsheets as he gets himself comfortable while you huddle at the small nook of your room that’s next to the window.

from here you can see the sun setting, a totally different story in japan where you can hear geto yawn and down a glass of water next to his bed.

“shit . . sorry su, i forgot—”

he scrambles to reassure you, awake and sat up, “no! no— no, it’s okay . .” you wince when you hear him yawn yet again, but this time he sounds a little more in the realm of consciousness. you’re unaware of the smile forming on his face just from hearing your voice, fidgety fingers squeezing and releasing the duvet over him, “what are you up to, my love?”

you hum into the phone and you’ve never wanted to backpack across the seven seas to see someone so bad before. now on month nine, your excitement’s become even more prominent at wanting to end the semester as soon as possible, willing your lips not to mutter out the arrangement you’ve been planning with his group of friends.

“just needed a break from studying for finals. i’m dying,” you lament over the line and your heart flutters at his chuckle, something you miss against your ears and skin immensely, “just wish you were here . .”

“yeah?” and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and rub your thighs together at the soft, rough yeah he mumbles out. you can imagine it too: sitting against his headboard half-naked while the duvet pools around his waist area. he’s sitting there like plaster sculpted by Monti while his hair flows around him. you almost squeal and your boyfriend only catches just the start of it.

“what? what was that?” he asks and your hand is clasped so hard over your mouth like a captor’s got your hostage, but you only let out a breath.

“n-nothing,” you laugh, picking yourself up from the nook and getting yourself comfortable in bed. it’s been a long day of studying, anyway, and your next exam isn’t until five days later. you could afford some downtime, right?

“but,” you sigh, turning on your side and sneakily slipping a hand into your pants, “my day’s boring. it’s all studyin’. why don’t you tell me what you did today, instead?” you can hear your parents already preparing dinner outside, but you press on and try to drain out the intrusive noises of cutlery and porcelain and the incessant calls of your mom to your dad for some help on the stove. 

“alright,” he drags the word out and laughs again, getting comfortable in his bed just like you do, but your end goals are entirely different, “but it is pretty boring as well. it was maintenance day today.”

“oh!” you remember him briefly mentioning that the other day — since halloween was approaching, there was bound to be more patrolling policemen around the streets and underground, so races had to be put on hold for the meantime. there was still other more secluded areas to race, but geto didn’t want to risk his Mazda being taken away nor for a stain to appear on his clean academic record.

“changing the crankshaft? i know the old one was giving you loads of trouble,” you mumble, feeling your cunt pulse and throb from the breathing you can hear over the line, “among . . other things.”

“yeah, my baby’s so smart for remembering, huh?” he praises, continuing to go on about his day. while it was merely taking-care-of-his-car day, it was still way more eventful than yours. he had went on a solo day out to your beloved café to relish in the good times, he had hung out with gojo for a while and drank some beer atop the mountain they frequented, even went out for some arcade fun.

“unfortunately—” geto’s low voice spurs you on. you’ve been lazily rubbing at your pussy, just humming into the phone while you only descend more and more into pleasure, “it’s taken a hole out of my allowance, i guess. my dad’s more generous with the parts that he gives me but at the same time i feel like he knows what i’m doing underground.”

he laughs and you fake a giggle, but your breaths are starting to get heavier with each sentence he utters, mind filling with flashbacks of how many ways he’s bent you over to fuck you, drunk on the phantom-like winds upon your ear that sound like he’s whispering all those filthy things to you. “and . . just missin’ my girl.”

“how’ve you been, baby?” he asks with a low voice, like he knows what you’re doing and the term of possession only has you sucking in a breath, fingers slip inside you after possibly a decade of teasing and you find it hard to answer. “darling?”

“y-yeah, ’m still here,” you pant out, afraid of being caught, but your voice quivers enough just for geto to catch on to what you were up to. he didn’t fault you, though (he never blames his girl), but there is a small smirk that forms on his face. he purposely lowers his voice even more, if it was possible, mirroring and mimicking your breathy tone when talking to him.

but with one hand that goes down to his pelvis, he doesn’t have to mimic you at all, hand palming languidly at his bulge. in the dead of the night, there wasn’t much need to keep his voice down in order to hear the pretty moans falling from your mouth; he does anyway.

it’s too shitty of a reception especially with your nokia’s, so he hears the artificial, metallic-like voice coming from his phone, but your sounds are just too lovely, transcending the robotic-ness of a phone call. and it’s like you’re actually there, smiling mischievously at him while stroking his cock and teasing him the way he liked to be teased.

“s-sugu?” you mumble, mind heading into the extremes and confident now that he’s just weirded out and silent, but it’s anything but that.

“yes, baby?” he hums, smiling to himself when he hears rustling over the phone and he can imagine you lifting your hips to remove your panties, tossing it somewhere across the room. “wanna tell me what you’re doin’?” 

you suck in a breath — so he knows — but suguru always knows everything so you’re whining into the receiver, pleasantly surprised when he replies with a deep groan that only makes you clench around nothing.

“that’s right . .” he drawls and you hear a soft thud over the line, and now you’re the one quieting your movements just to hear your boyfriend, the faint shlick shlick sounds of his hand along his cock. geto gasps when he squeezes his tip just like how you do it, pre-cum starting to leak. “need you h-here, doll . .”

you mewl softly and start the hand on your clit again, abandoning the tight hold around your phone just so you can use the other to slip your fingers into your warm cunt. it doesn’t even compare to the thickness and length of geto’s dick, but you have to work with what you have. with head turned toward the speaker, your boyfriend has gone non-verbal, too, moaning like a slut into the receiver.

“suguru, i’m— please . .” you whine softly, hips bucking into your hands, “doesn’t feel as g— good.”

geto coos inwardly at your needy voice, mouth falling open at his rock hard cock. it’s so hard that it hurts, left to merely fuck his fleshlight whenever he could and use his hand on other days. he missed your sweet fucking pussy so, so much, just picturing your beautiful arched back that lifts off the sheets and your shaking thighs. he imagines your perfect pout on your face as you finger yourself, unsatisfied, obviously, begging him with tugs to his hands and his eyes flutter close.

“i know, baby, and ’m sorry,” he mumbles, taking the nokia from his ear to put it right up to his relentless pumping and you swallow, the slick, wet sounds more clear now. “but you hear what ya do t’me, don’t you?”

“mhm . .” you trail off, thinking of his fat cock impaling you instead, and you follow his actions to a T, bringing it right to your sopping cunt and geto has to scrunch his already shut eyes just to wish that his hand was your pussy. your hand is getting tired, he’s sure, but you finger yourself so prettily his hand easily speeds up, giving his shaft periodic squeezes.

“so wet, suguu . .” you drag out his name, already feeling your high approach soon, but you want the both of you to cum together. “i miss you stretchin’ me out . .” a hiss from suguru, “i miss your cum spilling out of me.”

that has geto choking out a whine, “f—fuck, sweetheart, don’t say that. i do miss g-giving you all of my cum—”

the filthiness of everything contributes to all your senses, parents omitted from memory, your finals at the back of your mind and only focusing on the envelope that resides on your bedside table containing a plane ticket. in one week you’d be able to see him again — a sweet treat given to you by gojo and nanami with their combined expenses.

you didn’t even know how you could thank them and while nanami waves you off for any payback, gojo did say you could treat him to anything in that café. it was difficult not to be excited, a louder whine drawn from your throat again and he laughs breathlessly, voice down low and distraught.

“any particular reason w-why my girl’s so needy lately—?”

geto basically chokes out his question while you shake your head until you remember that he can’t see you, answering with a broken “no”.

you resist the urge to spill on the exact reason — your mind spiralling from the anticipation of meeting him, the many, many lewd memories you’ve made over six months, his just-woken-up voice — because he’d never let you live it down.

“c-close, suguru—” your thighs are squeezed tight around your tired hand, sensitive from the immense overstimulation, “’m g’nna cum soon—!”

“me too, my love,” geto’s eyes are back open, trained on his cock and watching the sheer neediness shown in his weeping tip and bucking hips. he needs this, he needs you, and once you’re submitting your final paper, he’s sure to look at flights right to your doorstep.

“i’m c—” you’re whining out, body totally turned over and lying on your stomach as you chase your high, fuelled by the deep guttural groans of your boyfriend. your lips and mind are only filled with suguru, suguru, suguru, not even caring that your sheets are soaked and your fingers are cramping.

“baby, baby, baaaby . . s—shit—” geto reaches his release first, mind filled with replenished memories of your tight pussy hugging his cock, spurts of white spilling all over himself with a loud groan and you’re left to listen out for the desperate sounds of your boyfriend miles away, lengthening his climax as he continues to pump himself. “cum all over your fingers, doll . .”

suguru coaxes in that sweet voice of his, mumbling deep into the phone only for you. “doing so, so good, aren’t ya?” the quietness on his end, the slow lazy stroking of his hand again, and you’re cumming all over your fingers, eyes blown wide from the orgasm that he talks you through while you ride it out on your mediocre fingers. your mouth is stained with endless profanities and moans mixed with geto’s name, muffled by the bedsheets you’re so harshly biting into to prevent any loud, unbecoming sounds.

“that good?” he asks with a laugh, yawning yet again and you feel guilty again—

“i’m sorry, s—”

“no. don’t, doll, don’t apologise,” suguru brushes his thumb over his thigh, partially wiping off the cum and partially hoping he can relax the furrow of your brow like he always does. “you’re frowning and your shoulders are up, probably, relax . .”

you sigh, another thing that geto values a lot and has taught to you; deep breaths and untensing all parts of your body.

“good girl, was that good?”

“the phone sex or the deep breaths?”

geto grins. god, he missed you so fucking much — “both.”

“both was very good, thank you very much,” you giggle, not paying much mind to the way you remove your fingers from your cunt, turning over to the bedside table to take some tissues, “although the sex was a little better.”

“aw, no wins for the intense, groundbreaking, spirit-calming deep breaths?”

you shake your head (you’ve got to stop doing that), “ehh . . it was alright.”

geto’s reluctant sleepiness grants you a few more minutes together, his words starting to slur more and more the longer you were on the line, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it. with fatigue came the words laced with unhindered affection, murmuring softly about hoping to see you soon, to feel you, to kiss you, and you expressed the same sentiment back to him.

the other switches the output to speaker, wanting to take in the messily taken profile pic he set your contact with. a blurred, blinding smile with his face squished against yours; a little below the two of you, berry and cherry clutched within your palms, doing the same. “can my girl do her best for her finals?”

“i can’t promise the best, but i’ll try . . okay?”

geto hums, a soft smile on his face. he’s cleaned up by now, new sweatpants on and duvet pulled right to his neck while he stares at your face, the pixels of the nokia never diluting your beauty.

“attagirl. have a good dinner, lovergirl.”

that knocks some breath out of you, and you grin like a schoolgirl.

“have a goodnight’s sleep, loverboy.”

you bounce on your heels impatiently when the plane finally lands, waiting for the throngs of people on the flight to leave through the bridge, but it’s taking ages, speed walking once you’re out. you wanted to be the first at the luggage conveyor belt, you needed to be the first passenger of your flight to be out of the arrival doors.

without the rush of the people and the striking colours of your boyfriend’s friends’ hair colours, it wasn’t too difficult to run up to them for a big hug.

“(y/n)~!” gojo drags out your name, waving you over excitedly and bringing the both of you into a group hug. nanami is adamant on being the ever broody racer, but you catch the ghost of a smile when he wraps a careful arm around your shoulders.

“how was the flight, (y/n)?” the blonde’s firm but concerned voice cuts through the chaos of the white-haired man.

“don’t ask lame questions like thaaaat, nanami! you’ll just bore me—” and a resounding smack! is then heard, and gojo’s clutching the back of his head in pain, the other taking the opportunity to lead you away from gojo’s antics and offering to help with your luggages. without words, nanami already feels your nervousness, patting your back in solidarity.

“hey— hey! oi!”

gojo slams the door to his car. “okay, we’ve painstakingly tried to hold suguru back whenever he was about to book flights—” gojo mentions in the car on the ride there, taking way too quick turns for your liking with your luggage going to town in the trunk. its thumps against the roof and sides always seem to interrupt the conversation with the white-haired man, but he seemed too much in a hurry to care. “think it was almost eight separate times!”

“thank you— ah!” you almost lurch forward at the amber light, but gojo decided at the last minute that he was just going to run it — braking then speeding it up all over again.

“you know, for a racer, you’re a terrible civilian driver . .” you groan once you reach the mouth of the familiar car park that you frequented in your six months in japan, but now that gojo’s easily manoeuvres the car to a slow, the adrenaline of the fast drive changes into something of dread, of a dizzying feeling.

what if suguru didn’t want to see you anymore? what if he already booked himself a flight and was nowhere to be found? what if he’s cheat—

your hands are clammy, not even present to how gojo calls out from you from the driver’s seat. cautiously, he’s putting a hand on your shoulder (because god forbid gojo touched anything of suguru’s, both Mazda and girlfriend), and shaking you out of your daze.

you catch glimpses of his sentences: “all  . . talks about . . trust . . no girl has . .” but you stop his rambling with frantic slaps to his shoulder. you know you shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions but it’s hard not to when the scene is clear as day. suguru is never one to cheat — from the six months you’ve known him, from the many calls and check-ins the two of you do over the line.

defying time zones, fighting fatigue . . for this?

but you know better to list your lover as the instigator, especially from how this other girl was just hovering all over his Mazda, sticking her ass out and trailing her hand all over his finishing. that was one thing — but geto isn’t making any move to shove her off, only looking at her through hooded lids that could definitely drive anyone off. she wasn’t affected, though.

you’re not listening to gojo even when you step out of the car, already used to the curious eyes that rake over you and your figure — curiosity turns into recognition and then shock when they see how your boyfriend acts, but before you can actually make your way toward them, another man sidles up to you.

oh my god, it’s daisuke. you sigh loudly, knowing how gojo had dealt with him before and how much of an asshole he is, but all he does is look you up and down, not giving one fuck to how the subject of his embarrassment was sitting right in the driver’s seat.

“hey, babygirl.” you want to vomit from that one greeting alone, but you try not to pay him much mind. “what’s a pretty lady like you doin’ out here?”

“don’t your sorry ass have a girlfriend?” daisuke doesn’t even begin to digest the insult, and you think that he’s a masochist with how much he sets himself up for getting insulted, but then the girl’s eyes meet yours — she’s in his pictures, she’s in his wallet, you’ve seen her when this loser beside you blatantly brags about his girl. you’d feel sorry for her but it seems she’s as stupid as him.

they’re exactly that — realising you just walked yourself into one big jealousy scheme planned by the biggest jokers of the underground racing scene, your suspicions are confirmed when his eyes are also locked on his girlfriend with your boyfriend of all people, making sure she sees that he’s all up in your space. she’s doing the same, but when she actually tries to touch him is when geto finally does something, and the jealous burn in your heart quells a bit.

geto’s too smart to be mingling around with her, you hope, when you hear him mutter something to her and you smile to yourself when she cowers under his stare and words.

“you touch my fuckin’ car one more time and i’m sure to drive both you and your loser boyfriend, out of here forever. you can take your clown asses to another parking lot and race there and then i won’t have to see your faces any more,” his hold around his wrist isn’t harsh, but it is firm, and he prevents her from leaving until she gets his message, “plus i have a girl i’m obsessed with. take your lame jealous charade somewhere else and maybe go to couples’ therapy. you two clearly need it.”

and when she looks at you again — you think it’s how your identity settles in her mind — she yelps and finally runs away at the daggers you give, not even sparing a glance to daisuke who’s carefully scooching closer to you. but just as he tries to wrap his arm around your waist, your eyes catch suguru’s.

his eyes soften for just a moment; it was just like the café. his palms turn sweaty and he feels like he could collapse — but now you’re looking just a little different. he wasn’t sure if it was because of your hair or the tiredness from exams, but you’re still as stunning as the day he led you out of the parking lot.

geto cannot resist giving you a big grin, but it quickly fades when his gaze falls on daisuke beside you and a scowl appears. and while your body’s already distancing yourself from the man’s crusty ass lips, you feel a throb go right down to your core when the same annoyed glower forms across his features: eyebrows pulled taut, long strides, muscles bulging in the wifebeater he’s got on.

six months away from your man has clearly done things to you.

with one smooth swoop, geto has you pulled flush against him, not even looking as he uses his free hand to grab at daisuke’s neckline before he leans in to kiss you. it’s admittedly a little embarrassing, cause your body reacts so readily to him, tits pressed against his chest while your fingers tangle themselves in his long hair. he tastes like cigarettes and cherries like always and you moan softly into his mouth when his hands wander right down to your ass to give it a squeeze.

“satoru’s not very good at hiding secrets, unfortunately,” geto spills and you pout, surprise ruined by the loud mouth of his friend, but before he gives you his undivided attention, he tugs daisuke closer, roughly. “but that don’t mean i ain’t happy to see ya, baby.”

geto laughs at your flustered state, until his expression darkens again — “you have a lot of nerve touching my girl.”

“I—i didn’t! she was basically begging for me to touch her.”

“don’t you—”

“p-plus! my girl was all up over you too, so i thought i’d give her a little lovin’—”

geto almost smashes his jaw in. either way, he lands a clean punch to his face that has daisuke writhing on the floor, clutching his mouth in pain but that doesn’t deter daisuke one bit who sits up . . and then is immediately beaten down again with a boot to his chest. your boyfriend leans down and looks him straight in the eye.

“i’m cancelling my race just so i can make my girl scream my name loud enough for you, because you could never fuck her or anyone that good with your shit dick game,” geto scoffs, “and forget girls, you can’t even win enough races to rise up the ranks. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough, don’t you think?”

suguru doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, only ushering you toward his Mazda parked in the familiar corner, easily shooting a text to gojo to cancel the race as he mentioned just so he could . .

with windows down, you relish again in the tokyo night air, the hand that you miss so much on your thigh, the alluring voice he’s speaking to you in, the beauty of geto suguru. everything looked the same since you left, from the photos he’s put up on the dashboard, the berry keychain hanging from the rear view mirror, the outer orange coating of his car.

“i—”

“i’m sorry, my love,” suguru leaps forward to apologise, stopping the car abruptly. you’ve already reached your destination but, it seems he wants to say something first.

“why are you apologising?”

he frowns, bringing his hand to cradle your cheek. easily, you’re leaning into the touch, closing your eyes. “for ruining the surprise, for that stupid fight with daisuke, for letting my emotions take over.”

you mirror him, features also deepening in somberness. “you didn’t do anything — if anything, you were a victim of his girlfriend too. but . . seeing her be all over you, made me think the worst after not seeing you for six months.”

geto’s eyes soften yet again (he simply can’t help it around you), using both hands to hold you, now, and you float into his arms like a feather, like he’s in command. you let him guide you into the driver’s seat, faces so close and just hoping to touch after so many months apart.

“i . . i love you,” he swallows, brushing the hair from your face. you find that he’s shaking and breathing so heavily you’d think he was hyperventilating, but he gathers courage on a deep breath and continues, “i have since you left. right after, i went home to cry.”

“oh . .” your lip juts out, eyebrows downturned and eyes filling just a little, “oh, sugu . .”

“i just have always wanted to say it, i guess,” he chuckles, sniffling to hide his true emotions, “i just didn’t know whether i should say it over the phone where it would sound cheap; b-but, you don’t have to say it back, of course—”

you smile through tears, pressing a peck to his forehead in gratitude, “it wouldn’t sound like it to me, but i appreciate you waiting until i returned,” geto relishes in your lips upon his skin again, and he doesn’t think he could survive another day, another minute, another second without you, “i have, too, but i’m not sure when. it definitely includes the time you set alarms to wake me up for exams, though.”

he laughs freely at the memory now, of alarms interrupting his dinners and his parents asking “another call?”, but they let him do whatever, happy to hear their boy joking and laughing over the call with his mystery partner. you giggle, using your thumbs to wipe away the tears that did fall, letting the interior fluorescent light of the Mazda illuminate the features you love so much, all belonging to the man you pined over from many miles away.

“i love you too, suguru — stumbling into that random car park was the best thing i’ve ever done.”

“well, it might’ve not turned out as well if some other group had gotten to you first,” his thumb plays with your bottom lip and brings you to him, “’m just glad i got to ya in time . .”

“yeah? what if you didn’t at all?”

“then i would’ve made sure i’d find you in any way that i can, even if i had to beat up a thousand daisukes.”

that makes you giggle at little, a sliver of eye contact shared with your lover before he engulfs you in a rough kiss and your moan reaches the heavens, body so sensitive from being away from his touch that you jolt when he wraps an arm around your waist. 

“relax, baby,” geto chuckles, speaking against your lips, “take it slow.”

“but i don’t wanna . .” you whine softly, clinging to him in surprise when he pulls a lever next to his seat and the backrest falls all the way down.

“ah!” you grin, “new mod?”

suguru barks out in laughter, “ya caught me. i got it modified yesterday.”

“so you could do dirty things like this?”

he rolls his eyes with a blinding smile, just so, so happy he’s got you back in his arms again, “exactly that.”

the other willingly shows you just what the modification can take, both hands spread out on your ass and pulling you onto his crotch. your core already feels the half-hard bulge under him, using your hips to grind down even more along him. everything feels like too much, after so long away from him that you already feel your high approaching from simply grinding your clit against him and he teases.

“you g’nna cum, already?” he grins slyly, suddenly moving his hips to meet yours that has a broken mewl leaving your throat.

“b—been too long away from you . .” you admit a little sheepishly, using his shirt as an anchor while you continue to grind your cunt into his front, only your panties and his trousers separating the contact of skin. but with how your body jerks in pleasure, you’d think there was nothing between the both of you. “i need you, quick.”

geto says nothing but help you with small pants, the backlighting from the headlines accentuating your figure so nicely that he grunts out your name in between swears, soon stuttering your syllables once he feels you still on his lap with arched back and throbbing cunt. he can feel you, feel you squeezing around him even when he wasn’t in you.

“guess your fingers were pretty crap, h-huh?” massaging your sides, you hum in disapproval at his cheeky smirk, hoping to change that when he lets you do whatever: you pull him up by his shirt and open the door to his car, pushing at him to get out. you don’t day anything and he already knows what you want when you spread your legs, biting his lip at the wet patch on the pretty set you decided to don.

and even with witnessing this sight over and over, you’re never used to the way geto worships you, reveres you, when he kneels down on straight gravel. he doesn’t care if his pants are littered with small specks of dust and dirt, whether he knees start to hurt, but he only has his eyes set on your alluring cunt, finger delicate when he pulls your panties to the side but just brutal when his mouth meets your clit.

“su— s-shit—!” is all you can manage, hearing the other breathe through his nose once his mouth latches on your pussy. it’s something that he hasn’t tasted since long ago, and he’d be damned to let you go again, so he takes the opportunity to savour your arousal, switching between flicking and sucking on your clit like a starved man.

“she tastes so fuckin’ good hmmff—” his eyes meet yours and he feels you squeeze around nothing, making a show of letting you watch how his tongue circles your bud, down to your hole and up again, slurping up your juices sloppily. “i hope this pussy’s missed me as much as i missed her, yeah?”

“y-yeah . .” you moan out softly, legs moving apart more to get more of him, pelvis humping against his face so much that he has to hold it down with a hand. your pre is dripping all over his leather seats and onto the floor, but he makes sure not to spill any more from the way he scoops it up and prods at your entrance. 

“let your pussy do the talkin’, baby,” he mumbles drunkenly, pushing in a finger past your walls and the stretch is already so much better than your own. your jaw hangs open in ecstasy, body already bucking and craving for more when he pushes his thicker finger all the way in and it’s no problem for geto to slip the other in, “she’s sucking me in so well, can she do this to my cock too? hm?”

wordlessly, you’re nodding, catching a whisper of good girl before he’s back on your sopping pussy, sucking up and swallowing all of your arousal that it’s downright filthy, the noises echoing throughout the space. geto doesn’t waste any time pumping his digits, moving them in tandem with his tongue.

“s—suguru . .” you whine, struggling to keep your eyes open from the sheer pleasure, and you’re met with the vision that you can never get enough of — your racer boyfriend’s tongue out, hooded lids and soaked chin — and he grants you a little more of euphoria, groaning loudly into your pussy. with each minute, he’s only getting harder, unbelievably so, so your fantasy cut short when he removes his fingers and mouth with a pop! and laughs at your needy whine.

“you’ve been away too long, come,” geto stands to give you a kiss first, letting you taste yourself, “i need to be in you, darlin’.” 

and so when he first slips in, it feels like heaven on earth, his leaking tip nudging past your folds and right into your warm cunt that he whines so loudly, long hair falling all about his face and body. you’re not different, nails digging in his skin at the stretch that you’ve missed, cock so much longer and thicker than your fingers.

“t-this is better than any fleshlight, fuuckk . .” he mutters to himself, one hand holding your ankle up and the other holding your bent knee. he’s hoping the modification he made to his car wouldn’t give up on him, because he knows he won’t be able to hold back once you’ve adjusted. but when you start moving earlier than he expects, he doesn’t give you the chance, slamming right up to the hilt until you’re shivering and clenching around him.

“g—god, r-right there, sugu—” you preen, nothing but incoherent and repeated sentences mumbled by you over and over, “feels s’full . .”

“y-yeah? tha’ it?” you don’t need the shitty light of the abandoned parking lot to make you look beautiful, you’re doing it all on your own when your body arches towards him and your legs shiver in his hold, catching glimpses of just how wet you were — juices smeared along your inner thighs, a clear sheen of it along his length, all thanks to the lighting. “so sloppy, huh . . listen to ’er.”

geto emphasises his thrust, in, out, and in, out, just for you to hear your dripping pussy dragging along his shaft, one of the things of yours that makes him go insane. 

“all because of you,” you babble mindlessly, fingers expressing your need for him and he listens like he always does, body hovering over yours just to kiss you and because of that he’s thrusting all the more deeper into you as you break the kiss with a loud moan. geto laughs against your lips, hips making quick work to make sure he stays in his new angle, and he’s rewarded with your lewd pleas for him.

he’s ramming into you so perfectly, mushroom tip just barely brushing against your cervix each time that it has your mouth permanently open in pure pleasure.

“well . . you’re the only doll to get me hard and needy like this . .” he chuckles again, kissing down your neck to make sure you get blue and black into your skin, “and i fuckin’ love her for it.”

with a shaky hand you pull on his ruined ponytail, “s-say it again.”

“i love you,” suguru almost whispers, afraid of breaking the silence.

“again . .”

“i love you, sweetheart,” that makes you bend into his hold, undoubtedly.

“again, suguru—”

his hips are relentless, still moving even through his pussydrunk confessions, “i love you— i-i love you, i love you. so, goddamn, much— s-shiiit . .”

“m-me too, su . . i love you— i—” your arms trap him, circling around his neck and making sure he stays close to you and he pushes on your knees more, fat cock fucking into you in a more open mating press, knowing you’re close by how your toes curl and your stomach contracts, by how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he’s got you mapped out, memorised, all from his devotion to you.

“i know, baby, you’re close, y—yeah?”

he feels you nod, thighs starting to burn from the position but while your pussy keeps sucking him in, he’s sure to continue to slam into you, making sure all four walls of the parking lot hear the obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your ass.

“c’mon, cum with me, princess,” he murmurs, lightheaded with the tightness and warmth of your pussy. it’s a wonder he hasn’t cummed already, sneaking one hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit. your moans are rendered inaudible, only managing pathetic squeaks before you’re tipped over the edge and you’re whimpering so loudly into his car, cum dripping down and out your cunt and right to your ass.

your pussy flutters with geto’s continued thrusts, prompting him to reach his release right after with a deep groan, hips stuttering in your sensitive pussy until he’s spilling his load, white and hot. it’s just so, so goddamn much, stuffing your hole full of his cum that it has no choice to spill and dribble out when he removes his cock, the sight just so mesmerising to him.

“p—please,” your energy is far from used up, turning your body over just so you can present your ass to him. face squished into the driver’s seat, you use both hands to spread your cum-filled pussy, just asking for more and geto only smiles with a certain lilt in his voice. “need more, suguru . .”

“that’s my lovergirl.”

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 6

Hello! We are back with this lovely story.

Things are starting settle for Steve as he visits his kids and gets news from his cousin, Monty. He also learns he has allies in unexpected places.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

It was still early enough in the day that Monty wouldn’t be at work so he figured he’d grab a bite to eat and then do some shopping. He might even stop by the Hendersons if he had time. He wanted to see the little pipsqueak again.

As much as Steve was loving the super rich and decadent food of the hotel all he wanted in that moment was a good chili burger from Benny’s.

When he got there the diner was mostly empty, the lunch rush having just ended, so he slid into his favorite booth and waited for the waitress to notice him. And of course because Alice was as sharp intelligence wise as she was sharp tongued, she was over at his table with a cup and pot of coffee.

“Steve Harrington,” she said with a wicked gleam her eye. “I thought you’d done and gone a runner.”

Steve raised his hand and tilted it back and forth. “Ehh...close enough I guess.”

Alice barked out a laugh, shaking her head as she handed him the menu. And he handed it right back.

“I would like a strawberry milk shake, Benny’s Big Chili Burger, and side order of cheese fries.” He grinned at her as she looked at him in shock. “Please?”

She jotted it all down, shaking her head again and then shoved the pad back in her apron. “That will be coming right up.” She turned on her heel and walked right back to the kitchen.

Steve added sugar and creamer to his coffee and took a sip. It wasn’t as good as the hotels, but it was warm and friendly and tasted a little like home.

Alice refilled his coffee twice before his food came out with a stack of napkins. As she placed his food in front of him, she whispered, “Are you safe?”

Steve looked up at her in awe. She looked over her shoulder at Benny who was watching them nervously. Suddenly his insides warmed fast than an entire pot of coffee ever could.

He nodded and gave Benny a thumbs up and hoped from an outsider’s point of view, he was giving the chef indication that he was happy with the food. The chef relaxed and so did Alice.

Steve happily, sloppily ate his meal in peace. He got a couple of side-eyes from some of the other patrons, but he steadfastly ignored them in favor of the delicious food. After he was done he took out a twenty and dropped it down on the table.

Alice deserved something extra for being so nice. He waved goodbye and got back into his car. He checked his watch and saw that he had plenty of time before The Hideout opened so he drove over to the Hendersons.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Claudia’s car out front. Because even if Dustin wasn’t home, she would be and be able to pass along the message he had visited. He got out of the car but before he even raised his hand to knock the door swung open and he suddenly had an armful of rowdy teenager.

“Steve!” Dustin cried, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend.

Steve let out a sigh and knot he didn’t know he was holding in his chest loosened and then vanished. Then there was a flurry of other bodies as he was hit with three more hugs. Then Max showed up at the door and pushed her way through the bodies of the four boys to cling to Steve’s waist.

Claudia came to the door and raised an eyebrow at him. “I think they’re happy to see you.”

He huffed out a laugh. He held them all as close as possible. Tears began to run down his face as he squeezed them for as long and as tightly as he could. Finally his arms began to hurt.

“I missed you guys so much,” he whispered into Dustin’s curly hair.

Claudia gently pried each of them off Steve and pushed them into the house with murmured assurances that Steve wasn’t going anywhere and that he would probably like to come inside now.

Finally it was just Max and Dustin, then just Max. When Claudia tried to dislodge her, she buried her head deeper into Steve’s chest.

“Don’t leave me like that ever again,” she whispered fiercely. “Or I will find you and kick your ass. Do you hear me?”

“I promise,” he said solemnly and meant it. Things weren’t all peaches and cream for the other kids, but at least they all had someone willing to care at least a little. Susan Hargrove tried, but her life was a series of bad decisions followed by worse consequences, mainly for Max.

Max finally let go of his waist, but she grabbed his hand, and led him into the house. Steve smiled after hearing from his friends that they wouldn’t take him, after Tommy had done a runner, his parents threw him away like an old soiled rag he had forgotten that he had people who loved him.

Alice and Benny at the diner, his kids.

Once he entered the living room, he was bombarded with questions. He couldn’t even hear what they were saying, it was so loud.

He put his fingers to his lips and whistled long and loud. “Hey, dumbasses! One at a time. Jeez, I’d ask who raised ya, but I know that and they didn’t raise you to behave this way.”

There was some grumbling but they all quieted down and Steve answered their questions the best he could without say who it was who had rescued him.

“You’re trying to tell us,” Mike scoffed, “that some rich money bags swooped in like a white knight and swept you off your feet?”

Yeah, okay, Steve conceded to himself, that did sound hard to believe. He pulled out the wallet. He had taken most of the money had it put in the hotel safe until he got back and talked to the front desk about his room safe, but there was still a lot in there. Minus the twenty to Alice, of course.

He opened it up and pulled out his new shiny, black card and tossed it on the coffee table. Mike picked it up and looked at it. He turned it around to see Steve’s name on the back but literally nothing else was on it.

He threw back on the table and sat back. “So you’ve a black card, so what.”

Steve burst out laughing. Laughing until he was doubled over with it. He threw the rest of the wallet on the table when he finally could breathe again. But Mike refused to pick it up, he just glared at him.

So Lucas picked it up and his eyebrows shot up. “Holy shit, Steve. Did you sell your kidney?”

Mike looked over and saw the wallet was brimming with cash. His head shot up at Steve in shock. “What does a black card mean?”

Steve smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, smug as anything. “Black means no limit.”

“No limit?” Dustin asked. “How can a card have no limit? Even Ma’s card has a limit.”

“It means I can buy an island nation on it and they wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t. It’s not my money, but I could.”

Max let go of his hand and took the wallet from Lucas. He looked up at her as she counted the money. “There’s enough in here to pay the rent on my mom’s trailer for six months.”

Steve nodded. “And that’s not even all of it. I left some back at where I’m staying.”

“Which is where?” Will asked. “Dustin won’t tell us.” He looked over at Dustin who stuck his tongue at him.

“I can’t tell you that,” Steve said shaking his head. “I want to, and I will. Just not yet. I need make sure my parents are out of town and don’t have people looking for me before I trust people with that knowledge.”

“So why tell Dustin then?” Mike huffed.

And there it was. It wasn’t that Mike didn’t believe him, it was that he was upset that Dustin was given privileged information.

“I told Mrs. Henderson and Dustin was there,” he defended. “Look. When I’m sure my dad won’t ruin your parents’ lives for you guys helping me, then you’ll know, same as him.” He rolled his eyes. “Plus it was more I gave Dustin a phone number and didn’t realize that they fucking announced who they were regardless of the number called.”

Will snapped his fingers. “A hotel. You’re staying in a hotel!”

Steve threw his head back and covered his face with his hands and groaned his frustration. He had forgotten he was dealing with literal geniuses.

“Oh!” Mike said. “I get it now. You thought they would only say the name of the hotel when you called the front desk but not your room. But you were wrong and that’s how Dustin found out.”

Steve pursed his lips and he nodded, trying not to scream.

“So it wasn’t that you think he’s special,” Max said, “you’re just stupid.”

“Maxine Catherine Maxwell!” Claudia shrieked from the doorway. “We do not call people stupid in this house!”

Max’s jaw dropped at being full named. Steve was even impressed. He didn’t even know that Max had a middle to use.

“Sorry, Steve,” she muttered putting the wallet back on the table and crossing her arms.

Claudia nodded to the wallet and the card. “You best put those away, love. We don’t want you to lose anything now that you’re safe.”

He did as he was told. He then stayed around and answered their questions the best he could. Then when it was time for them to go home for dinner, he offered to take any of them home, but they all declined. Even Max, which surprised him, but he figured she was still stung by being full named by Dustin’s mom.

So he gave her a big hug before she left so she knew he wasn’t mad at her. She hugged him back fiercely and then pushed him away with a weak, “Loser.”

Steve huffed a small laugh and let her go.

He grabbed a sandwich off Claudia and then dashed off. He made a stop at Melvand’s and grabbed his hair products. He used the card for that so that Eddie could get a laugh at that purchase.

Then he pulled up to The Hideout just as it was opening and sure enough, Monty was at the door.

Steve got out of his Bimmer and walked up to the door. It was a Tuesday so there wasn’t anyone lined up.

Monty breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s good to see you, kid, but I can’t let you in.”

Steve held up his hands. “And I’m not asking you to. I’m just here to make sure you didn’t get into trouble and maybe some news if you have it.”

Monty relaxed and threw his arm around Steve’s shoulders, walking off to the side so they could share a smoke and Monty could still keep an eye on the door.

They were about halfway through their cigarettes when Monty finally spoke up.

“You didn’t get me in trouble,” he said, blowing out smoke. “I just don’t want my boss to put two and two together and come up with you being the Eddie Munson pet. You’re dad has been breathing down the necks of the local police. Not to find you, oh no. To run you out of town with a fucking lynch mob.”

Steve winced, flicking the ash off his cigarette with his thumb nail. “I’m not surprised. That’s why I’m laying low. Plus the place has good security, they will deny I’ve ever existed and since they don’t have anything on me, they can’t come back with a warrant.”

“What about your ID?” Monty asked after chewing on his lip for a moment or two.

“It’s on my list of things to get rid of,” Steve assured him. “I just want to do it safely. Cutting it up and throwing it away will only make things annoying for the cops to put back together.”

Monty nodded. “As long as you’re being smart about this, that takes a huge weight off my shoulders.”

“Do you think anyone there that night would remember me?” Steve asked, nervously.

“Don’t know,” Monty said with a shrug. “You did stand out pretty good that night. But whether they recognized you as Clint Harrington’s son? I doubt it and my boss hates cops so ten to one if they come sniffing around that night’s security tapes are gonna do a runner.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to feel relieved. “That’s good to know.”

“How’s Aunt Sophie doing?” Steve asked, grinding his finished cigarette under his shoe. “I heard she had a cancer scare last month?”

Monty scoffed. “Is that what Auntie Maureen said?” He rolled his eyes. “Scare? That implies that she was making it up. Bitch. Stage four. They think they’ve caught in enough time, but only time will tell.”

Steve winced again. “Mom has always been jealous of Aunt Sophie. I’m sorry, man. I hope they get it taken care off.”

“Thanks.”

The conversation turned to various cousins and other relatives. Then by some miracle someone came up to the door and Monty had to go.

Steve watched him trot back to the door and apologize to the patron and he shook his head. He drove back to the hotel and worried about his car. He didn’t know if his dad would think to look here, but he needed a reliable way to get around.

He wanted to skip dinner because he was so tired but he knew he needed to eat. So he ordered room service and called Eddie. It went to voicemail like the thought it would, but he told him all about his day. Then he ate and got ready for bed. He slowly drifted off to gentle silence of the suite around him.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[demelzathemer]

My Heart Is a Haunted House

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘗𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 + 𝘗𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘛

@dbdpromptober Day 9 (words: 866)

First Previous Next

Charles glanced at the sky and he could tell it was a bit lighter colour than it had been before. The sound of the bells faded, announcing the time.

Wait. If it was morning…

“Am I going to wake up soon?” Charles asked. He wasn’t really keen on that, but all nice dreams ended at some point, didn’t they?

“Charles, this is the Underworld, not the Dreamworld.” Edwin smiled, amused by his own joke.

Charles needed a few seconds to process that. He pinched himself on the arm just to be sure, then looked around like he had never seen this place before.

“You’re telling me I’m not dreaming? Where is this, then?” He stopped in his tracks and took a long, hard look at Edwin. “That means you’re really…”

“Yes, Charles,” Edwin sighed, his lips tightening into a sour smile. “Unfortunately, I really am dead.”

“...my husband,” Charles whispered.

The word shocked both of them into stillness. Edwin’s eyes were wide, and Charles was sure he would’ve blushed had there still been blood in his veins. Edwin looked away first, and it was downright adorable.

Charles was starting to panic.

“Right. One question, then. What am I doing here? I’m not dead, am I?” He shifted his weight from one foot to another, trying not to give in to all the worst thoughts just yet.

Edwin looked taken aback.

“No,” he breathed. “You’re not. It’s my fault, I admit it. Well, I don’t really have a physical form suitable for the Land of the Living, so I… I guess I took you here without thinking it through. I’m sorry.”

How else can we be together? Hung in the air between them, unsaid.

“Nah, it’s been fun. I’m having a bang on good time here, eh?” Charles hurried to add. “It’s just, I’ve still got…”

A life to live, his brain unhelpfully supplied.

“To take care of my Maa,” he finished. “I can’t just leave her without explaining anything.”

Edwin nodded, his eyes downturned. Charles took in his pale, lifeless appearance and realized that Edwin most likely didn’t get any opportunity to say goodbye to his parents, either. Everyone here had been yanked from their lives just as suddenly as Charles was, except the crash down into the Underworld was a one-way ticket.

But Charles was still alive, that had to count for something? He checked his hands in case they’d drained of blood but he was still himself, breathing and beating heart and all.

Edwin pressed his fists together, his shoulders tense. Charles wanted to say something to make it better, but his brain failed to come up with anything. He had to get out of here. If Dad woke up and found out Charles had sneaked out during the night, there would be Hell waiting for him.

He’d been so happy in this plane, thinking it was just a worry-free escape from his usual life, but now that it was added to his plate of Things to Deal With, Charles felt fully unequipped to manage. He didn’t even know where to start.

Then a thought occurred to him and his mouth ran with it.

“I should tell my Maa about us, yeah? Actually, you should meet her,” he said quickly, trying to smooth things over. “We should go to the surface so I can introduce you to my Maa and tell her that we’re married and that I’m alright, and then we can come back here if it really is impossible for you to stay there. How’s that sound?”

Edwin raised his eyes, and the wet shine in them hit Charles straight through his heart, gnawing at his conscience.

“You don’t have to do that for my sake,” Edwin said, his voice perfectly level.

Charles stepped in and covered his clenched fists with his hands. Gently he coaxed them to relax, so he could slot their fingers together, squeezing him. Monty was sitting silently next to Edwin’s collar, preening his hair.

“No, but I want to, yeah? I don’t want to leave you behind,” Charles said before he could bite his tongue.

His guilty heart was racing but how his mouth was still faster, running away with the lies and twisting the truth? He didn’t want to hurt Edwin, but that was inevitable if he kept promising him things, wasn’t it?

How was it possible to be alive and be married to a dead person? Charles was terrified to find out. Why did he promise Edwin that things would work out when he couldn’t believe it himself?

If only he could have some time to figure it out. First, he needed to get home.

He squeezed Edwin’s hands tighter. It wasn’t a lie that he didn’t want to leave him. Even if he was dead, Edwin was the kindest person Charles has ever met. He didn’t deserve that awful fate that had befallen him. Charles didn’t want to leave him now that he’d found him.

Edwin swallowed thickly, then seemed to will the tears away by straightening his posture, his jaw tense.

“Very well. I may have a spell that could be of use to us. But first, we need to visit Tragic Mick’s.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Opening Ceremony

@wolfstarmicrofic August 1, word count 732

Because I am an absolute nutter, it looks like I'm swapping the two series I did last month over so now we have part two of the Apple Core series that was a Jegulus story but now it's following on as a Wolfstar. I'll link the pervious Jegulus series if any one wants to read that first. Hope you enjoy.

Previous Jegulus part First Jegulus part

“Come on Remus, get the banner higher, like James’s side. Yes, that’s better. Perfect.” Sirius directed from the floor while James and Remus balanced precariously on chairs outside the café. Sirius and Remus had just bought it for a relatively good price. He’d sunk everything he had into it, well what he had left after getting them the nice flat. It was just typical that this place went on the market with a perfectly adequate flat above it the day after they exchanged contracts for their flat. Sirius had made a fuss about it at the time, but he believed everything happened for a reason. He had this niggling feeling that he and Remus were not meant to live in the flat above the café, so he put it out of his mind and got to work.

The café had been a disaster. They’d had to rip everything out to the studs and start again, but that meant they could use the space however they wanted. They did as much as they could themselves to keep costs down, which basically meant telling James what they wanted and pointing him in the right direction. 

But today was opening day and Sirius was nervous. What if nobody came? What if this was a colossal waste of money, and he was just a waster like his parents had told him over and over as he was growing up? His thoughts turned to his brother for a second. He hadn’t seen him in 5 years and had no idea what he was doing. As far as he knew, Regulus still lived in that house with them. He quickly put an end to that train of thought. He highly doubted he’d see or hear from Regulus any time soon. 

He stood back to appraise their handiwork. He grinned a face-spitting smile. The banner proclaiming Open for Business proudly hung under the shimmering blue-tinged white letterings of their shop’s name, Howlin’ at the Moon. He just needed to add the finishing touches, and they’d be ready for the grand opening ceremony. He ran back inside and began to drag out the piece of rolled-up red carpet, the velvet ropes and the big red ribbon. When he was done, he jumped around with glee and checked his watch for the time. They still had two hours.   

Effie and Monty turned up to help make all the samples. He and Remus had kept it simple. Shots of their signature coffee blend and miniature cheese toasties, which were normal cheese toasties artfully cut up by Monty himself. 

“Sirius look,” Remus physically spun him around to face the glass front of the shop. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Already there was a huge crowd waiting patiently for the doors to open. 

“Mum!” He called into the back, “We’re going to need more cheese toasties, a lot more,” Effie came round to see what was going on and gave him a big squeeze. 

“You’re going to be amazing darling,” She whispered into his ear as she planted a big wet kiss only a mother could give on his cheek. “And don’t think you can sneak away Mr, you’re just as much a part of this family as the others are,” Effie wrapped her arms around Remus, who’d been trying to avoid her kisses, and held him there while she covered his face with red lipstick. 

“How many times do we have to tell you, Moony,” James snickered from the other side of the counter. “You can’t run away from her, it’s best just to accept her love and be done with it,” Remus grumbled at him and made rude gestures when Effie’s back was turned as he tried to wipe the red stains off his face. The clock chimed and it was time to go.

Sirius swallowed nervously as he took in the crowd. He was standing with an oversized pair of scissors in front of the door, preparing to make a speech. He took a deep steadying breath and felt his body tremble. Remus came and stood beside him, and together they introduced themselves and welcomed everyone to their café. Holding the scissors between them, they cut the ribbon and watched it fall to the floor as the local paper took a photo of the event. They opened the door and the crowd surged forward. Howlin’ at the Moon was officially open.

Next part

[bitbybitwrites]

It's been FOREVER since I've done one of these - I really am grateful to everyone who's been tagging me, even though I've been letting it slide doing this on time ( which is kind of well, my thing, isn't it 😂)

Its been a while - just time, inspiration and utter exhaustion have gotten in the way from really writing. I was finally able to finish one Klaine fic recently (yay!) - so I'm slowly plugging away at everything else I've got on the back burner.

Under the cut will be bits from If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - my Klaine fic that is approaching a year😳 since I started writing it! (Where the heck did the time go? 25 chapters and 102, 599 words later and I'm still plugging away at it!) Also an excerpt of the next chapter of Puppy Love - my sweet RWRB kid!fic. Can't wait to write more of this adorable story also!

Thanks for being patient with me folks and for reading my stuff and just tagging me in these things . . .💖💖💖

*****

If I Can Make Your Heart My Home (Klaine fic - Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang 2023) cc @datshitrandom

Kurt shook his head.  “I know.  You’re right, Maggie."  He took a deep breath.  “I guess I feel like an idiot.  I messed up something great and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.” “Nonsense,” Maggie huffed as she slid the box in her hand into the shopping cart.  “Let me tell you no couple is perfect together all of the time.  It’s hard.  It's hard work to get two people who can be so different to share a life together. And let me tell you Ralph and I were like oil and water on many occasions.” “She’s not wrong, “ Clara confirmed.  “Ma and Pop had some really big blowouts when I was a kid. Remember the cracked bowling ball argument?” Maggie snorted.  “Oh god and one about the fishing weekend he took with your Uncle Al and never thought to let me and your Auntie Anna know. Thought they were dead in a ditch somewhere.” Clara laughed along with her mother.  “And the hat - the one about your new hat that he thought . .” “Looked like a bird had died on my head.” Maggie cackled.  “Oh I was so insulted.  I loved that hat!” Clara wiped away a few tears that had welled up in the corners of her eyes.  “At the time, it seemed like the end of the world. But it wasn't, not really.” “We never stayed mad for long.  And we worked it all out.” Maggie admitted, a wistful look in her eyes as she recalled all those moments. “I don’t know if he wants to talk to me anymore, Maggie.  That’s the problem.  I think I might have missed my chance.” Maggie took Kurt’s hand in hers and squeezed it firmly.  “You’re never going to know if you don’t try, Pillsbury.” “Talk to him, Kurt," Clara added.  “You owe yourself that, don’t you think?  Let him know how you really feel.  Talk about everything that's been bothering you . . and then, see what happens.” “I’m rooting for you, Pillsbury,”  Maggie told him softly.  “I’ve got a good feeling about you and Monty.” “We both do.” Clara chimed in.

****

Puppy Love (FirstPrince fic - RWRB NYE Gift Exchange 2023) - cc @omgbarbiegurl

Alex mostly operated on a “full-steam-ahead” way of living life.  He jumped off of cliffs - made big decisions and went with them, often with very little mulling over or introspection, basically throwing himself wholeheartedly into life.  Some of his family thought it was too reckless, too thoughtless, too rash. He preferred believing he was going with his gut instincts. Alex did that when decided to drop his law studies and go to vet school.  He did that when moved in with his last partner.  He went with his gut when he decided to adopt Raf,  and also when he made the decision to move to NYC to start a new chapter in his life and to start the animal rescue with June. So far, Alex couldn’t say he was disappointed with any of his impulsive life choices.  Well, he slightly wished that Jessica and him had ended on better terms. But he couldn’t dwell on it. She was the one who didn’t want to be a parent and that was a deal breaker for Alex. He refused to give Raf up and change his mind like she had after the fact. Alex loved his son with all that he had. It was him and Raf together till the end.  Alex was determined to make their new life in New York the best that it could be.  Having June and Nora alongside him for this adventure was comforting, and Alex couldn’t deny that they were keeping him grounded most of the time.  They knew his tendency to hyper focus and prodded him enough to keep him from doing it too much to the detriment of his family time with Raf.  But getting the rescue up off the ground was harder than they had expected. Even now after they had been established for quite some time, there were days whenthe siblings would wonder what they had gotten themselves into. Creating a business from scratch, juggling to manage everything and taking care of the animals as well was overwhelming and chaotic on most days. Spencer and Liam coming aboard last month was not only a pleasant surprise,  but a nice shot of relief for June and Alex. Certainly once the holidays were over it would be even easier. They could start to mange more realistic shifts at the rescue and begin to maintain some sort of normalcy with the extra help. Alex would be the first to admit that whenever prioritizing his life, even with his chaotic schedule, Raf came first, then his work and then . . well his personal needs and wants last.   After he and Jessica had parted, Alex pushed any thoughts of dating - or even random hook ups out of his mind. There really was no time for that.  And in no way was there anyone who even piqued his interest enough for him to come surfacing out of his self-imposed exile from the dating world. Or rather, that was true until an abandoned beagle and the gorgeous man who rescued him waltzed into his life.

****

OK . . so many thanks to the following lovely folks who have tagged me in the past few weeks for Six Sentence Sunday/ WIP Wednesday :

@porcelainmortal, @wordsofhoneydew, @duchessdepolignaca03, @forabeatofadrum, @littlemisskittentoes,

@agostobuwan, @nocoastposts, @sheepywritesfics @taste-thewaste @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion

@iboatedhere, @itsmaybitheway, @onthewaytosomewhere, @myheartalivewrites, @magicandarchery

@fallevs. @daisyishedwig. @welcometololaland and if I forgot anyone, I so apologize! ( I really tried keeping a list every time I missed one!)

So going to open tag anyone who might want to share what they're working on . . but I'll also tag for the hell of it, if they want to jump in:

@kirakiwiwrites, @madas-ahatters-world, @coffeegleek, @gleefulpoppet, @little-escapist

@spaceorphan18 @yadivagirl

[roboticsuccubus83]

Im so sorry my flare…

(This is from the POV of my TSAMS OC, Lauren. I’ll post her design later).

I felt numb.

And it’s not the good kind of numb either. It’s the shock you feel when someone tells you that the cancer is in stage 4 or you picked up the phone just to hear someone in your family died.

But wait. That’s just it. Someone DID die and that someone was Solar.

I was momentarily distracted from my dark thoughts by someone gently unplugging the charging cord from my neck port and tenderly brushing their fingers through my purple locks. They leaned down and I felt the slightest hint of a nuzzling motion.

“Oh…hi Frank…”

My voice came out as a whisper, hoarse from the past hours of crying. My cheeks were stained with dry tears and really…I just looked a mess.

I felt someone else stir in front of me and heard the gentle thrum of star power. The other animatronic nestled into my front and buried their face into my neck. I knew immediately who it was.

“Hello lunamoth…”

“….hi Starshine.”

Frank wrapped his arms around my waist and started nudging my shoulder, clearly wanting me to get out of bed. Lunar meanwhile was like a kitten on their owners lap, protesting every time they moved. Surrounded by warmth, I didn’t want to face the day. I didn’t want to do ANYTHING.

~~~~~

I got up in the end.

As soon as me and two of my partners walked out of my room, we were immediately embraced by some other loves of my life: Sun and Moon.

I also noticed Eclipse in the corner of my eye, sulking like usual -

Once Earth came into the Daycare, I added her in the group hug. We all stayed like that for some time(even Monty and Puppet joined).

After a moment, I wiped my face clean, straightened my skirt, then looked at Moon. “I want to see him.”

“Sunshine, are you-?” Sun was about to object, but I held out a hand.

“Take me to go see Ruin.”

~~~

“I don’t think I can be with you anymore.”

I sat in front of Ruin’s cell, my blue eyes piercing into his multicolored ones. To my surprise, he nodded.

“I expected that my dear Juliet. I do not think I could be with myself either if I had experienced what you and the rest of your new found family had. But I must ask…”

I raised an eyebrow.

“….if you are breaking up with me, then why shouldn’t you break up with Eclipse?”

I blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Lauren, you are drawn to him, I can see it in your eyes. But ever since he came back, you don’t know what to do with your heart. You cried when Lunar killed him, yet when he acts like his old self, you…well…act like you were when you were first built.”

I stood up to leave, not wanting to hear more. “I think that’s enough. You don’t get to make me feel guilty Ruin.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty dear. I’m just suggesting…maybe it’s time to give up on ever having a relationship with any Eclipse, in any timeline or universe. Even with a nice version of him, your heart will still be shattered in the end.”

~~~

Escorted by Moon, I walked back into the Daycare, my body numb and my eyes glossy with tears. God, was Ruin right? Was any relationship with Eclipse doomed from the beginning?

He squeezed my hand. “You okay?”

I wiped my eyes, sniffing a bit. “I think the word “okay” went out the door ten episodes ago.”

He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to my temple and leading me to a teleporter, which transported us to his and Sun’s new house.

Once we walked inside, I was greeted by the rest of my partners and their family. Sun kissed my cheek…Lunar hopped into my arms like usual…Frank nuzzled my shoulder…and Eclipse surprisingly squeezed my hand, not saying a word.

I opened my locket that was around my neck at all times, turning out the conversation around me about a potential movie night and pushing Ruin’s words to the back of my mind. Inside the heart were a bunch of pictures, carefully in their own little spot.

After smiling at Killcode, brushing my thumb alongside the Bloodmoon twins, and silently saying goodbye to Ruin, I came across Solar’s picture. He was covered in oil and dirt, but he had a small smile on his face.

I softly pressed the necklace to my lips and silently whispered against it.

“I’m so sorry my flare….”

A tear dropped down my cheek and I smiled sadly.

“I’ll see you again some day…”

<This isnt proofread. Any mistakes are by me.>

/I hope you enjoy my first TSAMS one shot. Drink lots of water, make sure to have a snack, get some rest, and I’ll see you all next time💛💙🧡🩵🖤❤️🩶🤍\

[clxckwork-sun-n-moon]

sleepy prompts; Cuddling under far too many blankets :>

aaaaaawwww a cute one~

Chilly Mornings || So Cries the Wolf AU (spoilers to ongoing story?)

-

Winter could get very dicey out in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. You did your best to ensure proper maintenance of the generator, covered over the windows to keep more of the heat in, and pulled out the thick downy duvet for your bed. However when your goddamn generator broke down then things started to get....complicated. Rapidly.

"What's the verdict?" Montague called over as you hung up your phone. Your response was to fling the phone in aggravation in the direction of the sofa, watching it bounce harmlessly against the pillows beside Eclipse. Both demons stared at the phone, then back at you.

"...That bad?"

"They're not able to send anyone out here for two days," you groaned into your hands. "We're not the only place whose power has gone out so they're backlogged to hell. Not their words. Sorry boys."

"No offense taken," Eclipse grumbled with a double hand-wave.

"But yeah. Bunker down, make one room the warmest in the place, cover up windows, no gas stove, and just...try to keep warm," you said with a low sigh. Sun's metal hand settled on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. It was all too easy to fold into the light comfort.

"Small steps, sunshine. Let's get the blankets together."

The living room made the most sense. It was technically the biggest room of the house which was less great, but it meant you could keep the kitchen above freezing and since neither Montague or Eclipse could enter your bedroom, then you figured it was better to keep them close rather than have them left in the cold. Could demons get frostbite? You asked this as you carried out another armful of blankets over to the sofa.

"I don't think we can," Eclipse replied.

"I haven't been inclined to try," Monty agreed. Good enough. Their presence was more than welcome in any case. You knew Montague was comfortable with cuddles - this was not your first rodeo at long, cold nights, although it was the first time that it was more than just two in the house.

It did present a...new and interesting scenario though. The sofa could certainly be unfolded into a bed, and that helped, but you were still looking at one human, one demon (tall), one demon (dog), and one animatronic shuffling up together in order to stay warm. Sun did decline sharing on the sofa, stating that his internal processing would be enough to keep himself warm, but you made sure he knew the offer was still left open.

Once every blanket in the cabin had been gathered together, you started the process of making a suitable nest. Eclipse's arms made it for light work, carrying and folding and draping with ease. At one point you were sat out in the middle of the sofa, plumping up one end of blankets to act as a barrier for pillows, when a heavy weight dropped down over your shoulders. Letting out a startled "WHA-", you wriggled underneath the weight, trying to scramble free if not for the weight to double down.

"Got you," Eclipse purred at your ear. He'd made a thickly layered net of multiple blankets, including your heavy down, and had flung it over you. It certainly made for an effective trap. Laughing quietly, you rolled over to look back up at him.

"It seems you have," you said, smiling warmly.

"You were shivering."

"Yeah, it's cold." You'd been seeing your breath for the past couple of hours as the sunlight left and frost drank up the household shadows. Eclipse frowned, poking your nose with a tender claw.

"You are most at risk of all of us. Need to stay warm, keep the cold off you," he said, his teasing tone sliding into the two-toned concern.

"It's fine. I'm under the blankets now, after all," you reassured him.

"Mmm, not good enough." Shifting around, he wriggled in from the side of the blankets, curling his arms around you and tugging you close to his feathered chest. If you thought the down duvet was soft, this was a whole other understanding of 'soft'. The feathers fluffed up against your cheek, the metallic chest far below an afterthought. And the warmth - it rolled off his body like a portable heater. Regardless of any displeased thoughts you may have had of Eclipse's teasing and grabbing, you wrapped your arms around him in return, nuzzling up close. With his warmth and the multitude of blankets above you, you were certain you'd be able to handle the lack of heating in the cabin for a day or two.

"Cute little pup," Eclipse purred, a hand gently running over your head. "You are warm now?"

"Absolutely," you mumbled, smiling up at his very pleased expression. He could have this smugness, just this once.

[hummingbird-of-light]

In Our Favor

Part 3

McCoy

McCoy was happy to set foot on solid ground in Scotland. The flight between Georgiares and Earth was long, but he had traveled it many times now. It was slowly getting easier, especially with Scotty beside him, but he still preferred to be on land. The thought briefly flashed through his mind how he would fare on a boat. A smile curled one side of his lips.

“We’ve got it Andre,” McCoy said to the security member reaching for his bag and trunk.

“Sir?”

“Don’t worry,” McCoy said, shrugging the strap of his bag further up his shoulder and grabbing one end of the trunk. Scotty grabbed the other end. “It isn’t far.”

“I remember sir,” Andre said, bowing his head in deference to McCoy.

McCoy and Scotty led the way and the three member security team followed behind.

McCoy hadn’t wanted any security to follow them back to Scotland, but David had insisted. Spock had been McCoy’s security on his previous trips to Scotland before his marriage, but Spock would be going to the Academy as well to begin his own career.

David wanted his son and son in law protected until they were surrounded at the Academy by the officers and cadets of Starfleet. McCoy had protested, but in the end gave in sullenly. Andre and his team would be with them in Scotland and would accompany the two young men to San Francisco.

Francine, of course, had offered for the team to stay at the house, but Andre had said no. One member would be at the house at a time and the others would stay nearby where they would not be a burden.

Two cars were waiting when the small group got to the front of the shuttle port.

McCoy and Scotty loaded their bags and the trunk in the first car and settled in the back. Andre took the driver’s seat and one of the others took the passenger seat. The third member followed in the second car.

It was strange to arrive and drive to the Scott’s house without Granddad or Francine. They had always either picked them up or dropped them off.

Scotty gave directions to Andre and soon enough they turned down a familiar street and stopped at a house that still looked too new compared to its neighbors.

Before McCoy or Scotty could get out the security team had beat them to the bags.

“You’ve got your mom to greet sir,” Andre smiled at Scotty while holding his bag.

“Fair enough,” Scotty chuckled back.

Scotty stopped on the doorstep, seeming for a moment confused whether he should knock or just open the door and go in. Before he could make up his mind the decision was made for him. The door opened quickly and Francine had her arms around her son.

“Oh Monty!” she cried happily as she held him tight. “It’s been so empty without ye lads! And Leonard!” Francine let go of Scotty and turned to McCoy.

“Hi Francine,” McCoy grinned as he was squeezed.

“Come in! Come in!” Francine moved back to let the boys in. McCoy gestured with his head for the security team to follow.

“You can set those there,” he pointed to a spot by the stairs. “We’ll take them up later. I mean it.” He gave Andre a serious look, but his eyes twinkled.

“Hello lads.” Granddad came from the living room and hugged both boys at the same time.

“You remember Andre,” McCoy said when they had finally finished their greetings.

“Aye,” said Granddad as Francine nodded.

“This is Anthony and Averie,” he continued, motioning at the other two guards.

“Andre and Anthony and Averie,” Granddad said, lifting a brow in amusement.

“They call us ‘Team Alpha,’” Averie smiled.

“Quite fitting,” Francine laughed.

“We’ll just look around quickly and then these two will be out of your hair,” Andre said. “I’ll be here first, and we’ll rotate about every eight hours.”

“Will ye need a key?” Francine asked, looking concerned.

“No ma’am, thank you,” Andre said. “We’ll let each other in as necessary.”

Team Alpha went off together to check around the house.

McCoy looked around. “It’s looking better with those pictures up.”

“Isn’t it?” Francine said. “Harriet found a few more after the ones she brought when ye were here last.”

“Oh,” McCoy said, feeling his cheeks color. He and Scotty’s aunt had not taken to each other. Though who could blame Harriet after the way McCoy had spoken to her. He had apologized when Granddad had taken him back later.

“Malcolm and Iona sent a few other things as well after ye left,” Granddad added.

“What?” Scotty asked in surprise. “He thought of someone beside himself?”

“Apparently,” Granddad chuckled. “Suppose that’s them putting in their bid to be invited to another royal wedding.”

McCoy looked at Scotty and rolled his eyes. He had promised to keep that pair from being anywhere near Scotty again. He would personally lose any invitation to them if their siblings someday got married.

“I suppose ye lads would like to rest a little after your trip,” Francine said. “If ye’re hungry let me know, otherwise ye know when dinner is.”

“Thanks Francine,” McCoy said.

“We’ll go unpack,” Scotty said.

Part 4

Scotty

It was nice to come home again, even if it wouldn't be for too long. Scotty loved spending time with his mother and grandfather and he knew Leonard did too. The prince had been warmly welcomed into the family and Francine had quickly won over another son. Granddad also loved talking to Leonard.

Together, Scotty and Leonard first retired to Scotty's room. It was one of their favorite places in the house, next to the garden, and they always spent a lot of time in there.

The luggage quickly flew into a corner and the boys made themselves comfortable on the bed. Francine had been right. They really were exhausted from the journey and needed to get some rest.

"How was the flight for ye, mo ghràdh?"

Scotty ran a hand tenderly through Leonard's hair and his husband shrugged his shoulders. Scotty knew how much anxiety flying often caused him.

"It was... okay, I guess. With you by my side."

A smile played around Leonard's lips as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Scotty's lips.

He only pulled his head back when he noticed that Scotty seemed worried.

"What? What is it?"

The young Scotsman sighed slightly and looked at Leonard thoughtfully. An oppressive feeling spread through his chest.

"What... if ye ever have to fly alone? If I'm needed somewhere else and cannae be with ye?"

Leonard blinked a few times, but then he shook his head and smiled gently.

"That's not going to happen. I'll insist that we're always together on missions."

Scotty wanted to say something back, but his counterpart put a finger to his lips to stop him.

"I am a prince. No one will dare contradict me."

Scotty couldn't help but grin.

"Is that referring to me or the people of Starfleet?"

At that, Leonard's face brightened and he chuckled softly.

"Hmm... both. Just don't worry so much. Everything will be fine."

A nod from Scotty was all it took for Leonard's lips to find their way back to his and this time Scotty returned the kiss passionately.

Leonard was right. He was probably just worrying too much about nothing.

"There ye are, lads. Did ye manage to get some rest?"

Francine was beaming from ear to ear when Scotty and Leonard entered the kitchen. The table was already set and something was simmering on the stove.

"Aye."

"Yes, Francine. That smells delicious. What are you cooking?"

Leonard stepped over to the stove and took a look.

"Oh, nothing special. Just some sausages. That goes quite well with the salad," Francine replied as she took said salad out of the fridge.

"Is there anything else we can do to help?" Scotty asked, even though most of the food looked ready.

"Ye could let Alasdair know that dinner's ready. I think he's downstairs in his workshop."

"Already on it, ma'am," Scotty replied and saluted jokingly before he and Leonard made their way to the cellar.

"Granddad?"

They found the elderly gentleman sitting on a chair at the work table. He was obviously whittling away at something.

"Dinner's ready."

Hearing those words, Alasdair turned and looked at the boys who had stopped at the stairs.

"Oh, thanks, lads. I'll be right up."

Curious, Scotty stuck his head forward to see what his grandfather was holding.

"What are ye working on?"

Granddad's gaze wandered to the piece of wood and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm not sure what it's going to be yet. I... I'll just let my thoughts run free."

"That sounds good. That way you can surprise yourself," Leonard said and Alasdair laughed.

"Aye. Well then... Go on up. I'll be with ye in a moment."

"Please, ma'am, that's not necessary."

The boys could hear Andre's voice from afar as they made their way back up and both of them had to chuckle when they saw the bodyguard standing in the hallway, Francine standing in front of him with a plate in her hands.

"No, no, ye have to eat something, lad. I insist."

Andre threw a glance at Leonard and Scotty, obviously asking for their help, but both of them knew that he didn't stand a chance.

"Just take it, Andre. It's really good. And Francine is right. You have to eat."

At hearing Leonard's words, Andre carefully took the plate handed to him, then nodded at Francine.

"Well then... thank you, ma'am."

"And ye really don't want to sit down with us?"

"Oh... uhm, no, thanks. I'll guard the door."

Scotty chuckled softly. Once one was part of the family, there was no way out.

[ask-elland-n-will]

Will isn't sure what he expected. Knowing what he already knew about the man, Andrew would not have got mad at him for asking. Being defensive? Probably. Shooting back something along the lines of what Allegra or Sebastian experienced from Andrew before? Perhaps. Will knows Montrose is capable of being mean. Would Andrew want to cross the line over this?

This conversation shouldn't be the end of anything, especially judging by Andrew's excited owls the day before, at the time when it was already past his birthday. But it doesn't make Will feel any better when he hears Andrew's attempt at a laugh. Will lightly nods: yes, it was Theo. Who else, you, goose? With you telling no one else?

"I understand," Will says. Or he thinks he said it: it was either in his head or whispered so quietly that Andrew didn't pick up on it as he continued to talk.

Will hides his nose deeper into the scarf and softly breathes out, not wishing to show the nervousness that came with the change in Andrew's voice. He wants to say that it's ok and Andrew doesn't need to explain further, but when was the last time anyone told Will something that personal instead of blowing up and making Will sound like the guilty party?

Monty never enjoyed his birthdays? Unpleasant reminders? No reason to celebrate and no one to celebrate with? What is Andrew's life like back home if he runs away on his own birthday, wishing for no one to see him? The prefect thinks momentarily of Allegra and feels his eyes cloud a little. He is glad he is not facing Andrew, otherwise he'd ruin an honest moment with his sniffling. The ripples of water in the lake are calm and soothing but Will's face reflecting in it is anything but. Go away, crybaby, not now! Will pushes a couple of stones into the water with his boots, making the image unreadable when Andrew comes closer.

The touch follows. There is a measured urgency in it which makes Will blink away whatever moisture came over his eyes and slowly turn to Andrew again. The Slytherin looks at their hands first, squeezing Andrew's, showing that he is listening. And only then he looks up to face the Ravenclaw, hoping that the sincerity he hears is there in Monty's eyes as well.

"I understand," Will says again, loud enough for sure this time. And he means it.

If Andrew is already open to considering changing some things in his life — it’s a start. A conversation. The little snake feels a bit giddy about Andrew already wishing to share more birthdays with Will in the future. Especially with Will.

"There is nothing to forgive, Andrew. I might have overreacted. I am sure you didn’t mean to upset me, I am sorry, it really is all on me. As I said, you're your own man. It is only partially about the birthday and more about my— me— What we've had those past few weeks, I—"

He has to stop speaking: words are not coming out in the right way. Will shifts the position of their hands to hold onto Andrew's tightly: he is not done and needs to rephrase. He isn't sure if he is upset at Andrew more or himself, for having such a reaction to somebody's personal choice. It makes sense, all that Andrew says. Will asked — Will got his answer. But he still feels out of sorts and doesn't know how to express it. He never really had a chance to before.

Will can feel Andrew’s train of thoughts running full steam ahead but the Ravenclaw is quiet, his face — that of concentration, dark pensiveness. The prefect is glad to be given a moment, especially feeling Andrew’s soothing touch. When did Monty start running his hand softly along Will’s back?  

“Take a breath, Will. It’s okay. I’m listening…” It’s a clumsy attempt, as Andrew’s not used to being the reassuring type yet, but he knows he wants to do what he can to settle Will down, and help him focus. Andrew continues the pattern of reassuring touches for a moment as he patiently waits for Will to continue, but then takes a step back so that he can face Will fully when he starts to speak. 

"It's about understanding where we stand? I thought you might, erm..." Will pauses, still unsure if he should push forward. "I thought you would tell me things like this, Andrew. I assumed a lot since we do not exactly really talk about how we... who we are to each other? I thought one thing, and stupidly got upset about it. I was excited to maybe do something fun for you. But you have a reason not to celebrate, I understand that, logically. My feelings on the matter might need a bit more time to catch up. I just came to clear things up, and I'm unsure if I'm any good to spend time with at the moment. It's on me. Just... Well, nobody ever said that feelings are logical, right?"

Montrose continues to steadily watch Will, holding his breath. His neck flushes at “who we are to each other” all the way to his ears. Although they were both dancing around it, they both knew at some level this conversation was about more than just a birthday…and a long time coming.

Even Montrose struggles to hide his hopefulness as he tries to piece together their situation. He gives Will a long and thoughtful look. 

Will goes silent again, tugging at the scarf he has wrapped around his neck. He wants to look away but stubbornly stays put.

A sigh escapes Andrew. “This is why my birthday is more trouble than it's worth,” he jokes, albeit Will feels harsh emotion in it: it didn’t sound like something he should laugh at. “All it’s done is it made you upset.”

“Oh, no, the only one who upset me is me,” Will huffs out. He has to take Andrew’s other hand in his as well. Enough fiddling with the scarf.

Andrew looks down at their hands together in furious concentration in an attempt to anchor his thoughts, “I think I understand a bit better now.” He starts carefully.

“What I mean to say is… that it seems like this is only partially about my birthday. Then again, I don’t want to assume things either since we’ve both done an awful lot of that.” His grin is crooked at the jest, but he forces some seriousness back into his next words.

“...This is just as new for me as it is for you. So maybe we haven’t talked a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want there to be more.” He pauses, before quickly adding, “That is to say…if there is more…” 

Despite how much wiggle room those statements have, Will’s breath catches in his throat for a moment. So… he does want there to be more, right? Is he asking whether Will wants more? Of course Will wants more! Soon! Now!.. Wait, wait, no, not now, he needs a bit more time to calm down and evaluate things. It’s only been 3 or 4 weeks since they started the chase. They are still in their honeymoon stage, what if things die down before it trully becomes serious? Will is sure that all manner of emotions played out on his face at those thoughts, to add to his burning cheeks.

“I— Perhaps when we are more… you know… If you want to. I’m not sure I am in the right state for this at the moment,” he mumbles, feeling the need to dodge as much as Andrew. They came to an impasse.

Monty shifts just slightly, as he nods in understanding. “Right, right. I don’t know if either of us are truly.” He huffs a laugh before adding, “And it's probably for the best. I’m no knight in shining armour, after all. I believe someone else around here already holds that title quite well. The list of things I’m working on could probably fill the entire Hogwarts library. Shortcomings, and all that.” 

“Shortcomings? Trust me, Allegra makes sure to point those out to me every day," Will gives Andrew a little laugh, his face bright red still. “And yet I’m here.”

Andrew grins again at the mention of Allegra, “Ah, yes. And what would we do without her? I’m still not giving up there… nor do I tend to give up easily in general.” An emotion like gratefulness fills Andrew at hearing Will’s words about still being there with him as he pulls Will into a tight embrace, smiling although Will can’t see if from where he’s pressed into Monty. 

“I know you are.” Andrew says softly, “... And I hope you plan on keeping it that way. I promise not to give up on this either. Whatever ‘this’ ends up being.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

They do not spend much time at the docks, at Will’s insistence. For one (not that he would tell Andrew), Will finds it embarrassing when he can’t articulate things appropriately and when emotions get the better of him. He feels like both laughing and crying at the same time. Perhaps even kissing (like a fool, of course he’d think of that with Andrew so close), but he dreads it being their first kiss while he is a mess. 

And two, they do have things to think about. As much as Will regrets leaving his date hanging, it feels right to him. Maybe they’ll spend time together later that day when they work on their studies. Or play their little game at lunch, making Will’s friends roll their eyes. But for now, all the reassurance and mutual understanding made Will certain: if they are able to talk things through like civilized people, then whatever issues might arise in the future — they can overcome them. I little break would not hurt them. On the contrary, it’ll make the future possibilities all the more sweeter.

[Written as a collaboration between me and my beloved @theodoradevlin 💚]

The day was clear, still warm for it being nearly October. But Andrew noted the hints of change already on the edges of the trees lining the Great Lake. Before long, the view would look entirely different.

He considered alternative means of getting down to the boathouse since the steps would likely take him half an hour alone, but he was stubborn. As if stairs could best him. He could cut that time in half…and if he was honest with himself, he needed the time to think before meeting William there.

William.

The last few weeks the fox had been a resounding thought echoing in his brain. It had surprised Andrew to say the least.

Montrose had been so used to keeping to himself, so the recent AND sudden influx of interactions from peers, besides Theo, was perplexing. He hadn’t entirely known what to do with it, or known if any of it was genuine.

And, frankly, he had spent too much time questioning authenticity in the past he wasn’t in the business of doing it any longer. It may, or may not, have resulted in some prickly interactions.

There was only one person that hadn’t left him with doubts, despite not really knowing what in Merlin’s bloody name they were doing.

Andrew continues to walk down the stairs as he turns the thought over in his head, shoving his hands further into the pockets of his robe. An exasperated sigh works it’s way out as he thinks, his fingers pulling at a loose thread in the inside of his pocket.

William.

The Slytherin Prefect was quite unlike anyone else. Yes, they flirted like it was a sport, but beyond that he couldn’t deny that something was growing between them like a flower in bloom. No....more like an entire grove of lilac. Wild, everywhere, and enrapturing.

There was something Andrew respected in the way William went after everything he wanted, while also being intentional in the way he showed up for others. Even outside his prefect duties.

Will's constant curiosity was endearing, but it was his competitiveness that gave him an edge that drew Montrose in. William knew exactly how to make Montrose chase him. How to make him slightly try to behave himself. Even though they both struggled to behave when with they were with each other.

He had some kind of hold on on him that even Andrew had yet to determine for himself.

And all that teasing.

Merlin.

The lingering touches, discreet glances...and the not so discreet ones.

The way Will had created such wanting in Andrew, through seemingly small subtleties. It was all consuming. Montrose would have to be lacking a pulse to not be curious. To not want more.

He wanted to trust himself. He wanted to trust this. But he wasn’t without faults. He had been so used to only relying on himself that he hadn’t let anyone close enough, besides Theo, to even allow things to get to the point of curiosity. The shift Will caused in him had thrown him enough that he had disappeared for the last two weeks.

Even his birthday, where Theo had found him in their secret place, barging down the door and calling him a fool, as she did.

Theo told him to take the chance.

But Will made him want to take the chance.

So he came back. And he walked himself down all these stairs to the boathouse. And he waited for what came next.

Andrew looked upwards, to the great spires of the castle standing against the sun. In the light, he saw a small figure flying towards him, slowly growing larger and clearer in his view. He smiled as he called him down to where he stood.

“Fox!”

@ask-elland-n-will

[url-is-under-construction]

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝, 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝟏.𝟎𝟑 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Standard The 100 Warnings! It's a violent and heavy show and that will be represented in here x

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: The ground was toxic. That's what they'd told you all your life. Now you find yourself falling from the sky, and learning to survive on the ground with 99 other delinquents and 1 fake guard wasn't going to be easy.

𝐀/𝐍: Thank you everyone here and on AO3 for the support in this! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and let me know if you'd like to join the little tag list I've got going <3

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @hftff-lol

"Can you get us some clean water?" Clarke asks as she turns to you with nervous eyes.

Jasper laid between the two of us, groaning and writhing in pain as sweat gathered on his forehead and upper lip. His eyes were still tightly shut and he was a ghastly color in the dropship.

Shouts came from outside for him to shut up, and it made a low pit of anger develop at the bottom of your stomach. If any single one of them were in Jasper's condition right now they'd be begging to be saved and moaning in pain too.

"Of course." You nod at her, giving him one last look and nodding to Monty before you hurried down the ladder and made your way out to camp.

People slept, or tried their hardest to, all around you as you stepped between the bodies.

Your head quickly snaps in the direction of a shout.

"No! No!"

You forget about the water and look around frantically, trying to locate the source of the screams.

You hurry in the direction of them, your heart beating faster as you wonder what's going to wait for you when you arrive.

A little girl, no older than fourteen, is not what you expect.

She's curled around herself on the ground, clutching her jacket tightly as you crouch beside her and shake her shoulder, whispering gently.

"Hey, wake up." She jumps awake with a gasp, her eyes wide like a baby deer in headlights as she pushes herself up into a seated position. "It's ok, it's ok." You try your hardest to soothe her as she looks around, taking in her surroundings. "It was just a dream."

Now that she's awake you recognize her as the girl from the dropship, the one who had held your hand on the way down.

"I never caught your name, you know?" You smile at her, taking a seat beside her against the tree trunk.

"Charlotte." She mumbles. "I know who you are."

"I think everyone does by now." You joke and nudge her shoulder.

She doesn't respond.

You hesitate, wondering how to comfort her. Your mother had never comforted you after your nightmares; you had just had to learn to go back to sleep on your own.

Remembering how she had gripped your hand for comfort on the ship though, you reached out and grabbed a hold of hers, enveloping it in your larger but still quite small hand.

"It's okay to be scared." You say softly. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

"My parents." She whispers, her voice broken from the crying and screaming. "They were floated, and it's like- it's like I see it every night in my dreams and I-"

"I understand." You squeeze her hand. "Both of my parents were floated as well. How'd you end up here?"

She sighs. "When they were taking my parents things to the redistribution center, I sort of lost it. Apparently I assaulted a guard."

"Well who could blame you for that?" You ask with a small smile and this time she returns it, no matter how small. "Do you see that really bright star up there?"

She follows where your finger is pointing and nods.

"That's the Ark." You explain, recalling what Clarke showed you the night before. "And a really good friend of mine told me that everything that happened up there, it's all behind us now. This is our second chance. As a society and as individuals."

"Do you really think that's true?" She asks you, her voice tentative.

"I know it is." You sigh. "I was supposed to die three days ago. It was my eighteenth birthday, and they would have floated me. If this is my second chance, then it's yours as well Charlotte. It's everyone in this camps."

She leans against you, her body finally relaxing and you tuck her head beneath your chin as you wrap your arm around her. You never got to be a big sister, but down here with Charlotte you felt more than ever that you were one.

~

Groans were still echoing throughout the camp long into the morning, keeping everyone agitated and on edge.

"Hey!" You call out to Octavia as she storms out of a tent, looking more pissed than ever.

She whirls around to look at you, her eyes burning as her jaw is tightly clenched. "What?" She spits and you hold you hands up.

"Just wanted to know if you were alright."

She seems to force herself to relax at that, taking in a deep breath as she answers you.

"My brother."

"Join the club." You grumble. "What's he done this time?"

"Went on another power trip, and now I'm the one paying." She doesn't elaborate on it and you don't push her to as a scream rings out through the camp.

It's guttural and makes your stomach clench uncomfortably as you and Octavia lock eyes.

"Jasper." You breathe out and the two of you rush to the dropship where the screams are coming from.

"Clarke what are you doing!" You yell as the two of you arrive on their level, your eyes widening at the sight of a burning hot knife in her hand.

"She's trying to save his life." Finn answers you calmly.

"She can't."

You all turn at the voice that comes from behind you; you hadn't even known Bellamy was coming up.

"Back off." Wells says, placing himself protectively between Bellamy and the rest of you.

"We didn't drag him through miles of woods just to die." Clarke says, not pulling her attention away from Jasper's wound.

"He's a goner." Bellamy argues. "And if you can't see that you're deluded. He's making people crazy."

"Sorry if Jasper is an inconvenience to you, but this isn't the Ark." Clarke bites back, finally fed up. "Down here every life matters."

Bellamy's glare is hard and unrelenting as he gestures to where Jasper's weak body lays. "Take a look at him. He's a lost cause."

There's a long, drawn out silence as all of you consider his words, letting the true meaning of them sink in.

Jasper could die; and judging by the current state he was in, he was going to.

"No." Clarke shakes her head, speaking quietly. "I spent my whole life watching my mother heal. If I say he has hope, he has hope."

"This isn't about hope, it's about guts. You don't have the guts to make the hard choices, I do. He's been this way for three days Clarke. If he's not better by tomorrow, I'm killing him myself."

"Good luck with that." You say threateningly to him as you stand with your arms hugged across your chest defensively, and he shoots you a warning look.

"Try and stop me Lucky. I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your brain too if I have to."

"Hey!" Finn cuts in to defend you, always acting as the mediator.

Bellamy ignores him, his hard eyes never leaving yours as you try your hardest to stare back and show him that his words didn't scare you.

"You're supposed to be dead Y/n. You're living on expired time and we all know it. If you aren't careful it won't be long before it runs out."

"Are you threatening me Blake?" You ask, your voice dangerously low.

"It means whatever you want it to mean." He tears his eyes from you and looks down at Octavia who is fuming at his words. "Octavia, let's go."

She scoffs at him as she shakes her head. "No. I'm staying here, and so is Y/n so don't get any ideas."

He looks between the two of you before he gives up, turning and leaving down the hatch he came up leaving a thick tension to linger in the room.

"Power hungry, self serving jackass. He doesn't care about anyone but himself." Monty mutters before looking at Octavia. "No offense."

"None taken." She shakes her head. "He just threatened to kill two of my only friends down here."

"Hey, O." You say to her as you squeeze her shoulder, Bellamy's nickname rolling off your tongue before you could even think about it. "Me and Jasper aren't going to go anywhere. I'll make sure of it."

She nods, trying her hardest to keep a brave face as she looks back down at Jasper.

"He's all that and more." Finn says, referring to Monty's earlier statement. "But he happens to be right as well."

You want to open your mouth to argue; to tell them all that Clarke was right and that there was hope for Jasper, that he'd survive, just like all of were every day.

But you couldn't, because you knew that he was right, and you also knew that Bellamy would stay true to his threat if you couldn't heal him within the next twenty four hours.

~

"Hey." You smile as you approach the one place you figured Charlotte would be.

She turns when you sit beside her, her back still leaning against the tree trunk you had found her sleeping beside last night.

"Hey." She says back to you, sighing.

You nudge her shoulder with your own.

"What's got you so down?"

She looks over at you, debating whether or not to tell you and you look at her expectantly.

"C'mon Charlotte."

"Fine." She says deflated as she picks at some grass beneath her. "I wanted to go out with the hunting party that left earlier, and Murphy told me I was just a little girl who would only get herself hurt."

"Murphy's a dick." You shake your head. "Take it from someone who went to school with him, he is more of a little girl than you will ever be."

She laughs a little.

"I'll tell you what." You say, pushing yourself up to your feet and dusting the dirt off of your worn and faded denim pants. "I'm going to take you out for a walk around the woods just outside camp."

"Really?" She asks as you hold a hand out to her and pull her up.

"Really. We aren't hunting though, we're just gonna get out of here for a while, cause I need to clear my head too."

She seems to notice that something was bothering you, and that it would be just as much for your benefit as it would be for hers, so she smiles, pulling your hand after her as she walks off into the woods.

You can't help but giggle like a little girl; your inner child mesmerized and infatuated with the new world that surrounded you.

Butterflies, trees, the smell of sweet air. All of it flooded your senses as your eyes roamed around your surroundings as you walked deeper and deeper into the woods. It was green for as far as the eye could see, and you relished the feeling of actual soft dirt beneath your boots instead of hard metal.

"So," Charlotte says as you walk together. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing." You lie nonchalantly. You were supposed to be the carer here, not the other way around. Charlotte was only a child, and she didn't need to be the one worried about you.

"Y/n." She deadpans as she looks up at you. "I'm twelve, I'm not blind. Just tell me."

It was your turn to sigh.

"You know how we bought back that guy, Jasper?" You look down at her and she nods. "Well he's still really sick, and Bellamy's given us until tomorrow to save him or he'll kill him himself."

"Oh." Charlotte says.

"That's not all." You say, almost chuckling. Humor had always been your go-to defense mechanism. "I protested, obviously, and told him that we wouldn't let him." You trail off.

"Then what?"

"Then he told me that he would kill me too if he had to. Said that I was supposed to have died three days ago, and that I'm living on expired time and if I'm not careful, who knows what's gonna happen to me."

There's no response as you look down at Charlotte who seems affected by your words. She crosses her arms and you can tell she's worried for you as her brows furrow.

"Hey," you say softly, putting your hand on her shoulder. "Bellamy's not gonna do anything to me. Or Jasper."

"I know, I know." She says. "It's just that I lost my parents, and now I have you and you- you're looking out for me and trying to take care of me, and I just don't want to lose you too."

"You won't Charlotte." You squeeze her shoulder. "You won't ever lose me no matter what, and you know why?"

"Why?" She asks as you stop walking and turn her to face you.

"Because, you'll always have this from me." You reach up to your neck and unclasp the small silver chain you had sitting there.

It was a basic necklace, with no charms on it, but it was still prettier than most jewellery on the Ark. You had found it beneath your bunk the first day you had been thrown into the sky box, the same day you discovered the hole in the wall and met Clarke.

"It's beautiful." Charlotte says as you hand it to her.

"Do you want me to put it on?"

She nods and turns around, handing you back the necklace before lifting her hair and you clasp it around her neck.

"It looks way better on you than it ever did on me." You joke as she reaches up to her chest to touch it.

"Thank you."

You open your mouth to say something else but a loud squawking noise from above cuts you off, and the two of you both look up to see a storm of feathers above, frantically flying ahead.

A loud horn sounds too and you quickly turn and look in the direction the birds were flying from.

"What-"

"Oh my god." You cut Charlotte off as you grip her hand.

A giant storm of yellow was rolling towards you, lightning and thunder cracking inside of it as it loomed largely.

"Charlotte run!" You yell as you all but drag her behind you, using your legs to propel you over the terrain as best as you could.

Your lungs burn and so does your arm from pulling Charlotte along behind you but you ignore it, soldiering on as you breathe heavily, your eyes alert looking for any kind of refuge from the yellow fog.

Suddenly you see movement ahead, other people running as well and you call out as soon as you recognize the curly head of hair.

"Bellamy!"

You push yourself faster and so does Charlotte as he pauses to look behind at the two of you.

"Y/n?" He asks, hesitating as the rest of the hunting party runs ahead. You catch up to him as and he quickens his pace again, so that the three of you were running nearly side by side. "We have to find shelter! There are caves this way!"

You nod, continuing to push yourself as fast as you could as the fog creeps up behind you, gaining on the three of you.

You foot catches on a root and you stumble, letting go of Charlotte's hand as Bellamy grabs a hold of your arm and pulls you forward behind him.

You don't look back as he tugs you along, with Charlotte running beside you.

None of you do until he yanks you around a corner, ushering you into a cave when a scream calls through the fog.

"Bellamy!"

You recognize Atom's voice and your eyes widen as Bellamy sticks his head around the corner but you pull him back, shaking your head.

"It's too dangerous."

"But-"

"No!" You cut him off. "Get inside."

He looks between the cave's exit and you and Charlotte before he finally ducks inside with the rest of you, albeit begrudgingly.

~

"No! No!" Charlotte's familiar screams startle you awake as you open your eyes and push yourself up off the rocky floor.

You push yourself up to rush to her side but Bellamy beats you to it, shaking her awake.

"I'm sorry." She mumbles groggily as she sits up, and you quickly shrug off your jacket to hand it to her as you notice the way she's trembling. It's probably more so from fear, but you can tell that it helps as she pulls it over her shoulders, letting it engulf her.

Her hand reaches up to toy with the chain you had given her earlier and it makes your heart warm.

"Does that happen often?" Bellamy asks, his voice unusually soft and gentle as he gazes at her.

She nods, keeping her gaze on her lap.

"What are you scared of?" He asks her, and she remains silent.

"Bellamy." You say, trying to urge him to drop it, but he ignores you.

"You know what, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you do about it."

"But I'm asleep." She says softly.

He shrugs. "Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you're awake, they won't be there to get you when you sleep."

"Yeah, but how?" She asks, now seeming to take an interest in his words.

"You can't afford to be weak. Down here, weakness is death. Fear is death."

"Way to be inspiring Blake." You say sarcastically but he ignores you, instead keeping his watchful gaze trained on Charlotte.

"What's something that makes you feel safe. Something you always have on you?" Bellamy asks and Charlotte hesitates for a second before her hand returns to the chain around her neck.

"It's pretty." He says, brushing his thumb over it. "Who gave it to you."

She nods her head to you gratefully, and you and Bellamy lock eyes briefly before he turns back to her.

"Now, when you feel afraid, I want you to hold on to it, and I want you to muster up all the courage you can, and say 'screw you, I'm not afraid'. Can you do that?"

She nods, and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small knife crafted from the wreckage of the dropship.

"And to be extra safe, I want you to have this as well." She takes it from him, flipping it over in her small hands as she clutches the handle.

"Thank you." She whispers.

"Slay your demons kid." He says with a smile. "Then you'll be able to sleep."

"Speaking of sleep," you say to her gently. "You really should try to get some more."

She nods, laying back down in her spot and you press a quick kiss to her hairline before pulling away back to your initial spot on the ground, feeling the cold seep into your bones through the damp stony wall.

It causes a shiver to run down your spine, one that goes unnoticed by Bellamy as he wordlessly shrugs off his guard jacket, handing it to you.

You glare at it, then back at him before the icy chill is too much and you take it, pulling it over your shoulders the same way Charlotte had done with yours.

"Thank you." You whisper, not wanting to wake her.

"It's fine." He says, returning to his spot on the other side of the cave. "Get some sleep Lucky." He says, and you press your head back against the wall, letting your eyelashes flutter shut against your cheekbones.

A few minutes of silence pass when you hear movement beside you, but you keep your eyes shut.

"Bellamy." You hear Charlotte whisper into the dark, and a part of you wants to open your eyes. The other, far nosier part of you wants to stay asleep and listen to the conversation.

"Yeah?" You hear him ask, and you make your decision. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

You keep your breathing as even as possible as to not alert them that you're listening as they speak.

"Y/n said something to me, earlier when we were walking."

"Mhm?" He hums.

"She said you threatened to kill her."

There's a pause before he finally speaks.

"I was mad, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

You could've scoffed. It was a pitiful defense; his words had been thought out and carefully spoken, he knew exactly what he was saying to you and exactly how it would affect you.

"I can't lose her too." Charlotte says, her voice breaking.

"You won't Charlotte, I promise." He reassures her gently. "I could never kill her, no matter how much she makes me want to."

Charlotte chuckles a little at that. "I'm glad she didn't die."

"I know." He says. "Me too."

There are no more words exchanged as you hear Charlotte's breathing deepen again and figure that she's fallen back asleep.

You follow suit, letting your mind dip out of consciousness as the exhaustion from today sets in.

~

"It's all clear." You say as the three of you step back into the woods, out of the solace of the cave.

"Anybody out here!" Bellamy yells as you take hesitant steps.

The acid fog was gone, but you couldn't stop the nagging feeling that it was going to reappear, and that this time you wouldn't be able to outrun it.

"Over here!" A vague shout comes and you all make your way towards it, finding three kids you recognized from the hunting party.

"Lost you in the storm." Bellamy says as you all approach. "Where were you guys?"

"Made it to a cave down there." The one in the middle explains, gesturing with his spear. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know." Bellamy answers truthfully. "Where's Atom?"

The boys eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "He isn't with you?"

"Shit." You hiss, turning your head to keep an eye on Charlotte who had wandered off a few feet to the side.

"Right, we split up-"

Bellamy is cut off by Charlotte's screams and you all turn, running towards her as she points down the hill, horror etched onto her features.

"Charlotte what..." You trail off as you approach her, your hands instantly settling onto her shoulders as you see Atom laying on the ground, a mess of mangled and burnt skin, bubbling with burst blood vessels and blisters. "Oh my god."

"Son of a bitch." Bellamy says from behind you before he rushes down the small hill to reach his friend.

You follow him, leaving Charlotte to stand by herself and kneel beside him, hovering over Atom's irreparable body.

He gasps for air as he lays writhing on the ground, clearly in a severe amount of pain.

The sight makes your gut wrench, but you hold it together as you run a hand over his hair, trying your hardest to soothe him.

He opens his mouth, struggling to get the words out as he gapes like a fish and you have to lean in close to hear what he's trying to tell you.

"Kill me." He manages to beg out between his cracked and burnt lips. "Kill me, kill me, kill me."

The others all approach behind you, and you watch Charlotte slide the knife Bellamy had given her into his hand. "Don't be afraid." She whispers.

Your eyes watch Bellamy carefully as he looks between the knife and Atom who lay on the ground, convulsing.

"Go back to camp." He says, looking over his shoulder at the audience that had gathered. "You as well Charlotte."

They all leave, leaving you and Bellamy in the clearing with Atom in front of you.

Bellamy kneels beside you again, the knife gripped tightly in his hand as Atom continues to beg for his life to end, turning his head over to reveal the charred flesh of his neck.

"Bellamy?" You ask, looking at him as he stares at Atom, almost in disbelief. He sits back on his heels, letting out a deep breath and you tentatively reach out to his hand, pulling the knife from it.

"Y/n." He shakes his head, but before you can do anything the sound of footsteps behind you makes you jump.

Clarke approaches the two of you, her eyes glued onto Atom.

"Oh my god." She breathes out, rushing to his drop to her knees at his head, cradling it.

He continues his mantra, and Clarke looks at you, and then at the knife in your hand and you nod.

She returns it and looks back down at Atom, giving him a tight smile as she strokes his hair and begins to hum.

You take the chance to bring the knife to his neck, sliding it into his throat with a wince. The dullness of the blade means you have to apply extra pressure, and you grimace, shutting your eyes tightly as you feel his blood pour out and onto your hand.

Finally, his movements cease and his breathing shallows until eventually he breathes his last breath.

Slowly, you slide the knife out, handing it back to Bellamy as you stand and wipe your shaky hand on your pants.

"Lucky-"

He tries to say something gently to you but you cut him off, your voice shaky.

"We need to get him back to camp to bury him."

He looks at you, his mouth open slightly like he's trying to find the words to say something but he closes it, nodding in agreement with you.

"Okay."

~

You finally arrive back at camp, Atom's body covered with his jacket on a makeshift stretcher that Bellamy and Clarke had carried as you had walked with your head down and your arms crossed, your mind still processing what you had just done.

You had killed someone. You had taken a knife and you had ended his life, forever. He had been begging for it, which you reminded yourself of, but still. What if back at camp they had managed to contact the Ark and Clarke's mom could've found a way to save him.

The world is a blur around you as people rush about, Clarke now gone back to Jasper and Octavia crouched by Atom's body, distraught as ever.

You continue to stare at one spot on the ground until you feel a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"Hey." You look up into Bellamy's eyes, peering down at you with concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah." You nod carelessly, trying to put on a brave face for him.

He sees right through it though, and his gaze drops down to your hand, still stained red with Atom's blood.

"Come with me." He says, taking it gently and pulling you after him as the two of your reach the dropship.

You can hear the others above and Jasper's groans but you're oblivious to it as Bellamy sits you down and leaves, coming back moments later with a rag and a small container of water.

He kneels in front of you, taking your hand and using the wet rag to gently clean Atom's blood from it. His hands are warm around yours, and they work with the utmost of care, like he was afraid they'd break you if he was too rough.

"Thank you." You whisper as he dips it into the water again and continues to bathe your hand.

The red slowly disappears from it, much to your relief as he squeezes your now clean hand, holding on to still as he speaks.

"It's fine Lucky." His gaze stays on your entwined hands. "I should really be thanking you."

You chuckle a little, pulling your hand from his.

"I have to check on Jasper. Go entertain your crowd Blake."

He looks between you and the dropship door, debating leaving and you nudge him along.

"Go."

He lets out a sigh and stands, pulling you up with him before he pulls you into a tight hug, one that surprises you.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders though as he squeezes you, almost having to stand on your tip toes to reach as he mumbles. "I mean it. Thank you, for Atom."

"Anyone would've done it." You say, shaking your head as you pull away. "Go enjoy yourself, please."

He caves in, and you watch as he disappears out the door and the kids cheer, calling him over with questions or stories.

Maybe you didn't hate him as much as you thought you did.

Well here it is. I think I'm like a quarter of the way through the first season now which is pretty good if you ask me.

Anyways let me know if you wanna be on the tag list and thanks for all the support <3

[concernedlily]

cousins wip 14

Now posted in slightly revised form up to the end of the tumblr pt 10 on AO3! This index was getting long so either read there or click on the ‘like that through all eternity’ tag to read previous parts here.

pt 11

pt 12

pt 13

Gear had looked politely confused when Porsche said he’d come along to a routine shakedown of one of the many owners of low-class gambling dens on the minor family’s books.

When said owner calls him <i>Ai Porsche</i> and tries to take a swing at him Gear looks livid.

The main family had kept that from him, then, when they assigned him to Porsche. Porsche wonders whether it’s because Korn simply didn’t want to let the help know how they’d got Porsche in the first place, or whether it was because Kinn is still ashamed of it.

Porsche could have evaded the blow easily, but he’d stood relaxed and still instead, his face impassive, and let Main step in front of him and take Moo out with a swift, impersonal pistolwhip to the head. Moo is swaying in Main’s hold now, blood dripping down his forehead, and his eyes glazed. 

A lot different from the last time Porsche had seen him, telling Porsche his uncle had gambled Porsche’s desperately-needed windfall and lost. A lot different from the last time Porsche had heard him, asking Kinn for a favour in return for the favour of putting the screws on Porsche so he’d make the obvious choice between losing his parents’ house and taking Kinn’s job offer.

Porsche stopped lying awake to wonder whether he should have sacrificed the house like Chay begged him to months ago. And now he knows even that impossible choice had been no choice at all. Their house was mafia territory from the day Namphueng Theerapanyakul moved into it, and Korn was always going to come back to it to scoop her sons up whenever he pleased.

Gear sends only the most reliable and senior of their still-ragtag band of men out on these jobs, and has only himself attended today because Porsche is here. Porsche knows the three men present will be watching him closely to see how he deals with someone he obviously knows; someone who obviously knows him as a mafia mark, not a leader, one of the cringing supplicants whose only worth is how much can be squeezed out of them. They’ll take whatever he does now back with them and spread it around all the minor family’s people, and it will affect how they treat his leadership for however long it lasts. 

He takes his jacket off, folds it, moving with slow care, and hands it to Monti, who accepts it with a small bow. He does the same with his shirt, leaving just a tight tank top, revealing the hard muscle of his arms, his forearms corded when he stretches his hands and clenches his fists, warming up, cricks his neck on both sides.

Moo must have known Porsche fought in the rings, but Porsche doesn’t remember it being one of the businesses he had fingers in. He looks up at Porsche with dull realisation that Porsche knows how to inflict pain, and has the strength to take his time doing it.

“You let the police shut a profitable business down,” Porsche says levelly, and breaks Moo’s nose.

“I didn’t!” Moo swears. “Fucking changed officers on me, getting them bought takes time -”

Porsche kicks him in the knee. He gasps and buckles, hanging limply in Main’s grip, and Pakorn moves forward to help hold him up. It’s oddly reminiscent and Porsche almost laughs, absurdly, when he thinks of the way Chan would hold a punching bag for the bodyguards. Porsche had treated it like training and it’s the first time he’s properly realised what that training was actually for.

“I asked for help!” Moo cries and Porsche backhands him, with the hand he wears the ring, making sure the heavy metal cracks him along the cheekbone. 

“Are you making fucking excuses to me?” he says. He grabs Moo’s hair and brings his head down to meet Porsche’s sharply rising knee. Moo sobs, shaking his head weakly, and spits, blood running down his chin; a tiny lump of flesh, the tip of his tongue, lands on the floor at Porsche’s feet. 

Porsche used to do that and worse to people in the ring. To get money to pay Moo and people like him. People who’d done that and worse to his uncle.

“Put him down,” he says with all the fire and disgust he can manage, thinking of that cycle of violence and pain, feeling sick. Main and Pakorn drop Moo. He lands on his hands and knees and Porsche kicks him again, in the stomach, listening to him retch and cry.

“I’ve been generous to you today,” he says. He takes the pocket square out of the jacket hung over Monti’s arm and wipes the spatters of blood deliberately from his arms and hands. The stained tank top, he’ll throw away later. “You’ve got three days to get it sorted. Cross me once and I’ll take a hand. Twice and I’ll take your life. Got it?”

Moo doesn’t answer, his head bowed, his chest heaving with pain and anger.

Main kicks him hard in the thigh. “Khun Porsche asked you a question,” he says.

“Got it,” Moo slurs, and if his eyes when he looks up at Porsche are full of hatred, Porsche doesn’t care as long as he can also see the fear.

“<i>Khun Porsche</i>,” Main says heavily, kicking him again.

“Got it, Khun Porsche,” Moo grinds out.

Porsche takes his time putting his shirt back on, buttoning it up to the middle of his chest, sliding his jacket on and making sure he looks pristine: looks like absolutely nothing about this morning’s work has touched him at all. Pakorn and his companions from the minor family are looking at him with cautious respect; with understanding. They think he’s like them now, and they’re his.

“Next?” he says to Gear, and leaves without looking in Moo’s direction again.

***

He doesn’t take an active role in the others, sits in the back the way Kinn had, the one time Porsche had sent himself along on a routine <i>lesson</i>, watching with as relaxed an air as he can manage, trying to look like the men deserve it. 

They do deserve it, at least. Nobody they beat today, to the exact degree of viciousness required to secure their regret and obedience and fear and no more, as measured as Porsche once cold read pretty girls for the right cocktail to make them smile, is innocent. It almost feels good, to think of it like that.

If Porsche focuses on that side of it, and not the layer under them, the Thees and Porsches and Chays these men are extorting and exploiting to get the money they pay up to the minor family. 

So many things to put on both sides of the scale, and Porsche is weighed down by the knowledge that everything on the side where he gets to still be a good person is light as air. He had been, once; or maybe not good, but he hadn’t been <i>bad</i>. He’d been getting by, without doing anything heavy enough on the wrong side enough to have to think about it at all. 

He wonders if Kinn ever felt like this. He wonders at what point the balance tips far enough to have to accept there’s nothing that could ever even it up again.

Last time he felt like this, he’d got wasted at Yok’s and done some inadvisable kissing on a pier. 

One of those things at least is easy to repeat. 

***

The guy who broke Tem’s heart by having another boyfriend has now, somehow, broken his heart by not having another boyfriend anymore, so Jom and Tem are already at the bar when he gets there. Porsche had put on his broken-in jeans and scruffy converse and rolled up the sleeves of his worn-soft black t-shirt with relief, taken off the minor family ring with even more: it feels good, putting on his old self for the night. He doesn’t go so far as to get behind the bar, just lets Yok’s new guy practice cocktails on him with wide admiring eyes when Porsche gives him advice and pats Tem’s back and lets Jom’s increasingly drunk rants against this guy wash over him.

He’s missed his friends, he’s missed Yok, he’s missed the bar. It’s good to remember that life is going on, outside the suffocating luxury of the mafia houses that have been becoming his whole world. He’s brought bodyguards, Chase and Thaworn, two of the new guys, but they’re discreetly good at their jobs, sitting at the other end of the bar with glasses of water dressed up like gin and tonics, either pretending to or actually flirting; Porsche can’t exactly complain about people finding boyfriends on the job. He can almost forget they’re there.

Yok switches the music over to frenetic house around eleven and Porsche gets Tem and Jom up with him, dances until he’s sweaty and his head is pleasantly empty. He crashes back to the bar and the waiting mai tai, an improvement on the last one, and lets himself relax.

The main family bodyguards come in in uniform. Tankhun sails in behind them in a yellow lace bodysuit, and Kinn saunters in behind him in dark purple and black. 

Porsche catches Yok’s eye across the bar and she looks away from him, guilty.

“I wanted one fucking night,” he says sourly when Tankhun sits down next to him, crossing his legs.

“Do you think this is a social visit?” Tankhun says airily. Ball puts a glass of champagne in front of him and scarpers.

“Okay,” Porsche says. He drains his almost-full dark and stormy in three long gulps. “Where the fuck do you get off interfering with me and Chay, then?”

“Interfering with Chay and Kim, actually,” Tankhun says, watching Porsche drink with narrowed eyes. “Thank you for returning Arm. I was missing him terribly.”

“I’m sure he left me plenty of presents to remember him by,” Porsche says. He hasn’t swept the house on principle: he doesn’t care if the main family has him bugged, he’s not doing anything wrong. 

His drink is finished, and he’d like this conversation to be finished, as well. He kicks back his stoll and hops up over the bar, landing lightly behind it, into the place he was maybe once most at home. He trails his fingers over the arrayed bottles against the back wall, his fingertips getting sticky, picks vodka and turns back to his mai tai glass, pours a hefty shot in and tosses it back neat.

“Porsche?” Jom says, coming up to the bar and glancing at Tankhun, back to Porsche.

“I’m fine,” Porsche says, making his voice gentle. The Theerapanyakuls already got Chay: he needs Jom and Tem not to be any more aware of what his life is now than they are, he needs them to be able to be a break.

He doesn’t think about six corpses on the floor where he’s standing. 

Kinn comes up to the bar and Porsche has had too much to drink not to rake his gaze over him, hungry for the sight of him, his red mouth and eyes already alcohol-bright and his chest and throat exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. Porsche can’t help looking for the evidence of other men’s lips and teeth on him, jealousy flaring hot and red, but there aren’t any: Kinn had reassured him once, that Porsche was the only one he let leave marks.

“What do you want?” he says brusquely. “If this isn’t a social visit.”

Tankhun glances between them, his gaze more knowing than he’d ever looked before - <i>before</i>, and slips away to Pol.

“Start with a drink,” Kinn says. Porsche glares at him and tosses a bottle of whisky onto the bar in front of him, the cheapest one in the place. Kinn gives it, and him, a look, but he unscrews the lid anyway and pours into Porsche’s dirty glass.

“Well?” Porsche says brusquely. Fuck, it’s hard being here at Hum Bar with Kinn. So much of what they are to each other happened here: Porsche can’t help <I>feeling</I> when they’re together here. Their meeting, their first kiss, the sweetness of Kinn bringing him back here to promise a new start -

Arthee ambushing him here, showing him the photo of Porsche’s family and happy smiling Uncle Korn. 

Kinn inspects the bottle and sighs. “Give me a decent one, come on. I’ve had a complaint about you.”

Porsche switches out the rotgut for a respectable Johnnie Walker Black Label. “Tell them to fuck off. I don’t work for you.”

“<i>I know that</i>,” Kinn says and Porsche stops and looks at him, really looks at him, finds Kinn looking back, his expression raw, saying so clearly that Porsche is making his life hard, making it impossible for him to live his life. 

Porsche tips his head back, wishing for a cigarette, looks back down and starts making Kinn a drink. <i>Their</i> drink, their Porsche fixing Kinn a drink drink, an old fashioned made as nicely as Porsche can, with the nicest ingredients he can find, doubled up.

“Moo complained to you?” he says quietly. He preps two new glasses, drops a sugar cube into each and adds bitters, stirs it up with ice and goes looking for the really, really good whisky, the one Yok keeps behind hidden the bar for herself and in case King Vajiralongkorn happens to drop by.

“Are you all right?” Kinn says, quiet and intense, and Porsche melts as easily as the orange peel he’s heating gives up its sweetly-fragranced oil.

“I’m fine,” Porsche says, nudging Kinn’s cocktail to him and holding up his glass to clink, and Kinn does, but his gaze darkens with understanding and disappointment. Their biggest fight, until Korn had declared them cousins, Porsche finding out that Kinn had colluded with one of Porsche’s family’s tormentors to force him to take the job as Kinn’s bodyguard, and it hurts as much to turn away Kinn’s caring about it as it had hurt to find it out.

“Fine,” Kinn says, clipped, and Porsche tosses his drink back, careless of the care it had taken to make, as Kinn picks up his and turns to find his brother and their knot of bodyguards, circled around Tankhun wildly dancing, instead of joining in as they would’ve when it was Porsche bringing the bosses and bodyguards who had blurred the line between colleagues and friends.

“Fine,” Porsche mutters, and there’s some girl at the bar who’s never seen Porsche with a ring on his finger or a gun in his hand, someone who just wants a fucking drink, and Porsche summons up six months ago when his biggest problem was his uncle being beaten half to death and foreclosing on his dead parents’ house, slaps on his best flirtiest smile from that time, and says, “What are you having?”

~

He drinks a shot for every few drinks he makes, wishing like hell his skills had deteriorated enough that he can’t still bartend on autopilot, drinks spilling as easy from his hands as the patter spills from his mouth. 

He’s almost unbearably conscious of Kinn, the whole time. Yok’s isn’t explicitly a gay bar, but it’s open enough that people off all orientations find a welcome; and there’s a <i>reason</i> Porsche had wanted to find replacement bodyguards who weren’t young and hot and in peak physical condition; and any fucking pretty boy who walks in could have been ordered up off Kinn’s <i>fucking special phone</i> like Porsche asks the compound market’s food stalls to send him up something to eat when he’s working late.

Kinn doesn’t even look at him again. Porsche could be any bartender, anyone slinging drinks behind a bar that’s just low-class enough to be exciting for the Theerapanyakul heir to show up at, and probably that’s what makes him say, “I know,” when Yok sidles up to him, the way she used to, half-helpful and half-businesslike, to tell him a beautiful customer in a tight dress wants to meet him.

~

She kisses gently, her lips soft and her tongue shy, and it’s - <i>fuck</i>, it’s that last screw he’d tried to have with a girl all over again, same place same fucking inability not to think about Kinn; same nothing in his head but the way Kinn kisses him and touches him like he owns him, lets Porsche get out of his head and into his body and feeling nothing but pleasure. She’s sweet and eager, wanting a little safe danger with a hot bartender, and Porsche is so much more and so much less than that now, so much different, and -

A gunshot, cracking loud like into the air, and the girl screams, and Porsche lets her go, and -

A black-suited figure is grabbing her, Pol’s eyes big and scared meeting Porsche’s gaze as he pulls her out from between Porsche and the wall and hurries her out with his arm over her head like she’s the principal he’s taking care of, and -

<i>Kinn</i>. 

Smelling of booze and gunpowder and acrid fear-sweat, shoving Porsche against the wall from behind, his cock hard against Porsche’s arse, his hands bruise-tight on Porsche’s hips and his teeth possessive-sharp on Porsche’s throat, and Porsche moans and collapses against the wall and pushes back against him. 

Not to get away; to give in.

Kinn’s body against his the way he needs it, the way Porsche has needed him for weeks, and Porsche whines, unable to believe how high and desperate he sounds, scrabbling up so Kinn will grab his hands and slam them against the wall and twine their fingers, rutting up against him, so close nothing can separate them, arching his neck for Kinn’s tongue, for his teeth.

“Kinn,” he says, the only thing in his mind, the only thing on his lips before Kinn takes them, fuck, he wants Kinn to take them, to kiss him and fuck him and show him Porsche is -

“You’re mine,” Kinn grinds out, furious and hot, bites down again on Porsche’s neck, high, where it will show over his collared shirts. “Fucking - flirting like that in front of me, I’ll kill anyone who touches you,” and Porsche gasps and melts back into him, stuck between the wall and the uncompromising lean hardness of Kinn’s body, his voice, his cock. This possessiveness will ruin them, is already ruining Kinn, he can hear it in the way Kinn’s voice breaks, but Porsche loves it, he wants it so much, for Kinn to still need <i>him</i>, more than he could want anyone else. “Porsche, you hear me? I swear I will. Women, men. Anyone, anyone who comes <i>near</i> you, I’ll kill them -”

And Porsche breaks. He’s so lonely, and he’s so desperate, and he loves Kinn so much, and he says, “<i>Fuck me</i>” in a voice so pleading he doesn’t even know himself.

[risingphoenix761]

Got depressed because if I couldn't really recall doing anything with my year then I must have done nothing which is a bummer, I did in fact have a nice sandwich while I reassessed. For my own record keeping...

First off, what I DIDN'T do a ton of is write, which is what set off this year's biggest source of the sads. I don't know what's going on, if it's stress or burnout or what, but words weren't with me. I finished exactly two short pieces (read them here and here, if you're so inclined) for the Crowley bang at the beginning of the year, and not much else. I can say with certainty I haven't written this little in over a decade, and I'm not having a good time with that fact. Fretting about it or trying to force words out anyway is even less of a good time, so for now, I'm on shaky peace with the fact that until further notice, I'm on hiatus from writing.

What I HAVE done this year, is read. (Books, that is, since I've been neglecting my shelves for...a very long time.) Faves this year include American Gods and Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, and once I finish Trigger Warning and The Ocean At The End Of The Lane, I'm sure they'll be on next year's list. I also watched and rewatched The Sandman a bunch and finished Good Omens for the umpteenth time a couple weeks ago, so all in all, it's been the Year of Neil.

It's also semi-accidentally been the year I became a de facto Mike Flannigan enthusiast. I'm still pissed about Doctor Sleep (though I suppose that's more the fault of Stephen King, tbh), but after sitting through Midnight Mass, The Haunting Of Hill House, The Haunting Of Bly Manor, and Hush, and in fact two rewatches for that last one, I guess I'm a fan? He makes stuff I can have conversations about, which is one of my top five reasons for media consumption, so I'll forgive him my Danny Torrance trauma.

Which brings me around to the amount of movies I watched this year, which is Too Many. I've yet to hit my goal of watching every Stanley Kubrick movie, but I think I made up for it with various and sundry flicks:

Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Killer's Kiss

Se7en

Coraline

Child's Play

The Evil Dead

Evil Dead 2

Army of Darkness

A Nightmare On Elm Street

Hush

Saw

Hellraiser

The Witch

The Lost Boys

Texas Chain Saw Massacre

The Wicker Man ('73)

Nightmare On Elm Street 2

Carrie ('76)

The Exorcist

Nightmare On Elm Street 3

Nightmare On Elm Street 4

Nightmare On Elm Street 5

Hellraiser 2

Freddy's Dead

New Nightmare

The Black Phone

Nightmare On Elm Street (2010)

Guillermo Del Toro's Pinocchio

Freddy vs Jason

I'm giving myself bonus points for also squeezing in Ash Vs Evil Dead. Included in the above are a couple rewatches, not included are any series--see prior Flannigan paragraph--or repeated viewings of any titles on the list (or The Shining 😂).

Ask my opinions! I have plenty! And I'm probably going to research some horror studies courses as a result of all this, because yeah, this shit is up my alley!

And finally, the only thing I've done more than stare at a screen: leveling up my yarn skills. I picked up two knitting techniques and a handful of crochet stitches over the course of *drum roll* two hats, two sweaters, three scarves, four pairs of gloves, a purse, and a whole ass COAT. Yeah, I made a coat this year, and it's pretty rad. It's also pretty red, because I'm nothing if not consistent.

I've also got about three hundred new photos on my camera to prove my photography is getting better, too. 😎

*is sufficiently cheered up*

Thought about making an end of the year post, then realized I'm having excessive trouble remembering this year. This calls for contemplation. Possibly crying. And a nice sandwich.

[frankiekatt]

Hi! Can I request some domestic and fluffy headcanons for Thomas Hewitt with a significant other?

Thanks in advance, lots of love 😘

Yes of course! Thomas is the love of my life, I adore him!

TW: Implied murder, (1) mention of gore, implied NSFW

Domestic And Fluffy Headcanons For Thomas Hewitt And His S/O:

Thomas craves fluffiness and domesticity , let me tell you

Thomas has spent his entire youth being bullied and ridiculed, never having any type of companionship. Even as he got older he has always been under Hoyt’s control, feeling like he never gets to make his own decisions. So when he finally has someone who will care for him and listen to him and love him, he is over the moon!

When Thomas wakes up beside you in the morning he is always in awe of you - you look so peaceful and serene and he still cannot believe that he has someone like you to love and who loves him.

He tries his very best to get out of bed without waking you but Tommy is a big boy so he almost always fails.

He feels so bad every time he wakes you up that he lurches forward to pat you on the shoulders as an apology.

This always makes you giggle though, because how could you be mad at such a sweet boy?

Once you are up and about after Thomas’ slip up, you both get ready for the day together. Thomas tries not to look at you while you’re getting dressed because he doesn’t want to be disrespectful, but sometimes you turn around and catch him looking away from you with a slight blush in his cheeks.

Breakfast is always a rushed occasion because everyone needs to get started on chores as soon as possible, but you and Tommy spend what little time you have in the mornings holding hands underneath the breakfast table while the both of you scramble to finish your fruit.

You don’t see too much of Thomas during the main part of the day because he’s busy down in the basement and you’re busy either in the kitchen or the garden, but you do make it a point to make Tommy a sandwich and some tea for lunch and bring it down to him while he’s working.

Thomas is always very grateful and excited when you do this. He doesn’t like to have you in the basement around all the gore and grime, but seeing you again after so many hours, being so kind as to make him food, he can’t help but be delighted at your presence.

Towards the end of the day, when everyone’s chores are completed, you and Thomas have some time to spend together before dinner is ready.

One of Thomas’ favorite pastimes is to go sit outside with you just as the sun is setting and watch the fireflies light up all around the house while you sit next to him.

He’ll excitedly point out each firefly that lights up just to be sure that you don’t miss it!

These moments often lead to soft kisses and sweet hand holds on the front porch while the sky is painted in pinks and oranges, which makes it extra romantic.

Sometimes though, Thomas likes to go to your shared bedroom to lay down for a bit before supper.

He loves for you to lay down next to him and assume the role of the big spoon while stroking the back of his head because this sweet boy loves to be taken care of.

Sometimes these little half naps can lead to something more intimate. Thomas loves when you kiss down his body, soon reaching the top button of his trousers, where you palm him gently. This heavy petting and wet kisses makes his heart rate go up and his breathing ragged before Luda Mae is calling you down to help set the table.

You groan and place a chaste kiss to Tommy’s cheek before heading down stairs.

As Monty, Hoyt, and Thomas all enter the kitchen to eat dinner together, Thomas admires how domestic you look preparing the table for them. He just thinks you look so cute doing house-wife type things!

The rest of the family never notices how you actively avoid eating the meat of the meal, sticking to the vegetables and side dishes. Thomas notices though. Thomas notices every little thing about you, and this particular thing always makes him feel guilty. He knows this isn’t exactly the life you envisioned for yourself - living in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of murderers who eat other people to survive. Sometimes, Thomas half expects to wake up to see you’ve left him to make a better life for yourself.

He doesn’t think he deserves you, not one bit. He views himself as a big, ugly monster and he can never understand why a beautiful angel such as yourself could ever want to be with him.

You notice him looking down at his hands, recognizing the look of self hatred on his face before letting your hand fall down to his knee and squeezing assuringly. You know Thomas feels this way and you hate it. You fell in love with Thomas wholeheartedly and you adore everything about him. He has always been so kind and gentle and loving and giving. Why can’t he see himself the way you see him?

‘I love you,’ you mouth to him as he looks up at you. He lets his big hands rest atop yours and nods sofly. A silent ‘I love you too,’

Once everyone finishes dinner, you and Thomas head up to bed. After a full day of chores and a large dinner, the two of you are spent.

Bedtime for the two of you is always soft and pillowy. The house is dark and quiet and the only people in your little world are yourself and the man you love.

Thomas falls asleep pretty quickly, whereas it takes a bit for you to slumber.

You always lay on Thomas’ chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away, listening to his even breathing.

No, this is not the life you dreamed of when you were younger. It is so much better than any dream or expectation you might have previously had because laying in the arms of the man who owns your heart every night is more than you could ever ask for.

[f1nalboys]

Sunsets - Thomas Hewitt x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1019

WARNINGS: disgusting fluff. thomas is a sweetheart who i love

Thomas was great at sewing. It was something you had come to notice and love with each passing day. While his skin masks weren’t your favorite thing, you’d be lying if you said they weren’t done well. Thomas took his time with the masks, sometimes taking days to finish one, and each one came out better than the last.

With hands as large as his, and with his primary job being the person to butcher bodies, you wouldn’t have expected him to be able to do something as tedious and small as sewing but here you are. You were sitting in the chair next to the window of the room you had convinced Luda Mae to make his sewing room, somewhere he could do less bloody projects. He was sitting at his desk, hunched over, working on a project that’s held his attention for the last few days.

He lets out a grunt and you know he’s just stabbed his finger accidently. You crane your neck in a weak attempt to see what he was working on but he had it positioned so unless you were standing right next to him you wouldn’t be able to see it. Sighing, you lean back in the chair and stare out the window. It had been a pretty easy going day and both you and Thomas had finished your chores early. 

Luda Mae, ever the saint, had let you and Thomas have the rest of the day off and had even scolded Hoyt for complaining. It seemed she thought you and Thomas deserved a break. A creak catches your attention and you turn towards Thomas as he stands from his desk. He turns towards you, his hands behind his back, holding whatever it was he had been working on.

“You finished it?” You ask as he walks towards you and he nods. You grin up at him; he wasn’t wearing his mask. It had taken a lot of coaxing and compliments for him to do so in front of you, but he had it off more often than not and it meant so much to you. “Can I see it?”

“Maybe,” He says, his voice hoarse. He had begun to talk more, though you knew it hurt his throat a bit too much to replace his signing. He gives you a teasing smile and you scrunch your face up. 

He wanted to ask very, very, very nicely. “Please, Thomas?” You beg, dragging out your please. He laughs and nods. You scoot to the edge of your seat and bounce your leg in anticipation. A shy smile spreads across his face and his hands come to the front of him and you gasp at the item in his hands.

A scrap of fabric, which just so happened to be your favorite color, with an intricate sunset sewn into it. Different shades of red, orange, pink, purple, and blue weaved together and you couldn’t even tell where a stitch began or ended. It was perfect. “Thomas, this is amazing! You did this for me?”

“Yes. When we kissed,” He says, letting you hold the fabric. He looks to the ground, his large fingers playing with a loose thread on his shirt. You can feel tears prick at your eyes. The first time you kissed Thomas it was on the porch in summer. You were out with a cold glass of lemonade sitting on the swinging seat watching the sun sink below the horizon. The sky was ablaze in color and Thomas had signed something about how pretty it was and you kissed him. It didn’t last long because Hoyt came out and wolf-whistled at you two which embarrassed Thomas just enough to go back inside. He came out a few moments later and kissed you again, gently, before rushing back in.

It was such a long time ago you had almost forgotten the rush of emotions you had felt in that moment. But this embroidered piece? It brought them all back to the surface. “What’s wrong?” Thomas asks, his hand coming to your cheek to brush off the hot tears with his thumb. You lean into his touch, your eyes staying on the sunset. 

“Nothing. It’s just… this is so thoughtful, Tommy. I love it. So much.” He grins and you can just barely make out the blush spreading across his cheeks. You stand up, standing on your tippy toes to give him a kiss and pulling him in for a hug. He hums, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Aw, well look at you two,” You and Thomas break apart at Luda Mae’s voice. She was standing in the doorway, her hands clasped together and a big smile. Thomas rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment; no matter how many times she caught the two of you in a lovey-dovey, tooth-rotting sweet moment, it still got him all clammed up. “Well, dinner’s all done. Hoyt helped me set up. Come on and eat when you two are ready; fair warning, the boys are already stuffing their faces.”

She sends a wink your way and turns on her heel, walking down the hallway. Thomas pulls you back in for a hug and squeezes you tightly. “Really liked it?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper. You grin, squeezing him back just as tightly. 

“Really. C’mon, let’s go eat before Monty and Hoyt take it all,” He laughs, letting you go and grabbing your hand in his. He leads you out of the room and down the hall before you stop him for just a second outside the dining room. “Do you think you could sew this onto a shirt of mine? I wanna be able to wear it around.”

He grins and nods, kissing the top of your head, ushering you into the room. You grin as he pulls your chair out for you, ignoring the teasing words of Monty. Thomas was the best thing that has ever happened to you. 

That night, when you and Thomas crawled into bed together and snuggled up, you dream of sunsets and lemonade.

[randowriters]

A Gift

D&F: Here's the final fic out of the four fics finished! More will come in the future! Just have to focus on the other fics on Ao3 for now!

They have been dating for a long time now, and things are great between the two animatronics. The two spent time together, made songs together, and even shared a kiss. Yet, it was always Freddy who had to do a lot within the relationship. Freddy was the one who brought the games that they played, the gifts that DJ kept, and made the effort to come visit.

The music man…couldn’t do most of those things.

The games he could suggest either required the assistance of the S.T.A.F.F. Bots or were simple enough that they could be played by children. His gifts to the glamrock were songs that, while they always came from the heart, sometimes didn’t feel like they were enough. However, the one thing that bothered the disc jockey the most was that he couldn’t visit Freddy.

The portions of the pizzaplex were too small for the giant animatronic. Which further limits his existence to his attraction. Rockstar Row was not built to let in a two-story animatronic, nor did it have the entrance for one to squeeze into. DJ hated it, it felt like his size did nothing more but hinder himself and everyone around him.

Including Freddy.

He ponders on the problem. What can the spider animatronic do? How can he properly show the robotic bear his affections? DJ sighs, lazily lying on his stage as he browses through his private collection. Pictures of Freddy posing for the music man, some genuine poses while others are rather silly for fun. A smirk crosses the disc jockey’s face. Being with the glamrock leader always led to learning something new about him. Yes, Freddy can be kind and helpful, but he can also be funny. Heck, there were times when the lead singer got a little mischievous with DJ despite how much of a boy scout he can be.

The animatronic giant stops on one image of the orange glamrock. In it, he displays the brightest smile the music man has ever seen on the animatronic while holding a poster in hand. That was during the time a field trip was occurring in the nearby observatory and the company offered to let the class enjoy some fun at Fazer Blast for a discount. Freddy was so excited; he went on and on for days about being able to hear some of the lectures about the planets from an actual astronomer that accompanied the class. It was a wonderful…time. DJ’s face lit up.

===========

Freddy sighs as he finally arrives at Fazcade. Band practice ended up being a lot longer than usual due to the new choreography confusing them. Chica and Monty found themselves bumping into each other, while the animatronic bear and Roxy ended up in each other’s spaces every time. It was clear that overtime will hit them in future practices as the company RARELY, if ever, reschedule or delay a stage performance.

Once he sees the giant animatronic waving at him, the stress withers away. “I am so sorry I am late.” Freddy gives the robotic spider a tired smile, “Practice did not go so well today, so we will be very busy for the rest of the week.” He honestly wishes that wasn’t the case, because it meant that the lead singer will see less of DJ during the remainder of said week. Still, it is his duty to bring smiles and excitement in the hearts of those who come to the pizzaplex, and that is something that the robotic bear values deeply. The music man grins, “Then it’s a good thing you’re here now!” The disc jockey lays down as he extends his gloved hand to the smaller animatronic. “Get on, I want to show you something!” He instructed. The glamrock leader blinks. “Alright.” He said as climbs onto the hand.

DJ boosts the glamrock up, allowing the bear animatronic to get on his back. “So, what is it that you wish to show me?” Freddy asked. “It’s inside of the tunnel.” answers the allusive music man. The orange glamrock is even more confused. “Inside the…tunnel?” He repeated. What could possibly be within the tunnel that the spider animatronic wants him to see? DJ glances at him, “Yep, hold on my sweet Melody Bear.” The robotic bear blushes profusely at hearing his nickname, earning a warm chuckle from the animatronic giant as they went inside.

============

The tunnels are surprisingly dark the further they venture. Even when there is still light from the entrance, the darkness is all encompassing. Now that Freddy thinks about it, this is his first time being in the tunnels. As the built-in highlights turn on, his eyes examine the enclosed surroundings. Everything feels so…new, like he is journeying to an unknown area of the megaplex. No, this is part of DJ’s world, one that only he alone has access to. The glamrock leader looks up and notices something on the ceiling. It’s small, yet it glitters despite the illuminating highlights that dampens the dark. Then another one catches his attention.

…And another…and another…

Together, the little lights formed a shape that is all too familiar to the bear animatronic. “Is that…” His eyes widened, “The Big Dipper?!” He isn’t seeing things, that is actually THE Big Dipper! The robotic bear had to hold himself back from standing up and attempting to touch them. Hearing the thrill from Freddy’s voice causes DJ to smile, “Oh, I see you noticed.”  “And there! The little Dipper!” The lead singer points to another glittering formation on the ceiling. The disc jockey paused. With his eyes, he gestures to the one little light that is a different color than those present around it. “That’s Polaris, or what is commonly known as?” He glanced at the fascinated Freddy. “The North Star…” utters the orange glamrock. Constellations, visible constellations hovering above them with the shine that the darkness itself could not fully engulf. The glamrock bear gazes down at DJ, “How?!” The music man grins.

“We’re just getting started.”

Deeper into the tunnels introduced more constellations as they continued: Ursa Minor the Little Bear, Virgo the Maiden, Summer Triangle, Cygnus the Swan, Aquila the Eagle, and Lyra the Harp to name a few. So many different star alignments all decorate the ceilings and upper walls as the two animatronics travel. They arrive at the center point of the tunnel ways; all entrances to the various tunnels connect. Though, what greets them is not just more constellations, but a whole diagram of the solar system. All of the known eight planets, plus Pluto, sparkle as they orbit around a bright sun. “I cannot believe this…” Freddy muttered, covering his mouth.

“I had some help from the S.T.A.F.F. Bots, and Sun and Moon, to get this all made for you…as a gift.” DJ reveals, “Sorry about this part being so cluttered, I wanted them to surround the image of our solar system…but we kinda ran out of space.” The glitter on the planets was done by Sun with the very glitter glue used to glue them up on the ceiling. The stars are glow-in-the-dark stickers, leftover from an employee’s mistake in ordering too many in shipment, which were borrowed by the worker bots to create this spectacle. Moon used his acrobatic skills to put them all together. The disc jockey aided them in every way he could, from giving them a boost, carrying the materials, to instructing them on how it should be structured. All of this…just for the glamrock bear.

Freddy is speechless, he never would have dreamt to be given something like this. DJ gave him a replica of space. One that can only be found within the confines of the pizzaplex. “This is so beautiful!” He hugs the back of the spider animatronic’s head, “Thank you! Thank you, I love it!” Heat rises in the music man’s cheeks. He closes his eyes to bask in the feeling of the embrace, “I’m glad.” As long as the smaller animatronic enjoys the gift, the robotic spider is happy. 

“Although, there is one thing that is missing.”

The animatronic giant’s eyes shot open. “There is?!” He frantically looks at each of the hand-made constellations, “W-which one?! I thought I got them all-” DJ suddenly felt a small peck behind his head. He froze. “My dear Titan, you have forgotten yourself.” Freddy tenderly rubs the back of the disc jockey’s head, “I appreciate this wondrous gift, just as much as I appreciate you.” A warm smile appears as he leans against the music man. There are so many things the glamrock bear wishes he could say, to describe just how deeply DJ means to him. The gift, the love, everything that the robotic spider gives the bear animatronic is beyond anything anyone has ever given in an entire lifetime. Yet, the words that float in his mind were never enough to represent the feelings deep in his battery core. So…he settled for three simple ones.

“I love you.” Freddy spoke.

DJ’s eyes grew, before they softened. All of the robotic bear’s emotions…they resonate inside of the giant animatronic from those words alone. He couldn’t help but beam as he replied, “And I love you.” Together, they look up at the ceiling and gaze at the stars and planets around them.