#those first two are rather amusing to me when you put them side by side like that

[belovedivies]

Gurl imagine, just imagine a rejuvenated peter with his three ducklings, bumping into raphael's older sibling how would that go?

a/n: THREE DUCKLINGS LMAO- i had too much fun writing this piece. this should have came out on a while back but uni whipped my ass rip- anw, enjoy!! cw: minor spoiler, minor character death, they have fun clowning around and absolutely nothing bad happened. wc: 3.6k m.list

offshore ft. multi

The sky above is pitch black by the time Soongu leaves his dorm and heads to their promised spot. He goes for a casual look that evening: gray hoodie, black pants, a pair of Sketcher that soon gathers dust on the outsole when the guy navigates his way through the city’s park, dry leaves crunching with every step. 

His long legs eat up the distance rather quickly, and there isn’t much until a right turn at the local pub leads Soongu down a dimly lit alley. The streetlights on both sides flicker; it’s a beautiful moonless night. He isn’t on his way to another meeting, not really. There’s a certain ease in his movement, fingers drumming slightly against the lining fabric where he digs his hands into his pockets. Soongu feels lighter, easier to breathe somehow. When he crosses by a traffic mirror attached to a rusty-looking post, a young man stares right back at him. He can almost pretend he’s just another boy; no debt of blood and death marring his youthful features.

The exterior of the convenience store looks tame, but his comrades are already there: lazing around on a long bench that overlooks an empty parking lot through a fairly new chain-link fence. They remind him of a bunch of high schoolers. People with obligations rarely extend outside of the established social circles. It’s Simon who sneaks up to him first, wrapping an arm around the boy’s neck with a cocky smirk.

“Sheesh, took you long enough brother. ” His voice booms against Soongu’s ears like bus tires. “We’re about to ditch your ass.”

“As if,” Soongu replies in faux-annoyance, though there’s no denying how his lips curl up into an amused smile. The years have taken a toll on his old pal, but it’s still Simon at the end of the day and no one else. Lost an arm, chipped a tooth, but still ever the loudmouth who fought with him through life and death during their time as Apostles.

One meter away, Jiwon—the woman of their little team—crosses her legs with a wistful look while Alexander McKing rests his head on her thighs, basking in the little head scratches his owner delivers every few seconds. Simon might have always been the boisterous one, but Soongu was surprised to learn that the hangout today was actually her idea. For someone who constantly fusses and loses her cool over the smallest of mistakes that might give away his true identity, trading her usual gold-plated sanctuary for some simple bonding time on a Friday night is a bit… questionable, if not to say downright odd. 

“Jiwon~” Simon sing-songs, still keeping his arm looped around the boy’s neck as his old pal drags him towards the bench. “Bo— I mean Soongu is here, what are the plans?”

“Shut your goofy ass up.” Ah, there is she. Their blind grumpy old mom. Jiwon uncrosses her legs with an irritated face, brows drawn together behind her near-transparent glasses. “I’m trying to remember the name of that BBQ.”

Simon’s face falls at the insult like a child just got robbed of his favorite toy. Soongu lets out a quiet chuckle this time, and it isn’t long until the two of them jump at each other’s throats for another round of bickering. But tonight isn’t about just that. They are here to hang out, as Jiwon has put it—

(—wasted out of her mind halfway past a bottle of Château Margaux. She lamented through the phone about the horrible hangover she had in the morning, yet somehow the suggestion remained.) 

“You wounded me!” The gray-haired swordsman exclaims. He’s feigning hurt obviously, but it’s those next words that manage to get on Jiwon’s nerves. “Didn’t you remember how you used to hang around little ol’ me and fawn like a pup—ow ow!”

“I. Was. Young. And. I. Was. Stupid!” With each syllable, her hand strikes down Simon’s back in a poor attempt to chastise her jerk of a comrade. “I’d never date you in a million years, not even Peter—“

Soongu cocks an eyebrow at the mention of his infamous codename. Jiwon clamps a hand over her mouth as the realization of what just slipped out hits her. Peter. It would have been fine to mention it if all of them were lazing around in her fancy lair with ice whiskeys on the stainless marble countertop, but here they were out in the open. Not to mention the mutual agreement to only refer to Soongu as… well, Soongu.

“Shit, my bad.” She gulps, a drop of sweat rolling down her forehead. The dog continues to curl up and snuggle her lap.

“Careless, aren’t cha?” Taking the chance to tease, Simon bends his knees and flashes Jiwon a toothy grin that she luckily can’t see, but pisses her off enough to the point her jaws clench, ready to wipe it off his stupid face with another punch.

“You little—”

“Alright, break it up.” As fun as it is to watch the shenanigans carry on, that brief mention of his name reminds the boy to interfere in the little fight. He puts his hands on either of his friends’ foreheads, creating some distance lest they decide to headbutt each other into concussion. “You’re forgetting someone.”

Kageo tenses up ever so slightly in Soongu’s peripheral vision, not used to being the center of attention now that the spotlight is suddenly on him. In his white T-shirt and 6’7 frame, their new companion still ominously blends into the background and contents himself watching every interaction. Old habits die hard, Soongu supposes. Back then those shoulders were unshackled by the weight of hatred and revenge, Kageo was but a shadow standing behind Yuika, serving the girl with all his might. Now with the corpse of his first love rotting on the seabed alongside what’s left of their ship, Kageo is forced to be who he thought he has never been before.

Someone who actually matters.

“I’m fine with whatever you suggest.”

It takes a while for a response to come. Humble and demure, typical for the guy. Soongu can’t blame him; it’s hella awkward for four of them to just stand here and do nothing but stare at each other. 

Simon, unsurprisingly, is the one to break the silence. Taking a step forward, the old man pats Kageo on the back. A classic bro move to let him know there’s no hostility between them anymore. 

“C’mon kiddo,” he clicks his tongue playfully. Simon talks to Kageo like an uncle does his nephew, and Soongu can’t help but wonder if it’s a direct result of months of being an undercover guard at that local grade school, “we’re gonna let loose just this one night. Show a little more enthusiasm, will ya?”

The boy in question tenses up, clearly not used to the casual skinship between friends. Then again, he has only ever been with Yuika, and even then there wasn’t really a time for them to “hang out” between the constant killing and running from authority.

Kageo ducks his head with a loud “Y-Yes, Uncle! I’ll try!” that makes Simon’s smile grow impossibly wider around the edge. Almost hard to believe that the swordsman himself was seconds away from slashing the younger boy’s hand back then. Truly the development of all time.

The atmosphere seems to ease up a bit with that interaction out of the way. While the two of them are busy in their bubble, Soongu turns his attention to Jiwon—who somehow chose to stay quiet throughout the past few minutes. It isn’t very much like her, so he takes his spot on the bench next to the woman.

“Are we going in?” He looks over to his comrade, obviously referring to the store next to them.

“Yeah,” Jiwon hums with a smile, sounding happier than what Soongu usually hears from her. The German Shepherd hops off her lap, instead running up to nuzzle against his legs, which the boy happily rewards the dog with more head scratches.

—

This 7-11 smells… nice. Just the usual cleaning chemicals and lavender spray, but still nice. Anything is better than that funky smell of burnt cheese and melted slurpees.

Soongu hasn’t been to that much to draw the conclusion, honestly. Even back then, all he did as a young and invincible Peter was going on missions from one country to another. Between the seemingly endless list of targets to take down and people to protect, his meals only ever consisted of instant noodles and takeouts. Sitting down at a restaurant to enjoy the food was rare, going to a convenience store for it was even rarer. As an Apostle, the boy doesn’t want to risk a mass shooting that would harm innocent citizens. But as a now just-another-D-rank-Glory-killer…

“Danbi!” 

His mom-comrade calls out an unfamiliar name before rushing past him to reach someone. He turns around to see a girl, the store’s logo plastered on her red apron as well as a beverage-filled box in her hands. Interestingly, she doesn’t end up toppling over despite how quickly the woman sprints in her direction to pull this Danbi into a bone-crushing embrace. 

“You brat—” Jiwon grits her teeth, squishing the younger girl’s cheeks together like Play-Doh. Soongu can’t help but wince just by watching the interaction; she really loved to pull this move back when he first revealed his rejuvenated self, “—where the hell were you?! I called you ten times and you didn’t even answer!”

Her aggressive yelling manages to get the other two’s attention, who up until now were eyeing neatly arranged lines of alcoholic drinks inside a freezer at the back of the store. Kageo gives Simon a mild questioning look when they draw closer to the source of drama, an expression that the old swordsman mirrors. Now it just seems like all three of them are at a loss for this new girl’s identity.

“Ow, ow— unnie!” Danbi squeals like an injured animal. With her hands already occupied, she’s helpless against the onslaught of Jiwon’s pinching. “You’re so mean! You know I can’t use my phone during my shift.”

The blind woman clicks her tongue, unimpressed. “I texted 30 minutes ago too, and you left me on read!”

If she plans to guilt her, it works. Danbi deflates with a sigh. Just before she can say anything else, however, Simon chimes in with a question they’re all dying to know.

“Um… who are you, Missy?”

Danbi’s eyes snap open at the unexpected inquiry. She looks like she doesn’t realize they are right there. Soongu notes how her gaze travels from Kageo’s neutral face to Simon’s amputated arm and then—

—to Soongu himself.

She lingers on him for longer too. Three seconds too long, he counts, with just her blank, doll-eyed stare boring holes directly into his skull.

But then the girl shrivels up, bowing until the box in her hands sweeps the ground, bottles of fizzy drink inside clicking together when she says, “I’m Ahn Danbi, nice to meet you!” then proceeds to straighten up her back with a smile so bright it immediately makes Soongu second guess his decision, but to what?

…to what?

Jiwon grins, the joy evident in her voice. Her affection is softer this time as she returns to wrapping her arms around Danbi’s shoulders. 

“Danbi, these idiots are under my care. Idiots, Danbi here is my cousin—“ Alexander walks up and nuzzles its face against said girl’s legs, “—and protégé, too.

Simon looks shocked by the reveal. “We never knew you had one!”

“Now you do~”

The old man just rolls his eyes before turning to the girl, a big smile on his face as he introduces himself. “Nice to meet ya too, kiddo! I’m Simon.”   

“Hello~” Danbi, still holding onto the box, manages to shift its weight into one hand while squeezing out of her cousin’s embrace just enough to catch a handshake, “Unnie told me a lot about you!”

Uh oh, that scratches a spot. Soongu watches as Simon’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree before his old pal makes a smug face.

“Oh, did she?” The guy pretends to his stubble thoughtfully, though not without the smirk still plastered on his face. “I hope she didn’t blast your poor ears off talking ‘bout me. You know how obsessed she is—”

Jiwon does end up punching him in the face this time. 

—

“So you drain the noodles with these right here…”

Danbi gestures to the tiny dots at the edge of the sealing lid. Using the tip of a wooden chopstick, she pokes three holes before lifting the cup noodle up and tipping it forward so the water can escape through the small space. Above her, Kageo looks strangely out of place as he towers over and watches with hawk-like attention. 

“Here you go!” The girl turns back to him, presenting the now soft instant ramen inside. “Now you just need to add the seasoning.”

Kageo tilts his head. He’s more of a lost child than the unfeeling giant Soongu saw on the Ghost Cruise weeks back, void of Yuika’s cunning giggles or million-dollar chandeliers that render him stationary in the golden lights. When she drowned, a part of him no doubt went down along. But here, there’s a small yet still-there glow in those inky eyes when his friend takes the cup, voice filled with curiosity.

“There’s no water?”

“I saved a bit for easy mixing. Other than that,” Jiwon’s cousin gives him a kind smile. Despite the less-than-ideal introduction to their little team, she seems to have no trouble breaking the ice, “this is a type of 'stir-fried’ dry noodle. You picked Buldak Cream Carbonara, which is usually prepared with just the sauce and powder.”

A small hum leaves Kageo’s throat as he takes in the new piece of information. He then gets to work, finishing the rest of the preparation by mixing two said packets together. The fusion of butter and cheese gives Soongu’s nose a funny tingle, though he isn’t that hungry yet to ask for a bite.

Kageo looks quite amazed at his handiwork, watching as the ramen turns from platinum blonde to a shade of amber—coating in the Buldak sauce and cream powder. Unable to resist, the boy digs in. The flavors left an instant impression on his taste buds, and Kageo’s eyes widened almost comically.

“This is amazing!” 

Danbi beams at the heartfelt praise, even if it isn’t directed at her. “I’m glad! This brand is popular worldwide. Let me know if you need anything else!”

The conversation ends on a comfortable note, with Kageo giving her a quick thank you before heading out to join Jiwon and Simon on the tables outside, whose heads are probably buried in another meaningless argument. Danbi, all smiles and relaxed shoulders, turns back to arranging the drinks into the freezer. She doesn’t seem to mind the silence that follows, nor the fact that Soongu is still here, leaning against the wall a few steps away. She doesn’t even spare him a glance. 

And he isn’t paranoid, definitely not—anyone and anything he’s wary of always turns out to be a threat in the end. Soongu just can’t let loose; he doesn’t know how to. The cool tiles tickle the Apostle’s scalp, his ears buzzing with soft mechanical hums from the AC running above. It’s awfully bright in here, and the more he looks, the more spots and afterimages blind his vision.

Fuck, he needs some nicotine to think. 

And a beer. 

Nicotine and beer.

Soongu fishes into his pants pockets for a nonexistent cigarette, his chest rumbling with a quiet groan. Of course it isn’t there; he barely smoked this month. He sees Danbi in the corner of his eyes, hands on her lap while she sits on her haunches. She stares at him unblinkingly like he’s strange. Like he’s not a real person. And maybe that’s all he needs. Maybe Soongu doesn’t want to drag the painful interaction out longer than a few surface-level exchanges. 

Maybe he’s just that pent-up.

But Danbi smiles again with a glow of satisfaction. She gets up and makes her way towards him, spreading her palms out to reveal a pack of Zest like she’s treating Halloween’s candies to the neighbor’s kids. 

“Last one in stock.” The girl goes on like nothing happened; the same customer service smile with a small hint of sugary emptiness. “Enjoy.”

And Soongu doesn’t know how to feel. He’s very much skeptical, some part impressed, yet not at all touched by the deceitfully thoughtful gesture. There’s a stark difference in how Danbi hugs Jiwon back, shakes Simon’s hand, and guides Kageo through a simple routine versus the stench of death she has been subtly reeking from every small pore on her body.

“And,” the corner of Soongu’s lips curl up into a smirk. It takes two to tango, “how exactly would you know?”

Danbi lets out a small sigh, tilting her head slightly to the side with her arms crossed. A wistful look graces her face, and only there does he finally pick up the first glimpse of blood relation between her and his blind comrade. 

“That was all the guys in Glory ever bought when they crashed.” The way she sounds it out genuinely feels like a complaint. “Lo Crux isn’t out of the equation, but that’s for older men.” 

What a theory. Soongu’s fingers graze one edge of the pack. The sticker and thin wrapper are already peeled, though the whole thing inside remains untouched. 

“Why not?” He quips. “Can’t a young man enjoy his cigar?”

“Not really...”

Danbi giggles, leaning closer.

“Unless you’re Peter.”

Soongu froze, his spine growing cold just as the tiles behind him.

But she provides an easy out, clasping her hands together with a sheepish smile. “Welp, that’s just me though! Everybody has their own preference.”

She places the empty box on the ground aside, leaving him to comprehend her words. And that’s it. The girl crouches down and grabs a few cans of beer when she opens the freezer door with one hand, balancing the drinks in the other. Danbi looks at him with a cheerfulness that is hard-wired into her facial muscles, just the right amount of casual insanity to keep the Apostle guessing.

“Give these to her, ok?” She nags him in an easygoing voice, passing them after she dumps the cans into a 7-11 plastic bag. And Soongu takes it. It’s mainly for Jiwon, but they are all likely to share everything later. One look inside reveals more and more boozes, some brands he vaguely recalls to be his friend’s favorites two decades ago before she trades them for high-end goods.

Eating at a well-known local BBQ and hitting a karaoke booth until morning are their ultimate goal for tonight. He’s sure swinging by here has just been an added bonus for Jiwon to see her sibling and grab beers on the way. Soongu stops humoring Danbi’s mind games for a while, opting to let his gaze trail naturally along the see-through glasses that wall this place with the world outside.

 The moving smudges of brown, gray, and white in the distance are his friends. Comrades. And he appreciates them. He really does. There’s always more to their bond than that of people who share a mutual goal to take down Glory—there’s a common ground too. A dynamic he finds himself growing comfortable with. They knew who he really was, and Soongu thinks it’s nice: he doesn’t have to put up a mask like he does around Yuna and the Doggo brothers. Around them, he can just simply be him.

A dysfunctional family, but still a family nonetheless.

Danbi watches in his peripheral vision, a curious look etched on her face. When the Apostle pulls up to the counter to check out, she waves her hands dismissively with a smile; Jiwon slipped her something much more valuable under the table.

—

You click the door shut behind you, staring up at the ceiling.

They gang up, and you can mostly get behind that logic. 

Kageo is little more than emotionally driven at the moment, but there is plenty of room to grow once the pain mellows out. Simon, too. Goofy and unserious as he is, the man was Peter’s best student back in their days. Even if Jiwon is no match for Johan and his god-like echolocation, she’s still a formidable opponent on her own. Overall a team… a strong one. If they can make it work, they’re bound to be an eyesore for Glory in the long run. 

Then why the hell is he there?

That guy is undoubtedly Kim Soongu, the face you saw digging through the pile of documents one night after Nathaniel’s comment about a certain newbie piqued your interest—you weren’t impressed with what you found. Average stats, average height, no remarkable features. What potential was there to tap into?

Washing down the budding bit of annoyance with a huff, you lean against the hollow metal surface of the door.

“Danbi, is there really no cigarette left?~”

No answer.

“Oh.”

You let out a soft chuckle. 

A few footsteps forward, Danbi’s body rots away near the entrance leading to the store’s dumpster area. She was like that when you first found her—on her stomach with cheeks caked in a thin layer of mud and rainwater. She’s neither moving nor breathing—her skin grows cold and her muscles become stiff. Even then, Jiwon hadn’t been able to pick up the telltale signs of strangeness and death in your movement—letting her guard down around the ones she called family. 

“Huh,” you nudge her corpse with one foot, just enough to get her lifeless eyes to meet yours. “a seizure it is. That surgery sure fucked you up.”

Well, not that’s any of your business!

She’s dead, the security camera is down, 7-11 is empty, and you have a new bedtime story to tell Raphael tonight. Leaving through the door in the back, you bid Danbi farewell with a smile.

Her body is found in the morning.

[chickenlizard13]

Let Me See

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 4742

Warnings: Fluff, Mature 18+ (get outta here you kids)

Description: I’m really just doing whatever I want at this point. Can be read as a sequel to All You’ve Done, but can also be read as a standalone. Prequel to Stay Right Here.

Holding the box in your lap, you bounce your knees impatiently, awaiting Ominis’s return. You sat on the couch, fearing he’d take the gift as an insult, rather than the assistance it was meant to be. 

Grabbing your journal from the side table, you read the incantation again, and again, and again, knowing it by heart but still afraid you’d make a mistake. It was getting late, a heavy rainstorm obscuring the front gate of the property, making you all the more anxious. Ominis was always punctual, if not early, so it concerned you that he still hadn’t walked through the front door. 

Taking a few calming breaths, you reminded yourself that Ominis was incredibly capable, more so than you at times, so it wouldn’t do to sit around worrying. 

Standing up, you gingerly place the box on the couch, heading into the kitchen to make tea. Ominis would certainly appreciate a hot cup after the cold storm. You’d just put the pot on the flames, when two freezing hands appeared on your hips. Yelping, you turn around to an absolutely soaked Ominis, grinning down at you mischievously.

“Hello, darling.”  

“Ominis! I don’t understand how you keep doing this. Why is it, I can level an entire poacher camp alone, but I never hear you sneaking up behind me?” His grin widened as he took a step towards you, the puddle forming at his feet growing larger.

“It’s not my fault you keep letting your guard down. Perhaps you’ve become rusty?” 

Scoffing, a drop from his wet hair lands directly on your forehead, startling you. “My love, go change. Those clothes can’t be comfortable.” 

You try to move out of his grasp, but find yourself being tugged back, your hands landing on soaked biceps. 

“I’m actually quite comfortable right here.”

Water continues to drip on you from his hair as you squirm, laughing in his arms, his smile becoming more maniacal the longer you struggle. “Ominis! Release me you scoundrel, you’re soaked! Go dry off!” 

Instead, he hauls your body right up against him, shoving his face into the crook of your neck. You again squeal at him to let go, but he refuses to budge. 

Finally he raises his face, kissing you sweetly on the lips, before pulling away slightly. You gaze up at him in annoyance, grimacing. “I’m wet.”

He chuckles playfully, humming as he kisses you again and whispers against your lips. “You will be.” 

Blushing, you smack him on the arm and he steals one last kiss before releasing you to change, laughing the whole way up the stairs. 

You look down at yourself, now also soaked, and shake your head, a small amused smile gracing your lips. Grabbing your wand, you dry yourself off and clean up the water Ominis had tracked into the kitchen. 

The house had once belonged to Professor Fig, and was passed to you upon his death. It sat isolated on a high cliff, overlooking the ocean. Wildflowers bloomed in the yard, their stalks shaking wildly as Ominis’s ever growing cat colony chased each other through the grass. 

You’d moved in immediately after seventh year, not having another place to go, and not wanting to return to the muggle world. Ominis had returned to the Gaunt estate at first, but showed up at your doorstep in hysterics late one night, cursing his family name and the marriage they’d tried to force on him. You’d ushered him through the door, and he never walked back out. 

It’d been several years since then, and every day you were grateful to have him. At times, you had to stop and steady yourself, awed by the love he bestowed on you constantly. You thought it a crime that his family attempted to rob him of his gentle soul, and you swore to pay them back tenfold if they ever tried again. 

The tea pot whistled loudly, drawing you out of your thoughts. Grabbing two cups, you bring the tea out to the living room, startling slightly when you see Ominis standing by the couch, back to you. 

He’d changed into dry comfortable clothes, turning around when he heard you enter. In one hand he held the box you’d set on the couch, in the other, he held the contents of said box. 

“Darling, this was on the sofa. Is it yours?” You set the tea down on a table and walk over to him.

“It’s yours actually.” 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “A scarf? I have plenty of scarves my love, something you remind me of constantly.” 

Rolling your eyes, you worm your way under his arm, hugging his side,  arms wrapping around his waist. “It’s not just any scarf, you silly man.” 

He makes a curious sound in the back of his throat as he leans his head on top of yours. “Care to enlighten me?” 

Back at Hogwarts, Natty informed you of a certain charm taught at Uagadou. The spell allowed the caster to see through the eyes of a familiar. You’d immediately thought about Ominis, that maybe he’d be interested in trying it out, but Natty said that she wasn’t sure if it’d work on someone who was already blind. Thus, began the long journey of trial and error, often forcing Sebastian to play guinea pig with a blindfold. 

Once you were sure you’d perfected the charm for your purposes, you’d gotten to work on the familiar part. Natty was very specific, stating that the caster and familiar had to have a deep connection, and Ominis wasn’t overly fond of most beasts. He loved the cats of course, but you wouldn’t say there was one he favored in particular. 

Then the thought came to you, perhaps if you made something yourself, and then transfigured it into an animal, your connection with Ominis would translate over. Honestly, you’d have probably been able to show him sooner, if learning to knit hadn’t taken so long. 

Now though, everything was finally ready. Ominis held a cream colored scarf in his hand, both of your initials embroidered in the corner. “Why don’t you sit down, my love.” 

Ominis cocks his brow at you, but obeys, sitting down and patting the seat next to him. You sit and take his unoccupied hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“So, I’ve been working on something, for you, for quite a long time now, and I think it’s finally ready.” 

His thumb swept back and forth across your hand, body turned towards you attentively. “The scarf? You made it?” 

Nodding, you continue your explanation. “That’s not all. I- There’s a spell that would allow someone to use a familiar to…see.” 

You felt his fingers tighten on yours as his brows furrowed. “But I…I don’t have a familiar. How would-“

“That’s where the scarf comes in. I’m going to transfigure it.” 

Ominis breathed out, not saying anything more. You would be worried that he was cross with you, if not for the thumb still stroking lazy circles on the back of your hand. “And…you’ve been working on this? For how long?”

You pressed your lips together, unable to read his face to tell what he was feeling. “Since our seventh year.” 

Ominis sucked in a breath, his voice coming out in a whisper. “That long?” 

He clutched the scarf in his hand, holding it close to him, voice just above a whisper. “Show me.”

Squeezing his hand reassuringly, you take out your wand, and waving it over the scarf, you watch as it transfigures into a smooth white snake. You just thought he’d look so good with a snake draped over his shoulders, making such a striking image combined with his pressed jackets and manicured hair. He smirked slightly at you, raising an eyebrow in amusement. 

“A snake? Really?” 

“Shut up. Are…Are you ready?” 

His face becomes serious again, hesitating only a moment before nodding his head. You took a deep breath, praying for success. He closed his eyes, squeezing your hand as you cast the spell. You were sure to be extra careful with your pronunciation, placing your wand on the table when you finished. He waited a beat before cracking an eye open, sucking in a breath and snapping it shut again. 

You reached for him, heart sinking, fearing the worst. Before your hands could get too far, he was shoving his face into your shoulder, eyes still pinched shut. “Ominis, what’s wrong? Did it not-”

“It worked. I’m just- I just need a moment.” You could feel him take calming breaths against your skin, allowing him to stay there until he was ready. Slowly, he leaned back, eyes still shut. Blinking slowly, he opened them, taking in the carpet under his feet. He studied the patterns, following the black swirls, before looking at the fireplace. The snake’s head mirrored his movements, silently showing him what he wanted. He sat mesmerized by the fire for a moment, before looking back at the carpet, the snake moving in sync. 

“What…what color is that?”

You didn’t take your eyes off him, knowing what he was asking about. “Red.”

He mouthed the word, staring for a moment more, before turning his gaze to look at you. It looked like all the air left his body as he locked eyes with you, his breath shuddering out of him. “...oh.” 

His eyes darted around your face, a stricken look on his features, mouth slightly open. You didn’t know what he meant, feeling slightly self conscious under his attention, resisting the urge to cross your arms in front of you. You’d never felt insecure in your relationship, but suddenly you worried he didn’t like what he saw, nervous it would have a negative effect on his feelings for you. 

You unintentionally shied away from his intense scrutiny, and his hand shot out to your face, chasing you. “Please don’t run.”

He swallowed, still staring at you with wide eyes. “I’m-I’m sorry, it’s just…that’s…that’s what you look like? I- How- How did you end up with…me?” 

You looked at him bewildered, his eyes drinking in the new expression. “How did I…end up with you? Ominis I- because you’re kind, and generous, and-”

“But you just look so…I don’t- I can’t articulate how-” He stopped abruptly, releasing an irritated huff at his fumbling. 

You realized that he’d never seen himself before. He didn’t know how beautiful he was. Standing suddenly, you haul him up, dragging him to the nearest mirror. The snake slithered up his arm, resting its long body around his shoulders, head turning quickly as Ominis tried to look at every object you passed. 

You lead him to a mirror hanging in the hall, stopping in front of it. “How did you end up with me? My love, take a look at yourself.” 

He turned his attention to the mirror, eyes wide. His hand came up to touch his face. “Are these…moles? I have so many.” 

Hugging one arm, you lean your head against him, watching him inspect himself. You smile lovingly, fingers running up and down his arm lightly. 

He watched in the mirror as you watched him, the look on your face striking him in the chest. Was this how you always looked at him? Even having now seen himself, he truly couldn’t fathom why you chose him. He thought he looked so plain compared to you. You were…Merlin you were beautiful. He’d known that of course, his wand giving him a vague idea of your facial structure, but it was nothing compared to this. He could see the slightest change to your expression, the color of your skin, your eyes. It was overwhelming. 

“You have to stop doing this.” 

Scrunching your brow, you shake your head at him, not understanding.

“Every time I think I can’t possibly fall more in love with you, you give me another reason. What am I supposed to do? Nothing I can give you will ever hold a candle to what you’ve given me.” 

Shaking your head, you try to object, but Ominis continues on. “I’d endure every terrible thing in my life, all of it, all over again if it meant you’d be there waiting for me.”

You turn your face away, hiding your watery eyes. He squeezes your hand, a soft smile painting his face, his voice intimate. “Thank you, my love.”

You sat together in silence for a moment longer, just basking in each other's presence. Eventually, he asks you to disenchant the snake and turn it back into a scarf, informing you that he was feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment. You did as he asked, taking care to place the scarf back in the box carefully, saving it for another time. 

He held you close that night, limbs entangled, your face tucked into his neck as he combed his fingers through your hair. Basking in your warmth and replaying your image in his head. 

—————

It’d been a few days since then, the both of you sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a peaceful morning. You gazed out the window at the rising sun, sipping your coffee, lost in thought. Ominis stroked his fingers on the back of your hand idly, an enchanted book in the other hand, seemingly engrossed in the words. In reality, Ominis’s attention was elsewhere, mulling over the events of the days prior. 

He’d used the scarf a handful of times, for short periods as it was still quite overwhelming, preferring to use his wand for most things. 

However, a thought continuously ran through his mind every time he saw you. He loved seeing the little expressions that were often lost to him, treasuring each one, but as time went on his eyes would drift lower, wondering what you’d look like under your clothes. He’d trace the contours of your body, his hands lightly following the path his eyes blazed.

He wanted desperately to peel your layers off, slowly exploring your skin with his lips, wondering what color you’d turn with his mouth on you. 

What he wasn’t thrilled about, was the large snake he’d have to wrap around his shoulders, wearing it the entire time he ravaged you. He turned the thought over in his mind, pondering possible solutions, and the things you’d said about the nature of the spell itself.

“Darling, may I ask you something?”

You turned your head towards him, eyes blinking slowly as you came out of your distracted daze. “Of course, my love, anything.” 

He paused for a moment, mindlessly stroking your hand in thought. “That spell, does it only work on animals?” 

You cocked your head, to the side, considering his inquiry. “I’m…not sure. The spell specifies that a connection is required, but I don’t know if it’s strictly limited to beast companions. Why do you ask?”

Ominis hummed in thought. “Simply curious.”

 

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’ll do some research today while you’re at work.” 

Smiling, he gently brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles lightly. “Thank you, darling.”

—————

It took a couple more days, and a brief trip to see Natty, but you think you’d done it. Ominis sat in front of you on the couch waiting patiently, a nervous buzz beneath his skin. He closed his eyes in anticipation, until he felt the now familiar feeling of the spell taking effect. 

Opening his eyes, he was startled with the image of himself sitting on the couch. It was interesting watching his own reactions, finding coordination difficult as you sat across from him. 

You watched him flail about for a moment, unsure of how to match his movements to what he was seeing. Standing, you take the seat next to him. “Better?”

He nods, and turns his face to you, disappointed when he only sees himself looking back. This wouldn’t do at all. His brows furrowed, a pout forming on his lips. “I can’t see you.” 

You chuckle and grab his hand, guiding him once more to the large mirror in the hall. Standing in front, you gesture to your reflection. “Problem solved.” 

Ominis slots himself up behind you, winding his arms around your torso as he places his chin on your shoulder, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Problem solved indeed.” 

There was something in his voice that sent a shiver down your back, but you watched him start to place light, lingering kisses on your neck. You stood there, tilting your head to give him better access, to which he groaned in appreciation, his kisses becoming a bit more forceful. 

You continued to watch him in the mirror as he worked his way up your neck, flinching when he bit your ear playfully. He laughed quietly in amusement, enjoying every expression you gave him and moved his hands to your hips, squeezing them. 

“Ominis…” Panting slightly, an aroused flush appeared high on your cheek bones, as a needy ache formed between your legs. Pleased hums reverberated against your back, Ominis’s hand traveling upward, brushing your nipple through your clothing. You jerk against him again, a second brush of his thumb pulling a small whimper from you. 

Ominis groaned as he watched you, feeling giddy and a bit clumsy, as if this were your first time all over again. He knew the contours of your body like the back of his hand, but savored every twitch and whimper as his eyes devoured you hungrily. 

He kept his gaze fixed on your face, head spinning at the furrow of your brow and half lidded eyes, lips parted slightly, breathing heavy. His hand gripped your chest fully, sucking at your neck with fervor, a breathy whine escaping his lips at your lustful expression. He detached himself from you momentarily to speak. “You’re telling me…this is what you look like when I touch you?” 

He ground his hard dick into your ass, hands tugging your hips tight against him. “I haven’t even undressed you yet, and you already look like this?” 

Reaching a hand up, you close your eyes and slam his mouth down onto yours in a passionate kiss. He moans into your mouth, disappointed he could no longer see you, but loving the desperation with which you kissed him. Twisting in his arms, you stand on your toes, winding your arms around his neck to keep him close. 

Ominis wrapped his arms around you, stroking your sides as he pushed his tongue past your lips. Suddenly, he rips himself from you, panting a demand into your mouth. “Upstairs. Now.” 

You waste no time grabbing his hand and clumsily leading him up the stairs, both of you tripping in your excitement. He kicked the door shut behind him, tugging on your hand forcefully, bringing you back into another searing kiss. He had one hand on your face and the other gripping a handful of clothing at your waist, spinning you around to push you against the door. 

His hand traveled from your waist, skimming your thigh before lifting your leg to his hip, giving him better access to grind his lower body into you. Moaning, your hands find his hair, pulling on it while you pant his name between sloppy kisses. 

“Is there a mirror in this room?” The words are growled against your mouth and it takes your brain a moment to process his question. 

“A- A  mirror? I- um, n-no I don’t- I don’t think there is.” It was hard to think with him grinding his hard cock into you, creating such delicious friction. He kissed you again, unable to stay detached for too long. 

“Then make one.”

Your legs wobbled at his demanding tone, unsure if you’d even be able to make it to your wand on the bedside table. “M-My wand…it’s oh Merlin- it’s on the table by Ominis- by my side of the bed.” 

Groaning, he tugged you from the door, lips never leaving yours as his hands caressed you every place they could reach. The both of you fumbled your way to the bed, your hand blindly searching the table for your wand, almost knocking it on the floor. 

Tearing your mouth from his momentarily, you transfigure your bureau into a huge mirror sitting on the far wall. The image of your disheveled appearance, with Ominis wrapped around you, appeared in the reflection. 

Ominis whimpered loudly, rolling his hips into you hard. “Merlin, my love, I can’t- you look so good. Did I- Did I do that to you?.”

Your eyes roll back at the awe in his voice, barely able to stand. His hands tug at your clothes with purpose, cursing under his breath. “Get these wretched things off.” 

Tearing at your clothes, you’re eager to comply, ripping the clothes from your body as he does the same. When you finish, he climbs backwards onto the bed, hands tugging you along with him. He lets his hands explore your body as he kisses you, fingers traveling lower, feeling the wetness between your legs. 

“So wet. All for me. All mine.” 

You loved when he got possessive like this, but today especially, he seemed so wild, like a beast in heat. You’re abruptly turned around, Ominis settling behind you once more. Craning your neck, you go to question him, but the words die in your mouth when you catch a glimpse of your reflection. 

All you see is your naked body on full display, Ominis hovering over your shoulder, staring at your reflection hungrily. Becoming a bit self conscious, you try to cover yourself, but your hands are immediately ripped from your body, his grip tight on your wrists. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

Whimpering you try to tug your hands from him. “Ominis, it’s a bit- it’s embarras-“

“I don’t care. Let me look at you.” Growling his words directly into your ear, he releases your hands, peppering wet kisses on your shoulder. Ominis brings one hand to your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other travels lower, skimming your stomach. Your breathing picks up again as you watch it, anticipation replacing anxiety. 

His hand stops just short of where you want it, stroking the skin possessively. “Don’t even think about closing your eyes. I won’t miss a single second of you coming undone.” 

Before you could respond, his fingers plunged the rest of the way, finally where you wanted them. You automatically close your eyes as you let out a shameless whine, but immediately feel him halt his movements. “What, did I just say?” 

Forcing your eyes open, you train them on your entangled bodies in the mirror. “Good. So good.” 

He continued his movements, fingers driving you higher and higher almost tipping you over the edge, but it wasn’t enough. You start moving your hips against his hand, making sure to rub his leaking cock against your ass. His movements falter and he tucks his face against your shoulder for a moment, breathing frantic and heavy.

“Ominis, my love, I need- Merlin, I need more. Please. More.” Emphasizing your plea with the grinding of your hips, it only takes a moment before Ominis rips his fingers from you, leaning back on his heels a bit to line his aching cock up with your entrance. 

“As you wish, darling.” 

He pushes into you slowly, maintaining enough self restraint to still be gentle, knowing you’d need a moment to adjust to his size. You cried out at the full feeling, a string of whispered encouragements falling from your lips. You struggled to keep your eyes open, but were rewarded with the sight of Ominis, completely wrecked as he shoved himself inside of you. 

Once he was fully seated, he stilled a moment just breathing, his face resting in the crook of your neck. He waited a bit longer than you would have liked, so you attempted to buck against him, trying to coax him into moving. Instead an arm clamped around your front, preventing you from moving, while the other hand came to cover your eyes. 

As you were about to ask, you felt a wetness on your shoulder, startling you. “My love, what’s wro-“ 

“I’m sorry, my darling, I just- I just need a moment.” His voice was quiet, words watery as he kept still, holding you. Tears silently ran down your back, as Ominis released shaky breaths into your skin, arm tightening around you.

“I love you. So much. It’s- Sometimes I get overwhelmed by how much I love you, and this…treasure you’ve given me is- is…my love, I can’t even begin to tell you what it means to me. You deserve so much more than I can give you. I’m sorry, but…I don’t- I don’t think I could live without you anymore.” Ominis sobbed his words into your shoulder, one of your hands clamped on his arm, and the other gripped the back of his head, trying your best to hold him in your current position. 

The tears stopped a moment later, and he lifted his head to place a few loving kisses on your lips, hand still covering your eyes. Sniffing slightly, he nudged your nose with his, whispering an apology. “I’m sorry for ruining the moment, darling.”

Laughing quietly, you card your fingers comfortingly through his hair. “No moment with you is ruined, my love.” 

You wiggle your hips a bit, reminding him of your current situation. “However, I would still like to finish, if you’re up for it.” 

Chuckling in amusement, some of the fire came back to his chest. Kissing your shoulder a few times, he moves to speak directly in your ear. “Always.” 

He starts out slow, grinding his hips into yours, trying to build your desire back up to where it had been. His hand comes off your eyes, and you immediately open them to look at your reflections. Ominis moans as your image floods his mind once more, hips starting to move faster. “So fucking pretty.” 

Shuddering at his praise, needy whines fight their way out of your throat, begging him to go faster. Obliging you, his hips snap forward at a wild pace, his chin hooked over your shoulder to keep you close. “I can’t- my love, I don’t think I can last much longer. I need you to- oh Merlin darling, I need you to cum. Please. I need it so badly.” 

Ominis trails one hand down your front and starts working you in time with his thrusts. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, struggling to keep them open. “No, no, no, my love, please keep your eyes open. I want to -fuck, I want to watch you fall apart. Please, let me. Please?” 

His thrusts get sloppy as he speeds up, fingers stroking you so perfectly. He whispers praises into your ear. Telling you how good you are for him, how much he loves you, how much he needs you, how desperately he wants you to cum. His pleading whispers hurl you over the edge and you force your eyes to stay open for him. 

He sobs at the sight of you, finishing as soon as he feels you convulse around him. Emptying himself inside you, his hips keep twitching and grinding, prolonging both of your pleasure. Lips brush your neck as he speaks praises into your skin, thanking you for staying with him, for loving him. 

The room was silent, save for your combined panting, the two of you trading comforting caresses as you come down. You allowed the spell to fade, Ominis eventually pulling himself from you to find a cloth, not needing his wand to navigate your shared home. Once he returned, he wiped you down with gentle, practiced motions, kissing your skin with an ‘I love you’ every now and then. Once he’d finished, Ominis tossed the cloth into some dark corner of the room, a problem for tomorrow. Laying down, he pulls you into his chest with a pleased sigh, kissing your forehead twice before settling. 

You’re both quiet for a long time, Ominis rubbing lazy, contemplative circles between your shoulder blades. The feel of his fingers and the beat of his heart lulling you into near sleep, only interrupted by his quiet voice. 

“Marry me.” 

Eyes closed, you smile to yourself. So demanding. 

“When?” 

“Tomorrow.”

You huff in amusement, too tired to do much more. “I’ll owl Anne and Sebastian then.”

His lips stretch into a sweet smile against your forehead.

“I already did.” 

[siddyyyyyyyy]

University Romance

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish x female!Reader

Wc: ~2 K ; part two

warnings: being kind of stressed out, 'crazy' chemistry professor Soap, no y/n used, Johnny and Reader are about the same age, the name of the university is fictional

summary: You and Johnny are two professors at a university, and he often catches you working late in your office. Also, you're just really good friends and there's probably more to it.

a/n: I don't know how I got that in my head, it's a quick drabble, but I hope I could get my idea across, even if my first language isn't english. Have fun!

Redcrest High Academy, Monday 11:21 PM

Work is fun. At least for you, and that's also what you're trying to tell yourself every time you have to stay in late. It's a pretty social workplace, getting to meet rather famous professors but also some pretty edgy students. Fortunately, you don't have to deal with the edgy kind of students since you're only a history professor. And also take part in some psychology lectures, where most of the edgy students are. Very unfortunate.

This time, it's the grading that keeps you up at work for longer than usual. Inside your office, it's no one but you and those paperlong paragraphs your students wrote about a current topic you are discussing from the previous lectures. It is already dark outside, but the small lamp on your table is working, casting a warm light onto the papers in front of you. The big light is on as well, but it never quite reaches your desk, so the small lamp is a good help.

You are about to put the grade on the essay when you hear a knock at your door, humming absentmindedly for them to come in while being focused on calculating the grade in your calculator again. Of course, it's no other than Johnny, or as his students call him, Soap, for always having crystal clear objects for experiments, having been caught cleaning those in breaks as well. He walks in and steps up to your desk, hands in pockets and studying the big pile of papers, before his eyes land on the essay in front of you. He understands quickly, nodding to himself before he clears his throat shortly to catch your attention.

»Grading, huh? At this hour?«

He questions and takes a look at his watch with an exaggerated arm motion before he puts his hand back into the pocket. You finally manage to write the grade down with some feedback on the side before glancing up to him.

»What?« You put your glasses down and check on the digital clock next to your lamp, realising it's about time you usually go to sleep normally. Johnny tilts his head at your question, a hint of concern crossing his features.

»How many essays did you grade today? Ten, twenty?«

»Eleven.«

He rolls his eyes and takes a seat at the chair in front of your desk, crossing his arms as he leans back. »You're aware it's eleven PM now, right? Lectures ended four hours ago.«

You nod in response, having had your last lecture around that time. Unfortunately for you, he is just as work consumed as you, which means he often catches you staying late or napping at your office.

»I know, I was about to pack my stuff anyway.«

He watches you in disbelief, sighing out dramatically.

»No, you weren't. Didn't even notice me come in, hypnotised by those papers.«

Johnny scoffs lightly and gestures to the essays, now being two piles of graded and ungraded work.

»I get it, you like your job, and that's great, but... c'mon, not even I am as determined as you.«

He shrugs lightly and shifts on his seat to lean back further, seemingly tired from today. You shake your head and stand off your chair, smoothing out the papers before groaning lightly from your lower back pain. As always, you stretch your arms and crack your back, the sounds of joints and bones cracking being soft but loud enough to make Johnny grimace slightly.

»Yeah, you need a break.« He nods to himself, making you huff out amused.

»Listen, I don't need you telling me what to do. I know when to take a break.«

He shakes his head at your words, disagreeing and ready to talk your ears off about the importance of rest. Before he could start, you put your hand up in the air, looking to him finally.

»And now that you're here, I'm going to pack my stuff and get outta here. And you won't say another word.«

Johnny almost interrupts you and wants to say something again before he settles on watching you while he stays in his seat. It's silent, the only sounds being the light ruffles of paper as you organise them and put them back in your bag. The glasses you left on the desk earlier are being put back on the bridge of your nose, slinging your bag around your shoulder finally. He finally speaks up, staying seated as he watches you for now.

»You're lucky I was still here, building up the experiments for tomorrow.«

You don't believe him, giving him a side long glance.

»More like cleaning those weird bowls and glasses of yours.« He's not too amused at your light jab, getting off the chair while gesturing to himself.

»I am just doing my job properly. Don't want my students to get hurt from dirty-«

»What were those loud sounds from this morning, by the way? Did you try to set this place up?«

He perks up at your question, even though you interrupted him just now. Johnny has a big grin on his face now as he gets to explain it to you, walking around your desk while he does so. You listen to him explain in full detail why he decided to do such an experiment and how he set it up, telling you how his students made the small bombs he told them to construct. It led to having built colourful mini-bombs that they just had to set off in the lecture hall. The ceiling is high enough anyway.

Johnny and some other students had some blue and yellow sticking on their clothes and faces, but it was fun, and his students know how to build mini bombs now.

»You don't think it was risky to teach them how to build literal bombs?« That's your only question you have for him now, as everything else doesn't surprise you anymore.

»No. They're studying chemistry; they would have it figured out sooner or later.« He reasons casually, which makes you agree somewhat quietly.

----

Redcrest High Academy, Tuesday 8:13 AM

You're thankful to Johnny for baically forcing you to stop working the night before, because you can already feel how tired and sore your body is after sitting and grading for so long. The lecture hall is mostly quiet as usual, something most teachers in schools would kill for, but in your case it's making you almost frustrated. Why are your students always so quiet during lectures? Do they fear you? Before you could worry any longer about them, a hand goes up from a student, seemingly wanting to ask something. »Have you graded our assignments yet, miss-« »No.«

Okay, maybe it's no wonder your students are mostly silent during your lecture, but being all bubbly and social like your favourite colleague is not easy. And forcing yourself to be more social and funny with your students will only earn you some weird or confused stares. A loud, sudden sound goes off, similar to a small explosion, making everyone jump up and look around for a moment. You hold your hand up and sigh out wearily. »It's probably Professor McTavish again. Calm down.« Not a second later and said Professor is peeking into your lecture hall with a worried expression, his lab coat seemingly less clean, him having a rather dishevelled look. »Your fire alarms didn't go off, right? Don't worry, we already put the fire out. Just checking in.«

He can't be serious.

He clicks the door shut, and the hall is silent for a brief moment before some chuckles and laughs errupt, making you smile slightly as well. You're making a mental note to ask what he was doing with his class again before focussing back on the task at hand. With that quick disturbance, the lecture continues as before.

Once lunch break begins, it's your mission to find Johnny and talk to him about the earlier disturbance. It's certainly not hard to find him; walking into his lecture hall makes it a quick find as you see him cleaning the tables and the other stuff the chemics have around. »Weak arson attempt or another experiment?« He gets surprised by your voice and presence, turning around to face you. He grows sheepish for a moment before chuckling lightly at your question. »I guess one of my students needs to study a bit more. He never gets to set up another experiment alone again.«

You are sure, you could hear some light tension in his voice while he continues to clean and scrub around. Maybe he is just focused on cleaning so much, making him seem a bit tense. In all honesty, he rarely gets mad at his students or scolds them, but it's evident this particular student had to endure some of his strict words after class. »Hm... well, at least my students got a kick out of it.«

He barks out a laugh at your words, pausing on his cleaning for a moment. »I'm sure they did. But my students were afraid for their lives there.«

This makes you shake your head subtly at how serious that sounds. But it's nothing new, just another tuesday at work. After a few more words, you retreat from the room and get to continue your own work, the day going by quickly. ----

Redcrest High Academy, Wednesday 8:43 AM

Another work day, another chaotic day for the chemistry students. The class is lively inside, talking to classmates, making jokes, and telling stories to one another before their professor walks in. It gets more calm once Professor McTavish walks in, most being curious about what they will do in this lecture. He seems to be in a good mood today, as usual, standing by the whiteboard as he explains today's lesson and shows them some diagrams over the projector.

The atmosphere is more light and exciting, the students having their first semester and enjoying themselves, not needing to face the horrors of writing essays or doing research at home for the class yet. A particular student holds his hand up, him already having the nickname 'boom box' from Johnny for being louder and more extroverted than the other students.

»Are you and the history professor something?« Johnny pauses at the question, not having expected such a question. He blinks and looks rather caught off guard by the question, making some students chuckle. »Don't get me wrong, you just seem like a married couple. You're always together and stuff.« Johnny has to literally restrain himself from thinking about you both being potentially something more than friends, acting as neutral as possible in front of his students. He gathers himself quickly, shaking his head as he holds one hand up slightly. »This is chemistry class, no? We have no time to discuss something like this.«

This earns some classic booing from his students, making him roll his eyes while he just tries to get back to the lesson and also teach them about minding their own business.

----

Redcrest High Academy, Wednesday 9:00 AM

You enter his office with two coffees in hand, each for the two of you, as you find him leaned over his desk with his back to you, looking like he is contemplating something really hard. The sight isn't new as you're walking up to him and place one cup at his desk beside him. He acknowledges it with a small nod and finally notices who you are, turning his whole body to face you.

»Did you know my students think we're married?« Silence follows afterwards, blinking at him while he takes a loud sip from his coffee. »Wow, straight to the point, huh?«

He doesn't match your sarcastic energy or finds it funny, staying serious as he stands in front of you.

»They thought we were married.« He repeats, making you narrow your eyes at him before realisation hits.

This is gonna reach the other colleagues in no time.

a/n: Wow, cliffhanger, oh my god, no one has done this before!!! Let me know what you think about this, I'm not sure if I will continue writing about this silly guy kachow

[chronicowboy]

Song 88 for the playlist character thing!

hi! sorry this took so long but you chose possibly my favourite buddie song of all time and i just had to write a little ficlet

the door swings open (and you're standing there)

As he grabs Eddie's duffel bag from the backseat, Buck thinks of Hachikō the dog that waited for his owner to arrive at the station after work every day. How he waited long after his owner had died. Until he too eventually died at that very same station. It's far too easy to imagine himself sat just outside those airport doors, watching, waiting, withering.

Buck wouldn't get treats and food from affectionate passersby. Buck would get pitying looks from any commuter that spared him a glance.

Still, when Eddie's hand brushes his as he takes his bag, Buck thinks his tail would be wagging, if he had one. Wants to paw at Eddie for more. Wants to press his face into Eddie's neck. Wants to be a bad dog and sink his teeth in there too. Leave a mark. Remember me. Take this with you. Hate me if you have to, just take me with you.

"Got everything?" he asks instead, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Hopefully," Eddie sighs and slips the strap over his shoulder. His eyes are skittish like a doe in a field deciding which way to run. He's fiddling with the zipper on his bag, and it takes Buck back to a too-bright kitchen, Eddie's thumbs rubbing into his palms.

This is panic. This is Eddie Diaz panicking.

"Tell Chris I say hi," Buck says. An out. Always, always an out. And then, he'd left, and Buck had had to hide behind Tommy instead. But eventually he'd left too, and Buck. Well, Buck had ruined everything. This, however, works exactly as he'd planned. Soothes Eddie's hackles right down and draws out that shaky little smile of his. "Tell him—" The words choke themselves off in Buck's throat. "Tell him I love him." And his voice comes out wrong. Wobbly and weak when this should be the easiest thing in the world to say. "Tell him I miss him, and I love him more than he'll ever know. Tell him like that."

Eddie's face cracks open again, smile shattering, the resigned eyes of a doe caught in a trap.

"Buck," he croaks. Swallows, stands to attention, sets a hand on Buck's shoulder. His thumb burns a hole into Buck's collarbone. "You're talking like you're never gonna see us again." Buck shrugs, regrets it almost immediately, waits for Eddie's hand to slip from his shoulder. It doesn't. Anchored there, sure and unyielding. "I'm gonna be back in a few weeks."

"To get your stuff, Eddie," Buck scoffs.

"Yeah." Amusement blooms across Eddie's face, unfurls in his eyes like the first bud of spring. He tilts his head to catch Buck's gaze, smiles wider. "And I'll be packing you into one of the boxes, so you can help me put all my furniture back together again."

Buck thinks it'd be infinitely easier, if he was a dog, to slip into Eddie's moving van unnoticed. Launch himself into Eddie's arms when the doors opened after eight hundred miles. Lick his face and beg for forgiveness rather than permission.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Eddie says, and it's full of that Diaz conviction that makes Buck feel like he's been overtaken by a wave. He wants to drown in it.

"I know." Buck shrugs again. Shrugs a little more than last time. Eddie's hand falls from his shoulder, and Buck hopes that was the only thing keeping him afloat.

"No, seriously." Eddie huffs at Buck, at himself maybe. He runs a hand through his hair, and those two perfectly messy strands fall right back over his forehead. Buck has thought on more that one occasion about reaching up to brush them away, but this is something that doesn't need fixing. "I'm going to be alone over there, Buck. Especially if Chris isn't ready for me to be there. And you..." Eddie doesn't choke on his words. He laughs. A sweet, tinkering sound. It reminds Buck of the windchimes in Eddie's backyard. "You have always been right there by my side. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do when you're not there anymore."

"You'll figure it out." Buck shrugs again. He glances up from the pavement just in time to catch the defeated collapse of Eddie's shoulders, his face.

"Buck..." He takes a deep breath. "I don't know if I want to figure it out."

And there are a thousand things Buck could say. A thousand unspoken words Buck has hoarded since he flipped over that stupid fucking tablet. A thousand truths he could spill in parking structure 3 at LAX during his seven-dollar half hour.

There are things he could say that Hachikō never got to.

Instead, Buck lets them all clump and clot around his heart like some cancerous mass to be removed when it's already too late.

"You should get going," he says. "Don't want to miss your flight."

Eddie looks at him for a beat too long. Eyes unnerving. Buck feels like peeling paint on a wall watching a can of paint stripper get set down on the sheet-blanketed floor. Feels like a nerve exposed to the brisk chill of winter air, every sensation just too much. So, when Eddie wraps his arms around Buck's middle, he feels it like a thicket of thorns latching onto him. It's instinct that has him catching Eddie. And it's a sword that lances straight through his chest when Eddie's grip tightens around him, hands fisting in the fabric of Buck's shirt, nose replacing his thumb on Buck's neck. Every point of contact like a weeping wound. Buck will carry each of them until he's empty.

When Eddie pulls away, it's Christopher he thinks of that allows Buck to let him slip away.

"Fly safe," he rasps.

"I'll make sure to tell the pilot there's precious cargo onboard," Eddie teases with an eyeroll. It's so close. So almost normal.

"You do that." And it's not even close. Nowhere near normal. He can't even give Eddie this. Ruins their goodbye once more.

"See you soon, Buck."

He could spare himself the pain. Could walk away right now. He was always good at that. The walking away, not the sparing himself pain. But, well, Buck couldn't not watch Eddie leave anymore than Orpheus couldn't not turn around to share in the delight of sunlight with his Eurydice. And when Eddie turns to look at him one last time, offers him a half-smile and a half-wave, before getting swallowed up by the crowd, Buck thinks it's his fault for loving him so much.

Except that's not true, is it? Orpheus travelled all the way underworld, charmed the ferryman and Cerberus and Hades himself with his music. The perfect melody of love and grief. Buck drove Eddie to the airport and just... Let him walk away.

Eddie would make a better Orpheus, he thinks. Eddie who found joy and flung the door open wide to Buck, so ready to share it with him. Eddie would make the perfect Orpheus. If only he loved Buck the way Orpheus loved Eurydice, the way Buck loves Eddie.

That's the simple truth of it. Buck loves Eddie. He'd do anything for him. And if that means crossing the Styx, losing him for good, Buck thinks it'll be worth it as long as Eddie goes knowing he's loved so completely that it becomes natural.

Buck goes through the glass doors. He slips through the crowd. Elbows his way towards the security checkpoint.

When he sees Eddie, he thinks he'd turn around for his Eurydice not to share in the light but because she is the light. Buck would gladly go blind.

Buck manages to catch him before he reaches the line for security, and Eddie turns to him with a delightfully bemused frown.

"Buck, what—"

"I'm sorry." Buck shakes his head, squeezes Eddie's wrist. "I'm sorry. I've never been good at goodbyes, but I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to say goodbye to you, Eddie."

"It's not goodbye, Buck." Eddie frowns, grabs Buck's wrist right back. "I said see you soon, and I meant it."

"I know. I know you meant it." Buck smiles. Some crumpled copy of a smile at least. "I just hope you still mean it after this." Eddie's face twists into something both confused and offended like the thought of not seeing Buck again is just so utterly unthinkable.

"What—"

"I'm in love with you, Eddie." Buck doesn't wait for a reaction. Can't. "I only just figured it out, can you believe it? Six years of you at my side, and I only realise when you're slipping right through my fingers." Buck laughs, a noise like nails on a chalkboard. "I'm not expecting anything of you. I just... I just needed to tell you before you left or otherwise I'd regret it for the rest of my life."

"Buck, I—"

"You don't have to say anything, Eddie." Buck shakes his head, still smiling. "Just promise me something?"

"Anything, but, Buck—"

"Just promise me, Eddie." He tightens his grip on Eddie's wrist, nails digging in just a little. Well, a bad dog after all. "Be honest with Chris. Tell him the whole truth. Don't go hiding things you think he can't handle it. Chance is he knows it already, he just doesn't have a name for it. And that makes it so much worse, Eddie. You grow up feeling it, but you're never allowed to look at it. And it grows and grows and grows. So, just. Tell him everything. No matter how heavy. Tell him, and the two of you will carry it together instead of alone. Promise me that, Eddie. Don't colour it with your guilt. The plain honest truth, okay?"

"Okay." Eddie nods blankly. Buck squeezes Eddie's wrist and drops it. Eddie grasps it against his chest like he's been burnt.

Buck walks away. He looks back just once.

~~~~

Eddie has been in Texas for almost a whole month. And since a perfunctory Arrived safe after his flight, they haven't talked once. So, Buck throws himself into work. Embraces the flames of a five-alarm fire like an old friend. Jumps off of thing just to feel the blessed weight of free-fall before the rope snaps taut. Covers every shift he can find until Bobby forces him to take ninety-six whole hours off.

He runs around downtown LA until his bad leg starts to scream in pain. He goes to the gym with music blasting in his headphones, so he can't hear the ugly thoughts curdling in his brain, lift weights until the shoulder he'd dislocated starts to scream too. Watches reality TV until his brain feels like it's melting right out of his ears. Eases his way into fitful sleep with shots of tequila chased by the old beers in the back of Eddie's fridge.

His first shift back is stifling. The eyes on him making him feel like a rabid dog backed into a corner. Everyone terrified of what he'll do next. So, he whispers quiet to himself in the bathroom and sighs in relief when the alarm blares.

They don't get back to the station until 3am, and Chimney is too tired to go on a manhunt for whoever jinxed them, so Buck stows himself away in the loft whilst everyone else shuffles into the bunks. He checks his phone out of habit, grinning at the picture of Maddie's sonogram she'd sent after her appointment, wonders if Chim is trying to sniffle quietly in the bunks—almost definitely.

And then, he sees the voicemail.

He doesn't really think much of it. Tries to tell himself it's probably just his doctor calling about that check-up he should be scheduling or the landlord asking if he's decided on renewing his lease or not yet, ignoring the timestamp in the corner of the little white box, ignoring the stutter of his heart and the tremble running through his body.

01:47

Buck clicks on the notification before his phone can shake right out of his hands. He brings it up to his ear, listens, waits. He takes a deep, rattling breath in perfect synchronicity with the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, Buck, I'm sorry I haven't..." A pause. "God, you must have thought..." A huff. One of those laughs that's trying too hard to be a laugh and ends up being something else instead. "I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking. Jesus Christ. I'm fucking stupid, Evan Buckley. Did you know that? I, God, I don't know how I didn't see it. I've been looking at you almost every day of my life for six years and somehow I never fucking saw it. You were just...

"You're like breathing, Buck. You-you're a necessity. An instinct. You don't notice it's there until it's gone. And then you spend three and a half weeks panicking in a shitty AirBnB in El Paso because you can't fucking breathe without him. And I—" Eddie isn't breathing. Eddie has always been breath-taking to Buck, stealing the air right out of his lungs. Not for selfish gains but to take care of it when he didn't trust Buck to do it himself. "I love you. I'm in love with you, Buck. Oh, my God. I'm in love with you. I didn't know, Buck. I didn't know. You have to believe me. I didn't know. And now... It's not too late, Buck. Is it too late? Am I too late?"

"No," Buck whispers into the empty air of the station. Can't help himself. Feels the no like a parasite in him. Like a xenomorph bursting right out of his chest. Too big, too big, too big.

"I love you, and I'm two states away, and I didn't know I could love you like this, and I didn't know love could feel like this, Buck. I just want to be where you are. Always. I want to hold your hand. I want to hold you. God, I want to kiss you. Buck. I want to kiss you so badly. But I have to... Chris is here, and he's talking to me, and I'm picking him up from school now. I can't... I can't kiss you. Not yet. I need to fix our family first."

Buck clasps a hand over his mouth and sobs against his palm. He doesn't know what it is he's feeling. Couldn't name it all if he tried. The most comparable sensation he has is how it felt when he woke up after his leg. When the drugs were just strong enough that he was numb in that delicious kind of way. Warm instead of cold. Floaty. Everything dulled, but that little voice in the back of his head telling him something was wrong.

"I'm firing my realtor tomorrow, I don't care. I need to take my house off the market. My parents are driving me crazy. Christopher misses you. I miss you. I love you. I love you." Eddie laughs. And this is a laugh. A real laugh. One of his bubbles of joy that Buck wants to be encased in forever and ever. "I just. God, it's always there, Buck. It's always been right there. Writing grocery lists and running into burning buildings and driving through traffic and I was loving you the whole time. How the hell have you been carrying this around? I feel like it's going to crush me if I don't... But I left. I left. I'm so sorry I left. It's late. You're at work. I shouldn't. I love you, Buck. Okay? So much. Call me back?"

The line doesn't go dead. Eddie sits there breathing down the phone for twelve more seconds, and Buck inhales after each of his exhales like he'll be able to taste Eddie's oxygen from eight hundred miles away because he's greedy. But. But Eddie loves him. Eddie wants to kiss him. Eddie is eight hundred miles away.

Buck pockets his phone and heads for Bobby's office with something frantic buzzing away beneath his skin. He raps on the door gently, clenches his hands into fists and stuff them into his pockets as they shake, shake, shake.

"Come in," Bobby calls, quiet with the late hour. Buck pushes into the room. Too concerned with the way his spine seems to be trying to crawl out of his mouth to think about his face, but whatever expression is there has Bobby setting his pen down with three quick blinks. "Buck. Everything okay?"

"I need to go to Texas," he blurts out. Bobby blinks three more times. Okay, not quite what he'd meant to say. "I know you just gave me four days off, but I-I need to go, Bobby."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Buck smiles, and he's not sure what it looks like, but it makes Bobby melt back into his seat with a smile of his own. "Everything's good, Bobby. I just need to see them."

"Take a week," Bobby says just like that.

"W-wait, really?"

"Why not? Pretty sure you've got more vacation days saved up than everyone else combined." Bobby nods, a final approval. "Hit the bunks, get some sleep, head home when you wake up, forget about any calls."

"Are you, I mean, are you sure?" he asks, doesn't realise he's almost bouncing in place until the corner of Bobby's mouth quirks up just a little more.

"Yeah, Buck, I'm sure." He jerks his head. "Go get 'em."

Buck doesn't need to be told twice.

~~~~

A day later, one miracle down and almost five hundred dollars poorer, Buck is lugging a half-zipped duffel bag out of an extortionately priced Uber. He drops the bag on the doorstep of some stranger's bungalow, raises his fist and hesitates. It's just—

Can it really be this easy? Can Buck just show up out of the blue and expect to be welcomed with those kisses Eddie had been wanting so badly? Can he have this? Can he really have Eddie?

And then, like an answer, the door swings open.

Eddie is standing there bathed in the golden light of the entryway lamp. He's frozen to the spot, paused with one arm in his jacket, the other hanging limp at his side. His jaw slack, but tugged up just a little, so slight only Buck and his PhD in Eddie Diaz would catch it. And his eyes. God, his eyes. Buck almost falls to his knees for missing those brown eyes alone. Now, they're the warmest Buck has ever seen them, wide and full of wonder. Buck did that. Buck filled Eddie's eyes with awe and fondness and so much love he thinks he could drown in it even if he was still in LA and looking at them through a screen.

"Buck," Eddie breathes, smile dawning over his face like the most beautiful sunrise Buck has ever seen.

He doesn't even get to open his mouth before Eddie's arms are around him, and Buck doesn't know why he was mourning Eddie's house when this is so clearly home—the pounding of Eddie's heart against his own. Buck slides his arms around Eddie's waist, slips them under the jacket hanging from his left shoulder, buries his face in Eddie's neck and breathes in as much home as he can fit in his lungs. Eddie does the same, just clings to Buck, inhales, digs his fingers into Buck's back deep enough that he hopes they bruise.

"You're here," Eddie whispers into Buck's skin.

"I got your message," Buck rasps.

Eddie pulls away like it's the last thing he wants to do, barely even pulls away, just enough to look. And, oh, does he look. Takes Buck in from head to toes, lingers on his lips just a moment longer than the rest. Looks at Buck like he's seeing fire for the first time, amazed, enchanted, just the tiniest bit afraid. He's beaming. It's not a smile, not a grin. It's a beam. Buck wants to bottle it.

"Going somewhere?" Buck asks, plucking at the half-on, half-off—half-on, what the hell, Buck's feeling optimistic—jacket. Eddie glances down at it blankly, shrugs right out of it and lets it fall to the floor without taking his eyes off Buck.

He's not sure who cracks first, but their twins grin burst. Eddie almost doubles over with the force of his laughter, catching himself on Buck's shaking shoulders. And Buck doesn't know how long they stand on the doorstep just laughing, but he thinks he could stay there forever. Could get drunk off the sound of Eddie's joy. Because that's what it is really. The jacket falling hadn't been this funny. Nothing was this funny. Because this was just what happened when happiness grew too big to be contained.

Eventually, their laughter fades into huffed little breaths that makes Buck feel like that exposed nerve again when they hit the skin of his neck.

"Hey, Buck," he says, joy glowing in the pink of his cheeks. "I love you."

"Hey, Eddie." Buck smiles, but that isn't really a big enough word for what he's feeling. "I love you."

Eddie kisses him like he's been thinking of nothing else for a month. Eddie kisses him like he's run all the way from El Paso to LA just to kiss him. Eddie kisses him like it's the end of the movie and the music is swelling and the fireworks are exploding. Eddie kisses him like he's kissed him a thousand times before.

Gentle. Chaste, really. Desperately careful. Devastatingly tender. Fond and enamoured and loving. It tastes of joy.

Eddie pulls back only to lean in again. Drops one, two, three, four more kisses to Buck's mouth before dragging his thumb over his bottom lip. His eyes flicker to Buck's, a question, and Buck answers. Leans in and keeps on leaning. Asks Eddie, asks the universe, pleads, demands: fuse us together, let me crawl inside, I'll stay, I'll stay right here. And Eddie doesn't just permit him. Eddie opens up to him, answers with a question of his own: can I be yours, can this be us, can I call you mine?

When Buck pulls away, he finds the eighth wonder of the world. Eddie, kiss-dishevelled, swollen lips, cheeks red, hair mussed, eyes glossed over.

"You're here," Eddie croaks, voice hoarse from just a kiss. Buck's knees go weak. "How long are you here for?"

"Bobby gave me the week," Buck says, breathless from the best kiss of his life.

"Well, that'll have to do, I guess," Eddie teases.

He kisses Buck three more times before dropping to a crouch. All the blood in Buck's head floods South so fast he's dizzy with it. But Eddie stands back up with his jacket, tosses Buck's duffel bag into the entryway and pushes him off the doorstep.

"Come on. We're gonna be late."

"Late for what?" Buck asks, still half-stuck on the image of Eddie basically dropping to his knees in front of him.

"Dinner with my parents," Eddie says as he locks the door.

"Uh..." Buck blinks. "Do you want... Sh-should I wait here?"

"If you think I'm letting you out of my sight, you're crazy." Eddie cups the side of his face and pecks him once on the lip before heading to the truck. It's so domestic, so perfectly easy. Buck thinks he must be losing his mind because there's no way to kiss someone like that two minutes after your very first kiss. "Besides." Eddie throws him a grin as he slips into the driver's seat. "If Chris found out I'd kept you from him for even a second, he'd really never forgive me."

[euphoricimagination]

Part 2: You finally enter the infamous project, meeting your new 'teammates' as you play your first match

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Mastelist

A letter has arrived into your household, the name Japan Football Union on the front of it, with the details about the whole Blue Lock project you had agreed on.

By now you had already cut your hair into a more boyish cut, had been provided with the necessary stuff to hide your chest and a good backstory in case someone saw you with it on. And while you didn't look exactly like a boy, it was good enough to fool people.

You're now inside of the Japanese Football Union building, a bunch of boys already there when you entered. You shouldn't have worried that much, there are some here that were more on the pretty side rather than masculine.

"Congratulations, you unpolished lumps of talent, according to my judgment, the 300 of you are the best strikers under 18" Ego starts saying, making you scoff at how theatrical he was being. A pair of purple eyes look in your direction, giving you an amused look at your bored expression

"What, bored already?" He asks you, making his white haired friend look at you too

"He talks too much" you answered vaguely enough, as Ego starts debating with one of the participants. The purple hair dude chuckles while the white hair one just looks at you

"That I can't deny. I'm Mikage Reo, this is Nagi Seishiro, who are you?" He asks you

"Yn" you say simply, bowing slightly. THE Mikage Reo? The son of the biggest corporation in Japan?

"Isn't that a girls name?" Reo asks again, lifting his eyebrow

"My parents liked the name too much to give it up, i guess" you shrugged your shoulders just on time as a dude with black hair starts running towards the door, a bunch of them following right behind. You look at Ego, who had a creepy smile, and sigh "see you inside, i guess"

"Wait" Reo takes your arm "Don't tell you agree with that bastard?"

"Meh, it's better than nothing. You don't have to enter though, it's your decision after all" i say letting go of his hand, bowing slightly as i start walking away calmly. You can see Nagi trying to leave and Reo trying to convince him to stay as you pass down Ego.

"Keep an eye on him, that Isagi Yoichi has guts" Ego mutters as you pass him, making you nod.

++

When you enter Room Z there's already two people there, a sleeping one that had already changed and one with long red hair. You bow to the red hair one and move to your locker, wanting to change quickly before anyone else comes in

"What's that?" The red hair asks beside you, looking at your chest where the binder covered in some loose bandages was on "why are you wearing that?"

"I had some health problems, so I had to use this…" you say unaffected

"Really? Wouldn't this make it more difficult to breathe?" Asks curious

"I got used to it" you shrugged as you put the shirt on "What? Are you gonna judge me now?"

"Nah, just curious. I'm Chigiri Hyoma" he extends his hand, you took it and shake it, trying to look as confident as he did

"Yn, nice to meet you" you say and he nods, acknowledging you. You luckily finished changing when more boys started to arrive in the room, so you went to the wall to rest there until whatever Ego had planned starts. The last one to arrive was the same dude that entered first, Isagi Yoichi you presume.

After everyone is done changing, you hear the screen behind you start making noise, Ego appearing on the screen.

"Hi.hi. the others in your room are your roommates and your rivals who will push each other higher, I've already rank your abilities, that's the number you have in your uniform" he says, making everyone look at their arm sleeve, your number was the highest of the people near you "That ranking will change by the day and will go up or down depending on training and games. Finally, those in the top five will unconditionally be registered for the u-20 world cup happening six months from now"

You look surprised just like everyone else in the room, you gotta give it to Ego, he had a great plan. And even though you probably won't be able to participate, it even makes your heart excited at that.

"Time for some tag" Ego announces as a ball drops down into a bald kid, who immediately goes after Isagi

"This is ridiculous, I can't see how this game is "Top Training", I'm only participating to prove him wrong" says Kira, the kinda famous kid.

Luckily for you, you just had to dodge here and there, the ball concentrating mostly on Isagi, the bald dude and Kira. At some point the dude that was sleeping, Bachira according to the prompter, sends the ball a little too long when Kira moves to a different side, coming straight to you. You sensed Isagi's will to change, his aura changing completely after he tried to go for Kira, so you took the ball and sent it to him with only mere seconds to spare.

POW!

The ball sounds against Kira's face as the time runs out, Isagi effectively eliminating him. So that's why Ego told you to keep an eye on him, he definitely had the spirit that Ego was looking for.

"Good work, you lumps of talent, results are everything here, now get our loser! Ryosuke Kira!" Ego says appearing on the TV again, making Kira go on a rampage about how useless all this games were "In blue lock everything is related to soccer, take a good look around, you mediocre elite"

"The size of the room is the same size as the penalty area, right?" you say out loud, making a few of the other players surprised as Ego confirms your words "after all, that's the space where strikers work the most"

"SO WHAT? I GET THE SIZE OF THE ROOM, BUT PLAYING TAG ISN'T SOCCER!" he screams at you, rage in his eyes

"I mean…to tag someone requires a great ability to aim and shoot, which is needed if you want to score" you continue adding, his face still furious as Ego continues explaining how he lost. He then leaves the room annoyed, making Isagi come to where you were

"Why? Why did you pass it to me? If i hadn't kicked it then you would have lost!!" He says to you

"But you wanted to kick it" you answered simply as an arm passes around your shoulder, Bachira joining in the conversation

"Yeah, your face said so!" Bachira says to Isagi, then turning to you "Nice cover, by the way, I didn't think he would move at the last second!"

"But.."

"Results are everything here, right? Then we won by trusting you!" Bachira says, making you nod

"Congratulations, you've passed the entrance test!" Ego says from the monitor "the eleven of you will share a common destiny, sometimes you'll cooperate, sometimes you'll betray each other, now you are blue lock Team Z"

+++

3 days have passed since that entrance test, and an intensive training is now in place. Luckily for you, you have managed to hide your body from them quite easily, you woke up a bit earlier to change clothes and went to have a quick bath when everyone else was in the dorms ready to sleep. You didn't know if you were that good of a liar or they were just oblivious.

You were running in the treadmill alongside Kunigami and Chigiri when you noticed Isagi practicing his jumps, so far everything you've seen him do has been…mediocre at best

"Huh? Why does Ego like him so much?" You mutter to yourself. The same day where Kira was eliminated Ego has called you briefly to his office, telling you one more time that you needed to see if Isagi Yoichi had the capabilities to become the best striker…so far you have nothing positive to report

"Eh? What did you say?" Kunigami answers breathing hardly, understandably considering you were running at almost 20 kph*

"Nothing, just cursing Ego" you say, receiving a light laugh from Kunigami

"You know, you're more athletic than i thought you'd be" Chigiri says now, talking for the first time

"Yeah, you have a tiny frame, I'm surprised how you can keep up with us" adds Kunigami, making you raise your eyebrow "no offense, of course"

"Whatever, you do realize that my rank is higher than both of you, right?" You say with a small smirk

"Eh?! You're right! How's that even possible?! You're smaller than me!"

"Don't know, figure it out yourself" you say raising the speed a tad more, making the two other boys groan in frustration "C'mon, you can't be this tired already, we still have like ten more minutes to reach the usual 90 ones of a match"

"You're a monster, Yn-kun, a monster" Kunigami says as he raise his speed too "but I'm not losing to you"

You planned on having dinner alone, around this time you didn't have much physical movement, so you could ditch the binder for a more relaxed way to hide your chest, however it didn't make you less paranoid. That's why you much rather eat alone, so you could avoid any questions in case anyone noticed, and things were going well until a small bumblebee decided to raid your meal

"Ehh?! You have curry? No fair" Bachira whines as he sits besides you, a plate with to rice and chicken sitting in front of him

"I didn't think we will have different meals just because of 1 level difference" you say

"I know, right? I want some curry too!!" He says looking at your plate with want

"Don't you dare to touch it" you warn him, making him whine loudly again. You sigh, slightly annoyed at the boy "fine, we can share, better?"

"Yay! Thanks Yn-kun!" He says taking some curry to his plate "you know, I noticed the other day that you wear some bandages around your chest, are you okay?" He asks, making you almost choke on your drink

"I am, I just had..some small health issues"

"Do you have a scar? Can I see-?!" He asks

"No!" You cut him quickly "No, it's…something I'm not comfortable sharing"

"Ahh, well okay, it's fine. I was just curious" he smiles as he continues eating, not pressing any further "then Yn-kun, why did you pass that ball to Isagi-kun? Why didn't you shoot yourself?"

"I just felt Isagi-kun aura, didn't you noticed? He was in the zone" you explained "Isn't that the same reason you wanted to pass to him too? Because you knew he was going to shoot no matter what?"

"Well, yeah. Passing it to him felt right, but of course Kira-Kun had to move too. Do you also hear a monster when you play?"

"A monster? No…i just play however it feels nice" that's definitely an interesting take, a monster? What kind of weird bunch did Ego invite?

"Well, I like your play style too! You're definitely one of the top players here, let's practice together one day!"

"Sure, one day" you say smiling at him as he continues eating

The next day Ego calls you to the main room, and basically explained what you already knew about the plan, how team Z was the worst one of the bunch and all that

"... Whoever is best at soccer here is king, if you want a nice life, then win and boost yourselves. Now let's begin blue lock first selection. It's a tournament for the 5 teams, after the final match, only the top 2 teams will be selected. It's a survival match"

The moment everyone heard this they started babbling about their positions, everyone here was a forward, and now suddenly they had to play different positions if they wanted to survive and become the best striker. As Ego finishes talking everyone is left in a confusing state, will anyone even want to give up being a forward? You knew you couldn't just take it, while you were a good player, your job here was to help them achieve that dream, you probably won't even last until the second selection anyway.

"So… rock, paper, scissors?" You ask first

"Yeah, that seems fai-"

"Ehh!? Why do you get to decide that?! We should do it by strength instead!"

"Raichi, stop. Yn-kun is right, rock, paper, scissors is the fairest way to decide" Kunigami says stopping Raichi, who just mumbles an agreement. Everyone just agrees, starting to play

"Oh, i won" says Isagi, you also won the second place, so you had an early choosing opportunity, and Bachira was third

"Okay, so Isagi-kun chooses first, then Yn-kun, and like that down the line" Kuon explain, he was like the captain of the team

"Then i want to be a forward" says Isagi, Kuon writing down the position as Raichi scoffs

"I'll be a defender then" you say boringly when you feel an arm around your shoulders

"Ehh? Yn-kun, you are one of the best players here, why would you be a defender?" Bachira asks you

"He's right, you have crazy speed, your stamina is good too, you should be at least a right winger" as Kunigami "it wouldn't make sense if you are a defen-"

"Eh?! Are you looking down on us, you small fry?!" Raichi says to you, making you roll your eyes

"Well, I'll put Yn-kun as a right winger then" says Kuon, writing down your name in the notebook

"That's good! I'll be the other forward to then!" Bachira keeps the conversation going, with the other players ranting about how the good positions were already taken. It surprised you, honestly, you knew you were a good player in comparison to the rest of the girls, since you used to only play with boys growing up, but being considered an equal to these much taller and muscular dudes was something you never even tried to imagine.

Finally the match was about to start, you were putting the vest on.

"Isagi-kun won a chose to be center forward so let's focus our strategy around him" Kuon remind you

"Yeah" both you and Bachira answer, making you smile at each other. Bachira has been the one member you got closer the fastest

"Isagi-kun" you call him when you notice him thinking "relax, you can only go higher from here"

"Yeah, thanks" Isagi says

"We just have to win, right? Easy" Raichi says stretching

The match was against team X, one dude with spiked hair was the only one that grabbed the attention out of all.

The match starts with Bachira passing to Isagi; however, even before he was able to confront the other team, Raichi took the ball for himself, and before anyone could react, everyone was trying to get the ball to themselves. To be expected really, after the whole talk about having to be egoist to be a proper striker nobody would have just…obey. Everything was chaos until the one dude from Team X, Barou if you heard correctly by the cheers, took the ball and made a goal by himself.

Not one, not two, but five goals. Team Z was losing 5 to 0.

"Ahh we're just running in circles" Bachira says looking at the clock "there's no way we can get five points in 3 minutes..but"

"We can at least get one" you say, making Bachira look at you knowingly before looking at Isagi

"Yeah, the 3 of us can recover at least one, wanna try, Isagi-kun?"

"...Yeah"

"Bachira-kun and I will draw the attention, you shoot Isagi-kun" you say with Bachira nodding as he says, your job was to bring out the talent of the players, so that's what you'll do.

"Run, Isagi, we'll meet in front of the goal"

With that Bachira passes to Isagi, who passes almost immediately to you so you could start moving. You were able to pass one doing a nutmeg, passing the ball unexpectedly through his legs, while passing another one by just running a bit faster right before passing back to Bachira, who also passes three dudes before sending it to Isagi.

Isagi manages to get close to the goal; however the number 10 of Team X, Barou, cuts him off from scoring. You run towards the goal yourself when that happens, making the other team mark you as well, when suddenly the ball comes into your field of view, Isagi has passed the ball for you to shoot.

You instinctively take the ball, and despite having a good 70 meters between you and the goal, you do a powerful shot and make the first and only goal for team Z.

And despite absolutely being demolished by the other team, despite the sudden pass, despite mot being able to breathe properly because of your binder, despite that the only reason you were even here was to help the others score, you couldn't help to feel the need for more, to score again and again, to become better even when you were not supposed to.

"Hey! Yn-kun! Nice goal!" Says Bachira to you as you walk towards the lockers, giving you a high five

"Yeah, you were amazing Yn-kun" adds Isagi, giving you another high five

"Thanks Isagi, Bachira. But why did you pass to me? Was it because of that dude?" You ask Isagi

"I don't know how to explain it, it was unconscious, you just seemed with more opportunity to score"

He says a bit down as you enter the lockers, moving to sit down with a towel on his head while you clean your sweat with a towel. You ignored the rest of the team as they fought, an unconscious pass? Could it be that he's a natural playmaker? If he doesn't know why he passed the ball then that's the most likely reason why.

"... We're one loss away from the end!" You hear Kuon say, making the rest question him whether he had some plan or not

"Well" you hear Kunigami say "that goal that Yn-kun made couldn't have been done without Bachira and Isagi, right?

"Yeah, I'm sure we can come up with something if we start with that" you add as Raichi starts yelling again. You were still breathing hard when you noticed Bachira naked in front of everyone, so you ignored him hoping that your face wouldn't blush.

You kept ignoring the rest of the team as you focused on your body, your chest was hurting, but that was to be expected considering that you ran for 45 minutes without being able to have a full breath. You thought that your practice was more than enough, but clearly things were different on a real match

"I don't think everything that Ego is saying is true" Chigiri says going to the refrigerator, throwing you a drink as he took one for himself "I mean, he said this is to win the world cup and he was talking about world-class strikers like Ronaldo, Messi, and Cantona, but not all of them have won the world cup, but he did say ‘this is a battle to rebuild soccer from zero’. I think that might be some kind of hint"

"Oi, are you okay?" You hear Kunigami ask you

"Yeah, I'm fine" you say gaining your breath properly

"Why don't you just take off that chest thing you use?" Asks Chigiri, making Kunigami look at both of you confused

"I…I can't, I just need to get used to it" you say as you drink the energy drink "it'll take a few more matches though"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you did good today Yn-kun, that was a good goal"

And before you could answer Kunigami the TV behind you starts sounding, Ego appearing on it.

"Howdy, you lumps of talent, the second match of wing 5 has already finished. Team V crushed Team Y 8-0 so here are the current standing"

He then proceeds to explain how soccer works, why he wants this new revolution of soccer to happen and how strikers are the ones that can make this revolution happen. As you hear him talk you couldn't help to think how crazy this whole plan was, even though you pretty much heard everything he was saying once you agreed to do this.

"ACHIEVING THE REVOLUTION KNOWN AS A ‘GOAL’ CAN ONLY BE DONE WITH YOUR OWN WEAPONS!!"

Weapons, huh? That makes sense, if these boys don't know how to properly use and improve their talents, weapons as Ego called them, they won't get too far either here or in their soccer career.

"Yn-kun, we're gonna go shower, you coming?" Asks Kunigami as he and Chigiri stand up and start taking their clothes off, you really have to adapt to this fast if you don't want to stand out.

"Not yet, I wanted to get some practice done first, go ahead" you say as you stand up stretching

"Okay, don't overexert yourself" Chigiri adds as they both leave. You exchange some words with both Bachira and Isagi until you part ways, them going to the dorm while you waste time until all of them leave the bathroom area so you could shower at peace.

You were walking towards the practice area when you noticed Anri standing in the door, visibly waiting for someone

"Yn-chan, thank God you're here fast" she tells you when you approach her "Ego wants a reunion with you, let's go, you can wash up yourself there too, there's a private bathroom"

"Okay, what for though?"

"Not sure, but it's Ego we're talking about here"

She leads you to the apartment Ego was living in, a few floors above where the project was happening. You loosen up your binder on the way there, now being able to breathe properly until you have to face your team again.

"Yn-chan, come in, come in" Ego says as he starts preparing some ramen. You sit down on the table waiting for him when your stomach rumbles too "Anri-chan make her something"

"You could ask nicely, you know?" The woman says making you a bowl of ramen too "This is all he eats, Yn-chan, sorry it can't be more filling"

"It's alright, it's a nice change from curry" you says smiling at the woman as she sets the bowl in front of you, already ready. You don't really think twice as you start to dig in, Ego looking at you as he eats himself.

"So Yn-chan, nice goal back there" he says with a tone that left you wondering if it was a compliment or not "Although i would have much rather to see someone else scoring"

"Ego-san!"

"It's alright Anri-san. Isagi-kun passed it to me, it would have been weird if i didn't try to shoot, wouldn't it? After all, you were the one doing the whole talk that you needed to be an egoist and make goals" you say grabbing more noodles, an unfazed look in your face

"True, but do you think that helped them?"

"Yeah, somewhat. Some of them are still trying to understand what you meant by creating soccer from 0, so i think the combo that Isagi-kun, Bachira-kun and I did is a good start for them" You say as you drink some of the soda that Anri passed you "Although admittedly I wasn't thinking any of that at the time, I just wanted to score"

"Well, if anything your ego will make others want to improve too. What do you think of Isagi-kun so far? He passed instead of trying to score after all"

"He said the pass was unintentional, that he just felt I could score at that time. He probably has some spacial awareness and he doesn't know it yet, not everyone can just make that decision in the middle of a game" you add, thinking back at the pass from Isagi, he clearly was trying to score instead

"Well, he sounds more like a mild fielder if that's the case, so he needs to figure out how to use it as a striker. Help him find that out Yn-chan"

"Yes sir" says as you finish the food

"The rest seem to be in good shape, they just need to get used to this. Make sure to not lose again, Yn-chan, it's too early to leave"

"Yes sir" you say, however you can't help but wonder "Sir…why do you want me to help Team Z so badly?"

"Because I can sense that some of them can become amazing once they wake up, but they lack someone in the team that can help them get that instinct and nurture it. That's it"

"I thought you'd want them to figure it out in their own"

"And they still have to do that, you just need to give them some hints. You may leave now" you stand up and bow as Anri passes you a towel and some clothes before pointing where the private bathroom was.

"Ego-san, are you sure this was a good idea?" Anri asks Ego once both of them are alone. Ego smiles as he checks the recordings in his TV's from the goal you made and the faces of your teammates

"I'm sure that she can make this diamonds in the rough bloom" he focuses on Isagi face, smiling in excitement "she'll make sure to do it"

[warlocksass]

Kinktober Part Five

There's no way Jade would let Dragon go through his rut alone.

Heads up: NSFW, Explicit sexual content, M/M, Dragon x Human, Monsterfucking, Double Penetration, Breeding, Belly Bump, Teratophilia. Words: 5,474

Read on AO3

All That Glitters Masterpost

Jade entered the den with excitement and nervousness building in his stomach. Usually when he entered the numerous candles would blaze to life so he could see better, this time only about half illuminated the dark space, making it look more dramatic than it was. He felt more than heard Dragon's deep growl rumbling through the room and knew that if he were anyone else he would already be dead.

He kept walking with no fear, carefully putting the bag of supplies he brought with himself halfway to Dragon's bed. Well, nest. The nest was hidden in a cozy alcove that had a massive mattress stretching from wall to wall. Windows on the surrounding walls usually let Jade watch the city below them on lazy days, but tonight the windows would be hidden under heavy curtains.

Jade approached the nest, wanting to get a glimpse of Dragon before things got out of hand. A pair of white glowing eyes were watching him. In the darkness of the room they looked like a couple of stars in the sky.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jade heard Dragon's voice all around him and shivered in anticipation.

"If you think I'm letting you go through your rut alone you're crazy." Another growl rumbled through the space and Jade stopped a few steps before the nest. He felt Dragon's heated gaze run over his naked body - no sense in ruining good clothes - and waited.

"Treasure, I appreciate your care, but you must know I won't be able to control myself soon enough. Even for you, I'm too much like this."

"That's why I came prepared." Jade tossed two empty potion bottles on the bed. "One will make me stretchy and wet, the other will let me heal faster." Another growl made him smirk. "You can't say you would rather spend your rut alone than with me?"

The mattress shifted and Jade got a glimpse of Dragon's dark form shifting in the alcove, moving off the bed. A few more candles lit up and Jade could see him better as Dragon left his nest.

Jade backed off, giving Dragon enough room to get off the bed fully. He bit his lip as he took in the massive form in front of him.

It wasn't the first time Jade saw Dragon's dragon form, but as always it made excitement burst in his chest. He was magnificent. Standing on all fours Dragon towered over him and Jade had to tilt his head up to look into his glowing slitted eyes. Just his head was half the length of Jade's torso, and his horns made it look taller. His sleek form was covered in obsidian scales that Jade knew were smooth as glass and warm to the touch. Jade also knew they had an iridescent sheen to them under certain lighting, looking like nebulous formations in the sky.

Dragon had his wings out, folded over the muscular body, their leather texture hiding the scales underneath. His massive tail shifted with his movements and Jade wondered how Dragon didn't knock anything down as he slowly approached.

Arousal ran through Jade and he heard Dragon snort in amusement, likely smelling it. Jade wasn't embarrassed about it the first time he saw Dragon's full shift, and he wouldn't be embarrassed about it now. If anything, it would encourage Dragon to let him help with his rut.

"Treasure, do you even know what you're offering?" His mouth didn't move as he talked, his voice settling around Jade instead.

He met Dragon's gaze, unafraid. "I know I can be flippant about sex with you, letting you do anything you want. But I swear I thought about it and know what it implies." He tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck. "Mx. Diamante even gave me books and supplied me with those potions. Your personal assistant is scary sometimes."

"That they are." Dragon chuckled and leaned his head closer to Jade. Jade didn't startle or move away and let Dragon smell him, wondering what he could pick up from his scent. He felt Dragon's hot breath ghosting over his chest, down his torso and hips, then back up before it stopped at his neck. Jade let Dragon take his time with this, patient.

It seemed like Dragon found what he wanted because he let out a desperate growl and then a thick tongue was covering Jade's shoulder and licking up his neck, to his chin. Jade shivered and immediately rested his hands on Dragon's massive jaw, feeling the smooth scales merging into deadly spikes there. He shivered and opened his mouth to moan, only for Dragon to immediately lick into his mouth.

All Jade could do was open his mouth and take it as a massive wet tongue was thrust inside it, reaching his throat. He felt Dragon's hot breath on his face as he closed his eyes and leaned into their kiss. Dragon tilted his head, trying to push deeper inside his mouth and Jade felt his sharp fangs on both sides of his head. Jade could smell the metallic scent of Dragon's last meal as his jaws surrounded Jade's head, close enough to make Jade his next meal. He moaned, loving the breath of danger and sucked on the slick tongue inside his mouth. He pet Dragon's head as he relaxed his throat, feeling that massive tongue going down like it was a cock. His own cock was quickly getting interested in the situation, but Jade ignored it. This wasn't about him.

Well, not entirely.

He knew he would enjoy himself thoroughly until Dragon's rut ran out, but Jade was also aware he might end up begging for mercy and get ignored during this time and he was also okay with that.

Dragon growled and slipped out of Jade's mouth, leaving him dazed, panting, and wet from the thick saliva running down his chin and neck. The slick tongue licked down his neck, teasing a path down to his pierced nipples only to stop and tease him there. Jade shivered at the wet and messy feeling of the thick saliva running down his body, leaving a hot trail. Dragon licked at his nipples incessantly, giving both attention until they were red and straining against the wet touch. He licked over Jade's navel, giving soft bites here and there before finally licking over his straining cock.

Jade jumped and gripped at Dragon's horns for dear life as the wet tongue wrapped around his cock and started moving. Dragon made use of his prehensile tongue to edge Jade, who twitched his hips with the movements and whined his pleasure as the tongue squeezed around him, making him leak into Dragon's mouth. Dragon was unrelenting in his advances and kept a fast and punishing pace, making Jade's mind go numb with pleasure. He looked down at the massive head in front of him, he couldn't even see his cock surrounded by the tongue with massive fangs hanging over it as if Jade needed the reminder that he had his cock in a very dangerous mouth.

Jade felt the tip of the tongue teasing his balls, licking and shifting over them, before it slid down, leaving a wet trail before poking at his tight entrance. Jade couldn't stop himself from fucking into that tight wet heat, twitching into Dragon's tongue curled all the way around him. He gripped the horns and Dragon let him fuck his mouth like he wanted.

Jade whined in pleasure and his hips stuttered, coming on Dragon's tongue. He couldn't stop moving as it kept licking over his unprepared entrance, teasing.

Gasping for breath, Jade finally released his tight grip on Dragon's head and pulled away. Dragon's tongue licked over him as they separated, leaving his cock shiny with spit. Jade whined and sank to his knees as his legs gave out. Dragon leaned his head down and licked into his open mouth, purring. Jade couldn't even taste himself on his tongue, just Dragon.

He sucked on the tongue and kissed back as best he could, but all he could think about was returning the favor and sucking off Dragon in this form. He pulled away with a gasp and his gaze trailed down Dragon's underbelly. He could just barely make out two massive shapes in the shadows under Dragon's belly.

Without thinking about it Jade crawled between Dragon's front legs under his body, reaching his target in a daze. He heard Dragon's growl above him, but didn't mind it as he came face to face with two massive cocks.

Jade was mesmerized by their look - they looked different than in Dragon's half shifted state. Definitely bigger - he wouldn't be able to wrap his fingers around one, let alone both of them. He was very grateful for that stretching potion he took. The shape was far from human - the tips pointed with the head flaring out wide before tapering in and then getting wider again, the girth right at the base was massive and made even thicker by the bumps all along the length of the underside. The bumps started out as just that - small protrusions right under the cock head, but the closer to the base they got the more they stretched and curved until they resembled dull hooks. Jade's hole twitched as he wondered how that would feel inside him.

The cocks - one on top of the other - emerged from a sheath that melded into the rest of the body, with heavy balls hanging down just down below. Dragon's whole body was night black, and the cocks started like that at the base, but then melded into a dusty gray, with the tips shifting into white. As Jade looked his fill he watched a bead of clear slick gather at the tip of one of the cocks and drop onto the floor, leaving a sticky string that only broke right before the drop hit the floor between Jade's parted knees.

Unable to wait any longer Jade reached out with both hands and wrapped each around one cock. Dragon twitched above him and Jade heard the expensive wood floor creak as his claws scratched it. The cocks were slick and hot to the touch, and they twitched and leaked more slick as soon as Jade wrapped his fingers around them. Without thinking about what he was doing Jade licked the bottom tip, gathering the precome with his tongue, before licking up to the other, cleaning it off in one swipe.

The taste was familiar, just more potent - salty and bitter, and somehow with a hint of ozone that followed Dragon's magic. Jade pressed his lips to one of the cock heads, feeling the heat of it, before slowly exploring it with his tongue. The feeling wasn't too different from Dragon's cocks in his half shift, giving Jade confidence in his actions as he sucked the tip between his lips. The cock above it twitched and another drop of precome dripped down before Jade caught it with his palm and used it to slick the movements of his hand on the top cock.

Jade licked around the alien shape of the cock, getting familiar with it while his hands explored the shafts. He moved his hands down to the base, feeling the massive girth there, before slowly dragging his fingers up, squeezing on the cocks, making them leak. Jade swallowed the slick from the cock he was sucking while letting the other cock leak all over his hands and the other cock, making his hand movements slick and easy.

Jade sucked more of the cock in his mouth, enjoying the hot weight on his tongue and the salty-metallic taste of the slick that covered it. He started bobbing his head over the cock, moving his hands in tandem. He made sure to give the top cock more attention with his hand - teasing the tip, swiping his palm over it before dragging his palm to the base and squeezing tight. Dragon was constantly rumbling above him, the sound reverberating through the massive body. His hips twitched, making Jade choke on the cock in his mouth as it spurted globs of precum he wasn't ready for and it ran down his chin.

Jade was a mess - the top cock kept leaking into his hair, on his face as he sucked down the one below as deep as he could, there was slick running down his chest to his hard cock, which was also leaking a steady stream onto the floor. Both of his hands were covered in thick precome, making their slide easy. The sound was obscene - from his slick hands to Dragon making Jade choke by fucking his cock down his throat, the sound of Jade's wet mouth as he sucked on the cock as the other dribbled down the side of his cheek. There was a puddle gathering on the floor below them and Jade couldn't care that they were potentially ruining the very expensive hardwood floor.

He doubled his efforts, bobbing his head and relaxing his throat to take more of Dragon's cock inside him. He only managed less than half so far and felt it like a personal challenge. His body felt warm and relaxed, arousal heating his blood. Jade's ass kept twitching and he could feel himself start to get wet. It was an interesting feeling - something close to when Dragon filled him up with lube with a syringe in order to stretch him dry. His cock twitched in anticipation.

Dragon's cock head pushed into his throat and Jade whined in satisfaction. He was still far from taking the whole thing down his throat - realistically he never would be able to - but this was good enough for now. He swallowed and Dragon groaned above him, his other cock continuously dripping on Jade. Jade pulled off with a satisfying pop and gasped a few deep breaths before sucking the cock down again as he continued to fuck his throat with the massive length. His palm kept petting the underside, making the cock leak directly down his throat, the hot precome sliding down directly into his stomach.

Jade kept moving his hands, teasing and pulling on the cocks, squeezing more liquid out of them. He fastened his pace when he heard Dragon's claws scratching the floor and felt him twitch his hips. The heat coming off Dragon intensified and Jade could feel the massive body above him tense before Dragon came in his mouth and all over his face at the same time. Jade whined as he was covered in wet heat.

Dragon's hot come filled his mouth and spilled through his lips even though Jade tried to swallow as fast as he could. He eventually gave up trying to catch all of it and opened his mouth, tilting his head up, sticking his tongue out. He didn't stop moving his hands on Dragon's cocks, milking them of their come as it hit his face and ran down his neck, covering his chest in sticky heat. Jade licked his lips and swallowed gulp after gulp as Dragon kept coming, his cocks twitching and pulsing in Jade's hands. Dragon's body above him was panting and vibrating with pleasure, his hips twitching in time with the pulsing of his cocks.

Jade sucked on the pulsing head, licking the slit as it spurted a few more drops, the stream finally slowing. He did the same to the top cock, cleaning the twitching cock head of come. The cocks finally stopped twitching, but didn't get soft and Jade licked his messy lips, all he could taste was Dragon's salty come covering his mouth. He was an obscene mess - come in his hair and on his face, running down his body, covering his fingers. His cock twitched as he sucked two of his fingers into his mouth.

Dragon shifted above him and Jade found himself on his back on the bed with a growling beast above him. His legs dangled off the edge as Dragon towered above him - a massive inhuman shadow hidden in the dark with only his eyes glowing and his fangs reflecting the candlelight. Jade's stomach jumped in anticipation. Dragon purred in satisfaction at the sight of him covered in his come. Jade opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, knowing what a debauched picture he made, and got rewarded by Dragon's tongue filling up his mouth again. He relaxed into the kiss, sucking and licking back as arousal sparked through his body. He felt Dragon's massive clawed hand trail over his torso and arched his back leaning into it.

His breath stuttered at the pinpricks of pain the obsidian claws left on his body. Dragon trailed his claws down his hip and thigh, before hiking Jade's leg up and holding it. He did the same with Jade's other leg, leaving him completely exposed at the edge of the bed. Jade moaned around the tongue fucking his throat and twitched his hips in anticipation.

Dragon broke the kiss and left Jade panting, mouth slack, and dazed as he moved down and settled on the floor in front of Jade's exposed entrance. Jade felt himself twitch and leak a drop of slick right in front of Dragon's watchful gaze. He held his legs up, keeping himself open and exposed.

Like an offering for a mighty beast to do as it wishes.

Jade arched his back as Dragon's tongue licked over his pucker. His fingers tightened on his thighs as Dragon dove in and ate him out like a starving animal, powerful growls vibrating through the room and Jade's body. His tongue was hot and wet, the texture slick and just barely rough to tease Jade's sensitive skin and turn it red. Jade tried to move his hips, fuck himself on that teasing tongue but was stopped by a heavy clawed palm pinning his abdomen to the bed.

Dragon pushed just the tip of his tongue inside Jade and he whined. His body didn't resist at all as Dragon pushed more of his slick tongue inside. It felt incredible. Jade felt his body opening up without problem for Dragon's massive tongue, when they would usually have to get him ready just to take half of it. Jade felt how truly wet he was, the slick running down from his opening down his crack and on the bed couldn't be only Dragon's spit.

Jade's eyes rolled back as Dragon pushed his whole tongue inside of him. He looked down to see Dragon's massive jaws wrapped around his hips, his fangs just barely scraping his pelvis and mewled at the image. He was being voluntarily devoured by this massive creature and Jade couldn't get enough. His cock twitched and leaked on his stomach.

Jade watched as Dragon fucked him with his tongue. He gripped Jade's hips with both hands and started moving him roughly, effectively fucking Jade on his tongue. Jade panted and whined at the feeling of Dragon's tongue penetrating so deep inside him with no resistance. He felt so wet and open, ready to take anything Dragon would give him. Dragon was moving the tongue inside him, pushing on his walls and massaging him from the inside, constantly bullying his prostate and making Jade's cock leak on his stomach. Jade arched his back and wailed in pleasure as he was devoured.

Dragon's fangs and claws kept pricking his skin, leaving tiny pricks of pain before they healed over, driving Jade half mad. His hole kept twitching around Dragon's tongue as it got bullied open by the massive organ. Jade threw his head back as Dragon growled and yanked him on his tongue.

Jade felt the orgasm coming faster than he anticipated and didn't have enough time to warn Dragon before his vision whited out and he wailed, his body writhing as Dragon kept fucking him with his tongue, milking his prostate. His whole body twitched as Dragon prolonged his orgasm until Jade was whining in overstimulation. When Dragon finally let up Jade felt like he was floating. His chest was a mess of both of their come mixing together, his ass a leaking gaping mess and all he could think about was that he wanted more. He whined desperately, hoping that Dragon would understand.

Apparently he did, because Jade was repositioned to lay in the middle of the massive nest, arranged with pillows supporting his body, raising his hips. Dragon's massive form was bracketing him in, he was so big his front legs came down above Jade's head while his hind legs closed in Jade's raised knees. Jade looked down and saw Dragon's cocks drip a hot stream of slick down on his navel and shivered in anticipation.

His stretched hole twitched and leaked a thick drop of slick. Jade shivered at the new sensation as Dragon growled above him. Jade spread his legs as Dragon knelt down, twitching his hips as his cocks rubbed over Jade's hips and navel. Jade gasped as he truly saw the difference in size between his human cock and the two dragon cocks rubbing on him, leaving a wet trail after themselves. Dragon's cocks were massive, reaching above his navel and just one was thicker than anything he had ever taken. By the end of the night, Jade would end up with both of them inside him. He thrust his hips, rubbing his cock on Dragon's, and Dragon grumbled above him. He shifted back, trying to line himself up with Jade's entrance.

Jade shivered as he felt the cockhead of the bottom cock rub between his cheeks, only to miss his entrance. He whined in desperation as it happened again and Dragon growled in frustration. Jade reached down desperately and guided Dragon's cock where they both wanted it and on the next thrust of his hips, Dragon slammed his thick cock inside.

Jade arched off the bed as Dragon immediately pushed his whole cock inside, bullying Jade's hole to mold to the shape of his cock. Jade panted through his open mouth and groaned at being so full. The stretch hurt for a second before his body adjusted and opened up for Dragon, leaking more slick to ease the way. The cock filling him up was unrelenting and pressing on his prostate just by being inside him, it was so hot and pulsing, Jade could feel every shift and twitch with his sensitive walls.

The other cock was steadily adding to the mess on his chest by leaking precome all over him. Jade was hot all over - covered by the intense heat Dragon's massive body was giving off, covered in it by Dragon's leaking cock and had it inside him as Dragon's other cock pierced him and kept twitching inside him. Jade whined, grasping at the sheets. When Dragon bottomed out the top cock reached beyond his navel, almost to the middle of his chest, and pressed his own straining cock to his body in a hot press.

Dragon didn't give him much time to settle before he started up a fast and hard pace, fucking Jade's willing body. Jade was overwhelmed by pleasure, Dragon's cock was so deep inside him he could feel him in his throat, the bumps on the cock caught on his entrance on every thrust, teasing his rim and making Jade see stars. Jade arched his back and moaned, throwing his head back in overwhelming pleasure.

Dragon growled, a deep and satisfied sound as he continued to fuck Jade. "Smell so good. Smell like me, like mine. Going to fill you up so you always smell like this…" His cocks kept twitching and Jade mewled at the dirty words. He moved his hips with Dragon's thrusts, trying to get him deeper still, desperate to be filled to the brim.

"That's right, Treasure, move your hips, take me deeper. Perfect Treasure, like you were made for me." Dragon's words were mostly growls, his rut overtaking him fully. Jade whined in desperation, clawing at Dragon's front legs above his head. "Mine to have, mine to spoil, mine to fuck." Dragon accentuated every word with a rough thrust of his hips, spearing Jade on his massive cock and teasing his sensitive insides. His constant growls were washing over Jade, shooting electricity down his spine on every thrust. Jade nodded his head desperately, too far gone for words.

Dragon's thrusts slowed and got rougher. "Mine. To. Breed." The growls were surrounding Jade on all sides, and he whined desperately as arousal burned through his body, his cock twitching and spurting come. His body tried to tense with his orgasm, but couldn't, staying pliant and soft for Dragon's cock. His cock painted the underside of Dragon's cock with his come and twitched as Dragon kept moving, teasing Jade's overstimulated body.

Jade didn't have time to recover from his orgasm before he was flipped so he was on his hands and knees. He whimpered at the loss of Dragon's cock inside him, he felt so empty.

Jade whined into the sheets and spread his legs in invitation. Dragon's massive front palm settled on his shoulder, pressing his front to the bed as his back arched and his hips stayed up - presenting for Dragon. He could feel his empty hole leak slick and try to tighten around nothing. Jade felt so empty, he mewled at the feeling, desperate to have Dragon inside him again.

"So good for me, presenting so well. Your hole is desperate for me, so nice and wet, take one of my cocks so well." Dragon was rubbing the tip of his cock over Jade's winking entrance, but not pushing inside, driving Jade insane. He arched his back as much as he could, raising his hips in desperation. Dragon growled.

"Don't worry, Treasure, I'll give you everything you want. This desperate hole won't be satisfied with just one cock, isn't that right?" Jade nodded mutely, his whole world narrowed down to Dragon's purring words and his cock head teasing his leaking entrance. "Of course you want both of my cocks. Perfection…" Jade gasped as Dragon shifted and now there were two cock heads rubbing on his entrance.

Dragon slowly pushed both of his cocks inside. Jade panted as Dragon pushed the cockheads inside him and stopped, groaning at the feeling. He could hear Dragon panting above him, the massive body heaving with deep breaths as Dragon filled Jade's body. Jade clawed at the sheets as he whined on every breath, his body adjusting to the massive intrusion. He shivered in pleasure and pain and waited for Dragon to move.

Dragon went much slower this time and Jade got to feel every ridge of his cocks stretching his rim before popping inside. He was constantly moaning as Dragon kept steadily breaching him, the stretch neverending. Jade felt filled to the brim by the time Dragon bottomed out and stilled, a constant deep growl emanating from him.

Jade couldn't concentrate on anything else than how full he was. The massive cocks kept twitching inside him, teasing his sensitive walls and making his body stretch around them. Jade felt like his body would never go back to normal and shivered at the idea of being perfectly molded for Dragon, his body changing just to take his cock better. Dragon's cocks twitched inside him and Jade could feel the hot precome leaking inside of him, the cocks plugging him up so that nothing could leak out of him.

Jade was so full, his body stretched impossibly over the massive cocks. And yet, he wanted more. With a desperate whine, he tilted his head up as much as he could, searching. He found Dragon looking down on him already and met his eyes. "Please, D…" He couldn't find the words to say what he wanted, the cocks inside him frying his brain, but Dragon understood.

Dragon shifted, making them both groan and filled Jade's desperate mouth with his tongue. Jade relaxed and let himself be filled on both sides, floating in pleasure. The tongue inside him distracted him enough that he didn't notice when Dragon shifted again and started pulling his cocks out slowly.

Jade's body desperately clung to them, not wanting to let go. Jade sucked on the tongue inside his mouth and felt Dragon start to fill him again, painfully slowly. The cocks bullied inside Jade's body, making him twitch in pleasure as he relaxed into Dragon's ministrations.

When Dragon broke their kiss so Jade could breathe he settled into the sheets, letting Dragon fuck him how he wanted.

Dragon didn't stay slow and gentle for long and started desperately rutting inside Jade's body again. Dragon's thrusts were hard enough to move Jade's whole body with the force and soon enough Dragon had to press his shoulders into the bed with a heavy hand. Jade kept letting out desperate whines on every thrust, seeing stars every time the hooks at the base of Dragon's cocks hooked on his entrance before pulling out.

"That's right, you're doing so good, my Treasure. Going to breed you up, fill you up with my brood." Jade's eyes rolled back at the dirty words. "Won't stop until it catches, you'll be nice and round just from my come." His thrusts were getting more desperate, his cocks twitching deep in Jade's body. "Going to keep you riding my cocks for a week just to make sure it takes, wouldn't you like that? Always full of my come and cocks, nice and bred." Jade was moving his hips desperately on every thrust, his body moving on its own. There was precome and slick running down his thighs, the sound of their slapping bodies obscene.

"Yes, yes, please, D. Breed me, fill me up, give me your brood." He couldn't recognize his own voice, it was so breathy and desperate. His whole body was alight with pleasure, the cocks constantly rubbing on his prostate. His poor cock was tired, so sensitive it hurt when it slapped against his body with every rough thrust from Dragon, but Jade didn't care.

He moaned as Dragon growled, the sound deafening, and redoubled his efforts in fucking him. Jade couldn't keep up anymore and just let Dragon fuck him. He heard the sheets rip as Dragon sunk his claws into them and the smell of ozone got so strong it was dizzying.

With a few more rough trusts Dragon buried his cocks deep inside Jade and stilled, growling as he filled him up. Jade's tired cock dribbled a few drops of come as he came at the first hot splash of Dragon's spend spilling inside him. He panted and stayed still as Dragon kept growling and grinding his hips in circles as his cocks twitched and filled up Jade.

He could feel the hot come spilling inside him, going deeper and filling up his guts. Jade pressed a palm over his abdomen and whimpered at the bump and hardness there. Dragon's cocks were filling him up so deep, he might actually look pregnant after. Jade bit his lip.

He pressed his palm to his abdomen again, harder, and Dragon growled before his cock twitched and spurted more come inside of Jade. He stayed like that, pressing his palm over Dragon's cocks as he filled him up. Jade floated in the sensation of being filled to the brim, the heat surrounding and filling his body keeping him relaxed and dazed in pleasure. Dragon kept growling above him, a pleased sound as his hips jumped and ground on Jade's backside, shifting his cocks as he finished filling him up.

Dragon's cocks stayed hard and he didn't pull out even after he stopped coming inside Jade. Instead, he purred in satisfaction and shifted them so Jade was lying on his side, with Dragon lying behind him, almost covering him with his body.

Jade ran a hand over his abdomen again, feeling the cocks lodged deep inside him, and shivered at Dragon's pleased growl behind him. He felt dirty covered in so much come it was sticking like a second skin, but knew Dragon would not let him bathe until his rut was done. Some of the come on his body was already drying and flaking off from the heat coming off Dragon, but Jade would be covered in layers of it by the end of it. He didn't mind. Jade turned his face up for another kiss as he waited for another wave of Dragon's rut. He hummed around the slick tongue in his throat.

"You should get me on a breeding bench," Dragon growled and Jade felt the cocks inside him twitch again.

"I have one here somewhere…" Dragon didn't make a move to get up, so Jade just relaxed into the bed, taking the chance to rest before Dragon fucked his brains out again. 

Read on AO3

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Clingy 🔞 [Part 7]

In which Jungkook slowly tries to live again, which is a lot easier with someone as bright and full of life like you at his side.

Tags/Warnings: Hybrid AU, Wolf hybrid!Jungkook, Otter hybrid!Reader, Angst, strangers to lovers

Additional Chapter Warnings: Fluff, it's disgusting really

Length: short

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Throughout his life, Jungkook had always been a people-pleaser.

It's easier to just do as told than to make your own decisions, he's learned. Every choice made by himself bears the possibility of consequences he won't be comfortable with, after all. It's scary, even now, as an adult. But looking at you, he feels as if those consequences can't ever be worse than the idea of not having you at his side.

What are you at this point?

He's not sure because he's never truly asked you out, and neither did you. He knows he's pretty much clinging to you like glue, but do you feel the same way?

You're currently holding onto his arm like a lifeline, and he's come to learn that it's simply otter-behavior. Or at least he tells himself it's nothing more than that to not get his hopes up too high, or his emotions from overflowing. You just need something to hold on to, and he's conveniently an alpha wolf hybrid, known to emit a strong and calming presence.

"Oh, I love those!" You say, pulling Jungkook with you to the candy isle at the small food store. "I'm gonna stock up on those. I love chewing on them whenever I'm feeling like a pup that's going through teething again." You laugh, putting two bags of the hybrid snack into your basket before you hold onto Jungkook's arm again.

You're so effortlessly cute in his eyes.

"Have you talked to a dentist about that?" He wonders quietly. "There might be something going on if your teeth hurt." He asks, but you shake your head.

"No, they don't hurt-" you explain as you both walk past an elderly couple that stares after you with fond gazes. "-Its a mental thing, I believe. Like stress-relief!" You tell him, and he nods. He can understand that. When he was a pup, he went through phases like that too. It's interesting that you've not gotten over those phases yet it seems.

"Can I ask why you're so clingy with me?" He wonders calmly as you put all the things you want to buy out to be scanned by the young worker.

"Well, first of all I'm an otter, and we're just.. like that, I guess." You shrug. "And second of all, you're my boyfriend now, right?" You ask, gaze lifted up at him.

He blinks, once, twice, before he fully registers what you'd just said.

He's your boyfriend.

He's your boyfriend.

You're his girlfriend.

He doesn't know why that makes him turn a little red. Why it makes him shy of all things. He's an alpha wolf working in the adult companion industry. Or rather worked, past tense. Still. It's odd how.. nice it feels.

"Oh." He just says after a moment, nodding to himself. "I.. see." He mumbles, while you laugh next to him, squeaking in delight. "What?" He asks, and you just shove his body a little playfully.

"Nothing." You simply say, amused by his reaction.

Later that day, he finds you clinging onto him as you sleep at night like he's your lifeline, and this time, he knows it's not just instinct for you. You like him, enjoy his company for more than just pleasure, and he feels incredibly proud to be the one you chose to be with, despite his awkwardness and controversial past.

He wants to be his best version of himself for you, he decides, as he presses a quiet kiss to your head.

He's going to be the best mate ever.

[humbledragon669]

S1E3 – Hard Times Write Up P4 - London (1941) and Soho (1967)

So, was anybody actually fooled into thinking that our angel was really working for the Nazis in this scene? It was a little confusing at first I’ll grant you, but the moment we see him giving away books, particularly first editions, and especially first editions of books of prophecy, that should have given the game away to all and sundry. I do love how much Aziraphale is enjoying himself in this scene though, like it’s all just a big, exciting game that he’s winning at.

His use of the phrase “our side” is interesting to me, particularly if we take into account the conversation he has with Crowley about sides at the end of this episode. But I’m getting ahead of myself. In truth, I’m not sure whether he uses the phrase as part of his own Heavenly cover story or because he really does believe that his “side” is now with the Allies in the war. If it’s the latter, it would suggest that his allegiances sit more squarely with humanity in deference to Heaven at this point. That said, he very quickly switches to it being “your people” when he realises he has no control over the situation. I’d just like to take a moment to appreciate the extreme reaction we see on Aziraphale’s face at that point – it actually feels like it’s over-reacted to the point of falsity, but it’s clear from the following dialogue he was not aware he was being double crossed. I can’t help but laugh every time I watch this little clip:

Ah, what a surprise! Crowley has arrived to save Aziraphale at exactly the right time, despite not having seen or spoken to each other since their disagreement over the holy water in 1862 (as confirmed in the Script Book). It’s like he somehow knew exactly where the angel was and that he was getting himself into trouble… Not only that, he’s putting himself through some severe discomfort to come and save the day. (Side note: anybody else find the image of Crowley walking on a hot beach in bare feet extremely amusing?) Aziraphale genuinely appears surprised to see him, so as with Paris I don’t think he knew the demon was within his proximity - although there is a look of recognition on his face as he realises who it is walking down the aisle towards him (and what a cute image that is), his first question is to demand to know why he’s there.

Crowley is more than happy to declare that the ONLY reason he’s in that church is to stop the angel getting into trouble. No excuses, no stuttering, just a flat-out statement – I am here for you. I’d really like to think that we might get a bit of backstory about how Crowley is always in the right place at the right time for Aziraphale in season 3 – it’s just one of those little bits of canon I’d like to have more detail about (I know, I know: “what and see”).

I have to hand it to Crowley in this scene – he still has the dignity to be insulted at the suggestion that the Nazis are working for him even, not lose his temper that the suggestion has been hurled (rather thoughtlessly) at him by his only friend, and reiterate that his reason for being there is for Aziraphale, all whilst trying to preserve the skin on his feet. Having seen how quickly the demon can lose his patience (and temper), this feels like it would have taken quite an effort to achieve.

We find out two things from Glozier here: first, that Crowley is “famous”, presumably amongst the Nazis, though we don’t find out what he’s famous for. Whatever it is, it’s not so impressive that they’re not prepared to kill him. Second, that he has changed his name again – retaining the “Crowley” as a last name, implementing a first name (Anthony) and a middle initial (J). I’m sure I’m not the only one that enjoys the lovely bit of small talk that goes on between them both as Crowley hops around, as if discussing this bit of news were the only thing on either of their minds. I also love that the demon seems genuinely invested in whether Aziraphale likes his choice or not, and Aziraphale’s response that he’ll “get used to it” says so much about how he feels about their relationship at this point. He actually doesn’t look particularly impressed with the new name, and perhaps it’s telling that we never hear Aziraphale refer to him as Anthony (even though he did adapt the new name when it was changed from Crawly).

Crowley’s realisation that there’s a whole font of holy water, completely unguarded, serves as a poignant reminder of the previous scene, despite the fact that he’s still hopping around in a now vaguely irritating way. It makes me wonder if this is where he gets the idea that he can get hold of his “insurance” without Aziraphale’s help by robbing a church (as will be seen in 1967).

We’re back in the land of hidden communications in this next exchange:

This feels like the angel and demon partnership that we have, so quickly, come to love. Teamwork, understanding, and a little bit of sacrifice to achieve a common goal, without the need for explicit declarations of intent. It’s so very different from the strained conversation we saw in 1862, but this definitely feels like it’s a truer representation of their partnership.

I want to take a moment here to talk about something that feels inconsistent to me in the scene that follows the explosion. I had initially wondered about the fact that the ground no longer appears to be consecrated after the bomb has hit the church (Crowley has stopped hopping around like a madman), but having done some (very shallow) research it would appear that churches can only be considered consecrated if they are suitable for worship. Seeing as that bomb pretty much obliterates the building, I think we can probably declare the ground now deconsecrated. My brain however is focussed on that font of holy water. When the church was blown up, that font, including its contents, would have gone everywhere. And I mean, everywhere. There’s no way that Crowley was getting through that explosion without some of it getting on him, or something that he touches (like the book bag he’s about to tear out of a dead Nazi’s hand). I have supposed that there is a possibility that it would have evaporated in the heat, but I’m not sure that fixes the problem – water evaporated becomes steam and Crowley would likely have inhaled some of it. So we’re left with two possibilities here – either Aziraphale did something that would cover these eventualities in his own miracle or Crowley actually can come into contact with holy water. Not that he’d ever be able to test the latter theory of course, it’s a pretty deadly experiment for a demon to be carrying out. I think the former of the two possibilities is probably the right answer, even then it seems like a bit of a stretch – what exactly did Aziraphale’s miracle do?

Moving on, we have another instance of Aziraphale calling Crowley a name that the demon would not wish to have as a label – “kind”. And as with Paris, the reaction is a very different one from what we see from him at Tadfield Manor, this time simply attempting to brush it off but this time the exchange happens without his glasses.

Not only that, there’s a little smirk on Crowley face suggests he’s actually rather pleased with the outcome of his actions.

Aziraphale seems very humbled by Crowley’s intervention here too, which is not something we’re used to seeing from him. I suspect he knows that he was in genuine danger during the meeting with the Nazis and is well aware of what a huge favour he’s just been afforded. And I’m sure he’s probably thinking about how badly things ended between them the last time they met. He also knows that thanks and appreciation are not something that Crowley does, so tries to make light out of it pointing out the most trivial of the consequences that this act of kindness has granted him – the paperwork.

But Crowley’s not done with his gifts, is he? If we set aside the question hovering around how he even knew there were any of Aziraphale’s prized books to be rescued in the first place (no seriously, how does he know? Maybe he saw them on the table before Harmony bundles them into the bag in the church, but he doesn’t seem to be paying that much attention), there’s no doubt that this is probably the most thoughtful gift someone could ever give the angel. And Crowley knows it very well – the relish on his face when he knows he’s about to deliver something that will give Aziraphale so much joy is absolutely previous.

And here we are. You all know what’s coming. In fact, there has so much coverage been done of the rest of this scene, that I’m not even going to bother talking about it.

What kind of fan would I be if I didn’t gush about the finger touch and Aziraphale’s look?! I’m going to try not to spend too much time on it though, purely because it really has been talked about by every single person before me, and will continue to be discussed by many.

So, the things I love about this are everything the fact that neither of them flinches when their fingers touch (this despite us not having seem them physically touch in any of the previous historical scenes); that they establish and maintain eye contact for the touch; and (last, but most definitely not least) that Crowley actually lifts his thumb to stroke Aziraphale’s finger when their digits meet. Seriously, that last one really gets me – it says so much about his knowledge of his feelings and his intent with the saving of the books. In all honesty, I watched that GIF about 10 times before moved on with the rest of this write-up, this tiny moment genuinely makes my heart sing. I also happen to love the extreme nonchalance of Crowley asking Aziraphale if he wants a lift home, as if none of the previous 5 minutes has just happened. Side note: this will be the first time that Aziraphale will meet the Bentley. He likely doesn’t even know that Crowley has a car, so being asked if he wants a “lift home” will be a first in their 6000 years of friendship.

And then of course, there’s Aziraphale’s look as Crowley leaves the scene.

He’s so adorable isn’t he? Only finally realising how important he is to Crowley, and that the feeling is mutual, after he’s been handed a bag of old books prised from the hands of a dead Nazi. Silly angel.

So the first thing I’ll point out about this scene involves a bit of gazing into the future (as far as the series was concerned anyway) – the pub that Crowley meets his cronies in is the Dirty Donkey. Which means he was conducting this meeting directly across the road from Aziraphale’s book shop. And has probably been hanging around in the general area of Aziraphale’s book shop. Like, a lot. It’s never talked about (or not yet anyway) so we have no idea of how frequently Crowley is in the area or why he picks this particular pub to conduct his criminal activities from, but it’s certainly worth noting.

Let’s give David Arnold another tip of the hat for his treatment of the theme tune for scene setting. This time we hear it in the stripped back tones of a 60s guitar sound, not so dissimilar to Buddy Holly’s style (apologies, that’s another bit of future gazing, unless you’ve read the Script Book, in which case you’ll know that Buddy Holly should have featured very prominently throughout season 1). Holly actually died in ’59, but that doesn’t stop this piece of soundtrack doing what this soundtrack always does so beautifully – enhance the setting of a scene.

I also quite enjoy the fact that the format of this scene appears to mirror the one from 1941 – opening with just one of our heroes, who appears to be getting themselves into potential danger, with the other coming to rescue them. There’s also a symmetry in the giving of gifts – Aziraphale’s presentation of the holy water mirroring Crowley’s saving of the books. It’s a lovely way to communicate to the audience that we are meant to view them as equals, and that they balance each other out (just as Crowley says way back in the Kingdom of Wessex).

We shouldn’t be surprised that Crowley refuses to tell his “employees” what exactly it is they’re going into the church for – I should think they would consider there to be something highly suspicious about breaking into a church to steal holy water after all. And I would dearly love to know what it was that Shadwell spent time in prison for, I mean I know he’s a distinct oddbod, but criminal? I wouldn’t say he had it in him. And for the record, £300 (the amount being paid to each criminal to do this job) equates to about £5.5K in today’s money. Not a bad little earner.

Let’s talk geography for a moment, shall we? Specifically, I’m talking about the alleyway that Shadwell has squirreled himself away down. Which looks suspiciously like the alleyway that runs down the side of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death in season 2 (again with the crystal ball, I know. There is a point, I promise).

The picture doesn’t make it painfully obvious, but the ramp, steps, and barrier that you can see on the left-hand side of the alleyway are a match – 1967 on the left, season 2 present day on the right. Not only that, we get a glimpse across the street from the alleyway entrance when we see Crowley turning towards his car.

Knowing what we know about Whickber Street from season 2, the positioning of the Bentley would appear to be directly outside Aziraphale’s shop, though the shop fronts tell a different story. What would seem to confirm that Crowley has in fact parked his car directly in front of the angel’s shop is the entrance to the corner unit – again 1967 on the left, season 2 present day on the right:

Perhaps this is just “the magic of television” and the need to re-use the same set for multiple different settings for cost purposes. I’m not so sure about that, but it seems almost too obvious for Crowley to be hanging around Soho in such a blatant way if he was trying not to be seen by Aziraphale. After all, the angel has been in the Bentley in 1941, so would know what it looked like, and it’s not like they would have been a common car in 1967.

I also want to take a quick moment to consider that Shadwell is hanging around an area in London that is painfully at odds with his views on sex workers, as we see in the way he speaks to Madame Tracey later. Perhaps those views are established later in his life, maybe even as a result of his spending time in London’s Red Light District (or at least, it was in the 1960s).

If you didn’t know something was about to happen as Crowley opens the car door, you should perhaps feel a little ashamed of yourself because… it’s the magical miracle noise! We know it’s not Crowley doing it because we can see him getting into the car, so I think it’s fair to say we should be assuming it has something to do with Aziraphale before we see him on camera. What I don’t understand is why he apparates inside the car. Or possibly why he bothers to apparate at all – as he’s about to point out, he works in Soho so it would be easy enough to simply approach Crowley on the street at any time. Perhaps it’s to ensure that the demon can’t make a hasty get-away? That doesn’t make a lot of sense in the declared canon of the series at this point. However, it’s my belief (and that of most of the fandom I think) that something happened between them after the scenes we get to see of 1941. I also think Aziraphale got spooked by it and left sharpish (more of that in the 1941 apology dance fanfic when I get to it). If we take that as canon, Aziraphale’s cautionary tone and covert apparition, along with Crowley’s look of surprise and longing at Aziraphale’s appearance make a lot of sense all of a sudden.

It looks as if Aziraphale is really struggling to say what he knows he must here, and the way Crowley reacts when he realises that the angel knows exactly what he’s planning makes it pretty clear that he’s not exactly comfortable with the topic of conversation either. I actually find it painful to watch this whole conversation (and I don’t think I’m the only one, though it’s not as tough as some we’ll come to later in both seasons). From the subtle revelation of how much Crowley has taken Aziraphale’s refusal to provide him with the holy water to heart (seeing as he knows exactly how many years have passed since that disagreement), to the searching look Aziraphale gives Crowley after he hands over the thermos (almost as it he’s trying to memorise his face), and everything in between, this is the most emotionally available we’ve seen the couple being with each other. And it takes its toll on them both – Crowley is rendered speechless and Aziraphale almost in tears, breathing heavily to try and stave them off. The angel is making a personal sacrifice to ensure Crowley stays out of danger here and Crowley knows it. What really is there to say, other than “thank you”? Alas, Aziraphale draws the line there (in a vaguely symmetrical fashion to what we say in Paris, when he asks Crowley if he can say thank you for the rescue), so he has to come up with something else. It’s such a desperate little gesture too - the only thing that he can offer to show any sort of favour in return is to offer Aziraphale a lift.

There’s a little reflexive noise from Crowley in response to Aziraphale’s refusal of his offer that really does convey how disappointed he is, and for once the angel is paying attention. I suspect he tells him not to look so disappointed because he finds it very hard to deny Crowley anything when he knows he really wants something. He even offers an alternative, something with promise and future in it, something that sounds suspiciously like a date.

Perhaps one day we could… I don’t know… Go for a picnic… Dine at the Ritz…

Crowley’s not done though, he’s going to keep trying to string out this meeting as long as he can. Let’s just bear in mind that his offer to take Aziraphale anywhere he wants to go is rather a moot point – they’re in Soho, a very small area of London, which is where Aziraphale works and lives. Even if we ignore the fact that the Bentley appears to be parked within 6 feet of the door to the book shop, there really wouldn’t be any need to drive to get from one place in Soho to another place in Soho. As such, I think this offer is simply Crowley wanting to spend time with Aziraphale, and it’s something he wants so much that he almost pleads with the angel to reconsider the invitation.

Tiny side note: the bullet holes you can see in the driver side window are referenced in the book. They’re actually a sticker, tied to a James Bond film promotion. The only time Crowley has ever put fuel in the Bentley he did to get it.

Aaaaaand we’re here. At the line. You all know the one.

Hnnnnnnnnh.

The first time I watched this show, I was only half paying attention and I just thought he was talking about Crowley’s driving. It wasn’t until I rewatched prior to bingeing through season 2 that I realised he really isn’t, and I can tell you it hit me like a tonne of bricks. If we assume it’s likely they haven’t seen each other since 1941, which makes sense if we’re also assuming that something happened between them at that time, Aziraphale has only been in the Bentley once before this (well, maybe multiple times in one evening, but you get the drift). What’s to say that one experience was typical of Crowley’s driving? Decades have passed since that evening, so it’s not out of the question to consider that his driving style might have changed in that time. And why not just say “yes thank you, but do you think you drive a bit slower”? Or even for Crowley to offer to drive slower on his behalf? No, this heartbreaking line has nothing to do with the driving at all, and Crowley’s lack of resistance to it and look of resignation says he knows it but has no idea who to talk the angel down from his position. This scene ends in the Script Book with Crowly driving away and Aziraphale watching him go, but my head canon has given me a different outcome here (which fits with what we actually see in the show), which I’ll be writing a fic about in the future.

This one has run a little long (hardly surprising given that it covers the 1941 AND 1967 historical scenes). I toyed with the idea of splitting into two parts but that felt excessive, particularly given I still have to deal with, what I think, is the first of the ineffable divorces later in this episode. As always, questions, comments, discussion, all welcome!

[claiestve]

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐙𝐞𝐫𝐨 ꨄ Zaros

˜”* ❝'𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴢᴀʀᴏꜱ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

You were going on a walk to calm you down. The trials have stressed you out to a ton and you could not sit still. However, you wanted company. You knew how much he irritated and aggravated you with his little tantrums about how ‘spoiled’ you were but you couldn’t help but feel relaxed around him. He was the one person you could be yourself around. Even though your guard was always up, mask always on, he got to see a more truthful side to it. 

It didn’t take too long to find him as he visited his favorite areas. And there he was, reading in the grass. You couldn’t grasp how he felt so comfortable doing such and so openly, but it wasn’t time for you to judge, not now anyway. 

“I’m going for a walk to clear my head.” You say looking at him sternly. However, he seemed quite unbothered. He didn’t ask anything or say anything witty. He just sat there. 

“Have fun.”

“You don’t want to join me?” 

“Do you want me to?” He raised a brow, smirking. A stupid look that he always has on his face. It was utterly annoying but it did amuse you just a bit. 

You nodded to his ask and waited for him to get up. 

“You’re carrying the book around? Just leave it here.”

“I’d rather have it on me in case you try hurting me. Oddly, you would even want me to join you on this walk. Suspicious even. Are you planning on getting your competition out of the way early? That’s foul you know.” There he went with his blunt, arrogant, insufferable rants and accusations. 

You didn’t even care to indulge in him, you’d rather relish this peace. He must’ve noticed your unusual silence because he reciprocated it. Even though you were already a quieter person, often holding back, you’d snap back at him. 

“So, my Earis, what brings us here and on this stroll? You seem awfully peaceful and quiet today.” 

“Well,” You started hesitantly, “I know the trials have been utterly stressful, wouldn’t you agree?”

Zaros scoffed at your facade. He knew you weren’t as put together as you portrayed yourself to be. Unfortunately for him, you had no intention of arguing. 

“So you brought your rival on a stroll with you? That’s outright stupidity.”

“You’re free to leave, Zaros. You were invited to join me, not required.”

He stared at you in silence. Normally, he had a smart counterpoint but not this time. Not even one word no matter how bad he wanted to say it. For the first time, he was completely dumbfounded. 

“Apologies, I– the idea just confused me.”

You nodded in acceptance of his apology. Most of the time, you’d laugh at him for being so quickly flabbergasted; however, you didn’t have the energy for that. You didn’t have the energy to be as angry or snarky as you typically were. 

“But,” He started again, “You are very quiet today. Perhaps you want me to start the conversations?”

“That would be nice.”

“Ah, what am I most interested in asking you about today?”

“Please nothing that would make me feel guilty.”

The two of you laughed at that. It felt so odd but so right. After all, if a joke is funny, laugh. That was something you’ve taught him a long time ago. Around when you first met. Zaros wasn’t the best at expressing himself but you changed him completely. Whether that was a good or bad thing, you didn’t care enough to debate it. 

“Remember when we were learning how to skip rocks? Ah, you hated that. Always complaining about your hands being dirty and coming to me to help you clean them.”

“I remember that. I still loathe the filthiness of those rocks. I did turn to you a lot though, didn’t I?”

“Yes. Always going to me saying ‘Zaros, my hands are dirty again!’ I remember I would use my own clothes to wipe your hands and arms. I felt like your protector or some such.”

In a way, he kind of was. That’s how you used to see him. Oddly enough, that’s how he saw you too. 

He cleared his throat and walked closer to you, “That was when we were inseparable.”

You smiled at him, “The most free I've ever been.”

He looked at you in confusion. He knew you didn’t have the most freedom here but if anything, he thought you would enjoy it knowing your ‘standards’.

“You feel trapped here?”

“Not trapped, just very restricted.”

“Do you feel trapped right now?” Zaros asks, putting his hand on your shoulder, expecting you to push it off.

“No, not when I’m with you.”

You say as you keep his hand on your shoulder, enjoying his company. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

this was originally supposed to be an alex fic but... no! this was also going to go in so many different directions so it took me a minnn

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 25: [HOST] asmo / shopping trips

ao3 link

note: the symbiote is now nicknamed charlie, and i think that's all the extra info you need? also whoaa second to last!! one more and i'll finally have finished this (which i really should've have done ages ago shfbdjshf)

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

Asmo is - inarguably - an excellent shopper. He knows his brothers’ tastes, inside and out (not that he necessarily agrees with all of them, but he knows them). Certain brothers are easier to buy for than others, but he at least knows that, given a day, he can come back with something they’ll like - clothes, ornaments, or otherwise. Thus, it isn't a surprise that he’s put in charge of new clothes when the House of Lamentation first takes in its new ward.

It’s simple in the early days: find an old t-shirt, wash it well with a scentless detergent, then shrink it down to the size of a small smock. For IK, it seems comfortable and familiar.

She creeps out of the closet still clutching her old gown and stands there silently. Asmo resists the impulse to clap, and instead asks, “Comfy?”

IK doesn’t seem to know what he means. Moving slowly, he points to her, then to his own soft smile, then tilts his head to the side. After a moment, she nods.

“That’s enough for me,” He sighs, then stands up. “Alright, my darling. You’re doing great. Think you can come down with me?”

Every step up is slow, but it feels like they’re scaling mountains. Asmo spends a week stitching together a simple blouse and skirt, and hopefully leaves it in her room overnight. The next day, IK wanders out into the common room and asks him to help her do up the buttons. On the same morning, she lets him brush her hair.

Every occasion is momentous; every stride without fear is victory. In these conditions, it’s very easy for certain demons to gain false confidence when overlooking these precipices.

Two facts: first, Asmo is an optimist with confidence to a fault. Second, he’s just as capable as certain demons of making poor decisions on impulse.

IK’s first shopping trip is a disaster. Several weeks of excellent progress with forays into the outside world culminate in one impatient customer in a department store. They barge past in the shoe aisle and brush a little too close, a little too quickly, and just as quickly find themselves - and the entire store - surrounded down by a forest of angry black tendrils.

Another fact: Asmo has little sympathy for those who bring ill fortune on themselves. By the time Lucifer and Satan arrive to salvage the situation, Asmo is still berating the pushy demon for starting this whole mess in the first place. To be fair, Lucifer doesn’t help much, as he immediately falls to scolding Asmo, which leaves Satan to attempt to talk things out with an irate manager.

IK is just about the only one who comes out of the situation happy - Charlie, while still wreaking havoc for everyone else, has gotten rather good at self-soothing its skittish host. While Satan loses patience with the manager and begins shouting louder than everyone else, and while that poor pushy demon attempts to get either Lucifer or Asmo’s attention, Charlie leads IK through to the kitchen appliances section and begins happily destroying the place.

It takes longer than everything else to track IK down and remove several sharp instruments from the various extra limbs Charlie has sprouted. They discover in the aftermath that Charlie has also learnt to shoplift, which means IK comes away with a figurine from the front desk that Satan’s too irritated with the shop owner to return.

The bills afterwards are eye-watering. It’s a good thing Diavolo finds the whole escapade so amusing, or else they might never have been able to show their faces in public again.

It’s quite some time before Asmo’s brave enough to try again. So long, in fact, that IK outpaces him - she goes grocery shopping with the twins, accompanies Levi to one of his quieter pop-up cosplay events, and spends a day at a petting zoo with the angels. That terrified little baby hiding under a table feels more and more like the distant past, but for some reason… he’s still cautious.

There are just too many wild cards, and not enough contingency plans for them all. Sure, it’s been a long time since seeing a stranger has been enough to send Charlie into crisis mode, but impatient shoppers manage to set new lows every day.

It’s not about the clean-up afterwards. However brief it is, that flash of terror on IK’s little face always manages to break his heart all over again. It’s worth as many finger-pricks as it takes to avoid that, even if he has to stitch every little outfit by hand.

Still! There’s a first time for everything, but there’s also a second chance at everything. Nearly three months after that cataclysmic first trip, Asmo decides it’s finally time to try again. Redeem himself, so to speak.

They’ll go around some quieter local stores, instead of big chain outlets like the one from last time. Solomon’s had success showing IK around second-hand witch shops and apothecaries, and he knows from Satan that she likes the old shoe-maker down the street from the cat cafe.

Clothes aren’t as much of a concern now that he’s gotten the hang of sewing, but there’s lots more to see. The issue is that IK makes it so difficult to tell what she actually thinks of anything - it doesn’t help that, in all her practising of her smiles, she’s also learnt the Polite Smile. (Asmo’s not sure from who, but he has his money on Simeon.)

“Darling,” He says worriedly when IK nods obediently to the seventh ribbon in a row. “You know you can tell me if you don’t like something.”

She thinks about this for a while, then announces, “I don’t like beetroot.”

“That’s di— I mean, beetroot’s good for you, darling.”

“It looks like chopped blood.”

He sighs. “...never mind. That doesn’t matter. I mean, you can tell me if you don’t want all this stuff.”

“Charlie likes ribbons,” IK says. “They’re fun to rip up.”

Maybe we need to get some dog toys for it. “And what about you, darling?”

IK looks a little lost. A moment passes without a response, and Asmo sighs.

“Alright,” He says after a moment. “We’ll get the ribbons for Charlie. But promise you’ll tell me if you see something you like, okay?”

“Okay,” says IK, still looking gently puzzled. But she seems happy enough when he pays for the ribbons at the counter.

…it’s easy to forget how many more steps there are to go. It wasn’t all that long ago that she was confounded by smiling - though this isn’t quite the same thing.

Charlie likes everything from clacky hair-clips to lollipops with a fizzy centre. IK doesn’t like scratchy jackets or heavy bracelets. It’s hard to tell who’s talking - where one ends and the other begins.

“But what do you like?” Asmo asks what feels like a hundred times, and each time she looks as if he’s asked her a stupid question.

“I like blankets,” She’ll say, and he’ll find a fluffy patchwork quilt. IK will run her hands over it inquisitively, then nod and say, “Charlie loves it.”

He asks again and again, and each time there’s a new answer. “I like riding on Beel’s shoulders.” “I like Simeon’s cakes.” “I like Mammon.”

And he asks again after they leave a haberdasher with several spools of brightly coloured thread. IK must be thoroughly sick of him by now, but she answers valiantly, “I like Momo.”

Momo is her toy panda. Asmo had bought it on his way home from some promotional event, and she’s loved it ever since. Momo is named after Asmo, because IK loves both of them.

Asmo pauses. IK is almost stumbling on her feet. They’ve been browsing for ages - he’s been so determined to find something IK loves, and not Charlie.

“It’s late, isn’t it?” He asks apologetically, and reaches down to carry her, swapping all his bags to one arm with ease. “We should go home.”

IK doesn’t seem to hear him. She answers his first question again, face scrunched as if working hard to remember, “I like Levi’s jellyfish. I like my room.”

“I know, I know…” For some reason, he feels like crying. “You’re tired, huh? Come here, come here…”

His arms are definitely going to complain tomorrow morning, but for now he can hold everything up without much thought. IK clings to him and continues listing, “I like tea parties. I like the Little Ds.”

“That’s enough, sweetheart,” He murmurs, turning onto the main road to start heading home. If anyone tries approaching him, he swears he’ll snap. “I know.”

IK finally goes quiet. She lays her head on his shoulder, inadvertently poking her little horn into his neck. It already feels like there’s something lodged in there, so it doesn’t make much difference.

“I like this,” She says after a moment. “I like you. And Charlie likes you. Okay?”

He pauses in the middle of the street and earns a few side-eyes from the demons around him.

“...okay,” He whispers. “That’s enough for me.”

[milky-fixx]

cursed

wanderer x reader // genshin impact  700 words // hurt / comfort truly the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written. 

“I think I’m cursed.”

The Wanderer pauses his stride. Looking back, he finds you seated before the bank of Devadaha Pool, staring out at the waters of Sumeru. He frowns, a tad disgruntled that he didn’t sooner that you’d fallen behind. As he approaches you, he notes your position--knees pulled up to your chest, hands clasped over your ankles. Your gaze is fixated on the lily pads floating across the water, your expression inscrutable. 

You look vulnerable.

His mind is racing with possibilities to explain your current state. But then he replays your words. “A curse?” His voice darkens, reminding you all too well of just how dangerous he can be. “Who would dare curse you?”

Your eyes widen, glancing up swiftly. “No! Not that kind of curse. Put that away!” You gesture at his catalyst, which he brought out at the first hint of trouble. Begrudgingly he does so, glancing at you with suspicion.

“Explain,” he demands.

“I just…” Your shoe nudges into the wet soil before you, watching idly as a crab, unearthed, scurries by. The Wanderer catches himself from a cross remark (”Are you intentionally ignoring me?”) when he realizes--you’re hesitating. He crosses his arms over his chest, shifting his weight onto his other leg. He can wait.

“Bad things always seem to happen to me. It’s like I’m a magnet for misfortune,” you say ruefully, toeing the sand once more. 

“It’s hard not to feel dragged down by everything. And… I worry. I worry people tire of me. I worry that my negativity pushes everyone away. That my mood is like a black hole that sucks up all the joy around me. I worry that I’m exhausting everyone I care about,” you finish. Your hand comes up to cradle your chin, gazing thoughtfully at the soil before you. As if it holds the answers to your problems.

Your companion remains quiet. You don’t expect him to say anything, of course. It’s the first time you’ve ever voiced some of the concerns plaguing you. 

To your surprise, he leans down with a huff, sitting next to you on the bank.  His legs crossed, he leans back against his arms, his hands planted firmly into the sand.

“…How foolish. I’m still here, you know.”

“What?”

“You said ‘everyone.’ But I’m still here.”

He gazes out at the waters himself, mulling over your words. He could relate to the feeling, in a way. His life up until this point was defined by betrayal. By his creator, by Dottore, by the boy from Tatarasuna who caved to his human mortality. But Scaramouche fashioned himself as someone who wreaked havoc, rather than had havoc wreaked upon him. Rather than mope over the events that had led him to that point, he preferred to take action.

Revenge.

Those who had caused misfortune to befall him would regret the day they crossed him. That he could assure. 

At least the old him. The Wanderer’s anger had died down to a mere flickering ember. One that could be tempered by contemplation. Or, if that failed, by sending a few vortexes of compressed air towards his enemies, banishing them from his sight. 

But you... You aren’t like him. He glances back at your position. Curled in on yourself, hiding away from the harshness of the world. And he remembers himself once doing so, back when he was a fledgling creation. Before innocent, wide-eyed Kabukimono knew about the cruelty of the world he was thrust into.

His attention drifts back to the waters before you two. Flowing uninterrupted, despite whatever hardships the world threw at it.

“Do not think of yourself as a curse or the cursed. Because if that were true... then my life wouldn’t have turned out for the better after I met you.”

“I will stay by your side,” he says, catching your eye. “After all...” A hint of amusement creeps into his tone. “You can’t curse me if my existence has already been shunned by the gods.”

“But if the time comes where someone dares to spite you… Hmph. Well.” He laughs humorlessly. “They’ll find I’m not quite as forgiving as you.”

It’s as much of a promise as he can offer. To curse at the world that’s cursed you. 

[semidea7]

First Impression (Huskerdust, Fizzarozzie)

"You know, I was honestly surprised when you told Fizzie about your boyfriend." Asmodeus put his now empty drink back on the table, facing the spider demon. "I can't lie, we were actually a bit worried. We didn't know what to expect." The Sin kept going, his tone way less panicked and concerned than the one Angel had heard on the phone the previous day.

Angel smiled, quite amused by his words. He directed his gaze to Fizzarolli and Husk, who left to order a second round of shots, but were actually engaging in a conversation.

"And now that you've seen him?" Angel asked, eyes still on the two shorties ahead of them, his voice cracking a bit despite his smile. Asmodeus could not know how much Angel valued his judgment, or how much he trusted him.

He had made the mistake to not listen Asmodeus once, and now Valentino had his soul. He would never repeat the same mistake twice, not even regarding foolish matters.

Asmodeus cared for the sinner as well, almost in a paternal way, especially since Angel had grown so close to his Froggie.

"We never meet your dates in a place other than a club." The big demon smiled, leaning with one arm on the table, while only gaining a puzzled look from Angel.

"Yeah, so what?" The sinner asked, not sure what was Asmodeus' point. "Husk likes drinking, but he's not a party person. He prefers a more quite setting where people can actually talk." Angel shrugged, watching over his boyfriend, noticing the smile as the cat tried to follow Fizz's expression and quick talking, the latter looking rather comfortable, which only made Angel's heart flutter.

"Valentino does not know about him, does he?" Asmodeus asked again, his smile still there, but his tone slightly more serious. "I mean, it's clear it's not one of his clients."

'He actually treats you like a human being and does not costantly lash on the money spent on you,' the demon would have added, but Angel's widened eyes already confirmed his suspicion, so there was no need to bring back bad memories.

Angel sighed, finally taking off his attention from Husk, a hand on his cheek, as his smile vanished completely. "I can't let Valentino know about him." He spoke, the anxiety and fear clear in his demeanour and in his words. "I don't know what he could do. So please, don't let him know anything, mh?" the spider asked.

Asmodeus knitted his brows in confusion, and if he didn't know it was just Angel's anxiety speaking, he would have actually got offended.

"Of course I ain't gonna do anything that dumb, sweetheart." The Sin shook his head, sighing. "But are you sure you don't want me to do something for Valentino?" Asmodeus leaned close to Angel, whispering to him.

The spider immediately shook his head, quick to react. "We've already talked about this, of course not!" he looked at him with a stubborn expression.

"You already do so much, always checking on me sending him those threats-"

"But if they don't fucking work!" Asmodeus found himself shouting louder, fists on the table, as the bar grew silent. The Sin's rage was soon replaced by embarassment, especially when his boyfriend came by his side.

"Hey, Ozzie, everything alright?" Fizzarolli asked, cupping his boyfriend's cheeks, as the bigger demon nodded.

Husk was quickly behind Angel as well, his hands on the spider's shoulders, drawing circles on his fur by using his fingers. "What were you talking about?" the cat demon asked, sensing there was something wrong.

At that, Angel and Asmodeus exchanged a look, before both of them laughed. "You got us waiting too long, you mean teases!" Asmodeus cheerfully said, pullying Fizzarolli close to him, taking the imp off guard as he also found himself chuckling.

"We were about to get impatient." Asmodeus kept going, as Fizzarolli rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please, we've left for five minutes." The clown tilted his head, before finding himself accepting a quick peck on his lips.

"Still too long." Asmodeus whispered in that soothing voice of his, making Fizzarolli sweeten his smile.

On the other hand, Husk didn't seem that convinced - Angel knew that by the way his boyfriend was trying to analyze him, as he'd usually do - but he let it slide, shrugging as he sat near Angel, whose eyes lightened up as the cat did so.

"Ya know, this guy is the coolest!" Fizzarolli said, pointing at Husk, before stopping his talking to take the new drinks the waiter brought them, sliding them to the others. "He said if I wanted he could teach me how to play poker." The imp happily said, as Angel returned the smile.

"I mean," Husk accepted Angel's hand as it found his paw, "It's pretty strange you never picked up on the rules while working for the Sin of Greed." Husk pointed out, making Fizzarolli exhale an exhasperated sigh.

"Please, do you think he'd ever let me do something fun while working for him? Hell, no, that bastard" The imp shook his head, looking down as he gripped the glass more tightly.

"Well, it's good you cut ties with him. And I'm glad I met you in person, you aren't as dumb or stuck-up as you appeared in public." Husk went on, looking annoyed as he received a light pat from Angel, who looked quite pissed.

"Did you fucking have to tell him that?" the spider whispered embarassed, before both Asmodeus and Fizzarolli found themselves laughing.

"No, no, it's alright, he's only speaking facts, doll. At least I'm glad you changed your mind on me, cause I kinda like you too, Husk!" Fizzarolli replied, shooting a knowing grin in Angel's direction, the spider rolling his eyes as he smiled at his friend.

"It's just- we didn't expect to see someone like you when Angel suggested to meet up." Asmodeus admitted, cracking a nervous chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck. "How can I say..." he started to gesture, as if to find the right words, before Fizzarolli chipped in with an unamused expression. "Yeah, he usually goes out with dickheads with a dick bigger than their brain, who give dick, but are also dicks, ya follow me?" the imp asked, as Angel narrowed his eyes at him.

"What? I was complimenting you! You certainly upgraded your standards!" Fizzarolli raised his hands defensively, as Husk's smirk only widened at the interaction.

"If Angel does not, I'll accept the compliment for him." The cat demon looked at his boyfriend, as Angel let go of his hand. "Oh, fuck off, as if I've ever wanted to date those idiots in the first place." He crossed his arms, as Fizzarolli commented something about him always having to be a fucking drama queen.

As Fizzarolli started to shame Angel's exes one by one and the spider kept bickering with him in return, Asmodeus interrupted the argument. "I genuinely hope you stay together for a long while" the Sin said, feeling warm as he looked at the nice picture that Angel and Husk made. "I love the way you two look at each other. It's...I'm sorry, I don't even know how to prhase it" Asmodeus added, sniffing as he was staring to feel a bit emotional.

The Sin of Lust saying such romantic things as if he was a school girl? Husk surely found it weird, but at this point, he knew better than to judge someone by their title.

And of course, this was just their first night out, more time had to pass before Asmodeus would tell Husk about how much of a failure he'd felt anytime he couldn't help with relieving Angel's pain, anytime the spider could only receive empty advice from him, anytime he couldn't save Angel from a new heartbreak...the same feel of shame when he couldn't do anything for his lover working for that bastard of Mammon.

Fizzarolli kissed Asmodeus' cheek as the Sin's lip started to quiver, as he was silently muttering swears. Angel took Asmodeus' hand, holding it alongside with Husk's, exchanging a brief, sweet look with him.

Angel sighed, leaning his head on Husk's shoulder, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He felt a kiss on his forehead, so he opened his eyes to see Husk looking down at him, while Fizzarolli was sweetalking Asmodeus at the other side of the table, trying to calm the big demon down.

"Does this mean I made a good first impression?" Husk whispered, his smile and his voice softening as he was holding who for him was the most precious being in the world. Alongside with these dorky, adorable new friends, of course.

Angel raised his head, smiling in return, nodding contently. "You did a great job, darling, thank you." He answered, kissing Husk's knuckles, a wicked smile forming on his face. "They seem to truly adore you." He addes, pointing to Asmodeus and Fizz, not taking his eyes away from Husk.

"So, you can already start thinking of your reward, baby~" the spider whispered, as Husk playfully rolled his eyes, shaking his head, giving another kiss to Angel's forehead. His boyfriend was really something else, but since Husk was a mess as well, he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take the offer once we are back to the Hotel, alright?" Husk smiled, taking Angel's chin, gently holding it.

"Ya know, I can come up with some suggestions for ya! Bet you still don't know how many kinks-"

"Fizz, fucking no!"

[queensilber]

Supernatural: Nevermore

Review time! I actually finished reading this a while ago and just didn't get around to posting the review, but here you go!

.

Summary:

Sam and Dean go to New York to help a friend of Ash with a ghost problem. Said friend is a rocker with a music collection that Dean totally freaks over (further down in this review I have a songlist of the mentioned music, too) and they get to stay at that guy's place while taking care of the problem. There is also a murder spree based on the works of Edgar Allen Poe going on in the area and the boys are solving two cases parallelly.

My experience:

I loved this. It was so fun, the vibe was great, i had a great time! This is actually the first book in the series and I should have read it before witchs canyon, but it doesnt matter too much.

Also, the book starts on a 12th of november, wich is my birthday, so thats cool.

Music list:

Okay, so, because of the plot with the Band, there is a LOT of music in this. I‘m now just and only gonna list the things Dean either has on tape or said that he loves it. Some are songs, some are Bands and some are albums, its listed chronologically after appearance rather than what it is… (sorry)

Deep purple „smoke on the water“

Metallica

Led Zeppelin "Whole lotta love"

Van Morrison "Caravan"

Jethro Tull "For a thousand Mothers"

"Cocaine"

"Ramblin' man"

"Rock on"

"Freebird"

Queensrÿche "Operation Mindcrime"

Dark side of the moon

the Animals

House of the holy

Dressed to Kill

The who "by Numbers"

"Thick as a brick"

"in-a-gadda-di-vida"

the Big Pink

Great so let's continue,

Quotes and Random Facts

"Then again, Sam sometimes thought he didn't have the same attachment to his late girlfriend Jessica that Dean had to the Impala"

"In fact, Sam's skills at lying - both in therms of pretending to be someone else and also misleading people as to the true nature of his life and of the world itself - had been one of the things that attracted him to the law" < in reference to why he studied law at Stanford.

"Squirming in the passenger seat, Sam thought, 'I swear to god, if he starts petting the Dashboard again, I'm walking to New York" < in reference to Dean and the impala

there is also a reference to Sherlock Holmes and my post-it to that was like "Superwholock?" so yea, do with that as you will.

Sam and Jess once went to San Fransisco and did all cute tourist stuff there.

"Cassie was a Subscriber" < Dean telling Sam why he know stuff about animal magazines. he is referring to Cassie Robinson.

"He loved his brother more than anything in the world" < Dean about Sam

Dean had nightmares about people burning on ceilings like his mom did and those people were: Mary, Jessica, Cassie, Sarah, Ellen, Jo and Sam.

"Sam (...), he'd drunk hot sulfur once, by accident during a job, and he wasn't eager to repeat the experience."

"'I assume you took so long 'cause you were hitting on the bartender' he grinned. 'He didn't strike me as your type.'" < Sam about Dean, referring to the male bartender. Deans answer: "Funny boy."

"Dean looked over at his brother. Now he had on his instant face. Dean hated the insistent face, because Sam only used it when he was arguing with him. As opposed to when he argued with Dad. That was always the angry face"

Sam likes Gin and Tonic. Dean is appalled by that.

"Sam looked at Dean. Without any sign or facial indication, Sam knew that his brother agreed they should check upstairs next"

Dean just takes random pictures of Sam sleeping

John actually signed all the paperwork Sam needed to go to Stanford for the first year and Sam got them to declare him independent for the next years. Dean is in absolute shock over that and so am I. that conversation is too long for me to put in all in here, but damn it made me cry.

"'my life is seriously screwed up', he thought with amusement" <Dean, obviously.

"When he was a kid, about eleven years old, he used to go looking for cars that had 'no Radio in car' signs on them. He'd take a removable radio, of a type that was very popular at the time, and throw it as hard as he could at the car window with a note wrapped around it that read 'Now you have one'" < I love Dean so much

Dean hates rubber gloves

"'I just love Mexican Standoffs,' Dean thought"

Sooo that's about all I got for you about this book, can highly recommend it, it was better than Witches canyon, even though I liked that one too very much.

I will link the next one, once I'm done with it!

<First , Next>

[delta-pavonis]

Last Line Tag Game x4

I have had FOUR people tag me in this game in the past few weeks but my life has been categorically WACKYDOODLES so I am just getting to this now. And SINCE it has been so long since I posted a single slim word, here is one blurble for each tag. @tj-dragonblade, @tryan-a-bex, @zzoomacroom, @moorishflower thank you for the tags!! In return I tag... anyone who is excited about A Thing and wants to share! I want to know what y'all are working on that you are excited about! ALL OF YOU!! BWAHAHA. From a still untitled Castlevania: Nocturne (blame @dancinbutterfly for pointing me towards Olrox fic) Olrox/Adrian WIP that is fanfic of the fanfic Until the Sun Rises Again by @ifishouldvanish:

He decides to deflect, smirking as he looks at Adrian through his lashes. “Are you asking me about vampires who I have taken as lovers? Bold move. Considering applying to join their ranks?” One golden eyebrow arches. Something flashes in those keen eyes as he lets the silence stretch. Olrox feels the temperature of the air change when Adrian makes a decision, a fraction of a second before he responds. “Apply? I thought I was already offered the position.” The surprise alone makes Olrox throw his head back and laugh, a burst of deep amusement the likes of which he has not felt in far, far too long. Adrian sits with a smirk clear in his eyes as Olrox lets his laughter peter off naturally. When he is done he tilts his head to the side, studying the beautiful, witty thing before him with simmering desire coursing through his veins.  Throwing caution to the wind, Olrox leans forward and grabs Adrian’s hand, brings the bone-white fingers towards his lips, and enjoys watching the dhampir’s pupils dilate. “That you were. And the offer stands for there are so many different positions you could fill.” Something dangerous glints in his eyes and then, with a twist of his wrist, Adrian is holding Olrox’s chin in his hand and pressing the nail of his thumb into the vampire’s bottom lip. He doesn't gasp, not quite, but he does freeze, entranced by this turn of events. “So you agree that I would be the one doing the filling, do you? Pity,” the nail, sharp as a razor, slides sideways and brings up the smallest drop of blood. “I had rather hoped there would be a struggle over it.” Olrox inhales sharply and stares. This is it. This is the fulcrum, the turning point. He can taste it.

Now three Dreamling WIPs... which I will put under a cut because not a single one of them isn't filthy, first two more than the last. CW for D/s relationships, edging, fisting (and mention of some extreme versions at that), charity auction for a date with a person, concerning lube choices, semi-public sex in the back of a car

From the next fic in the museum curator Dream/doctor and TikToker Hob series, currently titled Special Exhibition, where Hob ended up fisting Dream before Dream got up to ride him:

“Another night you’re gonna come like this, with half my arm buried in you,” Hob looks up and meets Dream’s heavy-lidded, lust-fogged gaze with his own. “But not tonight.” He pulls his hand out, slowly, with some extremely loud protest from Dream, but then grabs the lithe man by the waist and rolls them so he is laid out on his back with Dream straddling him. The leather chaps creak with the quick movements. “Now take what you need, my sweet Dream.” Dream growls greedily, teeth bared, as he maneuvers himself over Hob's hips. “Gladly. Though you may soon rethink the suitability of the adjective sweet.” He howls when he seats himself onto Hob's cock then immediately starts seeking his pleasure, riding Hob fast and hard, changing angles and rolling his hips until he finds the spot that forces all the air out of his lungs all at once with a deep groan. Dream repeats the motion, slamming himself down faster and harder on each pass until he is making one constant warbling noise. 

It’s hot and slick and not goddamned enough. Dream is busy using Hob’s cock to pound his prostate into oblivion, without a care for the fact that he is so deliciously open his hole isn't actually giving Hob much to work with at all. He is held hard by the ring around the base, but otherwise it is a maddeningly teasing glide of heat around him. Dream is hard and leaking and Hob watches as his spine arches and Dream… doesn't come. He has his long fingers wrapped tightly around his cock, squeezing out a noise of frustration. “Gonna edge myself on you, baby. Use you to drive myself to insanity. Only after I’ve had my fill am I going to take that ring off you. Maybe then I’ll be tight enough to provide stimulation for you.” Sweet Christ.

This is from bury me with my guns on, the WIP I have where Hob is former mafia doing a fishbowl rescue with his former lover (my OC Sandro). Dream is having post-fishbowl touching people issues and Sandro has the bright idea that Dream should instead tell Sandro what to do to Hob, to act through Sandro. They've just finished that scene and are playing with the idea of Dream calling Sandro "his tool":

“Anything you ask of me,” tumbles out of Sandro's mouth before he can think better of it. “I know every sexual fantasy of every human who has ever dreamt upon this Earth.” His eyes are heavy-lidded, smoldering. “There is a terrible variety of things I could ask of you.”  “Hob knows better than you my willingness to comply… to obey.” He can’t help but smirk. Dream’s expression darkens further. “You wish to be tested?” Sandro can tell that Hob is going to interrupt, so he speaks loudly and quickly. “You said you wanted to see what I am capable of, yes?” “Sandro, don’t–” “Then I will see you take Hob’s fist,” Dream practically purrs. “And then his arm. To the elbow.” Sandro is pretty sure he blacks out for a minute at the thought. When his awareness returns Hob is soothing him as if he is a scared animal. “Please, my bird, you don't have–” “I have never wanted anything more.” Hob's mouth snaps shut and he stares at Sandro. “Do it, my love. I would have you fuck me wider and deeper than I have ever been. Show Dream his naming me his tool is not misplaced.” He grinds in Hob's lap. “And perhaps, if I am Dream’s tool, I am his substitute, then if you do well enough with me, you will be allowed to do the same to Dream himself? One day?” Hob goes deathly still and just his eyes slide to Dream, who has gone even more lax in his corner of the couch.  “Hmm,” he runs a hand down his black T-shirt clad chest, down his abdomen, and it cuts the fabric as it goes, opening it like he pulled a zipper. “The fae folk call me the Shaper of Forms. It would be of little consequence for my body to accept both of Hob's arms up to his biceps if he wished it be so.” The cry that emerges from Hob is the sound of a man going insane.

Last is from a brand new WIP inspired by an ask that @gabessquishytum answered that my brain took in a totally different direction, including flipping who is on the auction block... for context Hob and Dream knew each other in college and Hob is now the increasingly popular host of Britain's Favourite Dancer, who is up for "auction" as a fundraiser. Dream bidding an obscene amount for him is the first time they have seen each other since Dream promised he would come back to Hob 15 years ago. They barely make it to Dream's car out back.

Dream is pulling Hob out of his suit with ruthless efficiency, clothing being flung all over. He’s down to his skivvies when Dream’s shirt is finally coming off and Hob cannot help but boggle even as he is wriggling out of his underpants. “Holy hell, when did you get all this, dove?” Hob’s got his boxer-briefs around one ankle and that will have to do because he refuses to take his hands away from all the dark chest hair that has just been revealed to him. Pale skin takes on a charming blush everywhere Hob touches. “I… used to wax. Thought you,” Dream groans and leans into Hob’s hands, “I thought you preferred it.” Hob stops his roaming hands and brings them very deliberately up to frame Dream’s angular face, forcing eye contact, which only makes the man above him blush more. “I should have been clearer then. I prefer you. It doesn’t matter what it is or how it looks: if it is you or yours, that is what I want.” Dream is kissing him in an instant, with a lack of finesse and hungry teeth, as he shucks off the rest of his clothing. “Then there's no question that you want to take my cock.” He says that as he settles between Hob's thighs, presses both their pricks together with one of his hands. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” Hob arches into it, voice high-pitched and thready, eyes slamming closed. “But if you keep twisting your hand like that I’m gonna come before you get to the main event.��� Fuck. Dream’s hand actually speeds up. “Good. I could use something other than spit to finger you open with.” Hob doesn't even try to contain the moan that image draws from him. “Then I am going to fuck you until you’re hard again. Might take a while. Maybe until the benefit auction lets out around us. Can you imagine that? You never were a quiet lover… you know that I can make you scream loud enough for passersby to hear. Think they would recognize your voice, hoarse with pleasure? I can see the headlines now, Beloved TV Host Out on Medical Leave–Railed to Within an Inch of His Life.” Hob would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't busy coming harder than he has in the past decade. 

[simply-un-well]

first fic after lurking for literally forever, with my two little ocs !! also, my requests are open if people have any :)

-

Jason grumbled from where he was walking next to Blake. Out of every single person on the team, he was partnered with him. The coaches must hate him or something.

It's their annual team trip to the amusement park. Normally would have been a great time with his friends and everyone, but then he had to get stuck with the most stuck-up person on the team; Blake.

"I don't see why we can't just split up," Jason mutters. His posture is slumped, arms tucked into the pockets of his pants.

Blake sighs in response to the third time in the last five minutes those words have been uttered by Jason's mouth. "Again, we were told to stick by one teammate in case of an emergency."

There's silence for the next few moments before Jason sighs, loud and dramatic. Blake's mouth twitches like he's trying to hold back a snarky comment before an uncomfortable silence spreads between the two of them.

People are screaming and chattering in the background as the two of them walk in complete silence.

"Sooo…" Jason starts, unable to stand the awkward tension, "Do you want to ride anything?" He's pointedly not looking at Blake, trying to spare himself the awkwardness.

"No." It's blunt and straight to the point.

"Why not? I bet you're scared," Jason scoffs. "A coward who can't even go on a rollercoaster." It's an obvious bait, but even then…

"The fuck? No, I'm not." Blake's striking glare is trained on him. Jason's got his full attention now.

Pleased with his reaction, he smirks. "No, you're scared. Why would you not want to go on a ride then? Huh? It's cause you're a scaredy cat, isn't it?"

Blake's face pulls back into a slight scowl. "If anything you're scared. I could probably ride twice as many rides as you."

Pulling away to face him, Jason crosses his arms. Blue eyes staring at Blake, he grins. It's nothing like his normal happy-go-lucky smile. Closer to the one they get when they're competing against each other during practice. "That sounds like a challenge to me."

There's a brief stare-off before Blake dips his head into a nod. "Fine, how many roller coasters can we both ride until we have to leave or one of us quits."

They both stand there, frowning at each other before rushing off towards the closest coaster. It's a small one, with minimal twists and turns, a basic start. The line is thankfully short, so they both end up running through it quickly.

From there they do rollercoaster after rollercoaster, working their way through the park. They have three more left, putting them off due to the cue.

Blake's stomach started feeling off around the sixth rollercoaster they went on, but there was no way he was going to let Jason know about it. He'd make it into an absolute joke. Given that they've been going at each other's throats since high school and it's only escalated since they both ended up in the same University.

His stomach gives an unhappy twist and he ducks his head to the side, swallowing. Hopefully, Jason didn't notice that odd movement, he doesn't need more ammo to tease him with.

Subtlety, Blake awkwardly wraps his arm around his stomach as it churns. For someone who's never been to an amusement park before or rode on any rollercoasters, in hindsight, he probably should have been more careful. While he's never gotten motion sick in a vehicle before, there's a stark difference between a car and a coaster that flips you upside down.

As if to curse his luck, Jason looks at him oddly. "You know, it's not too late for you to drop out? No shame in having me win this competition."

Gritting his teeth, Blake scowls even more. "No."

"Fine. I gave you a chance." Jason shrugs, looking smug with himself. Blake wants to throttle him.

Unfortunately, or rather fortunately in Jason’s case, he doesn't get a chance to do so when the next cart comes in, and the ride attendant beckons for them to take a seat in the cart.

Gulping nervously, Blake follows Jason into the cart. The bars slide down over their laps, pressing uncomfortably down on his stomach. He almost…almost regrets not taking the out that was given to him. This ride is supposedly the most intense in the park. Full of flips and sharp turns. None of which will help not upset his stomach ever further.

Jason looks over at him, presumably to say something snarky about their little competition and how he's going to win. Opening his mouth, he pauses, taking into account Blake's paling face. "Actually, are you okay?" There's no maliciousness in his voice for once.

There's no time for Blake to respond before the cart starts moving up, the metal tracks clicking as the chain pulls them closer to the drop. His face is stark white, eyes wide open. His stomach gives an unhappy whine, twisting and turning at the sight.

A brief shake of the head no is all he can give before Blake jerks with an empty gag. Hand clasped on his mouth, Jason's eyes go wide in response. It's far too late for them to get off the ride.

"Oh, okay okay, breathe. Try to keep it down until the ride is over." His words are frantic, but a small part of Blake's mind that's not occupied with the fact that he's about to vomit registers the actual concern in his voice. Although that may be for not wanting vomit on his clothes.

There's a brief pause at the top of the coaster before the sudden drop. Almost immediately Blake's stomach shoots into his throat. Burning hot bile traveling further and further up. He whimpers involuntarily, closing his eyes as he keeps his hand firmly clamped over his mouth. Unable to think of anything else besides the steady mantra of 'don't throw up don't throw up don't throw up.'

The ride takes them through several sharp turns, two loop-de-loops —one of which he had to choke back down a mouthful of sick— before stopping suddenly. A five-second pause before pulling back into the boarding area.

Blake's full-on trembling by now from the strain of not throwing up in public on a rollercoaster. Now that the ride has stopped, he can feel Jason awkwardly trying to rub his back. "Okay okay, that's good. Just breathe," he murmurs out quietly.

The seat bar finally comes up, relieving some of the pressure on Blake's stomach. The ride attendants look wary at the nauseated expression on his face. Somehow, he manages to stumble out of the cart with Jason's assistance, eyes still firmly shut as he tries to not get sick. The world feels like it's spinning below his feet.

He manages to get tugged halfway down to the entrance of the ride before he jerks suddenly, mouth flooding with sick. Trying to swallow it back down, before eventually relenting and tugging on Jason's shirt.

Jason looks at him before exhaling sharply. "Hang on, hang on. We're almost to a trash can." Tugging Blake along more urgently they manage to make it down to the entrance.

Shoving Blake forward into a trashcan, his hands hit the sides. Blinking his eyes open, he opens his mouth allowing for the first wave to pour from his mouth. It's liquidy and chunky, splattering over the trash people threw out. The combined smell of sick and trach is absolutely rancid.

Shoulders hitching up towards his ears, Blake lurches forward gagging. Another wave comes up, slightly more chunky. The ground feels like it's spinning beneath his feet.

"Okay, woah, you're okay," Jason murmurs as Blake nearly pitches forward into the trash can. He has a grounding hand resting on his back.

There's a pause where Blake just stands there, head hanging over the trash can. He's acutely aware of the people in the park and just how many people probably just saw this happen.

"You done?" Jason asks, rubbing his back lightly.

Instead of a verbal response, Blake retches, bringing up a final wave of chunky sick. Spitting into the trash can, he pushes back away from it and the smell so it doesn't trigger another round of heaving. "Done," he announces quietly.

Jason nods. "C'mon, let's head back to the bus." There's a pause before he smirks cockily. "Guess I won that competition, huh?"

There's a tired grimace on Blake's face at the reminder of their little challenge. "Oh fuck you."

[rhaenella]

You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Part 18

Part 17 | Part 19

Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, smut

Word count: 5.3k

A/N: at the end.

Song: Don’t You Know – Jaymes Young

A web of dark, menacing clouds drifted over London in the distance, a strong breeze slowly picking up. The air was still warm and humid thanks to the minor heat wave that had hit Southern England in the past two weeks. But as always, those warmer days would eventually conclude with a typical summer’s storm. 

You were on your way home from lunch with Claire, having only a couple more hours to get ready for tonight’s pretentious event where you would bring one of its guests to their demise.

With a slight hurry to your steps in an attempt to try to beat the oncoming rain, you turned the corner into your street, taking out your keys as you walked up to the entrance of your building. You glanced back twice at a sleek, black town car parked on the opposite side of the street, a driver waiting patiently in the front. Frowning and feeling a little suspicious, you turned the lock and entered your building. 

The stairs squeaked loudly as you climbed them up to the third floor of your flat. You immediately noticed that your front door was opened and you quietly made your way towards it, already guessing who it must be that had rather rudely broken into your flat. 

“Are you aware that breaking and entering can land you in the nick?” You asked, promptly closing your front door behind you.

Rhys didn’t look startled at your sudden entrance, lounging comfortably on your couch as he’d likely heard you making your way up the old and noisy stairs. He closed the work of fiction he’d been reading as he’d awaited your arrival. Your gaze zeroed in on the novel he’d picked out from your own bookcase, Normal People.

“Hello to you, too, darling,” Rhys smiled cheerfully.

You dropped your purse to the kitchen table with a sigh, raising a single, sceptical eyebrow at him. 

“One of the perks of growing up on a council estate,” Rhys shrugged. “You know how to pick a lock.”

“Well, good for you. Next time, please just wait until I give you the bloody key, will you?”

Rhys inclined his head, softly laughing at your mild annoyance. He put down the book on the coffee table before casually adjusting his cufflinks, directing your attention to the immaculate outfit he was wearing. A simple but elegant, black suit and tie with his shoes polished to a shine. Rhys always dressed well, but this was quite an extravagant choice for a simple Thursday night.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Rhys grinned, standing up from his spot on your couch to slowly walk towards you, understanding hitting you at once.

“Oh, no,” you shook your head.

“Oh, yes.”

For fuck’s sake.

“No, absolutely not. You’re not coming with me tonight, Rhys,” you stated, your tone final.

You’d informed Rhys on your plan to attend the Sotheby’s event tonight — or the broad lines of it at least — over the phone the day before yesterday, not realising he would take that as an invitation to jovially tag along.

Rhys simply looked at you in amusement as he stood in front of you. “Why are you so opposed to the idea? I think it’ll be great fun, don’t you?”

You scoffed, meeting his eye. 

“Great fun? Rhys, you draw too much attention to yourself. All eyes would be on us,” you explained. “And by the way, how were you planning to get an invite on such short notice?”

Rhys obviously didn’t seem half as concerned with any of your objections as you were, an air of indifference hanging around him.

“First of all, you clearly underestimate me if you think I won’t be able to finagle an invite to Sotheby’s by myself,” Rhys started, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt at your low confidence.

“Second, all eyes will be on us soon, anyway. We can’t keep hiding from the media forever. Might as well beat them to the punch.”

You felt a slight nervous jitter run through you at the thought of the media and everyone’s eyes on you. Yes, you’d decided earlier that you were doing this, that you would openly support Rhys and stand by his side. But you’d secretly hoped there would be a bit more time. To pick a moment that wasn’t as delicate as a hit on one of the most prominent people in Big Pharma on a night when half of London’s aristocracy would be attending. 

It was already quite the bold move to kill Fernsby tonight, but you were prepared for it. However, you were not prepared for every guest in attendance to be watching your every move as you sauntered along the masses, accompanied by Rhys Montrose — awarded writer and presently favoured mayoral candidate. The chances of people recognising you from the online articles when you were by yourself were slim, but with Rhys by your side… No, you would never get to move around freely and unnoticed.

“I’ve not exactly counted on all the extra pairs of eyes on me. How do you expect me to be able to carry out my job when everybody is gawking at us?” 

“I have every faith in your abilities to work around that. You’re a lot smarter than all of those spoiled wankers in there,” Rhys countered.

You warmed a little at the compliment, but you wouldn’t be swayed by his charm so easily. Humming noncommittally, you turned to open your purse and empty its contents on the kitchen table in order to transfer them to your clutch later, carefully setting down the poison filled bottle of Chanel no. 5. 

Rhys reached out to touch your arm, tenderly stroking to get your attention, to get you to give in to him. You felt a familiar shiver at his touch and you immediately put some distance between you, opting to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Come on, darling. You haven’t even given me a kiss yet,” Rhys sighed.

“With the breaking and entering, and unequivocally inviting yourself to my private kill party tonight — I’m sorry but I don’t think you’re deserving of one,” you said, only half joking.

Rhys pouted. “That’s unfair. I haven’t seen you for days.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his whining tone, filling a glass with water and gulping it down in one go. You wanted nothing more than to rush into his arms and keep kissing him until your lungs were burning and screaming at you to break away and take a breath. A small part of you almost wanted to cave and allow him to accompany you tonight. You hated to admit it, but Rhys was right, it would be a hell of a lot of fun. If it wasn’t for the objections you’d already raised. 

So, you resisted. 

“You know you’re being unreasonable here, right?” Rhys asked from where he was now leaning against the table. 

“Oh, I’m being unreasonable?” You shot back.

“Definitely,” Rhys affirmed, nothing but playfulness in his voice. “Next thing, you won’t allow me to see you in that wonderful dress you’ve got laid out on your bed.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant confession of snooping around your flat, putting the glass in the sink.

“Or worse, you won’t even let me taste you. Or,” he added, dramatic. “You won’t even let me smell you.”

The deep, gravel of his voice made you shiver again. God no, you definitely wanted him to. To have him come up to you, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent before attacking your skin with his soft, full lips. You would gladly welcome the feeling of his hands all over your body, his heat pressed to yours, pleasure coursing through both of you as your bodies moved to a perfectly timed rhythm. 

You were so lost in these sinful thoughts that you barely registered Rhys’ next words. Something about being able to find out what you would smell like from a distance, even if you’d ignore him for the rest of the evening. 

You didn’t think much of his words at first, but then the true meaning of what he’d said landed. What you would smell like. 

The perfume.

Your eyes widened, your body instantly turning around as panic surged through you. You burst out of the kitchen to find Rhys already holding up the bottle of Chanel no. 5 that you’d taken out of your purse. He was grinning, evidently proud of himself for having found a way to get you to come out. Rhys was completely unaware of the fact that he was about to smell a bottle filled with a deadly poison. A poison that could violently kill him on the spot within mere minutes.

“Rhys, don’t!” You shouted.

You seized hold of his wrist, forcefully grabbing the perfume bottle from him, hastily checking if the top was still securely shut. When you were sure that Rhys hadn’t yet managed to open it, you let out a sigh of relief, looking up into his puzzled eyes.

“You nearly poisoned yourself just now,” you breathed harshly, feeling your heart painfully hammer in your chest at the jump scare Rhys had given you.

The grin slowly fell off of his face, his brows furrowing. He looked from you to the bottle, analysing it intently as you held it protectively close to your body, afraid it could still potentially hurt him somehow. Rhys’ lips parted slightly in confusion, the lines on his forehead prominent as he apparently couldn’t comprehend making the grave mistake of mixing up a perfume bottle with poison.

“It’s supposed to pass for perfume,” you explained, chest heaving from the sudden adrenaline rush. “I had it made exclusively for tonight.”

Rhys nodded lightly, breaking out of his frozen state. The concern in his blue eyes was unmistakable as he took in the alarm in your own eyes and the tense line in your shoulders. He slowly reached out to take the bottle from you, but you flinched back instinctively.

“I’ll be more careful this time,” Rhys promised, voice steady. 

You allowed Rhys to slowly take the bottle from you and he carefully turned it around in his palm.

“What’s in it?” Rhys asked.

“Aconite.”

He winced. “Causes seizures, right?”

“No, instant heart attacks,” you corrected.

Rhys glanced over the bottle once more before setting it a safe distance away on the kitchen table. Next thing you knew, you felt his arms pull you close to his body, enveloping you in an embrace. Rhys knew the panic in your voice had been too real to simply brush off the moment and move on. He mentally scolded himself for being so careless, for scaring you like that. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rhys whispered, placing a reassuring kiss to your forehead. 

You immediately relaxed in his embrace, your breathing going back to normal as you focused on the warmth of his body against yours. 

“Fuck,” you breathed into his shoulder, chuckling a little. “You scared me there for a minute.”

“I know,” he said.

Rhys’ hands found yours and he squeezed them reassuringly, the corners of his lips quirking up slightly.

“On the bright side, I finally get to hold you in my arms,” Rhys quipped, lightening the mood.

You snorted, shaking your head at him. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?”

Nevertheless, you cupped his jaw, bringing your mouth up to his. Rhys made a satisfied noise against your lips, it had been days, though it had felt like months to him. It was a soft, slow glide of lips that desperately made you want to deepen the kiss. To have him. All of him.

The touch of Rhys’ feathery light hands as they travelled up your arms to cup both of your cheeks made you want to lean into him further. And if it was up to Rhys, he would’ve kept kissing you, touching you — do everything in his might to make you feel good. But you couldn’t let him, painfully acknowledging the fact that you had to get ready for tonight’s event at some point. 

Placing one, two, three more kisses on his lips, you reluctantly stepped away from him, creating some distance to get your mind to focus on the task in front of you. Unfortunately, that task didn’t include Rhys. 

“As much as I enjoy this, I need to start getting ready,” you answered Rhys’ questioning gaze.

He obviously wanted more from you. Just like you did from him. But no. You would not get distracted. 

“Of course,” he agreed begrudgingly. 

“So, you’re all set, then? Location, a way in, weapon of choice, a stunning dress, an exit strategy,” Rhys summed up all of the necessities.

“Yes. Like I said, I just need to start getting ready. Preferably without you distracting me,” you accused lightly, trying to move past him but he blocked your way.

“You’re missing one important thing for tonight, darling. Absolutely crucial if you want this kill to be a success.”

You tilted your head to the side, noting his serious expression as you searched his face.

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

Rhys smirked. “A date.”

You rolled your eyes before shooting him a look. Rhys barked a laugh, unable to suppress it at your sheer exasperation.

“Nice try. But I’ve got everything covered and I don’t need you for this.”

That made Rhys look at the remnants of the pile of information you had gathered on Fernsby that were still scattered around the rug-covered floor. You followed his gaze, knowing full well he’d gone through some of the documents whilst he’d waited for you. He’d already admitted to having sneaked a peek at your dress for tonight, so it wasn’t a big leap. Rhys confirmed it not even a second later.

“Interesting man, that Fernsby.”

“You know him?” You couldn’t help but ask, curious despite yourself.

“Can’t say that I do. But I know of him. I’m assuming your Ms. Edwards isn’t a fan?”

He warily glanced at the perfume bottle and you had to stifle a laugh at the slight pursing of his lips. He was clearly still more than a little displeased with the fact that he had nearly and unwittingly offed himself.

“No, she’s not. And that’s really all you need to know. Now, if you don’t mind,” you urged, gesturing blindly to indicate him moving out of your way.

Rhys hummed, completely disregarding you as he remained exactly where he was, his mischievous eyes unabashedly raking your figure. You stubbornly tried to ignore how the undeniable desire emanating from him made you want to peel off all of his fine-tailored clothes. What was it with men wearing suits that made them even more attractive?

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

You shot him another pointed look to which Rhys only smirked in return.

“Like you’re undressing me with your eyes.”

“You’d rather I undress you with my hands?” Rhys murmured, moving closer.

Please, your mind screamed. 

“No,” you answered instead.

Rhys hummed again, brushing your hair off of your shoulder. “I don’t think I believe you.”

He moved even closer to you, your breath catching at the feeling of his warm breath on your neck, just like you’d imagined earlier.

“Rhys,” you warned.

“I can have my driver drop us off at the event. That will save you at least thirty minutes of public transport. Precious time we can spend doing other things.”

Rhys emphasised his tempting words by sliding his hand from your shoulder, past your neck to possessively land on your throat. You shuddered when he squeezed lightly, teasing, making your pupils dilate perceptibly. Your resistance was dwindling with each touch, and he knew it. Damn him.

“What about the other guests,” you stammered, a final and futile attempt at resisting him. 

“Forget about them, Y/N. Trust in yourself and in your capabilities. I’ll be there to assist you, or cause a massive distraction, if need be,” Rhys grinned.

He leaned in to brush his lips against your cheek, softly kissing his way down to your neck, hands sliding down your curves to hold onto your hips.

“You’re gonna keep being a childish pain in the arse until I allow you to come, aren’t you?”

“Very perceptive,” Rhys confirmed, placing a lingering kiss to your neck. “You might as well give in now, Y/N. I can be very persuasive.”

Inwardly, you couldn’t help but laugh at his choice of words, immediately thinking back to what Claire had said earlier about Rhys. You were definitely not strong enough to say no to him. Especially not now that you knew what kind of pleasure he could give you.

You bit down a moan threatening to escape as he started to suck on the delicate skin below your ear. 

That’s it.

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Why don’t you show me?”

Rhys leaned back to look you in the eye. His fingers dug deeper into your hips and his eyes glazed over with passionate lust the moment he knew you were serious. He smirked triumphantly and it almost made you want to revoke your consent if it wasn’t for the insistent heat already pooling between your legs at his proximity.

“With pleasure,” he said, low. 

Rhys brought his hand to the back of your head, holding you firmly in place as he crashed his lips to yours. You whimpered at the brutal assault of his mouth, his other arm coming around you to pull you even closer, twining the two of you together.

He wasn’t holding back now that you gave him full permission to simply ravage your mouth. And you didn’t want him to, your hand grabbing the base of his neck, holding him close. Kissing deeply and with intent, Rhys’ tongue danced with yours, swallowing each other’s sinful noises. In the back of your mind, you quietly wondered how you could have ever let your nerves for the media’s attention win over having this — having him.

Rhys drove you backwards and you stumbled back until you landed onto the couch with a breathy laugh. Grinning, Rhys crowded over you, finding your mouth again. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring him in place, licking into his mouth. You couldn’t get enough of him, your hands dipping underneath his suit jacket. He moved back to quickly shrug it off, letting the garment fall to the floor before diving back in, sweeping his tongue against yours, all-consuming. 

You traded kisses like that, like you didn’t have to breathe, completely addicted to each other’s taste.

Shifting underneath him, you suggestively nudged his already half-hard cock, making him hiss into the kiss as lust fired straight through him. You broke the kiss to let out a soft laugh, repeating the motion deliberately, smiling as you playfully bit at his mouth. 

“Who’s persuasive, now?” You chuckled.

“The jury’s still out, darling,” Rhys shot back, smiling cheekily.

Rhys’ hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric higher and higher, providing him with access to newly exposed skin. He moved lower, placing kisses all over your stomach. Urging you to arch your back, Rhys unclasped your bra, immediately sucking a nipple into his mouth. You keened, cradling his head, your hips moving against his out of their own accord, making him groan into the velvet of your skin.

Soon, all of your clothes were a disregarded mess on the floor, including Rhys’ very expensive suit. You faintly registered one of his three hundred pounds cufflinks clank onto the wooden floor a few metres away from you. Neither you nor Rhys paid it any mind as he sucked a bruising kiss in between your breasts.

“Tell me a secret,” you gasped, repeating the words that had previously succeeded in eliciting the truth from both of your souls. “How long have you been planning to tag along?”

You could feel his mouth break into a wide, boyish grin as he nipped along the skin of your ribs. 

Rhys glanced up at you, eyes dancing with amusement. “Since you took the call.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow, exasperated. Rhys laughed, continuing to kiss his way down your body. 

“You better earn your plus one status, Mr. Montrose,” you challenged.

In response, light fingertips brushed your clit, nearly making you jump out of your skin. You lifted yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he pushed your thighs wider, making a space for himself.

“Oh, I certainly will, Miss Y/L/N,” he promised, his mouth descending on your wanting core. 

You gasped at the feeling of his plump lips closing around your clit, suckling sweetly. Rhys moved down through your already slick folds, lapping up the wetness before tracing his tongue back up and around your clit, repeating the movements relentlessly.

Fire and want slammed through you, Rhys maintaining eye contact as he expertly ate you out, his sparkling blue eyes betraying how much he enjoyed seeing your pleasure-stricken face. Your hips bucked involuntarily, Rhys snaking an arm around them to hold you down. Your own arm gave out beneath you and you fell back to the couch with a loud moan.

Your whole focus zeroed in on Rhys and his perfect mouth on you, unable to think of anything else. The way he managed to learn how to work your body in such a short span of time, it was honestly remarkable. He was able to coax your pleasure to highs you hadn’t known were possible before you’d met him.

Your hands held onto the cushions for dear life as Rhys’ tongue kept insistently flickering against your clit. Your internal muscles clenched around nothing and you whimpered at the emptiness.

“More, please,” you moaned.

Rhys hmmed against your clit, sending a wave of delicious vibrations against your bundle of nerves. You let out a wanton noise, his fingers obliging your request as they delved into you.

The added pressure of his long fingers filling you up, it was almost too much, and you writhed beneath him. Rhys tightened his hold on your hips though, keeping you pressed to his mouth, unable to escape his touch.

He quickly built up your high, your increasing moans and your inner walls clenching around his fingers functioning as prime indicators of your fast-approaching orgasm. But just as you were about to tumble over the edge, Rhys relented, slowing his fingers and the movement of his mouth. 

“What—” you protested, dazed.

He withdrew his fingers from inside you, slowly and deliberately licking them clean.

“I’ll let you come, if you let me,” he said, a wicked little gleam in his eyes.

Was he bloody serious? Hadn’t you already given into him, essentially allowing him to come with you tonight? What else did the bastard want? You stared him down, eyes narrowing.

Rhys waited patiently for your answer, completely unbothered by his own nuisance as he placed open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh, biting softly before smoothing over it with his tongue.

You groaned, trying to move your hips to chase his slowly retreating mouth that kept moving farther away from where you needed him most. Rhys smirked down at you, pressing your hips down into the couch with an even firmer grip in retaliation.

“Please,” you begged, turning completely submissive underneath him, desperate for his touch.

Rhys absolutely loved it when you fully gave in to him, granting him the power over your body and pleasure, trusting that he would make you feel so fucking good. Even if he could be a goddamn tease. 

“I need verbal confirmation, Y/N.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned again. “Yes. Yes, you can come with me to the fucking most ostentatious event of the decade.”

Rhys smiled, relishing your obedience. 

“Now, was that so hard?”

You were about to answer him with a snarky remark, but whatever you were about to say left your brain the moment his mouth was back on your heat, his fingers resuming their unforgiving pace inside of you. 

Your hand shot out to grab hold of his arm that was still coiled around your lower stomach to keep your body down. Rhys focused all of his efforts on rubbing against the one spot inside you that made your nails dig painfully deep into the delicate skin of his wrist, adamant in bringing you over the edge. His lips closed around your clit, sucking, and you made a choked sound, suddenly there.

“Rhys,” you cried out, everything in your body pulling tight and hot. 

A blistering wave of pleasure took you under, making you gasp for air, Rhys’ edging tactics surely having heightened the intensity of your orgasm. Rhys gentled you through it, mouth still moving over you, but lighter as you slowly came down. 

After a few delirious moments, you came back to your senses. Rhys’ chin was perched on top of your thigh, openly admiring you with a smile, evidently proud of his accomplishment of reducing you to a mumbling, moaning mess. 

“Don’t look so smug.”

“Ah, but I managed to persuade you, didn’t I?”

“Oh, shut up,” you murmured, grabbing onto his neck to pull him up.

He gladly followed your lead, capturing your lips once his face was at your level. You faintly tasted traces of yourself on his tongue, that in and of itself arousing you once again.

Rhys simply kissed you for a while, allowing you a moment before he would give it his all to give you another mind-altering orgasm. 

You sighed into the kiss, running your hands up and down his chest. Rhys dipped down to kiss along your jaw, over your chin and back up to your mouth. 

“Rhys,” you breathed, biting down on his lower lip, tugging in invitation. 

Your blunt nails scratched down his back, your legs rewrapping themselves around his waist as you moved your hips to grind against his length. Rhys didn’t need any more urging than that. 

His fingers wrapped around your upper thigh as he positioned your bodies, lining himself up before slowly sinking inside of you. You gasped, still sensitive down there. 

Rhys set up an excruciating rhythm, slow but deep and thorough, making you feel every inch of him. 

Your hips moved up to meet his thrusts, your fingers digging into his muscled shoulders as Rhys held your gaze, his blue eyes almost black. You were captivated by them, getting lost in the intensity of his stare. You felt as if he looked directly into your bare soul, knowing precisely what to do and how to move to make you feel like you could explode.

“Y/N,” Rhys panted, dropping his forehead to yours. 

He produced the most magnificent, sinful sounds out of pure and utter bliss as you squeezed around him. 

Hearing Rhys let out those low, hoarse grunts of pleasure and feeling the sureness of his deep, methodical thrusts, it easily helped build up that familiar knot inside of you once more, ready to burst any second. You moaned his name, reclaiming his lips. Sensing you were close, Rhys moved his free hand between you.

His thumb played over your clit with just the right amount of pressure, sending you over the edge all over again, moaning into his mouth. Rhys fucked you through it, gradually picking up his pace to chase his own orgasm. He came soon after, his rhythm stuttering as he thrust into you once, twice before bottoming out, trembling against you as he spilled his seed inside of you.

Both of your chests were heaving as you tried to catch your breath, sweat beading between your bodies. 

You closed your eyes for a short moment, and when you re-opened them, you found Rhys staring at you, damp curls all over the place as he looked at you like you were a miracle. You were already flushed from your intense sexual activities, but if you weren’t, you’d sure as hell flush at the sight of him. 

Rhys moved, slipping out of you and rearranging your bodies on the couch, having you lay partially on top of him, your head over his steadily beating heart. You sighed, tangling your legs with his. 

Neither one of you said anything for a moment, quietly basking in the blissful afterglow. You were the first to break the silence a few minutes later.

“It’s never been like this for me,” you whispered.

You didn’t have to specify any further, Rhys immediately understanding what you meant. 

“Me neither,” he admitted.

The connection between you, it opened up realms of feeling, and ultimately pleasure that you’d never experienced with anyone else in your life. You were attuned to his soul, and his to yours. Like a sweet melody only the two of you could hear, no one else in the world privy of the beautiful, encapsulating, and oh so hypnotising song.

Soulmates, Claire had said. And in this moment, you almost wanted to believe her. 

You silently traced patterns over his chest, Rhys combing through your hair with a remarkable delicacy. You wanted to stay in this moment forever. But of course, you couldn’t. There was still the pending murder of Mr. Daniel Fernsby. He had to die — tonight.

Rhys apparently paralleled your thoughts, and officially chose to shatter your illusions of just staying here and ignoring reality for a little while longer with his next words.

“Come on, we have to get ready,” Rhys softly urged you to get up and subsequently move away from the warmth of his chest. 

You groaned in response. “I’m never moving again.”

The vibrations of his contagious laughter rumbled through you, a feeling of all-consuming happiness enveloping you at the mere sound of it, making your answering smile stretch from ear to ear. 

“I don’t think you have much of a choice, darling.”

“What do you mean? I can decide what I do and don’t do perfectly well for myself, thank you.”

He chuckled. “I know. And you’ve already decided previously to get this job done tonight.”

Rhys tightened his arms around you, and it was the only warning you got before he hoisted himself up, taking you with him.

“Rhys,” you squealed at the suddenness, coiling yourself around his body like a koala bear, afraid of dropping to the floor and landing on your bare arse. 

“There’s work to be done, darling. And I for one cannot wait to finally see you in your element up close,” he answered, carrying you to your ensuite bathroom, walking past your bed where your dress was laid out.

You huffed. Of course now that you’d allowed him to come with you, he was all of a sudden very impatient to get a move on. Typical.

“You act as if you’ve just won first-class tickets to a world-renowned theatre production.”

“Isn’t it the same thing?” 

You snorted. “I guess it depends on one’s definition of the word entertainment. Now, put me down, you arse.”

Rhys chuckled at your demanding tone, nevertheless setting you down in front of your bathroom cabinet. You looked up at him and Rhys leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. 

“I would happily join you in the shower, but I fear we might get distracted again,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I think you might be right,” you laughed. “I’ll be quick and then the shower’s all yours.”

He gave you one more, brief kiss before turning to leave so you could finally get ready for the event, his parting smile promising an evening full of excitement. 

Turning around, you glanced up at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was all over the place, your bright eyes shone with joy, and there was a faint blush present on your cheeks. You looked properly fucked, that’s for sure. 

You shook your head with a soft laugh, quickly turning on the shower and grabbing your hairbrush to try and untangle the mess on top of your head. You had approximately one hour before you had to leave, you deduced as you’d registered the time on the clock in your bedroom when Rhys had carried you past it.

Let’s see what the rest of the night will have in store.

–––– 

A/N: I finished drafting this chapter around 2 am. I don’t know if that explains anything but ah, well. I hope you enjoyed it! And please do let me know if you have any other ideas for this fic, or things you would like to see happen. I have a rough outline of where I want the story to go, with a few more plot points to incorporate. I’m thinking, maybe around 9/10 more chapters? Unless someone has a great idea for another storyline ;) So, let me know if you do!

Or just ideas for a different fic altogether… I’m open to ideas. Anyways, thank you for reading and embarking on this journey with me, it means the world to me!