#But hopefully now as long as this one took ^^;

[i-love-ptv]

Hand Prints and Good Grips…✱*.:｡✧

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Childhood Best friend!Reader

Trouble brews once Mary walks into the twins’ juke joint, and you just wanna be the girl Elias likes.

wc: 6,102

warnings: porn with lots of plot, jealous!dom!Elias, sub!reader, clit slapping, face-sitting, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v, dirty-talk, degradation (not tew much but it’s there), overstimulation (r receiving), rough sex, manhandling, slight tit sucking/licking, marking, creampie (gulp??), language, one klan mention, shitty southern writing

an: HEY GUYS!!! THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC EVER WOOHOO! (ignore how it took me a month to make it, i’ve been going thru it man) i’m literally obsessed w sinners so hopefully i did stack justice! do y’all even read these? anyways

feedback is always appreciated n welcomed <3

Your hair was starting to cling onto your forehead as if you were drenched in sticky molasses.

The air was humid and dry; of course, this was a Mississippi custom, but it doesn’t help that there’s dozens of bodies stomping and prancing around.

Though you can’t complain much, considering that you were right here with them—dancing as if you hadn’t in years.

In a way, you haven't. You haven’t felt a rush of autonomy and euphoria quite like this before.

With everyone being nothing but working busy-bodies, there’s been little to no time to plan big events such as tonight. The lack of excitement has been a major factor too.

Hence why as soon as the Moore twins came back into town with the intention to open up their very own juke joint, everyone was on board.

The pair hadn’t been seen here in seven years.

Seven long, cruel years without the twin you’ve grown to love.

Stack.

Well, he was Stack to everyone else. But to you? He was still Elias. Your ‘Lias.

Seven years without his lingering touches and pearly smiles.

You weren’t the only one that missed him, it seems.

Your sister told you that when she went down near the train station, she was right there waiting for your Elias.

Mary was waiting.

You don’t have a clue as to how she knew he was coming home before you did, considering that nobody from the Delta had heard from him except for you. And a letter from him was rather rare.

Mary had nearly thrown a fit once she saw him; it didn’t help that Elias had turned down her persistent advances.

The lack of contact obviously sent her over the edge.

Apparently she mentioned their former relations; their connection being a secret to none.

You were envious of this; never jealous, but overcome by a feeling of want.

Growing up with the twins meant that the three of you were as close as can be. That being said, though, they looked at you as if you were their little sister. It was fine when Elijah assumed the role of a family member, but Elias?

Just thinking about it makes your heart ache.

You longed for the flirtatious remarks that he’d give off to any and every woman, a night filled with intimacy plagued your mind constantly.

But you got over it.

You had to. Not only for the sake of your friendship with Elias, but also because of his prolonged absence from town.

That’s why tonight—right now, you had to pump the breaks and focus on celebrating the twins’ success.

Speaking of success?

You making your way over to the bar with your wobbly heeled-covered feet was a success. Surprisingly.

“Someone’s been dancin’ a lil too hard, huh?” Annie chortles, looking at you with nothing but sisterly-love, and a bit of amusement.

“Only dancin’ I was doing was during my cooking—nothin’ like this in a while,” you exclaim with bliss through a beaming smile. You huff as you sit down in front of the bar. “Y’got anythin’ good back here?” You motion to the bottles Annie has surrounding her.

“Better than good,” Annie replies before ducking down and searching below the counter.

You brace your hands on the counter and slightly peer over at the woman, but then she pops up quicker than you can plop back down onto your chair. She quirks a brow at you before placing a bottle down in front of you.

“What’s this?” You question; if Annie didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought that it was Christmas morning with the way you were looking at the bottle.

“Authentic Irish beer; straight from the north side of Chicago. Different from the rest they’re sellin’.” She replies. “Your man brought it specifically for you—made me promise I wouldn’t give it to nobody else, no matter how much they was payin’.”

You bite back a smile at her words; you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“He fixin’ to be Mary’s.” Your lips straighten, it’s bittersweet.

“That so? ‘Cause that ain’t what I heard,” Annie muses, making you pause. You savor Annie’s words as if they were your holy grail. Was there a chance that Elias looked at you the same as you did him?

You crane your neck and your gaze is set over your shoulder—over at him.

He catches your eye and he gives you a cheeky smile, to which you return rather eagerly.

You hadn’t had a single nonchalant bone in your body it seems.

Your shared staring was cut short as Mary forced Elias’ attention back onto her, but it wasn’t exactly a hard task for her.

Something about her was just so easy and simple, despite the ring shining on her hand that matched another man’s being anything but simple. The way that they connected even after all these years made you feel as if you swallowed a jar of mud.

After a few sips of beer, you can’t help but let a smile rest on your face. Elias knew you’d love it, and it makes your heart dance.

Speaking of dancing, your dearest friend Pearline struts up to you with a grin that soared for miles.

“What’s got you cheesin’ all hard?” You raise your eyebrows at her, making her giggle.

“Y’know the Preacher’s boy? The one that was just singin’?” Pearline’s nearly jumping out of her skin with excitement.

“Lil’ Sammie Moore? Course I do, why? What’d you do Pearl?” You gape at her and hold her hands tightly in yours.

“Well…” She trails off. “Let’s just say, he showed me he ain’t a boy, but a real man.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of the sockets as you exclaim a Pearline! that could probably be heard for miles.

Pearline gushes, “He made me feel things I ain’t never felt before.”

“Not even with your mister?” You gasp.

“Not even close. And that’s not all,” she pauses before looking around, then leaning in towards you.

“I wasn’t even able to freshen up. He didn’t want me to,” Pearline whispers.

You shout, then look around in embarrassment at your outburst; you shake Pearline vigorously by her shoulders and giggle some more.

You decide to look around the joint, and you coincidentally catch Sammie looking right at the back of Pearline’s frame in utter awe.

You nudge Pearline, and she looks over at him with you. The look that she throws his way is nothing short of flirtatious.

“He looked at ya like he wanted t’take a bite,” you snicker.

Pearline looks at you mischievously, “Funny, considerin’ he already did.” You can’t help but laugh.

“So, y’thinkin’ bout singin’ like he said?” You ask.

Pearline hums, “Maybe. ‘M thinkin’ you should too.”

“No, not happenin’. Not a chance,” You scoff playfully.

Pearline whines and grabs your wrists. “C’mon, sista! When’s the last time you got the chance to do this?” She pouts, and tries hardest to make puppy-dog eyes at you.

“Besides, this could be y’chance to make a move on Stack. Ain't that whatcha been waitin’ for?” She drags.

You falter at the question she poses.

“Tonight’s the night, sista.” Pearline murmurs softly.

It’s crazy how you always get in your head when it comes to him.

The thing is, you weren’t one to throw yourself out there just to entertain a man. No, that just wasn’t your style.

But God—tonight? His suit was fitting snug in all the right places, his grills glimmered dangerously in the dim lighting, and his eyes always found yours, recklessly.

You couldn’t resist Elias Moore.

And right now, you’re starting to wonder if you ever could.

“Y’better wrap that scarf on tight, Pearl,” you say as you grab her arm and start walking with her to the front. Pearline shrills and claps her hands with glee.

You saunter towards the stage with a pep in your step and your arm linked with a perky Pearline. Your heels clack on the wooden floors as you come face-to-face with the band and none other than Delta Slim, who’s now grinning at you.

“Been tryin’ to getcha to sing for years girl, what’s with the change o’ heart?” He questions with a smirk, as if he already knew the answer. You’re sure that he did with the way that his eyes looked past you and towards Elias.

“It’s a nice night, figured I’d try sum different,” you shrug, trying to mask your sudden embarrassment. Pearline intertwines her hand with yours and uses her other one to gesture to the band. You inhale deeply while looking at her; she gives you a look of reassurance.

The patrons of the juke joint grow silent at the sight of you two taking your stances and the band readying their instruments.

Pearline starts humming and you lightly stomp your feet on the stage, starting to form a beat as the band follows.

Elias feels as if his heart was being weighed down by a ton inside of him. He held his breath—scared that the rise and fall of his chest would make him miss the steady view of you: parading around as if everything outside the joint had come to a halt.

You looked completely, and utterly divine up there; moving swiftly and effortlessly, as if you owned the very ground you were stepping on.

You were absolutely ethereal in Elias’ eyes.

And he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t falling even harder for his sugar as of right now. He was the only man that could get away with calling you sugar; he knows it, so does everyone else in the Delta—and Elias can’t help but let his pride swell every time he thinks about it.

Your body sways carelessly as if you were one with the words that escaped your lips, but your eyes are grounded—powerful, even. Speaking of them: your glittering orbs meet his, your gaze nothing short of a vixen’s.

Though, the interlocking of your sights is interrupted when Mary makes her presence known yet again at Elias’ side. He can’t help but sigh at the intrusion.

Luckily, Elias’ ever-growing agitation fades when the patrons of the juke let out their elation around him. The band’s playing picks up, as well as you and Pearline’s voices.

Don’t let it shine, shine, shine once more

Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon

Everyone chants and stomps rhythmically.

“I wanna sing, like I hear the crickets do,” Pearline sings seductively while peering at Sammy as she struts.

Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon

“I wanna hoo,” you and Pearline sing simultaneously, harmonizing beautifully as your backs meet and you both slide to a crouching position.

Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon

“I wanna howl,” the two of you sound as if you were straight out of a folktale—like one of those myths of the sirens that Annie had explained to Elias once before. You and Pearline then reside in a crawl as you look at the crowd with a sense of hunger in your eyes.

Mary gets ahold of Elias’ tie, but he quickly removes her grip from him—without even breaking eye contact with you. He knows she’s interested in spending the rest of the night with him; maybe in hopes of rekindling an old flame.

But how could Elias be interested in another woman when his woman—his sugar—was looking at him so deliciously.

You grin slyly at him, biting your bottom lip before licking your teeth.

Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon

“I wanna scream,” Pearline sings, as you mouth the three words to Elias.

Three little words that have Elias fucking mesmerized, hypnotized even. You have him in a trance, right where you want him, and you both know it.

Elias wishfully thinks that the pick up in your breathing isn’t just from all the dancing you’ve been doing tonight. He bites his lip at the thoughts running through his mind.

Mary can’t even say that she recognizes the look that Elias gives you, for she has never been on the receiving end like you have been. Her frustration and jealousy boils over, and she eventually huffs before walking away from Elias, and out of the juke joint.

Elias doesn’t mind one bit, and he sure as hell doesn’t when the song finishes and you hug Pearline with excitement as the joint nearly turns upside down. You’re jumping up and down and Elias can’t help but smile til his cheeks hurt.

Elias feels a hand slap somewhat roughly on his shoulder. He knows good and well it’s his brother, with or without the wave of tobacco radiating.

“Came out here after the game finished, saw the way she was lookin’ at’cha, too.” Elijah grumbles.

“Breathtakin’, ain’t she?” Elias remarks breathily, not even turning to his brother—keeping his sights on you, as you hug Slim and the rest of the instrument players.

“Not ‘bout how I feel, ‘s ‘bout how you feel,” Elijah sighs. This makes Elias turn towards his brother.

“Don’t know what’chu waitin’ on, already been years,” Elijah then pauses before continuing, “Don’t be surprised when somebody see what’chu see.” Elijah trails off, almost ominously, and nods his head in your direction.

Elias follows his twin’s trail of sight and spots you: talking to a man he ain’t even seen before. You were beaming, your hair a little frizzed up by the humidity, your lipgloss smudged a little onto your shimmering skin.

Speaking of your lipgloss—whoever you’re talking to decided to rub his finger below your lip to wipe it away. Right now, Elias’ demeanor resembles the snake him and his brother killed earlier: cold and unmoving.

You glance around the sea of bodies, and Elias takes this as a sign. He starts to walk up to you, but not before having to mumble several ‘excuse me’s while side-stepping quite a few people—who seem to not be able to hold their liquor.

He finally reaches you, and he gets a glimpse of you over the guy’s shoulder, who has no idea he’s even there.

“We got a problem?” Elias murmurs, making the stranger nearly jump out of his skin.

“N-nah man,” the man chuckles awkwardly as he faces Elias.

“I reckon we do, since y’talkin’ to my lady,” Elias replies, sizing him up as he takes a step closer to him. The man takes a step back in return.

“I ain’t know, I-I’m sorry, Stack,” the man trembles meekly. Elias only hums. The man glances between the two of you before making himself scarce.

Elias stays in the same spot for a beat, before turning and giving you a look that says let’s go, before walking towards one of the back rooms of the joint. You hesitate, before inching behind him.

“So I’m y’lady now?” You don’t bother to tone down the sass in your voice.

“‘S what I said, ain’t it?” he mumbles, not even looking at you.

You scoff, “Yeah, well, y’got a funny way a’ showin’ it.”

Elias pulls you into a dimly lit room and finally faces you as you stand before him. “What’s that s’possed to mean?”

You narrow your eyes at him before speaking. “Means I saw you messin’ with ole Mary.”

“She don’t mean nun to me,” Elias guaffs. “Why d’ya think she left already?”

You roll your eyes and begin to head out the door you just came from. You’re not sure where this attitude just came from, in all honesty. The moment your eyes met him while you were on stage, it felt as if everything else had faded away, and it was just the two of you.

Maybe it was the irritation caused by Mary that left you in a sour mood now, you’re not sure. You know it won’t be beneficial to you nor Elias in this moment, but you can’t help it.

Elias grabs your wrist before you can get too far away from him.

“She ain’t nun, y’hear?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he almost sounded desperate. You stay quiet.

“Asked you a question, sugar. ‘N with that attitude of yours, I ain’t fixin’ to repeat myself.” His lips ghost the shell of your ear as he speaks, and heat twinges through your stomach. Elias seems to take notice of the subtle switch in your demeanor; he smirks and his chocolate brown irises darken even further.

“I…I don’t believe you,” You almost whisper, but still meet his gaze.

Almost immediately, he responds with, “What I got to do to convince you, baby?” Elias matches your tone, but there’s still a hint of assertiveness conveyed through his words.

You don’t speak—it’s almost like you couldn’t, but you release your wrist from his grasp gently.

Elias’ jaw clenched slightly, but you still spot it. He looks as if he’s pondering his next words.

“‘S not makin’ sense, darlin’. I mean, you were acting like a whore on stage, now you don’t want me to touch you?” He cocks his head at you and your lips part—like it was reflex, and maybe it was. Elias clicks his tongue.

Your breath picks up, and if your mind weren’t turning fuzzy, you would’ve chided yourself for making a fool out of yourself in front of a man—Elias at that.

The man you’ve yearned for longer than you can even remember.

“I ain’t no whore,” you speak, finally regaining your senses.

“That right, sugar?” You can feel Elias’ breath on your heated face, and all you can do is nod in return.

“Y’wanna know what I think?” Before you can answer the question Elias poses, he murmurs lowly, “I think that deep down….You are a whore—and you needa be fucked like one.”

Despite the vulgarity of his words, the way that Elias places his palm across your cheek is soft—loving, even.

You press your thighs together through your dress unconsciously, desperately seeking even an ounce of friction to cool the impending heat between your legs.

Elias takes the hand that rested upon your cheek and moved it to the stiff rim lock that resided on the door’s surface.

Thank god—You’d hate for the likes of someone such as Sammie barging in and being witness to sin hotter than the Mississippi sun.

Elias then starts to walk you back to the table that remained bare in the dingy-lit room, removing his suit jacket and vest, followed by his tie. The backs of your knees meet the edge of the firm table, making you stumble just a bit. Elias takes it upon himself to lay you down onto the table.

You rest on your elbows as you look up at the six-foot-something man in front of you, and you can’t help but swoon. His beating eyes look down at you lustfully—almost as if he were a predator, and you his prey.

It made you weak.

Weak at the hands of a man you’d been waiting on while he had the time of his life in Chicago, with all sorts of Italian customs. Your actions are beyond halfwitted, but you make no effort to straighten yourself out anymore.

Elias takes his warm hands and spreads your knees with ease after unbuttoning his shirt, making you yelp involuntarily at the near-abrasiveness. He licks his grillz and lets out a short, deep chuckle; you feel it vibrate your bones, while he aligns himself so that almost he’s eye-level with your warm core.

“Elias, wait—“ You whimper meekly,

He hums disapprovingly, letting out a firm ‘mm-mmn’. He rips his gaze from your thighs to your eyes, “Been waitin’ for years, sugar, not sure if I can any longer.” He repositions his hands, lifting your dress and hitching it up to your upper thighs, nearly to your pelvic bone.

Elias massages your thighs with an iron grip, it’s not yet rough, but not exactly gentle either. His switch between the two is making your mind reel.

He kisses up from your knee almost to where your dress bunches up as he removes his button-up, leaving him in his undershirt. He then says, “…So, m’sorry if I lose m’manners,” he breathes hotly against your skin, “But I don’t think I can live without destroying this pussy for a minute longer.” He damn near groans.

His mouth hovers above your clothed cunt—he purposely breathes in a way that makes you squirm at the feeling you’re unable to run from. As you shudder and tilt your head back, you suddenly hear a rip and you feel a gust of air.

You gasp and look down, where you’re met with Elias looking up at you cheekily, with one half of your panties in his mouth, and the other in his hand.

“‘Lias!” You exclaim.

Elias feigns innocence, “Told ya I ain’t mean no harm.” He then averts his focus to your legs, and he leaves a kiss to your mound.

“Y’not gon let me freshen up, will ya?” You ask quietly, already knowing the answer.

Instead of answering, Elias takes his tongue and trails it from your hole to your clitoris, and you puff out the air you didn’t know you were holding in.

Elias seems to enjoy your reaction, for he then gives you another long lick.

And another,

and another,

and you guessed it, another.

You press your lips together, muting your sounds, and Elias ‘tsk’s at the sight.

He nips a bit of the skin next to your lips, making you choke on your own spit. “Don’t like how quiet you’re bein’.” Elias reprimands you.

“Stop t-teasin’ then,” You manage to huff.

Elias chuckles in disbelief, “Wanted to be gentle, but y’makin’ it hard,” he then lifts you up from the table, and places his back where you once laid. He hooks your legs over the sides of his head, your pussy now inches away from his plump, shining lips.

Elias’ typical, million-dollar smirk is back on his face, but there’s something more sinister behind it—your legs would’ve buckled if he weren’t holding them.

“You’re a whore, jus’ like I said y’were.” His southern drawl makes your stomach twist in knots, despite the familiarity. Before you could get a word out, Elias placed you onto his face.

You mewl at the feeling of his tongue swirling around anywhere, and everywhere.

Your clit, your lips—it was almost as if he were starving.

There was no rhythm, no harmony and contentment, just the actions of a man on a mission.

A mission to make you scream louder than the birds on your farm.

Then, abruptly, Elias leaves a small, yet firm slap to your clit. “Admit it,” he says between licks. “Admit that you’re a whore.” He leaves another slap.

You don’t respond, too caught up in both the pain and pleasure. Your head hangs back and your eyes are clenched shut, and Elias grows impatient.

He removes his mouth from you with a ‘pop’ and almost snarls at you, “Thought I told ya Ion like repeatin’ myself.” He slaps your clit again, this time with more force.

“Okay—Okay! I was bein’ a whore tonight, ‘m sorry!” You cry out as your back arches.

Elias starts to lower you towards his grinning face, and you shiver at the feeling of his cold grillz.

Instead of teasing kitten-licks, Elias sucks at your slit and lets his tongue roam freely, without a care in the world. You writhe and whine on top of him, your body bending back and creating a dull aching sensation.

His advances are relentless, and you have no chances of escaping his grasp; he readjusts his grip as soon as he feels you start to slip away from him. You don’t know whether to clench around his tongue as he fucks you with it, or to cry–you end up doing both, and this continues on for who knows how long.

You’ve stopped counting the number of orgasms you’ve had after the second one–you think–but you think Elias has been keeping track. He’s muttered ‘jus’ one more, sugar’ maybe three times now, and you don’t know how many you have left in you at this point.

After what feels like hours, Elias finally lifts your hips up, allowing you to slide down and straddle his hips with your head resting upon his chest.

The beating sound of his steady heart fills your ear, and you try to match your breathing with Elias’. You feel a vibration as he shakes with laughter. You slightly drag your head up just enough to peek at his face, and he looks down at you with amusement.

“We ain’t done, not yet, peach,” he chuckles breathily at the wave of surprise that washes over your face.

You fumble with your words, “What d’ya mean? ‘L-Lias, I-I’m spent!” You continue to tremble in his arms.

“Y’still talkin’, ain’t ya, sugar?” He scoffs, it’s antagonizing. And before you can utter anything else, Elias flips you around onto the table, so you now lay with your back on the wood once again. Your dress rides down a tad at the sudden movement, and Elias holds your back, lifting you so that he can push your dress up past your breasts.

Elias lowers your back, before leaning peck your nipples. You bite your lip, but quickly let out a moan once he blows air onto your nipples, watching almost menacingly as they harden. One hand tweaks one of your nipples, as the other drags down your rib cage.

His hot, glistening tongue swishes around your tits, as he leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

He sucks harshly as you whimper beneath him. One of his hands leaves your body and goes down to his slacks, he unbuttons them with ease without even looking, as he continues to leave hickies on your chest.

He untucks himself from his underwear, and you can’t help but buck towards his cock in anticipation.

“Easy, girl. You’ll get it when ya prove y’deserve it,” Elias mocks, you whine in response.

“I deserve it, more than anybody else–y’know that, ‘Lias,” You plead in hopes of him giving you what you want.

“That right, baby? All this yours, nobody else's?” He challenges, starting to stroke his length.

You squeeze your eyelids together, almost as if you were personally pained by the question.

“Damn right,” You huff as you look at him with a sudden wave of fire blazing through your eyes. Elias scoffs with a mixture of incredulity and mirth.

“Yeah, baby–always been yours. Glad ya finally came to y’senses.” And with that, Elias pushes inside of you, and you let out a broken gasp.

Elias quickly finds his pace as he thrusts in and out of you rapidly. He nearly pulls entirely out of your dripping cunt–and you think he’s going to tease you again, but he then slams back into you roughly, making you cry out as your back arches into him.

You’re now chest-to-chest with Elias as he continues to pump into you with little regard to your overstimulation. The contact of skin makes your toes curl in your heels. Elias grunts at the feeling of you clamping down on his cock and bites forcibly at the flesh of your neck.

Elias groans–almost as if fucking you were the key to heaven’s gates. He takes his large palm and pushes it down onto your torso, making your sweating body meet the barely-covered, rumbling wood.

You weep helplessly and squirm as he keeps you pressed against the shaking table.

“Mmnf–”Lias! Please!” You cry yet again, but without knowing the reason behind it this time.

He doesn’t respond to your watery blabbering, instead putting your legs on either side of his shoulders. Elias slowly–and almost lovingly–kisses your ankle, before unclasping the latch of your heel and sliding it off of your foot, letting it hit the floor with a thump that neither of you seem to catch through the sounds of your bodies meeting.

You two damn-near become one.

He repeats his actions on your other leg, but this time he kisses from your calf to your ankle before removing your heel and letting it meet the ground with your matching one.

His hand grips at the ankle he just kissed, using it as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded; like an anchor. He then sucks and nips at your leg, quickly marking just above your ankle with a red bruise, which you know will be purple by the time the sun rises for morning.

You hiss when he bites a little too roughly, and he shows his sympathy by licking at the irritated skin, soothing the tender ache.

“That feel good, darlin’? Tell “Lias how much y’love it, peach, c’mon,” Elias coos, lifting his shirt up so he can get a proper view of your sex.

You babble through sobs intelligibly, mewling something along the lines of ‘so so good, ‘Lias!’—at least that’s what Elias makes of it.

“Can’t hear ya, baby. Ya gotta–fuck! Ya gotta speak a ‘lil louder f’me, hm?” Elias manages to speak through his panting and groaning. You bawl, hot tears dripping from your cheeks down to your chin.

“It feels so good–oh god—‘Lias!” You shriek, not caring about the volume of your crying. “Please don’t stop! Please, please, please–” You ramble with a slur.

If Elias ever felt guilty at the way he man-handling you, seeing your fucked-out expression made all his worries wash away at the sight of you: tongue hanging out, as your tears dribble into your open mouth.

Your panting grows more frantic, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s being let out more frequently as you feel another orgasm course through your veins. “‘Lias—cummin’! S-sh-it, I-I’m cummin’!”

Elias firmly plants his feet on the floor, repositioning the arm on your stomach onto your other leg so that he can fuck you even deeper–deep enough to create a slight bulge in your stomach with his throbbing tip. “Yeah, that’s it. Fall apart on this dick, y’know y’want to, sugar. Been dreamin’ ‘bout it f’years, huh?” He taunts.

You try to answer him, honestly! But he’s hitting your cervix just right and his abs rub against the backs of your thighs–it’s too much.

Elias thought you’ve learned by now that he doesn’t take silence for an answer, so to remind you, he gives your spent cunt a more forceful slap than before.

“Fuck—Yes! A-always been wantin’ you, ‘Lias,” you wail. “I-I never let nobody touch me! Nobody but you!” You exclaim without thinking.

This fuels Elias to quicken his pace; he almost fucking growls at your words, and he tightens your legs around himself–right now, as he feels himself getting closer and closer to climaxing, he has no plans on pulling out.

He continues to heave words of encouragement as fucks you ruthlessly through your orgasm.

You moan and blabber as your vision turns white, and your ears start to ring. Your toes curl and flex, and your nails scratch at the table, hands desperate for something to hold. Your voice then gives out, as your tongue lolls out of your mouth yet again.

Elias gives you a few more earth-stattering thrusts, before his seed fills your puffy, aching hole; the guttural groan that leaves his throat ups in pitch–nearly turning into a whimper.

He pumps his cum into you once more, before releasing your legs from his grip and laying down on top of you. As he half-lays-half-stands against the table, he feels as if a cold bucket of water was dumped onto him.

He can no longer focus on the tingling feeling that shoots from his skull to his toes, but now on the fact that he was the first man you’ve been with.

You spent your first time with him–in a rickety building he bought from a Klan member, on an even dingier table.

Elias then taps your face, just enough to get you to come back to your senses. You open your eyes with a lazy grin at the feeling of his seed mixed with yours, but when you’re met with his panicky expression, you quickly push yourself up–to the best of your ability.

“What? Wha’s wrong, ‘Lias?” You question worrisomely.

He allows himself to catch his breath before speaking, “Y’serious?” It’s all that he says.

You furrow your brows and tilt your head at him, “Bout what? Y’scarin’ me, Elias,” you chuckle awkwardly.

Had you said something you shouldn’t have?

A million thoughts run rampant throughout your mind.

“‘Bout all this,” he flails his hand, motioning to where your bodies had just met. “Was that really ya first time?” He speaks loudly, and you feel mortified.

Your breath catches in your throat. You confirm his worries, your voice softer than a freshly picked feather, “Yes.”

Elias takes a step back, and it takes everything in you not to reach out for him. Instead, you sit up fully and push your dress back down to your thighs. You twiddle your thumbs idly, seeking for even an ounce of comfort as Elias pushes his shirt back down and tucks himself back into his boxers after wiping himself off with a rag. Despite his glowering, he hands you a rag so that you can wipe away the slick from between your thighs.

Did he regret spending the night with you? Did he find the fact that you remained a virgin because of him embarrassing?

“Why you ain’t tell me, girl?” He exclaims, “I wouldn’t have said and done all that foolishness if I knew you ain't never been with a man before!”

You feel your soul come back into your body. “You would’ve been all sweet with me? That whatcha sayin’, ‘Lias?” You can’t help but giggle.

“Ain’t nothin’ funny, woman! I was all rough with you ‘n–” You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer to you. You fold your arms around his neck, and you feel his hands drift down to your waist and squeeze lightly. Your nose nudges his, his breath fans your face as yours does his.

You break the kiss when you feel yourself losing your breath, and you gaze at Elias lovingly.

“You were perfect, I couldn’t imagine it any other way,” you whisper.

“Well for starters, could've gotten you a bed in the house ‘stead of a table in this dark ass room,” Elias grumbles.

You grin, “I think the lightin’ was just fine. Added ambience ‘n all that.” Elias pouts, and you peck his lips.

“I don’t care ‘bout the details, “Lias. Long as it was with you.” Your tone is as sweet as the finest honey in Clarksdale, and it pulls on Elias’ heartstrings.

“Y’really waited all these years….For me?” He whispers.

“Course I did, couldn’t imagine bein’ with anybody else.” You speak just as softly. You recognize the guilt that crosses his face, despite his best efforts to mask it with his bravado. “Don’t feel guilty, please. I don’t blame you for nun.” You caress his hair. Silence fills the room as Elias deciphers what to say, you just hold him tenderly until he’s ready.

“I-I love ya, more than y’know, sugar…” He trails off before finishing his sentence, “I jus’ want ya to know that. I have since we was young.” He looks at you with adoration and love in his eyes.

“I love you too, Elias Moore. Have since you stood up to my daddy on his farm f’me when we was seven.”

He smiles, but it’s tight lipped, making you frown. “Jus’ wish I could’ve admitted it sooner. Then this would’ve went down differently—would’ve been better.” He sulks.

You take your thumb and index finger and pluck his lips, making him shout ‘hey!’ with a laugh.

“Stop beatin’ y’self up, Elias. I told you, I’m perfectly happy here, right now. Ain’t nun gon’ change that a bit.” You scold him.

“If ya stop all that moppin’, I’ll let ya try again tomorrow, however y’want,” you giggle mischievously. Elias’ eyes light up almost immediately, the way he perks up reminds you of a puppy that was just given a treat.

Elias roars with laughter and squeezes you, before lowering you back down onto the table, he presses nearly all of his weight onto you.

You squeal and cackle as he tickles your sides, “‘Lias!”

You lay wrapped up with Elias, you felt as if you could lay there forever, and honestly in this moment, you wanted to.

Clarity and revelations do the body good.

Everything was good.

Until you heard a commotion on the other side of the door.

[ofthemorningstars]

My Shadow (Chapter 1)

TerzOmega ~ Smut ~ Romance (New Relationships) ~ Cardinal Terzo

7.3k words

AO3 Version

"All Terzo could think of in that moment was what it would feel like to be manhandled by those big, strong arms. Feeling his face grow hot, he turned on the spot and walked in the opposite direction as fast as he could without drawing attention, forgetting where he was going. Thankfully, Omega didn’t seem to have spotted him. Fuck, Terzo needed another cigarette."

The story of how a young Cardinal Terzo met and fell in love with a certain quintessence ghoul.

AKA: The one where Terzo is an emotionally unavailable slut.

Chapter 2 (hopefully) coming next week!

Content Warning: percieved stalking

___

A ghoul summoning was the last place Terzo wanted to be on a Sunday night after a long day of unholy services. The previous night had been his twenty-first birthday celebration, and despite it being nearly twenty-four hours later, the young cardinal still had a raging hangover. While Terzo loved the ghouls, indeed had far more ghoul friends than human, this summoning was just one of dozens he’d attended. Besides, he’d had plans to meet up with a new sibling that night, one he hadn’t already bedded. It was easy to grow bored of rotating through the same siblings night after night; he needed something new, a fresh body. Now, though, he’d have to postpone their… formal introduction.

As Primo droned on and on through his rites and recitations, Terzo felt himself zone out. It was all he could do to cope with his headache and nausea, made worse by the cloyingly sweet smell of incense. Just as he’d begun to doze off where he stood, Copia elbowed him hard in the ribs. Despite his irritation, he was grateful for his little brother looking out for him. Even if no one else acknowledged Copia as Nihil’s secret child, not even Terzo’s older brothers or Nihil himself, Terzo would die before he turned his back on his fratellino. Copia was perhaps the only human friend he had in this world. 

“Wake up, dickhead. If Nihil catches you dozing off, he’ll put you on kitchen duty for a week. I don’t want to get diarrhea again, you’re a terrible cook,” Copia snickered. Terzo turned to glare at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I will have you know I am an excellent cook. Just not for Nihil. He deserves the slop he gets,” Terzo retorted. Copia hummed in agreement. 

Now more awake but still bored out of his mind, Terzo’s thoughts wandered to the new sibling he’d blown off tonight, and not in the way he’d wanted to. What was his name, Julian? Or was it Marcus? No matter, it’s not like they’d be spending much time talking. Terzo’s reputation preceded him; everyone who agreed to spend a night with him knew exactly what they were getting into, even newcomers. Men, women, it didn’t matter, as long as they were somewhat attractive and close to his age. Anything to cut through the boredom of life at the ministry, to blow off a little of the steam constantly building within him before he cracked under the pressure of being an Emeritus. 

Well. He said it didn’t matter, but if he were being honest with himself, he supposed he preferred the company of men. He enjoyed his nights with women just fine, but being taken by a man was a thrill unlike any other. Internally, he struggled with his preferences and his relationship to his masculinity. He was short for a man, standing at around five feet seven inches tall. Certainly the shortest of his brothers. His frame was lean, although muscular, with long eyelashes and pouty lips. Sometimes he wondered how much of his time spent with women was him compensating for his insecurities. 

Ugh. Now was not the time for introspection. Terzo pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. Wincing in pain as he heard the familiar ear-splitting sound of their summoned ghouls materializing, Terzo reluctantly took a peek. As his blurry vision came into focus, he saw five figures standing in the center of the summoning circle, surrounded by ancient symbols and black candles. Terzo always thought these rituals were a little cliché. Whatever worked, he supposed. At least it was finally almost over. 

The group of ghouls was comprised of two females and three males. Before anyone had a chance to see their exposed bodies, they were swarmed by clergy members, who quickly dressed them in their new uniforms. Terzo always felt bad for the newbies. They looked so vulnerable, so confused. From all of Terzo’s time spent socializing in the ghoul wing, he figured they must be; they were ripped from a veritable paradise, suddenly thrust into a cruel reality where lowly mortals cruelly subjugated them. In the pit they reigned, living in total freedom, but on Earth they were servants. It made Terzo’s blood boil. One day, when he was in charge… Well. If he made it that far, he supposed. 

“Holy shit, bro,” Copia whispered as he elbowed him again, harder this time. “Look at the size of that one.” He didn’t have to specify which one.

Towering above his brethren was a large male, broad-shouldered with muscles that were evident even through his new clothing. Dark horns curved gracefully back above his head, their soft angles almost fluid. White hair hung in tousled waves nearly to his shoulders, obscuring his face, and Terzo couldn’t stop his curiosity about what those silvery locks were hiding. As though reading his mind, the ghoul pushed his hair back with long, clawed fingers, revealing a strikingly handsome face. An elegant aqualine nose sat above full lips, framed by high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Ghouls had their own unique skintones based on their element, and his was the soft, muted purple-grey of dusk. Quintessence, unmistakably. 

Suddenly the ghoul’s eyes snapped up to meet Terzo’s gaze. Electricity shot through Terzo, his heart stopping before hammering loudly in his ears. Even from across the room, those fiery violet irises pierced through to his core, standing out against the inky black sclera shared by all ghouls. Terzo lost track of time, mesmerized. Mercifully the ghoul’s eyes darted away, the stranger shifting uncomfortably, almost looking nervous.

“Do you see him?” Copia called out a little too loudly. “Damn, I haven’t seen one that big since Stone!” Terzo was dazed, trying to recover from whatever the fuck just happened. Clumsily running his hands through his hair, he cleared his throat. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering back to that ghoul. 

“T-the one next to him is nearly as big, the fire ghoul.” Fire ghouls were unmistakable, their skin a dull garnet-red. This one looked pissed, and Terzo couldn’t blame him. “He is only half a head shorter.” 

“Yeah, but he’s not all beefy like the purple one! That guy is built !” Copia’s volume rose, sounding like he was in awe, and Terzo inexplicably felt his face grow hot. 

“Will you shut the fuck up before the old man gets pissed off at us?! We really will get stuck on kitchen duty!” Terzo hissed at his younger half-brother. Copia pulled a face, but quieted and looked forward. Thankfully, Nihil wasn’t glaring in their direction the way he usually would when they got up to their shenanigans during ceremonies. If he heard them whispering, he ignored them. Good. This night couldn’t be over soon enough. Especially with the way that quintessence ghoul kept glancing over at him, eyes lingering until he realized he’d been caught. 

Terzo didn’t bother to contact tonight’s potential conquest after the summoning was finally over. He simply collapsed onto his bed once he reached his chambers, not bothering to shower or remove his eye makeup or even change out of his cassock.

The next morning at breakfast, Terzo had nearly forgotten about the night before. Thankfully, his headache had finally eased off, and his appetite had returned. Speeding through his meal in his effort to find that sibling, whatever the hell his name was, to reschedule, he didn’t notice the way his brothers were gawking at him. 

“Slow down there, piggy. You’d think you’d never seen scrambled eggs before,” Secondo derided. Terzo pointedly ignored him, taking a large bite out of his toast. 

“Did you not eat at all yesterday?” Primo chimed in. “What, your hangover that bad?” At least there was a note of genuine concern. “You really need to stop drinking like your mother, you know. That woman looked twice her age and was half as sane as Nihi before she died. That’s saying something.” Ice shot through Terzo’s veins. 

“Shut up,” Terzo muttered. “It is not that bad. I am nothing like that woman.” Fuck, he sure hoped he wasn’t. Despite Primo’s aloof and uncaring facade, Terzo knew he meant well. While he couldn’t say the same for Secondo, Primo had been there for him when no one else was, despite being just ten when Secondo was born, and seventeen when Terzo arrived. 

Primo practically raised Terzo and Secondo, their father being nothing more than an authoritarian tyrant, there only to punish them for their perceived wrongdoings. Terzo’s mother saw him and his younger half-sister as little more than pests, a pair of inconveniences standing between her and the bottle. Letting the ghouls and his oldest half-brother care for him was the best thing she’d ever done for Terzo. Secondo’s mother was better, but only just, always pitting her son against his half-brothers. Nihil sure knew how to pick ‘em. 

Before Primo could open his mouth again to continue scolding him, Terzo felt a hand on his shoulder. He bristled until he recognized the voice of his younger brother. 

“Feeling better I see, big guy? I take it you didn’t go find that new sibling after all,” Copia teased. “His name is Marcus, by the way, and he’s looking for you. I see word of your eh, skills, has gotten around. I bet he–” 

“Shoo, rat boy. Get lost, go sit at your own table,” Secondo rudely interjected. Terzo froze for a second before whipping his head around to glare daggers at Secondo. 

“Leave him alone, you ugly balding fuck.” Terzo spat. “It is not his fault that Father will not allow him to sit with his own brothers.” Secondo glowered at him, disgust and contempt painted across his face. 

“That vermin is no brother of mine. ” Secondo’s voice was dripping with hatred. Incensed, Terzo slammed his fork down and stalked out of the great hall, leaving his plate behind for someone else to clean up. He didn’t give a shit about that right now. 

Terzo was quietly fuming in the courtyard when Copia found him. The two fledgling Cardinals sat together in silence for what felt like ages, Terzo unsure of what to say. Unsure of what to say to someone whose shared family treated him so cruelly, denied his very link to their bloodline so vehemently. 

“Hey man, it’s ok, don’t worry about me,” Copia finally spoke. “I’m used to it by now. They’re never gonna see me as Nihil’s son, just his whipping-boy.” Terzo’s heart twisted in his chest. “Besides, what if I’m not–” Copia started, but Terzo knew what he was about to say and was hearing none of it. 

“Oh, not this again. Of course you are his son, dipshit. Look in the fucking mirror, look at your eye! There is no one in the world who would have that eye but an Emeritus.” Terzo had an aggressive way of reassuring his little brother, but he just got so fed up with Copia’s self-doubt. 

More than that, though, he was fed up with the doubt and denial from everyone around him. Especially from Nihil. Nihil, whose whoring outpaced Terzo’s, hell, even Secondo’s. Only idiots refused to use contraception, and only cowards refused to face the consequences of their actions. But, why deny one of your sons when you already had three from different mothers? It would never make sense to him. 

“Yeah?” Copia’s voice was quiet, maybe even meek. “You really think the old man is my old man?”

Even though he was raised as an orphan, Copia had been born at the same Italian abbey where Terzo and their brothers were raised. And yet, somehow, they’d never crossed paths until Nihil moved his three eldest sons to America when Terzo was twelve. Copia had been sent to the very same American abbey at the age of six. Nihil had no reason to have hidden him away, to have kept him a secret, unless Copia was his progeny. 

And that eye… There was no other bloodline that possessed that accursed, infernal white eye. So much had been traded for that eye, so much blood spilled. With it came a heavy burden, a price they all paid. It was cruel not to validate the sacrifices that Copia, too, had made. 

“Sì. I have never been more sure of anything.” Terzo meant it. “Fuck all of these idiots. You are my brother. Just because Nihil hides you doesn’t mean you’re any less an Emeritus.”

They talked for a while longer before it was time to start their work day. Work was boring, the same classes, sermons, confessionals, and chores as always. Terzo’s days were an obligation, an obstacle, something standing between him and the life he led by night. Sweating above—or beneath—someone was far more interesting than sweating with a scrub brush in hand. 

Marcus, as Terzo learned the new sibling was named, was waiting for him in his new quarters. The siblings didn’t have the best accommodations, but at least they had their own bathrooms and showers. The poor ghouls had private rooms, too, but with little more than a bed and a desk. Their bathrooms were communal, like what he’d heard university dorms were like. Terzo and the other cardinals had spacious suites, equipped with bathtubs, separate sitting rooms, and kitchenettes. Terzo knew that some day, he would be upgraded to the Papal suite. He didn't want the heavy burden of responsibility he knew came with it, though. 

As he walked to Marcus’s quarters, Terzo tried hard to ignore the eerie feeling of being watched. 

Maybe it was all in his head, but… No, there it was again, the sound of footsteps echoing across the courtyard. He was sure of it. For reasons he couldn’t explain, in that moment, he didn’t feel threatened. All he felt from this strange presence was… curiosity. It felt harmless. Besides, after two days of pent-up frustrations, Terzo didn’t have time for a confrontation. Being observed was the least of his worries. Trying to brush it off and get on with his night, he kept walking, never indicating that he’d caught on to being observed. 

As the week wore on, being followed by this presence while he was outdoors became a nightly occurrence. Growing angry at this gross invasion of his privacy, Terzo reached a breaking point on Sunday. 

After another long day of services, all Terzo wanted was to get off, so he was on his way to meet a sibling named August. Unfortunately he had been turned away; this August fellow claimed to be ill only after Terzo had already arrived at his door. So there he was, frustrated and in search of a good time.  Being stalked , though, wasn’t Terzo’s idea of a good time. He had to put a stop to this bullshit. 

“Ok, weirdo, enough is enough,” Terzo said, his voice low, lethally quiet as he stopped dead in his tracks. The world around him went silent as whoever was lurking in the shadows held their breath. He crossed his arms. “I am not the fool you seem to take me for, and I do not appreciate you violating me this way. Stop being a coward. Show yourself!” 

Hearing a sharp inhale from behind him, Terzo spun around to see two eyes cutting through the darkness, gaze fixed on him. Two burning, violet eyes. 

“Come on now, show yourself!” Terzo repeated, louder this time. He was done fucking around. 

Emerging from behind a column and into a pale beam of full moonlight was someone Terzo didn’t expect, someone he’d been trying hard not to think about since last week. It was that massive quintessence ghoul. Terzo felt his face grow hot, anger and something else bubbling up inside him. The ghoul had the nerve to look sheepish, even embarrassed, as he rubbed the back of his neck. Oh, that wouldn’t do.

“So it is you who has been spying on me, then,” Terzo taunted with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I am very disappointed in you, quintessence ghoul. I thought your ilk were supposed to be more sensitive than that.” 

“I–I’m sorr–” the ghoul meekly started, but Terzo cut him off. 

“You have been following me every night this week, you brute! Invading my privacy, lurking in the shadows, intruding on my life. Darkening my evenings and making me feel unsafe. Oh, but you’re sorry, so I suppose all should be forgiven, then?” Some distant corner of Terzo’s mind thought that perhaps he was being a bit cruel, a little unfair, but he was dealing with too much pent-up frustration to care. This ghoul was making for the perfect punching bag. Terzo approached, eventually standing so close that they were nearly chest to chest. “A whole week of wordlessly stalking me like some spineless creep, and I am supposed to forgive and forget because you are sorry ?!” He glared up at the much taller man 

Terzo watched the ghoul’s face flush darker and darker as he shifted his weight. A buzzing, electric tension hung heavy in the air. The smell of sweet spices and rich sandalwood filled Terzo’s nose. He couldn’t explain it if he tried, but something in him wanted to reach out and touch the stranger. It was undeniable that he’d felt drawn to this particular ghoul from the moment he laid eyes upon him. He chalked it up to the ghoul’s stature, trying not to dwell on the feeling. Despite his anger, he couldn’t stop himself from imagining what it might feel like to be beneath this man. To feel those big, strong hands on his body. The vainest parts of him almost felt flattered that such a fine specimen chose to fixate on him. 

Taking half a step back, Terzo looked the stranger over from head to toe. The ghoul’s white hair had been cut, cropped close on the sides, with what remained on the top pulled back into a neat bun. His face was covered with a dusting of white stubble, as though it had been a couple of days since he’d last shaved. The standard-issue ghoul uniform he wore was spotless and looked freshly pressed, the black fabric blending in with the night. What, was he getting inspection-ready just to follow a cardinal? And besides, ghouls had Sundays off and were allowed to dress casually. So why was he still in uniform if he didn’t have to be? Perhaps as a freshly summoned ghoul, he didn’t have any street clothes to wear yet. Terzo felt a pang of sympathy at the thought, one that Terzo felt was far kinder than what the stranger deserved. 

Regardless, Terzo couldn’t help but think that the look suited him. His haircut seemed made for him, perfectly framing his face. The ghoul somehow managed to make the shapeless cassock look attractive, even without a cincture or pellegrina. Terzo always hated that they dressed the ghouls this way, their only adornment being the white embroidered grucifix on the left breast, a symbol of their captors. To strip such beings of their majesty and dignity and parade them around in glorified potato sacks was a cruel abuse of power. Terzo watched as Omega nervously fidgeted with one of the thirteen buttons on his cassock, representing the thirteenth guest at the last supper, Judas Iscariot.

“Hmph.” Terzo huffed, even angrier after his appraisal than he had been beforehand. “Watching me from the darkness, following me everywhere, every single night! Who do you think you are, my shadow?!” Terzo hissed, fearlessly poking the massive ghoul squarely in the chest. “Well listen here, mia ombra , I–”

“Omega,” the ghoul interjected, seeming to have found his voice, although it sounded unsteady. Terzo’s eyebrows shot up, then furrowed. 

“I beg your pardon?” Terzo said incredulously, rocking back on his heels. The ghoul swallowed hard and cleared his throat. 

“Omega. M-my name is Omega.” An inexplicable thrill shot through Terzo at hearing the ghoul speak. His voice was deep and rich, pleasing to the ears. 

At first, Omega froze and made a surprised sound, his hands flying up near his head as if in surrender. After a beat, though, the ghoul began kissing back feverishly, almost desperately. Almost as though this was what he’d been after all along. Unthinking, Terzo backed him up against the column Omega had been hiding behind, his hands roaming Omega’s broad, muscled chest of their own accord. Terzo’s tongue slipped into Omega’s mouth, being met with just as much enthusiasm, tangling with the ghoul’s… forked tongue?! A smug smile threatened to break their kiss as Terzo’s body practically hummed with excitement. Excitement over just what that tongue might be capable of, over what this night might bring after all. Omega's mouth tasted sweet, the drag of his stubble pleasant against Terzo's skin. Omega’s skin was hotter than any human’s, its warmth nearly burning. Terzo almost found it soothing.

“Well, Omega. What do you have to say for yourself?” Terzo couldn’t explain why, but by this point he could feel his heart racing so fast that he feared this Omega could hear it.

“I… I just wanted to… Y-you’re just so… And I couldn’t–” As Omega stammered, their eyes locked, the contact inexplicably charged and intense and powerful. Between this strange intensity and his own growing frustration, as well as his physical attraction to the ghoul’s strikingly handsome visage… Not to mention his size. Wow, his size. The way he towered over Terzo, made him feel so small by comparison. That was something he hadn't thought he'd like so much. Terzo didn’t know when or how or why, but he found himself yanking Omega’s face down to his level by his uniform, roughly kissing this stranger. Better to take out his sexual frustration on an attractive weirdo than to be left to deal with it alone, he supposed. Terzo wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with going to bed with strangers. 

Needing to catch his breath, Terzo pulled back, pleased at how Omega tried to follow his lips. Taking another moment to drink Omega’s form in, Terzo was somehow more pleased than on his first evaluation. So handsome, so broad, so muscled. So big. The longer Terzo looked at him, the fewer reasons he could think of to stop. And, well, he had been on his way to have sex with another man; it’s not like he wasn’t ready. Terzo was primped, polished, and prepared, as always. He never presented any of his lovers with anything but his very best, interchangeable though those lovers may be. 

“You will do, I suppose,” came Terzo’s haughty declaration, but there was a slight tremor in his voice. He made up for the show of vulnerability by dragging Omega by his uniform in the direction of his own quarters, not letting go until he was confident that the ghoul would follow his lead. Judgment clouded by desire as it was, Terzo gave little regard in that moment to who else might be watching. 

When they arrived at their destination and the door was locked behind them, Terzo undid the first button of Omega’s uniform and directed him to strip. Terzo stripped as well with little fanfare, pleased to see the dazed, hungry expression on Omega’s face, the ghoul’s eyes glued to Terzo’s naked body. The human was enjoying what he could already see of Omega, too: thick, strong muscles, his chest covered in a smattering of white hair that Terzo was aching to bury his fingers in. That hair led enticingly through the v of his hips, begging to be followed. Every inch of dusky skin was more tantalizing than the one before it. 

Hesitant at first, Omega took a deep breath and shed his final layers, allowing his manhood to spring free. Terzo quietly gasped, momentarily stunned. The ghoul was rock-hard and flushed, and more importantly, huge. Leagues bigger than any partner he’d ever had. Bigger than anything he’d ever seen . Terzo’s face split into a wicked grin as he throbbed with anticipation. He began to touch where he knew Omega wanted him most, taking the ghoul in hand. Terzo greedily swallowed Omega’s groans, unable to resist the draw of Omega’s kiss. Soon Terzo's lips began wandering down Omega's neck, his throat, nipping and sucking, leaving a trail of dark purple marks behind him. The heady smell of sandalwood and clove and dark florals filled Terzo’s senses. 

“Mm, yes, you like that, big boy, don’t you?” Terzo purred in Omega's ear as he touched him, barely reaching even on his tiptoes. He gave Omega a squeeze just to hear him whimper, cutting him off with a kiss before he could answer.

Terzo rubbed himself on Omega’s thigh, riding up against the larger man. “Is this what you wanted all this time? For me to take you home and fuck you?” Omega still seemed shy, despite kissing back like he needed the taste of Terzo’s mouth to survive. The ghoul kept his hands to himself, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. Terzo growled in frustration, needing to be touched, to use and be used. Backing Omega into the bed, Terzo pushed his unexpected guest onto the plush mattress, being met with no resistance. As Omega got comfortable on his back, Terzo circled around to the nightstand. Peeking over his shoulder, he was pleased to see Omega staring at him with open, wide-eyed want. Omega’s chest was already heaving, his hands balled into fists. 

After fishing a bottle of lube and a condom out of the nightstand, Terzo sauntered back to where Omega waited. Climbing onto the bed and mounting Omega, mere inches from where he wanted to be, Terzo leaned forward to kiss the ghoul again, licking up into his mouth and biting his lip. Their cocks rubbed together, friction eased by their precum. Terzo felt dwarfed by the larger man, and he was surprised to find only excitement where usually there would be insecurities. Subtly he moved his hips, not wanting to get overstimulated this early on. Reluctantly, he pulled away from Omega’s mouth, just to bite down hard on Omega’s shoulder. Omega shuddered beneath him. Terzo didn’t understand why he felt drawn back to Omega’s lips, but he resisted the urge to take another kiss. He was being far too kind, this interaction bordering too close to what some might call lovemaking; all this stranger deserved was rough, impersonal fucking. 

Sitting up, Terzo tore open the condom wrapper, always wanting to stay clean and safe. One could never be too careful when at play, especially when you like to play with so many people. But as he went to roll it down Omega’s shaft, he realized that it would probably be a bit tighter than tonight’s sizeable partner would find comfortable. It might even tear, rendering the whole exercise futile. Quirking an eyebrow at the ghoul beneath him, he got a shrug in response. Fuck it, Terzo didn’t see the harm in throwing caution to the wind for one night. He didn’t think that immortal beings could even carry diseases, let alone pass them along to someone of a completely different species. This was his first time with a ghoul, though, so he had nothing to refer back to. They were gonna wing it.

Carelessly tossing the condom to the floor, Terzo grabbed the bottle of lube and coated the fingers of one hand. Impatient, Terzo slid one finger into himself, pumping slowly and soon adding a second. Omega’s eyes were wild, darting between Terzo’s hand and face. Curling his fingers, Terzo massaged his prostate, milking himself until he was dripping onto Omega’s thigh. He could see Omega biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. 

“Mm,” Terzo hummed. “You are such a big boy , I think I will need more.” He made a show of adding a third finger, smirking when he saw how Omega shivered. A fresh drip of precum beaded at Omega’s tip, and Terzo took that as his cue to move on to the main event. Withdrawing his fingers, Terzo squeezed more lube into his palm before slicking Omega. Omega hissed at the contact. Terzo carelessly wiped the excess lube on the sheets, too eager to care about the mess. 

Straddling Omega’s hips, Terzo lined himself up with Omega’s weeping cock. Slowly, slowly, Terzo sank down on the ghoul’s massive member, surprised when an involuntary moan tore its way from his throat. Terzo was a vocal lover, but usually not this early on. This was quite unlike any experience he’d ever had, though. Reminding himself to breathe, Terzo worked to relax his body. Looking up, he saw through blurred vision that Omega was squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He panted and moaned as he braced himself on the ghoul, holding himself up on shaking arms. 

Once Omega was fully seated within him and they were still, the ghoul cracked an eye open, his expression morphing into one of concern. Terzo realized too late that he must've looked pained. Omega’s hand flew up, reaching out as if to cradle Terzo’s face, but he quickly let it drop. 

“Are you ok?” There was a note of genuine fear in Omega’s voice. Terzo felt a bizarre pang of tenderness in his chest, one that he vehemently fought back. This was the creep that had been stalking him all week. If he really cared about Terzo’s well-being, Omega wouldn’t have violated his privacy. There were many things he’d let this man violate, but that wasn’t one of them. 

“Sì,” was all Terzo could manage to get out. Omega let out the breath he’d been holding in. Apparently feeling bolder, Omega’s hands found their way to Terzo’s plump, round ass and firm thighs, rubbing and squeezing, clawed fingers at last exploring Terzo’s form the way he’d been needing someone to all night. His body craved the worship it deserved, demanded an offering. “Someone is starting to come out of his shell, I see,” Terzo teased, and Omega grimaced. Determined to wipe the sour expression off of the ghoul’s face, Terzo tentatively began to move. He quickly found his rhythm, bouncing on this stranger’s cock like he belonged there. Omega let out a moan of his own, finally giving Terzo the response he’d been seeking. 

Terzo let his hands wander down his own body, tweaking nipples and tickling over tender flesh. When he reached his lower belly, he noticed a bulge, was able to feel Omega’s cock inside of him. Looking down, he could unmistakably see the impact of each thrust. He’d never felt so filled up in his life. Unable to fight back a shiver at this new sensation, Terzo threw his head back and picked up speed, groaning low and long. He heard a quiet growl from Omega as his hands traveled to Terzo’s hips, gripping tight and slamming the smaller man back down with every upward stroke. Terzo growled in return, his movements becoming sloppier, more aggressive. 

“Is this what you wanted, mia ombra? To fuck me?” Terzo’s tone was mocking as he continued to ride. His long, black painted nails scratched down Omega’s sides. Omega flushed impossibly darker, the ghoul daring to bare his fangs. Terzo felt Omega’s claws dig into his hips, and he idly wondered if he was drawing blood. Omega’s eyes were glued to where their bodies were joined, watching with rapt attention, as though hypnotized. “Too afraid to be a man and take me yourself? Was it worth stalking me from the shadows, invading my privacy?!” The more worked up Terzo was getting, the angrier he became about the situation they found themselves in. This could’ve been so much nicer, so much easier, if the ghoul simply had the balls to be up front about his attraction, rather than skulking like a coward. 

“If you want to use me for your entertainment, then I will use you for mine,” Terzo snarled through gritted teeth. “I will not be hunted like an animal!” Omega had no rebuttal, other than to thrust hard enough that Terzo saw stars. As the pair moved faster and harder together, Terzo felt himself approaching his limit. He wasn’t ready, didn’t want it to end, but he needed relief. Before he could reach for his aching cock, he was surprised to feel his body begin to tense. An intense wave of pleasure overtook him, an ocean of bliss he both feared and longed to drown in. A scream louder than he’d ever heard from himself in the bedroom was ripped from his lungs, his vision swimming before going white.

Distantly he heard Omega whimper in return, his grip on Terzo’s hips becoming impossibly tighter. Omega bucked wildly into him for what felt like an eternity to the overstimulated human, riding Terzo through his climax, but was in reality likely closer to thirty seconds. When Terzo felt Omega’s cock kick inside of him, felt a hot gush leak from him, Terzo collapsed, dead to the world. All that existed in that moment was the knowledge that he’d never been so thoroughly fucked in his life, never felt so satisfied. 

As his senses slowly returned one by one, Terzo realized that he was lying on top of Omega, his head on the ghoul’s chest, his body still trembling. Panicking at such quiet, intimate contact, Terzo’s instinct was to scramble, to flee. Terzo did not cuddle. Instead of running, he did his best to coolly pull himself off the man. Although he cringed at the the way their skin stuck together with his own cum, and although his legs were unbelievably shaky and weak, Terzo made it to the linen closet to find a towel. Cleaning himself first, he tossed the towel to Omega, who took a moment to stare at the ceiling before doing the same. Walking unsteadily to the coat rack, he pulled two cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket to calm his nerves. 

Terzo got back in bed, covering himself with the sheet and lighting up, taking a long drag. Casually he offered the other cigarette to Omega, glancing over at him only long enough to see him shake his head. 

“You know, you have a very talented cock,” Terzo said, the praise given in a very detached, impersonal sort of way. Omega flushed again and fidgeted, but thanked him with an awkward chuckle. “Oh, so you can speak,” Terzo jabbed. Omega fell silent. Just as well, Terzo thought. “There will be hell to pay if they saw us together tonight, you know. They might banish you.” To Terzo’s surprise, Omega barked a mirthless laugh. 

“Worth it. Send me home, it’s better than this place.” Omega sounded more jaded than Terzo expected. Terzo smiled to himself; perhaps he could relate to this ghoul after all. 

“My name is Terzo, by the way. At least, that is what you may call me.” Terzo didn’t elaborate on what that meant. He didn’t want to. Omega nodded. It was then that Terzo saw Omega close his eyes and settle against the headboard. He frowned. “Do not get too comfortable, Omega ghoul. I do not share a bed with someone unless they are in the act of pleasuring me.” Omega stiffened, then nodded wordlessly. Slow to get to his feet, Omega stood and began to get dressed, his back turned to Terzo. He saw the ghoul's spaded tail twitch in what could've been agitation, or could've been nerves. It didn't really matter which, considering he was leaving. Still, Terzo was almost sad to see such a beautiful being cover up, appreciating the view while he could.

Now fully clothed, Omega turned to face him, tugging up the collar of his cassock in a futile effort to hide the hickies Terzo left behind. Omega opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something. Instead, his eyes dropped to the floor. He turned and left without saying a word, thoughtfully turning the bottom lock before he shut the door. Exhausted, Terzo put out his cigarette and flopped back against his pillows, falling asleep without turning the lamp off or removing his smeared black eye makeup. 

The next morning was a blur, Terzo barely waking up in time to jump in the shower and scrub away the dried sweat and smell of sex. His legs still felt weak enough that he worried someone would notice he was walking funny. Terzo fucking or getting fucked was hardly newsworthy, but getting fucked this hard might raise a few eyebrows. 

Thankfully, Omega hadn’t left any visible marks behind for others to question. Terzo wondered why it almost irked him that he had nothing to show for his efforts. Well, nothing other than some dirty sheets and the deep scratches on both hips left behind by the ghoul’s claws. The sweet sting brought by his clothing rubbing against them was an unwanted reminder of a night he was trying to forget. That couldn’t happen again, it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. He never should’ve invited a stalker into his bed. The urge to do it again was dangerous and irrational. But Satanas, he’d never cum like that before, his cock completely untouched. He didn’t know he could. The scene kept replaying over and over in his mind, the sensations echoing even now.

Breakfast went off without a hitch, and by the time his lunch break started, Terzo assumed he was in the clear. That was, until a certain towering ghoul walked by, a massive bag of laundry Terzo knew to weigh well over one hundred pounds slung over his shoulder like it was nothing. All Terzo could think of in that moment was what it would feel like to be manhandled by those big, strong arms. Feeling his face grow hot, he turned on the spot and walked in the opposite direction as fast as he could without drawing attention, forgetting where he was going. Thankfully, Omega didn’t seem to have spotted him. Fuck, Terzo needed another cigarette. 

Skipping eating lunch in favor of chain-smoking in the courtyard, Terzo was suddenly startled by a hand on his shoulder. Much to his embarrassment, he yelped in surprise, his body jolting. Spinning around, he was relieved to see that it was only Copia. His nerves were shot. 

“Do not scare me like that, asshole!” Terzo scolded his brother, shoving his shoulder. “Fucking hell, I dropped my cigarette! You owe me another one.”

“Like you need another nail in your coffin,” Copia snarked. “How was your conquest last night?” he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Terzo’s heart leapt into his throat. 

“Who, August? Eh, he was mediocre at best,” Terzo said cooly, trying to keep his expression neutral. 

“That’s funny, because I heard August is sick. Stomach flu, nasty stuff.” There was danger in Copia’s words; they both knew where he was going with this. “You know, I could’ve sworn I saw you with someone else last night. Someone, eh… bigger. Greyer.” Ice shot through Terzo’s veins. Grabbing Copia by the ear, he ignored Copia’s pathetic protests and dragged him behind a column. 

“Keep your voice down!” Terzo hissed. “I do not know how you know, but you need to shut the fuck up about it before someone hears you!” Finally out of Terzo’s grip, Copia rubbed his ear, pouting and muttering to himself. 

“It was just a joke, man, lighten up!” Copia whined. “You know I don’t care who you fuck.”

“No, but everyone else will! I do not want to get in trouble, there is no telling what Nihil and the rabbid Imperator bitch will do to me if they found out I slept with a ghoul.” What Terzo didn’t mention was the guilt he’d feel if Omega faced punishment, too, especially after Terzo had been the one to initiate last night. “It is none of your business what I do in my free time.” 

“More like who you do,” Copia quipped. Terzo glared at him. Copia was unphased. “You know, if you’re going to see him again, you’re going to have to be sneakier than that. Go make out in Primo’s rose garden or something, no one ever goes out there but him. You can’t even see it from inside the building. Unlike the courtyard, where everyone could see you two practically fucking out in the open last night.” Terzo’s face flushed crimson. 

“There will not be a next time,” Terzo muttered. “I should not have done it this time.” He tried to sound more sure than he felt. 

“Yeah, sure there won’t.” Copia sounded incredulous. “Well. If you do decide to make you and this ghoul a thing, you’re going to need some help sneaking around. And I just so happen to know a guy,” he said, pointing to himself with both thumbs and looking incredibly proud of himself. Terzo rolled his eyes. 

“We are not going to be a thing! I do not even do things.” Terzo spat the last word with disgust. “Even if we did hook up again, it would never be a thing,” Terzo continued, miming air quotes around the offending phrase. Terzo realized too late that he was already giving himself room for the possibility of seeing Omega again with that statement. 

Terzo was in a fog for the rest of the day, going through the motions of his routine with little thought, making constant errors, nodding off during confessionals. As a last-minute decision, Terzo made plans to meet up with a Sister named Lillian that evening. Lillian was a vivacious, busty redhead, about three years older than him, whom he’d already spent quite a few nights with. He figured he could use a palate cleanser, a distraction of the carnal variety. 

Despite all of his efforts, even buried deep inside of a beautiful woman, her nails scratching down his back and whispering his name in his ear, all he could think about was that damn ghoul. It was beyond frustrating, being unable to think about anything but getting fucked himself by a demon twice his size while he was trying to fuck someone else. Worse still, he was having a hard time getting off. Terzo reached down between them and worked her clit, hoping that feeling her walls tighten and flutter around him would send him over the edge, but he had no such luck. Even when she came, he was no closer than when he started. 

He fucked the poor girl until she was growing bored and he was getting tired. Desperate, he let himself succumb to thoughts of the night before that had been chasing him all day. The burning warmth of Omega’s touch, the sweetness of his mouth, the way their tongues danced together. The indescribable fullness, the blinding pleasure of his climax. The way the scratches the man had left behind still stung pleasantly even now. He was surprised tonight’s partner hadn’t commented on the marks. As ashamed as he was of himself, Terzo finally came to thoughts of Omega, haunted by the ghost of the smell of his skin. 

Terzo ate her out before he left, making sure she came again as an unspoken apology for using her like a sex toy rather than making sure she was also having a good time. Terzo may have been an impersonal and emotionally detached lover, but he wasn’t a selfish one. Rather than forgetting his troubles inside someone else, Terzo left feeling more burdened and distressed than ever. He slept very poorly that night, tossing and turning, unable to outrun his thoughts of the stranger. Perhaps he didn’t want him to be a stranger anymore after all. That was a hard pill to swallow. 

[johnnycadesmuse]

₊ ˚. ✩ this was all for you

— dallas winston x runaway!reader

song 𝄞 nettles by ethel cain

warnings: language, mentions of sex, smoking + alcohol

365 days, 12 months, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes, and 31,560,000 seconds. that's how long you had been gone.

when you first went missing, everyone thought that you had been kidnapped. maybe you were on a walk and some creepy old man snatched you away, or maybe you said 'no' to the wrong guy and got unlucky— but Dallas knew the truth, because he got the truth gifted to him, straight from you. the note that you left on his bed told it all, and it revealed to him that he was the one who got unlucky.

dear my dearest dally,

by the time you find this letter, i will be gone. there is no point in trying to catch up to me as i haven't told anyone where i'm going and i am long gone by now, hopefully. i want to be honest and clear. bel i didn't leave because of you, if it were, i would tell you. i left because i couldn't take it anymore. i couldn't take the constant fighting of sides, the rumbles, the constant fearing for my well being when i'm out on a walk in town. i felt trapped in that town, and no one could hear me scream, except for you. i can't you were the only one who truly understood what i was going through. you were the only one who ever truly knew me. i don't want you to track me down, i want you to stay away live out your life the way you deserve to live it. i was a burden, and you had your own burdens to deal with. i was dragging you down with me and even if you don't want to admit it, it's the truth. i'm sorry, dallas. i love you more than you will ever know. everything that i did was for you.

when Dally read the letter, he wanted to rip it to shreds, set the scraps on fire and watch them burn.. but he didn't. instead, he cried softly into the paper, smearing the ink and smudging the words. Dallas Winston didn't cry, not for anything or anyone, not even for Johnny.

his throat felt clogged and his mouth began to salivate, as if he were about to throw up. it didn't feel real to him at first, he thought that maybe this was some big joke and that you would walk through the door a few seconds later to hug him and tell him that you were sorry, that you didn't mean to hurt him. but the door stayed closed, and you stayed gone.

after Dally gathered himself, he did exactly what you told him not to do, go looking for you. but you knew that he wouldn't listen to your words, so you took extra care in covering your tracks.

when he went to your apartment to look for clues, the furniture was all covered in white sheets like an old abandoned home in those scary movies the both of you used to watch together. he opened every drawer, scanned every nook and cranny, and even the tiny cracks in the walls that had been there since you first invited him over before you two even began dating. nothing. everything was spotless, not even dust remained for him to find. the only thing left was the scent of you, still somewhat lingering in the air.

after doing a million more checks of the same spots, Dally was convinced that you truly were gone. before he left, he walked over to the window sill you two would share a cigarette at after sex or a long night of talking. he ran his fingers over the engraved initials on the wooden window sill, ones that he carved out of his switchblade and you scolded him for, complaining that he would have to fix it later, but of course, he never did.

after that day, he tried to forget about you. whenever someone would bring you up, you'd shrug and pretend to not know you. whenever he had sex with other girls, he would try to not moan out your name or think about your lips kissing that sweet spot on his neck that no one else knew about. whenever he would walk by a bush of gardenias, he would hold his breath as they smelt exactly like your perfume. though he did all of these things, you still lingered. like a character haunting the narrative of his story.

he stuffed the letter under his mattress as to preserve it whilst also keeping it out of sight and out of mind. he would occasionally think about flipping it up and pulling the paper out, but he held back, for he knew the pain he would feel by just seeing your handwriting was too much.

why? why didn't she take me with her? it would've been safer, better he always thought to himself, the inner turmoil overtaking his mind.

slowly, he began to somewhat accept it. he no longer wanted to forget you, but embrace the fact that you came and left. he began to pick petals off of the gardenia bush every time he walked past it and stuff them in his pockets. and every time someone mentioned your name, he would no longer tense up, but instead acknowledge it and move on. still, you lingered, and he could never get rid of the pang in his heart when he thought of the way you would hold him close at night, the way you would brush your fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp in the way he liked it. sometimes, when he was having a drink at Bucks, he would think about the way you would always have little sips of your alcohol, saying that any bigger was too much.

tonight was no different. as he sat at the bar, staring into his whiskey, he couldn't help but think of you. "hey Dal? you still with us?" Two-Bit asked, snapping him out of his trance.

"uh yeah" he said, attempting to play it off, but everyone knew that he was thinking about you. since you left, he hasn't been the same, and his friends would see it every time they looked at him. "so uh we still going to the rodeo on friday?"

"you bet" Soda chuckled, patting him on the back before returning to their previous conversation. Dally was looking forward to that rodeo as it would get you off of his mind as you weren't a rodeo gal, always complaining that it was too violent and upsetting to see people get hurt and animals taken advantage of, despite him always telling you that they were well maintained and fed. there was nothing of you that was left behind in that stadium.

once friday rolled around, the gang all got ready and headed to the rodeo, adrenaline pumping in excitement to see cowboys be kicked on their asses. they would whoop and holler on their way to the entrance from the parking lot, swinging their bandanas above their head like a lasso.

as they took their seats and waited for the show to start, Dally scanned the crowd, the house full.

suddenly, his heart stopped. he swore- no? it couldn't be you, could it? you left. you were gone and you weren't coming back. and you didn't like rodeos, you hated them. you would always refuse to go them and would instead suggest a movie or dinner somewhere.

as the crowd roared for the first person who was about to mount their bull, the person got up and began to head toward the exit where the food was. he didn't even wait a second before he followed suit, heading toward your side of the venue.

as he got closer and his vision cleared, that's when he saw it. you. it really was... you.

he stormed toward you, rage building up within him, ready to shout at you and berate you in anger about you leaving. but once he saw you smile in gratitude at the cashier, thanking you for the meal that would "be out shortly", all of that went away. instead, he wanted to run to you and hold you, tell you that he was sorry for driving you away despite the fact that in your letter you said otherwise.

he stood there, waiting for you to notice him, until you did. he visibly saw your breath hitch, your body tensing up. he watched as your nails dug into your palms, a nervous tic that you had— sometimes it was so intense, you would make your palms bleed and he would have to clean them up and kiss them better.

"hey." he said, his voice blank yet full of emotion.. full of words that he wanted to say.

"hi." you responded, your voice shakey. you didn't even hear your number for your food being called as you were too focused on him. you wanted so desperately to run to him, kiss him all over and tell him that you were sorry, because it was true. you were sorry. you were sorry that you left so suddenly, that you didn't say goodbye and instead left a stupid note. you regretted it all, as soon as you saw that "thank you visiting Tulsa sign" you wanted to turn back. but it was too late, the damage had been done, and you believed that he had probably moved on with his life, so you tried to do the same. but everything reminded you of him. "still like the rodeos, huh?"

"you do now too I guess?"

"no.. not really. I was dragged here by- a friend" you hesitated on the end of the sentence as the idea of having friends that weren't his friends was a foreign thing for you both. you always shared friend groups and were always around one another no matter what. Dally didn't say anything, only humming in response.

the air was thick, so thick you felt as though you were suffocating. you felt tears begin to prick your eyes the longer you stared at him. he didn't look well, at least, not as well as he used to. his eye bags were more visible and his lips were more chapped from you not kissing them.

"is it a guy?" Dally asked hesitantly, stuffing his hands in his pockets, a nervous tic you knew he had.

"no" you chuckled lightly, "I haven't been with anyone since.."

"not even slept with?" he asked softly, stepping closer, your bodies only a few inches away from one another. you cleared your throat, not out of discomfort, but out of feeling guilty, because the answer to the question was yes.

"they didn't mean anything if that's what you were wondering."

"mine didn't either" he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek, making you bite back a small smile that threatened to form on your lips. you looked up to see him slightly smiling as well, and that's when you couldn't take it anymore, you couldn't hold it in. you began to sob, holding your face in your hands.

you began to turn on your heels to walk away as you were embarrassed to be so weak in front of him, but before you could even take a step, he swung you around and held you, pulling you into his chest. without hesitating, you wrapped your arms around him, instantly feeling relieved.

"i'm so- sorry" you sobbed into his jacket, your voice muffled. "I wanted to turn back. I regret it so bad Dally, I r-really do"

"I know baby, I know." he whispered, kissing the top of your head over and over, attempting to not allow his voice to crack or stutter as he tried to hold back his own tears.

"can you.. forgive me?" you pleaded, pulling away when you only heard heavy breathing. you looked up to look at him, only to have your face pulled into his, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss. you cupped his face, his hands now on your waist.

"does that answer your question?" he told you after you both pulled away, making you laugh as he wipes your tears away with his thumb. your laugh instantly healed him, it sounding like a song he missed hearing. "don't leave me.. please" he whispered to you, staring deeply into your eyes.

"I won't.. ever." you replied, staring back, his brown eyes, no longer looking blue.

[blogger360ncislarules]

Leverage: Redemption may have wrapped its third season, but the adrenaline, heart, and signature justice-for-the-underdog energy still linger in the minds of its devoted fans. We had the chance to sit down with executive producer Dean Devlin, who opened up about the show’s evolution, the challenges of keeping things fresh, and why Season 3 just might be the most ambitious installment yet.

A Found Family in Constant Motion

One of the standout elements of Leverage: Redemption—and of the Leverage franchise as a whole—is the found family dynamic between the crew. But as Devlin shared, what makes that family compelling isn’t just their shared history—it’s their individual growth. “These are characters who chose each other as a family,” Devlin explained. “They weren’t born into it, but they made that choice. And over the years, that bond has only grown stronger. But just because the family unit grows tighter doesn’t mean the individuals stop evolving.”

That evolution is central to Leverage: Redemption Season 3. Devlin emphasized that while the love and loyalty among the team remain steadfast, personal growth can sometimes lead to conflict. “They all have their own interests, their own fears, their own worries—and that means, sometimes, they’re pulled in different directions. That’s something we really wanted to explore this season.”

Part of what made this exploration so rich was the collaboration between writers and actors. Before the start of each season, Devlin and his team invite the cast into the writers’ room to discuss their characters’ arcs and insights. “These actors live with their characters 24/7. They know them better than we do,” he said. “Those early conversations help shape the season. It’s one of my favorite parts of the process.”

“Leverage: Redemption Meets the Moment”

While past seasons of Leverage: Redemption had a way of eerily predicting the future (remember when Hardison hacked a plane?), Season 3 took a different approach—tapping directly into the current cultural moment. “This season, we’re not looking ahead—we’re looking at now,” Devlin said. “We’re tackling hot-button issues that are front and center in people’s lives. It’s going to spark conversation.”

And true to form, the crew continues to provide hope through action—taking on powerful forces in the name of justice. “Every week, you’ll see our band of thieves helping the little guy. That’s what makes this show special.”

Devlin didn’t shy away from the truth: Leverage: Redemption Season 3 was a massive challenge to pull off. But the payoff? Worth every bit of it. “We wanted to push the limits this year,” he shared. “We still have a modest budget, but we shot an action sequence in Europe. Our ambitions were big, even if our wallet wasn’t.”

Despite those constraints, Devlin believes Season 3 is the strongest yet. “There are three episodes this year that are completely unlike anything we’ve done before. If you’re a long-time fan, you’ll get everything you love—and something new. If you’ve never seen the show, this is the best version to jump into.”

The One That Got Away

Fans love a good guest star, and Leverage has had some iconic ones. While Leverage: Redemption Season 3 brought back a few beloved faces, there’s still one character Devlin has his eye on for a triumphant return. “I’m dying to bring back Wil Wheaton as Chaos,” he confessed. “I love the actor and the character. Hopefully, if we keep going, we’ll get the chance.”

While nothing’s confirmed yet for a Season 4, Devlin’s answer about the show’s future was peak Devlin—dry humor with a wink to fans. “John Rogers and I agreed—we don’t want to overstay our welcome. So we’ve decided we’ll stop at Season 27,” he joked. “When we get there, we’ll probably call it quits.”

Sounds like there’s still a lot of lot of Leverage: Redemption left to gain. Stay tuned, Grifters—because if there’s one thing we know about this team, it’s that they’re never really done.

Leverage: Redemption Season 3 is streaming on Prime Video.

[starlostjisung]

- photograph

PAIRING: bang chan x reader

GENRE: fluff; established relationship

WC: 1.6k

CW: none

SUMMARY: while the world outside is quiet, chan and you take a trip down memory lane while looking at pictures of your memories together

hi!! time again for a new story, and it’s bang chan’s turn now!! i’m slowly getting the hang of this and i’m also happy seeing your reactions so i wanted to take this opportunity to thank you!! hopefully you like this story too <3

“we haven’t used this in a long time, shall we keep it or throw it away?” chan asked you

you turned around to see the object he was talking about

“throw it, i don’t think we’re gonna use it anyway”

“okay” and with that he went to the kitchen to continue cleaning

it was sunday morning and the both of you had the weekend off, which didn’t happen very often to be honest. after enjoying the previous day to yourselves - you had a quiet and lazy morning in bed, went out to eat and watch a movie afterwards and came home to have dinner and make love until the early morning - you decided that today you both were going to clean your house. not the most interesting and fun plan but what could you do.

you had already cleaned most of the rooms and were already with the last two: chan was cleaning the kitchen and you were cleaning the living room. more specifically, the shelf where you had some books and also your photo albums. while taking them to clean the shelf, a photo came out of one of the albums and you bent to pick it up from the floor. when you saw the photo, you couldn’t help the smile that adorned your face at the sight of it.

it was a photo of chan and you in london when you when to see the boys perform in hyde park. it was a surprise for chan, he didn’t know you were going and that’s what the photo showed. the moment when you saw and hugged each other like you would never let go. it was felix who had beautifully captured the moment and sent you the photo afterwards - “i’m happy that you both are this happy, keep this forever” the message read - which you decided to print when you came back home.

“chris, come here look” you wanted him to see the photo as well

“what is it?”

he came out the kitchen and sat on the sofa with you. he saw the photo and had the exact reaction as you.

“this is one of my favourite photos of us, i’m so glad felix took it” he said

“yes, we should make him our official photographer” he laughed at that

“i still can’t believe you were able to pull that off without me knowing anything about it, or even suspecting it. i’m usually good at these things and you suck at keeping secrets babe”

“believe me, i wanted to tell you a thousand times when we called or messaged each other but the cliche of “girlfriend surprises boyfriend on tour” was stronger and did the trick to succeed”

“where did you find this photo?”

“it was inside the album, it slipped out when i took it from the shelf” you motioned the album that you were still holding

“let’s have a rest while we see the photos”

you opened the album and it was like walking into a maze of memories. it was full of your and chan’s memories. you had been together for a long time and this was a testament of that.

there were photos from chan and the boys just before they debuted (you and chan were only friends back then), photos from your graduation, photos with both of your families and friends, and photos from all the memories you had made together.

“look at this! this is from the day we went to the cinema and later had ice cream watching han river” he pointed at one picture

it was one of your favourite photos. it was when you and chan had started dating, so it was early days. you two were walking the line between friends and something more. already aware of the other’s feeling and after talking about wanting to have more than a friendship. still, you both felt like you were walking into something very exciting and magical, getting to know each other again after all these years and also seeing the other person in a different light.

“i remember that you dropped my ice cream on my new dress and apologised like a thousand times” you laughed at the memory

“oi! don’t blame me i was super nervous, it was one of our first dates and i wanted it to be perfect”

“and it was perfect because it was us” you told him honestly

you continued watching the album, seeing more family photos, photos from your different trips - “i remember i had this photo of us in new york as my lock screen for a long time” he said - photos you took of the boys backstage - “i’m glad lee know doesn’t know i have this photo of him with a face full of cake, otherwise he would kill me” you told him while laughing uncontrollably.

it made both your hearts grow bigger, seeing how many memories you had made together and, hopefully, how many more you would make.

“i remember this day. we went to australia last year to the wedding of one of your parent’s friends” you said while looking at a photo that showed you and all of chan’s family altogether in front of the beach.

“we really had a lot of fun that day, didn’t we?” he said while laughing at the memory

“i remember that my feet hurt like hell the next day because i had been wearing heels the entire day and i spent the whole night on the dance floor with you”

“and my dad”

“and your dad”

you burst out laughing. the wedding had been an absolute dream. it was on the beach, for only a small group of people, and afterwards a quiet night dinner in a restaurant that was close to the beach too. after having dinner and hearing - and crying - with the speeches that friends and family gave for the occasion, the party started. you and chan were almost the first ones to the dance floor, because that’s one of the things that make you the happiest in the world. dancing in weddings. of course chan knew this, so how could he not grant you that wish. how could he not do that when you looked so damn beautiful looking at him with stars in your eyes. how could you not dance with him when his smile was the brightest thing you had ever seen in your life.

“you know, that day was the day that i realised that i wanted to marry you” you confessed. you both had talked about marriage before, but you hadn’t mentioned this until today.

“really?” he replied

“yes. of course i had had fantasies about us getting married before, but nothing completely serious because of what could happen, the future, and all that stuff. but it was this day that made me want that for us some day in the future. like a hundred percent. i wanted to dance with you like that again, but this time being our wedding with our friends and families with us”

he went quiet after that and for the first time, you stopped looking at the pictures and looked at him only to realise that he was already looking at you.

“what?” you asked him

he didn’t reply. instead he kissed you. slow, sweet, quiet. like the world outside didn’t matter and the only thing that was important were you, him, and this album that was full of your memories. he broke the kiss but even then he didn’t go too far. he let his forehead rest on yours.

“do you know that that day, my mother asked me about marrying you?”

“what? you never told me that before” you retreated a bit to see his face better

“it was when you and hannah were outside taking photos of the happy couple and i was sitting there just looking at you, seeing how beautiful you looked and imagining that one day that was going to be us”

“chris…” you felt your eyes start watering

“she sat next to me and asked me what i was thinking, and i told her that i was just looking at you and how happy and excited you looked. she just smiled and said that she knew one day it would be our turn, that i had to hurry and propose before you got tired and did it yourself”

you laughed through your tears, which had spilled a bit now. you knew chan’s family loved you, they had always been very welcoming and supportive, but hearing him saying this was different.

“of course there is this important factor that comes after me proposing, which is you saying yes but that is something that we didn’t discuss because who would want to be nervous and stressing about this minimal detail about a wedding, right?” he joked with you

“yes right, that detail is minimal, there’s no need to worry about that, it’s not important” you continued his joke

you continued laughing while looking at each other. your laughs got quiet slowly, but your smiles were still as bright.

“just so you know, so you don’t have to be nervous or stressed about this minimal and unimportant factor, my answer would always be yes” you replied honestly while smiling. no matter how, when or where chan hopefully proposed, you would always say yes to a life with him

“i’m really happy you said that” he smiled even bigger.

because little did you know, in his drawer, there was a small ring box that was waiting to be opened after he asked a certain question that he hoped would be answered with a yes.

[softonstyles]

Part Fourteen

Part Thirteen

Word Count: 3.6K

Things always spiraled a bit when Charlotte took on the role of stylist.

Which explained how Aurora found herself in front of Charlotte’s bedroom mirror, staring back at a version of herself she barely recognized.

Aurora was dressed head-to-toe in black, but there was nothing understated about her look. The corset stole the spotlight — sleek, structured, and unapologetically tight. It cinched her waist and carved out an hourglass silhouette that left little to the imagination.

Her makeup was far bolder than she was used to; eyes smoked out in shadow that made the deep brown gleam like polished glass. Her hair fell in loose, voluminous waves, as if it had been tousled by something far more thrilling than a curling iron (if only, she thought solemnly).

She looked stunning. Maybe even a little dangerous.

“I don’t even look like me,” Aurora murmured, more to her reflection than to Charlotte.

“Of course you do.” Charlotte replied easily, flicking the wing of her eyeliner. “You just keep this side of you tucked away most of the time. But when she comes out to play. . .” Her voice drifted off as she raised a knowing brow — then cursed. “Shit. Now why did I do that? My eyeliner’s ruined.”

Aurora laughed, shaking her head as she reached for a Q-tip on the vanity. She dipped it carefully into the micellar water, then handed it to Charlotte.

“Thanks,” Charlotte said, accepting it — though her gaze lingered a little too long on Aurora’s chest. “Are you on your period?”

“In a few days,” Aurora blinked. “Why?”

“Because the puppies are barking.”

“Oh my God, Char,” Aurora groaned, swatting her away as Charlotte started mock-barking. She hadn’t even thought about it, but it tracked. No wonder she’d been drowning in her feelings lately — her period was clearly on the horizon.

Still, that was only part of it. Deep down, she knew Harry’s effect on her wasn’t just hormonal. That man had a hold on her that wasn’t going to fade with the end of her follicular phase, but at least now she could blame some of the emotional chaos on biology.

Snapping herself back to the present with a sudden rush of focus, Aurora offered a warm smile. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Appreciate you!” Charlotte sang, finishing her makeup. “Hopefully Ben thinks so, too.”

Right on cue, her phone lit up on the bed, and his custom ringtone chimed.

“Speak of the devil,” she grinned.

Ben’s friends were nice.

She could tell, though, that everyone was hoping she would find one friend in particular — Kyle — especially nice. 

And to be fair, he was. He’d offered to grab her a drink shortly after they met, and now he was weaving through the crowd with two bottles of Stella in each hand, wearing a crooked smile like he knew just how charming he was. 

Cambridge Bar was nice, too, with a ground floor full of tables where people drank, laughed, and picked at shareable plates. The only downside was the noise — pulsing music from the upstairs dance floor spilled into the space below, making it nearly impossible to hold a proper conversation. 

(Aurora didn’t mind it, though. At least not all the way. It gave her an easy out — anytime Marilyn tried to spark a conversation, she would just shrug and point upwards, insinuating that she couldn’t hear.)

Eventually, the group gravitated toward a worn pool table tucked into the back corner. The space was quieter there, and a low hanging fixture bathed the table in soft amber light. The green felt was faded and the edges were chipped, but something about it felt cozy.

She hadn’t played in years, but the moment she lined up her shot, muscle memory kicked in. The satisfying crack of the cue ball sent her target gliding neatly into the corner pocket. She straightened up, a little proud of herself. 

Maybe she still had it.

Then she noticed Marilyn, standing a few feet away with a drink in hand, wearing a look that could sour milk. As soon as the ball dropped, she rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, vanishing into the crowd like a dark cloud pulled out to sea.

What the hell was she upset about now?

Before she had the chance to overthink it, Kyle reappeared beside her.

“Everything okay?” He asked, extending one of the Stella’s.

Aurora glanced at the bottle. She’d just finished a gin and tonic — not the smartest time to mix — but she doubted she would be here long enough for it to matter.

“All good,” she said, accepting it with a smile. “Thanks.”

They clinked bottles.

“Cheers.”

Kyle stood beside her, nursing his drink as he watched the rest of the group crowd around the pool table. His shoulder brushed lightly against hers, just enough for her to notice — and for him to pretend it was unintentional.

Aurora didn’t want to flirt. She just wanted to enjoy the night, maybe laugh a little, and feel like a normal person again. But even now, with Kyle right here — warm, interested, and objectively attractive — all she could think about was Harry.

Harry, who never pretended things were unintentional. 

She had spent the last few days tangled in confusion over his actions, but now she saw them for what they really were: deliberate, careful expressions of something he simply couldn’t say out loud at first. He had always been clear, just. . . cautious.

And sometimes, she hated that — like right now. 

Because what was the point of making his feelings clear if he was never going to do anything about them? He could have just let her yearn quietly. But instead, he decided to strike a match. And now her yearning didn’t just ache.

It burned.

“Don’t worry,” Aurora said, breaking out of her thoughts with a forced smile. “I played your shot while you were gone.” She nodded at the table, where a few of his friends were arguing over whose turn it was.

“Yeah, I watched you from the bar — you brought us closer to victory!” He shot her a boyish grin and lifted his free hand for a high five. “Be honest, do you play a lot? That was some pro-level stuff.” 

As he leaned in to say it, she could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Uh, not really,” Aurora said with a small shake of her head, trying to play it cool. “I haven’t played in a while. School’s been busy, and before that, I was working a lot.”

She took an unconscious step back — and bumped into the table behind her with a soft thud.

Kyle immediately clocked it and froze. She could almost see the wheels turning as he cleared his throat and stepped back. “Oh, sorry, ‘s just loud in here.”

She shook her head, appreciating the shift. “Don’t worry about it — you’re right, it’s ridiculously loud.”

He gave a small, nervous smile and took a sip of his drink. “So, uh. . . you’re in the same DPT program as Marilyn, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

Her eyes widened the second she heard herself.

“Oh my God,” she said, bringing a hand to her face. “I meant the school part. Not Marilyn. That sounded — wow, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” Her mind was already spiraling: what if this somehow got back to Ben? Or worse, Charlotte? 

Great. Just one more thing to add to the ever-growing list of ways she was screwing things up for her.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, amused. “So. . . you do like working with Marilyn?”

Aurora opened her mouth, then hesitated. The beer dulled her tongue and made it harder to spin something diplomatic.

“It’s, uh, complicated.”

He titled his head with a smirk. “Complicated?”

She narrowed her eyes slightly. Was he fucking with her?

After a brief pause, Aurora finally settled for a simple, “We don’t talk much — we’re both pretty busy.”

Kyle nodded like he got it, his eyes still on hers. Then he leaned in just slightly, more friendly than flirty, and said:

“Lucky you.”

A quiet laugh escaped her before she could stop it. He was definitely fucking with her.

“That was a test,” he said, straightening with a grin.

“Oh?” She raised a brow, mirroring his tone. “And did I pass?”

“A+, no doubt about it. Charlotte was right — you’re sharp.”

Kyle was very nice.

Everything was going just fine, at least on the surface. The music was loud, the drinks were good, and the people she was with were even better (except for just one person, of course).

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. More specifically, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he was out tonight, too. With Katy.

Aurora still didn’t really know who Katy was. Just that she must have been perfect, because she could only imagine that Harry surrounded himself with like-minded people. People that were closer in age to him. Someone he could openly flirt with, smile at in public, touch without hesitation. The not-knowing made it even worse for her. The narrative she had created was spinning fast enough to drive her crazy, but she couldn’t hold herself back from it. 

Was Katy someone from his past, or someone new? 

Someone he could actually have?

Probably.

And what was Aurora to him, exactly? His feelings for her had been made clear, but that didn’t change the fact that she was a complication. There were glances that lingered too long and silences that said too much — and still, he refused to do a damn thing about it.

But the worst part was that he wouldn’t even try.

That was what cut the deepest: not being someone worth the risk.

It struck something raw in her — something old and bone-deep. That quiet, aching belief planted in every place she had never stayed long enough to call home. No matter how hard she tried, her actions would never be enough. 

Because she was always the one just passing through, instead of the one people built around.

The thought made her throat tighten, and she could have burst into tears. Right there, in the middle of the bar. She could have blamed it on hormones, too — her period was probably a day away — but she knew better. 

Ugh.

“Wanna dance?” She turned to Kyle, desperate for a distraction.

“Huh?” He leaned in, the music swallowing her words. “Didn’t catch that.”

“Dance!” She repeated over the beat. With a quick tug, she pulled him toward the stairs, flashing a grin over her shoulder at Charlotte. “Come with us!”

“Fina-fucking-ly!” Charlotte cheered, yanking Ben along with her. The rest of their group followed as they moved upstairs toward the dance floor.

If the music downstairs had been loud, upstairs was deafening.

A disco ball spun overhead, scattering fractured light across a sea of bodies in motion. The DJ’s booth thumped like a second heartbeat, and Aurora, hand-in-hand with Charlotte, pushed her way into the crowd — forgetting the boys entirely.

They danced. They laughed. Let the rhythm and alcohol do what they were meant to.

Aurora didn’t need another drink — she’d already hit that golden hum, the kind that dulled the edges and made everything feel far away, in the best way. After months spent tightening every screw just to keep from falling apart, this ease felt like breath finally let loose. And really, what was the point of all the effort, all the exhaustion, if she couldn’t let herself feel this every now and then?

By the time the third song faded out, they regrouped with the others. Charlotte was already leaning into Ben, whispering something close to his ear, while Kyle made his way back to Aurora with a new drink in one hand and a glowing neon ring in the other.

“Where’d you get that?” Aurora asked, laughing as he approached.

“Some drunk guy in a Garfield costume gave it to me,” Kyle said with a shrug. “Didn’t seem like the kind of moment to ask questions.” He slipped the bright pink glow ring over her head, grinning.

They danced side by side, not touching, just moving with the music. She appreciated how, this time, he didn’t edge closer or try to close the space between them. There was no expectation in the air, just an easy kind of presence that made her feel — if not entirely at ease — at least unbothered.

It was strange how something as simple as respecting her space felt noteworthy, even rare.

She’d had enough uncomfortable encounters in college to know how fast a good time could turn sour. But with Harry, that tension had never existed. He’d never once crossed a line (at least not one that she didn’t want him to). Being around him felt calm, natural; like something her nervous system didn’t need to brace against.

Maybe it was his age. Maybe it was the fact that he was someone’s father. Or maybe it had nothing to do with either — maybe it was just him.

Ugh. Again.

She really needed to stop thinking about him.

The group eventually made their way downstairs, the music fading into a soft, rhythmic thrum behind them — like a distant echo of the night they were slowly stepping away from. The bar below was quieter, more relaxed. Laughter danced through the air, blending with the delicate clatter of glass and the low hum of lingering conversation.

“That was fun,” Charlotte said, linking her arm through Aurora’s as they walked side by side. She cast a glance over her shoulder toward the others, raising her voice just enough to be heard. “What’s next, everyone?”

Aurora pulled out her phone.

12: 17 A.M.

Not late by city standards — at least, not really — but her body told a different story. Hours of talking, laughing, and sipping cocktails had left Aurora spent, her limbs heavy with exhaustion and the slow afterglow of alcohol.

“I think I’m calling it,” she said quietly, leaning toward Charlotte. “I’ll just head back to your place. I can Uber.”

Charlotte stopped in her tracks, frowning. “Alone? No way, I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Aurora replied, offering a small, worn-out smile. “Seriously, Char. Stay and have fun, I’ll be fine.” 

Before Charlotte could press further, Kyle appeared beside them; hands in his jacket pockets, expression easy. “Leaving already?”

“Aurora is,” Charlotte said with mock disapproval. “And she thinks I’m going to just let her wander off alone like some random pedestrian.”

“I can go with her,” Kyle offered without hesitation. “I’m like, what, ten minutes from your place? I’ll just walk the rest of the way.”

Aurora paused, considering. Charlotte wasn’t going to let her leave alone, that much was obvious, and Kyle’s suggestion made sense.

“Are you sure you don’t mind leaving early?”

Kyle shrugged, giving her a relaxed smile. “It’s no big deal. I’ve got to be up early anyway — coaching Little League at eight.”

“Sure then,” Aurora nodded appreciatively. “Thanks, Kyle.”

She turned back to Charlotte, who was already raising her brows like she’d just been proven right in an unspoken argument.

“So Kyle’s taking you home, then,” Charlotte said, trying not to grin.

“Apparently,” Aurora replied dryly, ignoring the look. “I’ll see you later.”

“Since you’re leaving, I might just end up at Ben’s tonight. Don’t wait up.” She winked, pulling Aurora in for a hug. “Be safe, okay? Text me when you’re back.”

“Mm, no you be safe.”

The ride back to Charlotte’s house passed in silence. Aurora sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the window as street lights flickered by, casting fleeting shadows across her face. Kyle sat beside her, glancing over now and then, checking on her.

“You okay?” He asked softly, concern woven through his voice.

She turned, offering a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Kyle was kind — gentle, thoughtful, her own age.

The kind of guy she should be falling for.

The kind she wanted to fall for, if only to free herself from the hold Harry had on her. But no matter how much she wished for it, there was no spark. And that truth settled in her chest like a weight, thick with guilt.

When the car finally pulled into the driveway, the first thing Aurora noticed was the absence.

No car. No sign of Harry.

He still wasn’t home. 

A quiet dread curled low in her stomach.

“You sure you’re alright?” Kyle asked again, catching the way she hesitated.

She forced another smile. “All good.”

As he walked her all the way to the front steps, a wave of nerves crept in; not the soft, fluttery kind, but the kind that prickled beneath the skin, uneasy and crawling. She worried about Kyle thinking that this meant something more — or worse, that he expected a kiss. And when Aurora got nervous, she rambled.

“Thank you for coming back with me. That was super thoughtful of you, you really didn’t have to. . . Oh, and the drinks! Both of them — super good — thank you.”

They stood just in front of the porch now, facing each other. Kyle let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Any decent person would have done the same. You don’t have to thank me.”

She smiled again, unsure of what else to say. For a moment, they stood in a quiet that felt both comfortable and loaded.

Then Kyle tilted his head, breaking the silence. “So. . . I guess this is it, huh?”

His question threw her. “What do you mean?”

He gave her a look — not bitter, not accusatory. Just quietly knowing. “You’re into someone else.”

Aurora’s heart stuttered. “What?”

“I can tell,” he said gently. “You were somewhere else tonight. You had that look. . . the same one I wore for months. You miss someone.”

She didn’t move. At this point, she knew better than to lie to Kyle — and honestly, she didn’t want to. Talking to him came easily, and she had kept this secret bottled up for long enough.

“Yeah,” Aurora replied solemnly. “I do.”

Kyle nodded like he had already made peace with it.

After a beat, she added, “You too?”

“Yeah,” he mirrored her earnest expression. He shifted his weight back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets. “We’d been together since high school, and I really thought we would get married. Right up until she ended things a few months ago. . . and jumped straight into a new relationship with her coworker.”

Something tugged at her chest. “Oh, man. I’m really sorry.”

He gave a small shrug. “It is what it is.”

“I don’t have any wise advice about dealing with heartbreak — if I did, I would probably be using it myself — but. . . you’re a good guy, Kyle, and I know someone else is going to see that right away.”

Kyle smiled at that. “Thanks, Aurora. Same to you. And whoever you’re hung up on — he’s an idiot.”

Aurora laughed, the sound soft and warm in the quiet night, then pulled Kyle into a hug. He didn’t hesitate — wrapping his arms around her like they had done this a hundred times before.

Just as she stepped back, the hum of an approaching car broke the moment. A sleek black vehicle slowed to a stop in front of the house. The passenger window rolled down with a low mechanical whir, revealing Harry behind the wheel, his gaze fixed squarely on her.

He didn’t blink. His expression was carefully neutral, but something about the tight line of his jaw made her stomach twist.

Kyle turned toward the car, oblivious. “Oh, hey Mr. Styles!” He called out, lifting a hand in a cheerful wave.

Harry’s reply came a beat too late. “Hi, Kyle.” His tone was cool, clipped — so opposite from Kyle’s warmth that it felt like a chill in the air. “Were you just dropping Aurora off?”

“I was, yeah.”

“That was nice of you,” Harry nodded, each word deliberate. “Why don’t I drive you back home?”

It wasn’t a question.

Kyle blinked, slightly thrown. “Oh, uh, that’s okay. Aurora and I were still talking. I can just walk —”

“It’s nearly one in the morning,” Harry cut in, his voice low but firm. “You were kind enough to make sure she got home safe. You’ve done your part, now let me do mine.”

Aurora’s eyes drifted to him. He wasn’t looking at Kyle; his attention hadn’t wavered from her. His hand remained clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles pale beneath the glow of the streetlamp.

Kyle hesitated, visibly unsure at first, then gave a reluctant nod. “Right, yeah.” He turned to Aurora with a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll see you around?”

She returned the smile. “Definitely. And thanks again, Kyle. For everything.”

“Okay, okay, enough with the thanks,” Kyle chuckled, giving her arm a brief, warm squeeze before heading toward Harry’s car.

As Kyle got into the car, Aurora glanced at Harry — only to find he was no longer watching her. His head was bent slightly, thumbs moving over his phone screen.

Kyle fastened his seatbelt and looked her way again, lifting a hand to wave. But before the gesture could land, Harry pulled off the curb.

She watched the tail lights disappear down the street, frowning in confusion at the tension radiating from him. 

Then her phone buzzed. A new notification lit up the screen.

She swiped it open — and her breath caught.

Harry: We need to talk.

Harry: Wait for me to get home.

A/N: buckle in, y'all — we're getting hot and heavy in the next few parts! 🤠 if you enjoyed reading this or would like a sneak peak into the next part, let me know here <3

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[blackcatxmagic]

Of all the ways Vale had to banish his dark, broken thoughts - going to the lake, smoking a cigarette after a long day, sitting in his closet with the door closed - making out (and hopefully more) with a cute boy was the most successful, and it was healthier than at least some of the alternatives. With Dante pressed against the car, Vale kissed him deeply, tongue in his mouth, hands roaming his body, and the kiss was just as fervent once they were in the car. "Everything about you right now is doing it for me," Vale told the other man. "Seriously, all of this - " Vale took one hand off the wheel just for a second, gesturing at Dante - "is dangerous as fuck. You could probably get me to do anything." Maybe this was giving Dante too much power, but Vale didn't give a single shit about that. Sometimes it was nice to give it away anyway, to let someone else take control, or other times it was fun to have that back and forth where they both fought for the power; that always made for an explosive experience.

As he drove, Vale looked over at Dante and saw him touching his thigh, and God, Vale wished he could be the one doing that. But he rarely took his hands off the wheel while driving, and when he did it was just for a second or two, so he just kept his hands on the wheel, unable to adjust his pants again as they got tighter and tighter. Fuck, he had it bad for Dante in this moment. When he heard the man's reply, Vale smirked, acting confident but secretly feeling relieved. "Good," he replied, "because otherwise I'd have to kick you out so I could spend some time with myself. It wouldn't be nearly as satisfying though." One way or another though, Vale needed a release now thanks to Dante.

The drive seemed to take forever, but Vale resisted the urge to speed, just focusing on getting to the ranch safely. Finally though he drove down the long driveway and pulled up to the house. As expected, things at the house itself were quiet, but Vale didn't know how long they would stay that way, so he needed to get Dante inside. However, before he did anything else, he needed to kiss the man again, so that was what he did. Vale leaned over the center console and kissed Dante passionately, one hand running through his hair. "So fucking sexy," he muttered when he broke the kiss, still close enough that his lips brushed against Dante's as he spoke. After giving the man one more kiss, Vale practically jumped out of the car and rushed around to the other side, pulling Dante out of the car and leading him inside hurriedly.

Vale led Dante through the house and to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. "You want a tour?" Vale asked facetiously, gesturing around and saying, "This is my room. That concludes our tour," and then he kissed Dante against the door, one hand on his chest, the other on Dante's side, sliding under his shirt.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Dante went willingly, grin sharp and eyes darker now, heat thrumming beneath his skin like the low hum of an engine waiting to roar. He barely had time to make some clever comment before Vale pushed him against the car, and then - hell. That kiss short-circuited his brain. No room for thoughts, just want. Teeth. Tongue. Fingers digging into denim. It was filthy in the best way, and it knocked the breath right out of him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When Vale pulled back, Dante stared at him, stunned and a little dazed, like he’d just been hit by a truck full of fireworks. “Shit,” he muttered, laughing as he shoved a hand through his hair. “Okay. Damn.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Once they were in the car and Vale kissed him again, Dante leaned into it this time, hand cupping Vale’s jaw with a surprising kind of tenderness for how wild the moment was. When Vale broke the kiss again and started driving, Dante flopped back in his seat with a groan.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He shifted in his seat, resting one elbow against the window, the other hand trailing down his thigh with slow, deliberate movements. “I ain’t just gettin’ you goin’, baby,” he said, voice rough around the edges, “I’m warmin’ you up.” He briefly thought of his cousin, who had chastised him for getting to town and sleeping around, but, well, he wanted ass. What was wrong with that?

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Especially pretty boys with curly hair.

[somegrumpynerd]

Bitty update number... 5? 6? Anyway!!

Sorry it's been so long since I updated you guys, work has been really busy and I guess these two have gotten better about staying out of sight. Or out of my sight at least, maybe I should ask my coworkers if they've seen anything? Although, I dunno if they'd be happy with these little guys running loose around here so maybe it's best if I don't...

Anyway, the only one I've been seeing kind of reliably is the horror bitty, who comes and sits across from me when I have my lunch to eat the food I left out. I still try not to say anything cause I don't want to frighten him.

Usually he's the only one I see, but then one day I spotted the little cross bitty peeking around a corner at me! I felt bad cause I was almost finished my lunch so I didn't have much to offer him, but I held out some of my chocolate bar for him anyway in case he was hungry. Well!! Apparently he was!

He came right up to me this time! Granted, he took a bite of the end of it and immediately ran off again, but that's a start right? He's definitely a lot more skittish than the horror one, but I did manage to feed him a couple more times and he seems to stay a little longer before he runs off.

I don't know if he has a particular thing for chocolate or if he's just excited about food because the horror one doesn't share lol

Speaking of the horror one!!

It took me a while to notice but, I guess he's been getting closer to me when we eat? He used to sit across the hall but now he's pretty much right next to me!

Maybe that's why the cross one feels more comfortable? I still don't want to do anything to spook him but he seems pretty chill, maybe if I'm lucky I can have 2 lunch buddies lol

[schellis]

There are no places you can hide. Not from me.

Open image for higher resolution :]

Versions without effects & (mostly) flat color below the cut :] (love it when i do more detailed lineart and forget that most of it's going to be in dark shadow. waugh /lh)

Removed additional lighting + shadow effects

Flat color (because the wires get hard to see down the line lol)

[fruit-punk-art]

A Wood Paneled Basement, 2024

Marina Constantine

Glass and plastic beads, found quilt squares, sewing thread and childhood artifacts on acrylic and cotton yarn

[fiepige]

Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:

Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release

You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')

[christakisbang]

happy @chanrizard day ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ insp., saranghae nunbit image credit

[0v0theo]

[sincerelyrf]

simply don't have all the brain space to articulate it 100% but that scene in the last episode of mismag 2 where Evan talks about how there isn't a space for him in the world, and that feeling he alludes to that basically suffocates him which says you are not as important as whatever is going on in your friends lives,,, god that's fucking real but also, a thing I've learned over the years: that knowledge that you cannot be the number one priority all the time in your chosen people's lives becomes so much easier to carry when you have people who will put you first some of the time. the people who love you will make time for you. and you'll only realise the difference between the ones who like you and the ones who love you when you realise just how much less you're having to fight to have those people pay attention to you. and it means more when they show up because they're choosing you. and while there will always be work, it's so. much. easier.

[rox-of-iu]

my old blorbos are back in my brain

heart pirates my absolute beloved. shame theyre chillin somewhere in the ocean lol (do not mention the pre-time skip hats of penguin and shachi I'm still attached even tho its already been a million years since then)

anyway every time i remember that Law and Kid are assigned german and Scottish by Oda i gain one hundred years

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID: an 11 panel comic featuring characters from the owl house. Panel 1- a cloaked Darius sneaking around a wall. panel 2 he peaks around the corner, saying "well? Did you retrieve...the package?". Panel 3 Hettie Cutburn (who has old Hollywood style text announcing "surprise Hettie Cutburn!" next to her) says "Darius! Of course! Took some digging but I found them eventually. Tell the boy I say 'hi!'". Panel four- she hands documents labeled "classified" to Darius. Later, Hunter (post timeskip) walks through a door in Darius' home, saying "hey Darius, hey Eber, I'm ba-". Next panel- Darius, Willow, and Eberwolf on the couch. Hunter says "...willow?", She replies "hey hunter!", he asks "what are you guys doing?

Darius says "oh nothing...except looking at pictures of you as a baby!" Holding up the documents from earlier. We see two pictures of a younger hunter framed like panels- the first is of hunter as a baby/toddler aged hunter freshly sprouted out of the ground with a blanket around him, covered in dirt, while the second one shows a young scout Hunter covered in bandages receiving his sprig plushie. Darius' narration reads "courtesy of Hettie Cutburn- she found the only surviving copy of your early life medical records and gave them to me". Willow says "aww, you were so cute!". The final panel shows Hunter looking embarrassed/stunned as Willow takes a photo of the documents, and Darius says "I'm considering it an early father's day present- so, thank you, Hunter". End ID]

MERRY DADRIUS WEEK!!! Thank you to @sergeantsporks for hosting! There's other prompts I wanna do but they'll probably be late (maybe I'll do them in bulk and upload them on the final day). Til then here's a silly comic!