#literally half way into the middle of the night and they just say ‘hey we’re coming over’ and then I’m in the car with them eating donuts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mediumgayitalian · 7 months

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“Take the exit here.”

“How come?” Nico asks, dutifully putting on his blinker and merging into the right lane. “We’re not even at half tank.”

Will clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s, uh, not for gas.”

A pause.

“Oh, Solace, you’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m sorry!”

Nico throws his hands up, ignoring Will’s screech of both hands on the wheel, I value my life! “There is no possible way you have to piss already. You had half a slushie!”

“...Well.”

“William Andrew Solace, I swear to God.”

“I got distracted!” Will cries, eyes big and round as he pouts. “The Abstract Iron Centaur is a monument, okay, I forgot what the point of the rest stop was for.”

Nico groans. “I’m not sure you should be allowed to go to medical school. You’re going to forget a scalpel in someone’s lungs, or something.”

Immediately, he knows this is the wrong thing to say. The sheepish grin vanishes off Will’s face, replaced with something despairing, before it’s hastily shoved back on.

The winding road finally gives way to the advertised rest stop, partially obscured by a Welcome to Georgia sign with a modernist-style image of a peach that annoys him for no reason. We’re glad Georgia’s on your mind. (False. Georgia is never on his mind, except for how Will can’t say Georgia without slipping into his accent and Nico has to take that golden opportunity to mock him. And then die.)

“Right,” Will says finally. He forces a laugh. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, then gets out of the car without so much as a word.

Nico watches him go.

“Well,” he mutters to himself. “Shit.”

He waits in the car as long as he physically can, which is anything between thirty seconds and four business days. A glance at his watch informs him it’s closer to two minutes.

He kicks a stone across the parking lot, debating the implications of searching for his friend. It hasn’t really been that long, so he’s not sure it’s socially appropriate, and then he wonders when the hell he started caring about being socially appropriate. They are friends, after all, because in a group icebreaker question about siblings in seventh grade, Nico had growled none, on the account that she was killed by a drunk driver when I was ten and Will had laughed, brightly and morbidly, and said hey, my brothers were murdered, too! Twinsies! and killed the vibe rather brilliantly for literally everybody else in the room.

He gives into his impulse eventually, striding onto the surprisingly soft grass and looking, halfheartedly, around the spacious grounds (he’d decided searching the bathroom would be a touch too far). His mission gets sidetracked, however, because the heat is less oppressive under the shade of tall, weeping willows, and there’s a small breeze, and he is struggling to shove his various musings into the Repression Box where they belong.

Will, starts one of said musings, has been acting weird as shit long before he showed up at his house in the middle of the night.

It had started around January? If he had to guess. But Will is always kind of weird in the winter, so he hadn’t thought much of it, just offered to break into his house more often so he didn’t feel too suffocated. The usual. But the strangeness had persisted through the spring – the sudden drops in mood, the hair-triggers to clam him up. Both of which are usually a Nico thing. Will, more often, just shoves all his negative emotions down to the bottom of his soul until he gets one half-mark wrong on a test and sobs himself sick about being useless while Nico stands guard outside the bathroom door, agonised, unsure how to help. And then the two of them never talk about it again.

Over the last few months, things have been a little less balanced.

“Hey.”

Nico jumps. Will stands slightly, shoulders still hunched slightly, but definitely less cagey than earlier. He holds out a cup of coffee Nico recognises as from a vending machine.

“Hi,” Nico says softly, smiling tentatively. He takes the coffee. It’s black, and too hot, just how he likes it.

“You are going to stain your teeth,” Will observes, as he always does.

“Bite me,” Nico responds, following the script.

A genuine smile pulls at his face.

“You ready to get back on the road?”

“Yep.”

They fall into step in their hike back to the Jeep – Nico hiked farther than he meant to. Will’s flip-flops slapping rhythmically against the packed dirt of the trail is a familiar sound, and it eases some of his own tension, putting a bit more prep in his step. When he glances quickly over, Will is breathing normally, shoulders slack, much calmer expression on his face.

“You should let me drive,” he says as they approach. “You’ve been behind the wheel since practically dawn; maybe you should take a nap or something.”

Nico shakes his head, waving a dismissive arm. Frowning slightly, Will acquiesces, climbing back into the passenger side.

“I’ve had two coffees and half a slushie,” he explains, resting his hand on the back of Will’s seat. He cranes his neck behind him, careful of the family walking an unleashed dog as he pulls out. “I’m good forever.”

“Caffeine doesn’t work on you,” Will points out.

Nico pauses.

“...True.”

He hadn’t realise Will had noticed, actually. Although he supposes it’s not too surprising – Will has known him a long time, Will is observant, and Will generally enjoys lecturing people about anything he can get away with, up to and including their general health and safety. Nico, in all his bad choices, is a favourite target of his. He can probably recite his solo midnight speed driving from memory.

“It’s just –” Will stops, waiting until Nico’s safely merged back on the highway before continuing. “It’s three and a half hours ‘till we get to Atlanta, Neeks, and it’s already three-thirty. We’ll have to stop again for food, probably, at one point, and we’ll have to stop for food, soon, and who knows what the traffic will be like –”

Carefully passing the person going sixty in front of him, finally breaking into open road, Nico takes half an eye off the road and digs through the centre console.

“– I mean, if it’s bumper to bumper, then what? It’ll be rush hour soon, shit, I shoulda planned for that, shit, do we have a jerrycan? We should have a jerrycan, remind me to get a jerrycan for the trunk –”

Finally catching sight of the CD he’s looking for (and barely managing to swerve and avoid a massive pothole that would have for sure cut their trip short, but he managed, so take that, Reckless Driving Lecture Will that lives in his brain, who’s God now), he hands it to Will. Still actively stressing about literally nothing, he opens it, polishing the disc on habit and sliding it into the slot without so much as pausing.

Nico smirks.

Yeah, maybe he knows his friend, too.

“– I mean, just blankets and a first aid kit is not enough. Really, we should have some provisions in there. Oh, and rope, ‘cause what if we get stranded in the mountains –”

The radio clicks as it reads the disc, then, suddenly and without warning, the stereo rumbles with heavy bass and pounding beat.

Will cuts himself off. “Hey, is this –”

Nico smirks wider. He chances another look away from the road, just in time to watch a magnificent smile break across Will’s face, wide and a little crooked, showing all his molars – a real one, the one he gets when he’s caught off-guard, the one that makes his hands fluttery.

“You’re playing In The Zone!” he exclaims, laughing delightedly. “Without complaining!”

Bingo, Nico thinks.

“Technically, I didn’t play shit.” He gestures at the empty CD case in Will’s hand. “You’re just like a hermit crab. I hand you things, you hold them.”

“Shut up.” But there’s no bite to the command, smile still stretching wide. If Nico looks, he can see the tiny snag of his barely crooked front tooth, but he doesn’t look, because he doesn’t care about that, obviously. He has his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, fully focused.

Obviously.

They do get into disgusting traffic. Will is distressed about it, up until someone cuts them off so closely they both nearly actually and genuinely die, and he is immediately lit up in a rage so incandescent Nico wonders if he will ever be able to look away from straining biceps and a clenched jaw ever again. More distantly, he wonders if and I hope you get three consecutive aneurysms and your family leaves you to fucking rot in a hospital bed, you leprous shitdick will be on loop in his head for the rest of time. He kind of wants to put it on a shirt. Will’s linguistic talents should be studied.

“Stop thinking about it,” Will demands, socking him (hard! What the shit!) in the shoulder. His face resembles, quite exactly, the shade of the setting sun. “Purge it from your memory.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Nico responds, smirking.

“I wasn’t –” A pause. Nico bites back a snort. “Cutting people off is just so rude.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I mean! I mean.”

“Indeed.”

“If it was – an ambulance, or something, I would understand, but he cut us off just to get immediately stuck in the same traffic! I don’t understand the point!”

“Truly the behaviour of a leprous shitdick,” Nico agrees. His grin starts to genuinely hurt his face, but he ignores it in favour of snickering.

Will sinks into his seat, pulling his hoodie over his eyes. His ears, as usual, stick out a little, and they’re red, too. Nico nobly resists the urge to flick them.

“I hate you.”

“I think you’re quite attached to me, actually. After all, I’m not a –”

“If I hear the word leprous come from your mouth one more fucking time, di Angelo, I’ll give you leprosy. For real. I’ll find it.”

Will probably could find a vial of pure leprosy somewhere, actually, so Nico shuts up. (He’s seen Will’s weird vial collection. Most of it is just, like, various bacteria, he’s pretty sure, but Will is kind of morbid and Nico knows his sense of humour is garbage because Nico’s sense of humour is garbage, and there is a reason they’re friends, and if Nico found a vial of leprosy somewhere he would keep it, too. Can leprosy be vialed? Who knows. Will, probably.)

Once he’s sure Nico is not going to tease him anymore about his temper tantrum, or at least for the moment, he turns back to his book. Every so often, he looks up, observes the three miles per hour they’re crawling, and sighs, loudly and lengthy to himself, muttering something about railway systems and zoning laws and government incompetence. Nico doesn’t ask. He was free from the jail that was history and geography lessons last month. He is determined to learn absolutely nothing for the next six months, at least.

“I’m paying for the motel or hotel or inn et cetera,” Will says, randomly.

“No,” Nico replies, easily.

Will reaches out, calmly, and pinches him on the thigh. Nico does not yelp indignantly because he is a Man, and can handle Will’s weirdly pointy fingers.

“You paid for gas.”

“Yep.”

“And you have car payments.”

“Mhm.”

“And you bought Dunkin’s.”

“True.”

“Nico,” Will says exasperatedly, “this whole damn trip was my idea. Let me pay for shit.”

“I enjoy wasting my father’s money,” Nico counters, and Will pauses, considering. “Come on, commie. I know the idea of spending a banker’s money on stupid shit pleases you.”

He knows he’s starting to win, because Will sighs in a very particular way that Nico has identified as why am I letting this dumbass get away with this again, says, “Spending money is capitalist, Nico,” and turns, begrudgingly, back to his book.

Poorly hidden behind the pages, he’s smiling.

Nico tallies his victory.

The traffic finally eases by around eight o’clock. Victorious, surely, except that they’re still quite a ways from Atlanta. He considers getting off at one of the various exits promising shelter, and in fact decides he is going to, but for some reason, his hand never drifts to his blinker. Never turns the wheel slightly to merge, never eases off the gas. He keeps going, an going, and going, music playing softly, stars beginning to shine through the darkening sky.

Beside him, Will lets out tiny puffs as he exhales, even and sluggish.

“You are a grandmother,” he whispers fondly, shaking his head. In the quiet of the road, interrupted only by the whipping whipping winds – he should have pulled the roof back up when they were stuck, shit – and odd flash of headlights of a passing car, he lets himself soften, sighing back against his seat and easing up slightly on the gas.

Will glows, faintly, in the moonlight.

It’s funny, ‘cause he’s a sun child. Nico has teased him about it for years, in fact; his hair, his bright blue eyes, his stubborn clinging to his aesthetic of wannabe surfer boy. The gold ring he wears on his thumb, the sun pendant that rests on his heart. Swathed in yellows and blues and golds, all the time, with a sprinkling of bright green and neon orange just to remind everyone that yes, he is red green colourblind, and no, that will not stop him from making fashion choices.

But the silver suits him. It softens him, instead of washing him out, reminding Nico that the sun shines white. The low light casts gentle shadows on his face, too, drawing attention to his strong brow and straight nose.

Forcing his eyes back on the road, where they should have been the whole time, Jesus, he notices the giant green Downtown Atlanta sign, and follows its arrows. The first exit he sees, he turns, getting lost three times before he finds the hotel that was advertised.

Pulling into the largely empty parking lot, he shuts off the car, then turns to Will, screwing up his face. He has to wake him up, at some point. Obviously. Unfortunately he cannot simply melt into the shadows and reappear in a hotel room. As awesome as that would be, with his luck, he’d pop into an occupied one, and that’d be a whole host of problems.

Deciding he’ll actually get them a room first, he heads inside, speaking quietly with the desk host.

“Single or double?” they ask pleasantly, voice similarly lowered for the hour.

“Uh,” Nico says, “double?”

The host pauses, eyebrows flicking up at his hesitation. “...Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nico flushes. He adds, belatedly, “Please.”

Eyebrow raised in amusement, the host reaches into a drawer and pulls out two sleek key cards, tucking them into a little envelope thing and handing them over. “Room 409,” they say, nodding towards the elevator.

“Thanks,” Nico responds, and walks out the door. He realises, as he exits, how much of a general failure he is at communicating with people who are not Will, and considers climbing through the window of his sixth floor room out of sheer embarrassment. The realization that he does not have the skill to drag Will up there with him is the only thing that stops him.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, once he’s gathered their bags and some of the red has faded from his face, “we’re here.”

Will hums a little, voice gravelly. Nico’s lip quirk up.

“Where?”

“Somewhere to sleep.”

“‘M sleepin’ jus’ fine.”

His accent is so, so heavy with sleep, and it’s just – God, he wishes Wil hadn’t trained himself out of it. In Nico’s professional opinion, Will should talk like that all the time.

Authenticity, and all that.

“C’mon, Will.”

After another minute of coaxing – which Nico indulges purely because he knows for a fact Solace will have no memory of it in the morning, in any other circumstance he’d poke him awake – Will uncurls enough to stagger to his feet, stumbling as he gets out of the vehicle. For his own safety, Nico wraps an arm around his narrow hips, guiding him up to the room.

“Mnhgh,” he mumbles, the second the heavy door closes behind them. He walks two steps to the nearest bed, face plants in the middle of it, and starts snoring, feet hanging off the end, one flip-flip still stubbornly clinging to his foot.

“Dork,” Nico murmurs. He gets ready like a normal person, tugging on a sleep shirt – might be an old one of Will’s, actually, because Nico certainly never bought a Shania Twain concert t-shirt – and wrapping up in the wonderfully plush blankets. “Goodnight, Will.”

He gets a snore in response. He burrows deeper into the covers, smiling, drifting off to the sound of his best friend’s rhythmic breathing.

———

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thetomorrowshow · 2 years

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“Griiaaaan! It’s cold.”

“It’s not cold. Be quiet.”

And the stupid thing is, it is cold. Grian’s never lived in a desert before, but he’d expected it to be hot all the time, not just during the day. It’s the desert, after all—the only things that grow here are spindly leafless bushes, and all the animals that he’s spotted spend most of their time in the shade of sand mounds and rocks.

Most of the nights have still been a bit warm for what Grian’s used to, but apparently the winter’s coming on fast, and it surely has nothing to do with a certain Red King. An execution had occurred just this morning, and now Ren is Red, and apparently the rest of the world has been suffering from it.

“Yes it is,” grumbles the pile of blankets beside him, and Grian sighs.

He’s supposed to be on watch alone, for half the night, then wake up Scar to watch the other half. Scar, however, thinks that keeping watch is stupid, even when Grian has repeatedly stressed that he is no longer the only Red on the server, and one of the others is a very dangerous enemy to them.

“If you’re cold, get in bed,” Grian tells him, and Scar shifts and bit before speaking, teeth clacking together exaggeratedly.

“It’s c-cold there too!”

Grian rolls his eyes, wraps his arms a little tighter around himself. His sweater’s getting pretty scraggly these days. He just had to darn the elbow last week, but that’s about the extent of his knitting skills. If it falls apart completely, he’ll be stuck in just his undershirt, nothing to keep him warm in the approaching winter.

“You know, there’s a way to make us both warm,” Scar teases, his head emerging from the blankets to wink at Grian. Grian shoves him.

“Scar! Stop it and go to bed!”

“Oh, come on, I didn’t mean anything!” Scar says innocently. “I just meant if we were both in bed right now, we could be sharing body heat! I don’t know what you thought I meant. You have a dirty mind, Grian.”

Grian buries his face in his hands. He never should have signed up for this. Out of the ten-some other players in the immediate vicinity, why couldn’t he have blown up anyone else? Why couldn’t he end up with loyalty pledged to Tango, or Etho, or literally any other player on the server?

“C’mon, Grian,” Scar wheedles. “Nobody’s gonna attack! We have the cactus walls, and the lava moat, and the alarm system you rigged today! Even if someone did try to take some sand, we’d know.”

“Right. The alarm system that consists of a bunch of bells and string, which goes off at the slightest breeze. I have so much faith in it.”

“Great, we’re on the same page! So it’ll be totally safe for us to sleep together.” “Scar! I will push you off my mountain!”

“Hey! I resent that—it’s as much my mountain as it is yours.”

Grian lifts his head. Enough of Scar is visible that he can see the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

And somehow, he’s half tempted to agree with Scar just to get him to go to bed.

It is pretty chilly out, after all. And he’s very tired. He’d only volunteered to take first watch because he really didn’t want to be woken up in the middle of a sleep cycle. First watch just means staying up a couple of extra hours and then sleeping soundly.

He glances at Scar again, who—oh, he’s making the puppy-dog eyes—

“Fine,” Grian grumbles, hauling himself to his feet. Scar scrambles up as well and runs for the house, sand flying behind him.

“At least shake the blankets out!” calls Grian. Scar ignores him.

Does he really want to get into bed with a madman? All it takes is the Red haze getting to Scar, and he’s dead in an instant. No armor, no weapon, nothing to protect him from being stabbed in the gut by his supposed ally.

Then a bitingly cold gust of wind blows sand in his nostrils, and Grian decides he’s rather fed up with all this desert stuff and would much rather be asleep, Scar or no. They should be safe to not worry about watches until tomorrow—after all, Scar’s done nothing to torment anyone (other than Grian) this week! Never mind that it’s Monday night.

He heads inside, shucking off his sweater right outside the door to shake it off. His bedroom is the first one on the left, putting Scar deeper in the house and therefore safer, so he turns to go in there—

Of course. Scar’s in his bed.

He’d held onto some strand of hope that maybe Scar had been joking about sleeping together, maybe he’d just been trying to get Grian to go to sleep so he could set out on some dastardly scheme without anyone to hold him back. But Scar’s there, blanket pulled up to his chin, a nightcap (where did he get that?) on his head.

“Why, hello there, Grian!” Scar grins at him. “Ready for some sleepy-times-with-Scar? I’ve been warming the bed up for you.”

Grian almost walks right back out the door. Suddenly, being on watch doesn’t sound that bad.

This might be the last full night of sleep he gets for a while.

“All right. Ground rules,” Grian says, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Scar cheers, arms up in the air, the blanket falling off to reveal a grey six-pack and copious amounts of sand.

“Scar! Put a shirt on! That’s the first rule, wear clothes!”

“But-but-but skin contact, Grian!”

“I am putting my foot down! Clothes on in bed!”

Muttering darkly to himself, Scar rolls out of bed, wearing nothing but his nightcap and a pair of shorts. Grian takes the opportunity to tear the sheets and covers off the bed, shaking them out before stretching them back over the thin mattress. He really ought to change the sheets, but he doesn’t have the wool nor the time to make an extra set. They’ll have to make do with this for now, and maybe he can take a moment tomorrow to wash them.

Scar’s put on a t-shirt, which Grian supposes is the best he’s going to get. He kicks off his shoes and socks, strips out of his jeans and dusts his legs off. There’s enough sand clinging to his leg hair that his skin has practically changed color, a clear line separating the brown and starkly pale from where his socks had been. That’s just awful. Of all places, why on earth did Scar have to pick the worst one?

He can dip into the river to bathe tomorrow, and maybe he can convince Scar to wash off as well (not likely, seeing as Scar has as much aversion to a bath as a feral cat, but it’s worth a try).

He’s washing the sheets anyway. It won’t be a problem to get them this little bit dirtier.

Grian climbs into bed, and Scar hops in next to him immediately. “Second ground rule—” Grian starts, but before he can finish, Scar has almost entirely enveloped him in a burning hot hug.

He can feel the tension just ooze out of Scar’s body as they lie there, Scar’s body burning his at every place they touch. The man sighs, burying his nose in Grian’s hair.

And Grian. . . .

Grian relaxes too.

Just a bit! And it’s just—it’s really just because he’s lying down, and he’s been so terribly tired. No other reason.

Still. He’s hesitant to push Scar away. He does, of course, sitting up to pull up the covers and thereby disrupting Scar’s hold.

“Second rule,” he repeats. “No touching. No cuddling, hugging, or anything of the sort.”

“That’s a bad rule.”

Grian sighs. “Oh yeah? Why?”

Scar gestures wildly, almost knocking the candle off the bedside table. Grian leans over him and grabs it just in time, blows out the flame. “Well—well, the whole reason we’re sleeping together is for shared body warmth! No touching totally ruins that!”

Grian shouldn’t give in easily. He really shouldn’t. But now bereft of Scar’s touch, he feels even colder than before. All the burning points of contact are just numb, now. And Grian really wants to be warm.

“All right, fine.”

Scar tackles him before he can even lie all the way down. Grian decides to just accept it, honestly. What else can he do?

“Third rule: no talking. We are here to sleep.”

Scar nods, releasing Grian for a moment to mime zipping up his lips.

Good. Grian lays back against his pillow, pulling the blanket up to his collarbone, and sighs. It’s not too bad, really. At least this way, if someone comes to kill them in their sleep, they’ll go out together.

That’s . . . a weird thought to have. Grian’s in the middle of decidedly not analyzing it when something ice cold presses against his legs.

He definitely does not screech as he kicks against it. “Scar! Get your cold feet away from me!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just that I’ve been so cold ever since I died, and you’re like a mini space heater over here!”

Grian groans, trying to maneuver his legs in such a way that as much of the covers as possible are between his legs and Scar’s. “I’m about to bring back rule number two, so behave.”

Scar falls silent again, and Grian tries to relax (in his arms). It’s not difficult to feel the pull of sleep. It’s not difficult to let sleep claim him, his limbs heavy and brain slowing to a soupy mush. It feels so nice to not be poised for battle, not be planning their next move. He hasn’t felt this peaceful in weeks.

“Grian?” comes a whisper from beside him.

He’s suddenly aware that he’s been drifting. He's not sure how long it’s been. Hours? Minutes?

“Rule number three,” he grouses.

A shifting of the covers, pulling them taut. “Sorry. Don’t worry about it!”

Reluctantly, Grian drags his eyes open. The world is still dark, the air as still as before. Scar had started to ask a question, and curse him for it because he knows that Grian’s too curious to let it go now. He has to know what Scar wanted. “No. Wha’ is it?”

“What do you miss most about Hermitcraft?”

Hermitcraft. He hasn’t properly thought about it in a while. It’s not that he’d forgotten it, but the longer they spend in 3rd Life, the farther away it is in his mind. This is—what, the sixth week?

Six weeks since he last did anything with his mansion. Six weeks since he restocked the Barge.

“My diamonds,” he says after a moment. “I was so rich, Scar. I had stacks of diamond blocks. Not that I don’t miss other things,” he adds. “Good community, and my mansion, and all that. I just miss the security of so much money.”

Scar hums into his hair, a shiver running down Grian’s back at the tingly feeling. A minute passes, and while Grian’s still barely keeping his eyes open he’s also still curious.

“What about you? What do you miss?”

“Jellie,” Scar says instantly, some sort of wistful longing in his voice that Grian hasn’t ever heard from him.

It’s understandable, of course. It’s his cat. It’s just that the entire time they’ve been playing this death game, Scar has never wanted something as badly as he wants Jellie right now. It’s touching, in a way—the idea that his love for that cat is so strong that even his Red name can’t make it waver.

And in another way, it’s annoying. Because somehow, Scar has retained the capacity to love and want and he’s only felt that way about a cat.

And Grian is definitely not jealous of a cat, of all things. That would be—that would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?

If he were fully awake right now, he’d probably stomp off to his creeper farm or go dig sand for a couple of hours until he's completely forgotten about these gnawing feelings and can focus.

But sleepy Grian acknowledges them, holds them close to his chest, and lets himself feel how desperately he wants to be wanted.

Right now, he’s as close to Scar as he can get, head pressed against his chest and strong arms around him. If anyone happened upon them right now, they would instantly assume the obvious.

Yet Grian’s never felt more alone.

“Scar,” he whispers before he can stop himself. “If I wasn’t here, would you miss me?”

Scar's been shuffling around every couple of seconds, so it’s apparent when he goes utterly still.

“Um. You’ve taken me a bit by surprise here, G,” Scar laughs nervously. Sleepy Grian takes that exact moment as a chance to listen to the rational side of Grian’s brain, which is screaming for him to shut up, run away, hide.

“Sorry,” Grian immediately says, face burning. “I—forget I said anything—”

Then Scar presses a kiss into his dirty hair, and Grian’s brain short-circuits.

“Of course I would miss you,” Scar murmurs. “I mean, we all would, but I would miss you the most. I didn’t put you on a llama and carry you away to the desert for nothing.”

Scar’s voice sounds so very fond that Grian can’t help it when his stomach flips a little. He pushes his head up against Scar’s chin, curls a little closer into his body. Scar really is as cold as he’d said. Grian finds himself wondering if he runs warmer normally, which of course makes his brain send him all sorts of ways he can find out when they get back to Hermitcraft.

Not that that will ever happen. This is—this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just two bros, cuddling and falling asleep together. Hermitcraft—and even just tomorrow—will be back to normal.

And perhaps most importantly, Grian cannot allow Scar to become a weakness. He cannot let their enemies see him like this, exhausted and yearning and lonely. He has to be strong to keep the both of them safe.

For now, though, he can just pretend like the game doesn’t exist. He can press closer to Scar, his skin burning in such a good way, and live in Scar’s arms.

In the morning, things will go back to normal.

And when Scar whispers, rasping words loud in the silence of the room, “Grian, I really really like you, I think,” Grian pretends to be asleep.

#3rd life smp #trafficblr #scarian #desert duo #grian #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #mas writes #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.#sometimes you just gotta rewatch 3rd life and spiral #this will be uploaded on ao3 under the title 'so taut it taunts the song'#fair warning this is a bit sad

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rainbow-femme · 9 months

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So obviously I love just how much LGBTQ+ media exists now, and how much media has LGBTQ+ characters in it, but something Gen Z and later generations will never experience is being so desperate for anything that you end up finding the weirdest gay indie movies imaginable, watching them once at 2 am and then never seeing them again, and being haunted by the half remembered plots because you cannot for the life of you track them down again

So I would like to give you that experience vicariously through two of the ones I watched over a decade ago. If you recognize these please let me know I would love to track them down

The first was about this French gay dude in America who was marrying a lesbian friend to get a green card, and his boyfriend is like

“Hey babe my sibling is coming to town and going to stay with us.”

And the French guy goes “That seems like a bad idea, on account of you telling me that every time they come into town they become super toxic and make you the worst version of yourself and ruin your life.”

And the boyfriend is like “Ok but what are the odds that would happen again.”

The sibling I’m going to use they/them for because in an example of wonderful handling of trans characters, this person continually changes their mind about their gender, which is fine, except they keep managing to get full sex change surgeries every time it happens which is absolutely wild to me because it’s implied they have fully transitioned multiple times. They come into town having had a full MTF transition to the point of both top and bottom surgery and hormones but they’ve decided they’re a man again so they want a place to crash while they have a full FTM transition and I feel like I vividly remember them saying something about finding a doctor who can make them a pair of testicles. Like, specifically testicles was what they brought up, no other bits, this doctor apparently only made and attached artificial testicles and this character decided to start there

So naturally they start isolating the boyfriend from everyone by convincing him that everyone is out to get him and his French boyfriend sucks and is holding him back to the point that the boyfriend I’m pretty sure starts physically abusing the French guy along with other emotional abuse

And the story culminates in the two of them tipping off immigration about the green card marriage and literally get this dude deported, like he is handcuffed and put into a car and taken away, and also probably screwing over the lesbian friend who had agreed to marry him after the boyfriend had asked her to do it to help them

And as the car is driving away the boyfriend looks at the sibling and gives a “Nuh uh, I’m done with you” head shake and starts chasing after the car the French dude is in only to be hit by a different car and presumably killed

And that’s it, that’s the movie

The second is probably my favorite half remembered middle of the night gay movie

It’s about two lesbian friends who seem to be trying out dating each other to see if the relationship would work, and they end up meeting a group of BDSM lesbians who go “Uh, didn’t anyone tell you that lesbians don’t do monogamy anymore? We’re all polyamorous and have BDSM subculture personalities that we live in 24/7, that’s the only way to be a lesbian”

(Side note I don’t think this movie is actually bad about BDSM or polyamory stuff, it’s more about how people just coming out can easily get sucked into doing what they think they should and end up unhappy and over their heads in order to fit what a “real [X] person” looks or acts like. The characters who legitimately enjoy the lifestyle seem to be written in a good way based off my 10+ year old memory of my single viewing)

So the two lesbians decide that one is going to full time be a Daddy personality and the other will be a Little Girl personality, and they can sleep with whoever they want except the Daddy one can’t sleep with a different Little Girl or vice versa because that’s cheating

And this movie was so good because these two had 100% no knowledge of what they were actually supposed to do in BDSM situations and just kept acting like they did and the people in the scenes were like “… Ok, I guess I’ll trust you’re going somewhere with this?” and they never were, they were always just stalling for time

The best example is when the Little Girl one met a butch sub who was a Little Boy, I guess, and she wanted to do a three way with the Little Boy and the Daddy, and again they take things pretty literally so in the scene they’re like “ok you’re my dad and this is my son so that means you’re his grandpa.” And the Daddy one again has no idea what to do when genuinely faced with an experienced sub so she goes “Um, let’s make him sit in a box?” so they get a comically small box and make the sub squat down in it but again they have no idea what to do next and it culminates in the Little Girl saying she’s being drawn between the Daddy one she had been into before all of this and the Little Boy one she just met which pisses off the Daddy one so she leaves, fully confusing the Little Boy sub who thought that was all part of the scene

And then the Daddy one decides if the other is gonna have a new person she will too and she finds a super experienced femme domme and tries to flirt by pretending to be a dog and bringing her something in her mouth and the femme domme is just like “Ok A. I know you’re not actually into this so I’m not going to do anything to you because you wouldn’t like it, but also B. Even if you were I am so far above your experience level you would not be able to take it. So WTF is your problem cut it out.”

And there’s like a BDSM spin the bottle where you kiss or smack or lick the boot of whoever you land on and the Daddy one kisses a different Little Girl which pisses of the original Little Girl so she storms off so the Daddy One fully sleeps with the second one, and then gets in a fight with the original one over how one cheated because she got with the same archetype as the other but the other also cheated because she actually got feelings for someone else

And somehow they resolve everything and the story ends with them turning this into a performance art piece. You don’t see the actual performance art, probably because the writers wanted them to get wild applause but couldn’t think of a performance art piece based on this that would actually earn wild applause so you just see them being applauded while wearing a bunch of ties and jackets and scarves and stuff to I guess symbolize them trying to be things they weren’t

And then you see the butch sub getting whipped or spanked or something by the femme domme to show that everyone got their happily ever after

Heartstopper is great and all but they just don’t make ‘em like that anymore

#again if anyone recognizes these please let me know I want to see how much of what I remember is correct #gay movies #gay media #queer movies #queer media

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barbiecrocs · 11 months

Text

The House Masseur

Eddie Munson

tags! assumed cheating (no actual cheating), massaging, a wee bit of drinking alcohol, very slight praise, oral sex (fem receiving) WC. 2420

Barbie's note... Heyyyy. Can you tell that I literally pulled all of this out of my ass? Like down to the tags and everything. Hella surprised that I pulled 2000+ words out of nowhere like props to me. Enjoyyyy!!

“Mhm! Oh, yeah, right there!”

“Harder?”

“Yes! Please!” Eddie listens to your hurried moans through the door, tears bubbling in his eyes that he desperately tries to wipe away. His feet make a pitter-patter sound outside the door as he paces back and forth out of nervousness and anger. Letting the question, “How dare you let another man touch you?” run circles in his mind. Your moans seem to get louder and louder the longer he stands out the door and he busts in on impulse, “Y/n! How could you do this to me?” He walks in, eyes zipping around the room. “We’ve been together for so long! You know that if you needed anything, you could've just asked me for it! I’d do anything for you.” Your clothes are drizzled along the floor, body oiled up, towel on your butt, and a mysterious man’s hands on your upper back slowly working down to your butt. “And here I find you… getting a massage?”

You and your masseur were in the middle of your massage and the stubborn knots in your back were finally easing up after endless kneading and caressing, which isn’t all the rage since he’s getting paid by the hour. To be honest, you were starting to think that your friend’s recommendation wasn’t all that and it seems like you need to get a new masseur. You sat up and faced Eddie with a towel wrapped dangerously low around your chest. You didn’t have the strength, time, or patience to deal with this. “Eddie, you know that I’d never cheat on you and you know that if we are in a rut or argument, I'm always the first one to try and work things out, you should also know that my back is fucking killing me so we’re gonna continue the massage now.” You readjust yourself in your masseur's foldable massage table, back popping and cracking a couple of times as you gesture the masseur back over to you. A soft moan slips out of your mouth when the man's hands target a painful spot on your back. “You can stay and watch for your peace of mind. I don’t care. Hey, you can even pick up a thing or two and you can be the one to give me massages. Then I won’t even need this guy.” You laugh at your own joke before Eddie leaves with a “Thanks, but no thanks.” Only hinting at the fact that this is not the end of this discussion.

—

You roll over in bed just to find him scowling at what was the back of your head. “Eddie-” You begin but get interrupted. “What does he give you that I don’t?” You look at him sideways before laughing, only making him scowl deeper. “Eddie… Isn’t it obvious? Massages, duh!” He begins to sputter, but you cut him off. “Listen, I already told you that you can stay and watch, maybe pick up a few things if you want, but what you’re not going to do is complain all night when there are ways to fix this.” You roll your eyes and turn back over to your other side. Eddie pulls your back to his chest by your waist, murmuring about how he will give you the best massage ever while he drifts off the dreamland.

—

He’s a man of his word and the next massage day he comes in, grabs a chair, and sits almost too close to the massaging action. “Eddie, I know that you want to watch, but do you have to sit that close?” He ignores your question and that's when you realize that he brought and is now using a pen and notepad to jot down whatever he feels right. You sigh and start to part your lips to make a funny comment, but are hushed by a studying student, “Shhhh, not right now. I’m learning.” You then emerse yourself into the massage and roll your eyes which is half caused by a good knot in your back being kneaded out of existence.

Once the session is done, instead of saying your usual goodbyes, Eddie interjects and scowls at the masseur for a brief second, shakes his hand, says something inaudible then leaves. You shrug at the masseur before sending him on his way and closing the door before heading over to Eddie. “Eddie, what did you say to the masseur guy before he left?” He stops in his tracks, being the doorway to your shared bedroom. “I told him that his services would no longer be required and that I had attained all the information I needed.” You almost look flabbergasted and dumbfounded until you realize this is totally in the league of what a jealous Eddie would do. “Wha… Dude! You can’t just-” He then interrupts you with a skinny finger dragging across your lips, “You’re the one that said I could stay and watch. You even said that if I was good enough,-” You try to say something but he adds another skinny finger like the sassy man he is and hushes you once more. “You even said that if I was good enough, you wouldn’t need that guy anymore so why not cut him out of the picture right now? I promise that I will be more than efficient, just wait till your next massage day, and you’ll thank me.” He shuts the door with a wink, leaving you with your jaw dropped to the floor and the couch which you stomp over to. You grab the remote and plop down to watch the show that you two planned to watch together just to get back at him. As you start to immerse yourself in the show, you can’t help your mind from wondering about his massage skills and that you’ll probably have to call your masseur for backup or the ER if he really messes up.

—

It’s been a couple of hours since you got home from work. You already settled in and showered, now you were just waiting for your masseur to get here and your day would be complete when he left. Except you forgot that Eddie told him off or did whatever he did and now the only man who gave your back a break wouldn’t be here to relieve you today. “Y/n! Come to the bedroom.” Instead, you had Eddie. Which…Wasn’t too bad, but he also wasn’t a professional here to work on your back and you were extremely terrified that he would somehow reverse your progress. You stand up on weak legs from the couch where you were lounging and step your way to your said destination.

Through the closed door is a much more romantic setup than what your regular masseur would set out for you. A rose petal trail that leads to a massage table that looks homemade and stable at the same time, you almost assumed that he’d bring out wine or champagne. And you assumed right, he comes to you with a silver tray that has your favorite wine and champagne in separate glasses with the option to pick either one. You look up from the tray that you’ve never seen in that house just to see Eddie in a get-up that you know he would not only never wear, but also never had. A white pirate-type shirt that was kind of flowy and open in the front, black slacks with white horizontal stripes, and on the very bottom, he kept it in the wardrobe and wore his custom hell fire socks from high school that had holes in the bottom. The outfit was strange, but you could see that he put his foot in this little project, and that went a long way with you so even if it does undo some of the progress, at least he tried?

You finally stop your analysis and take a glass for yourself and leave the other to him only to see that he also has two glasses to choose from and would base what he drinks on your answer. You sit down on the homemade massage table and one of his hands work their way to your shoulder. The movements were a little rough since you still had your shirt on until he instructed you to strip naked and handed you a towel. With him watching, you strip down and wrap the towel around your chest. You don’t know where he got these magical fingers from, but now you don’t question it. You’re more focused on trying not to let your drink glass fall out of your hand from the relaxation of your body. “Mhmmmm, Eddie.” There it was, the moan of satisfaction that he had been waiting and yearning for. Just in time, you finish your drink, and he tells you to lie down on your stomach and push your towel down to your butt. He reaches to a table behind him, grabs a bottle of oil, opens it, and squeezes a thin line down your back. His fingers gently spread the liquid to everywhere it needs to be and get to work on your shoulders first. His fingers are a bit ridge at first, but the minute he reaches one of your knots, it's like first nature.

He begins to somehow do wonders on the knots in your back, identifying them, and then kneading them just right. Every circle and dig he makes into your back drags out loud moans, unlike the ones your usual masseur drags out. “God, Eddie. Where did you learn all of this?” Your eyebrows knit together and moans continuously spill out of your mouth much to his pleasure. “You can say that I’ve been studying, practicing, and working very hard never to come home and see that man with his hands all over you again. Aka Youtube but I guess the masseur taught me a little something.” You would laugh at his joke, but his kneading doesn’t stop, most thoughts in your brain getting muffled, resulting in them not being said. He begins to work his way down to your lower back and lingers for a second before removing your towel and massaging your ass. “Eddie…”

“Shhhh, let me work my magic.” You don’t carry on with the questions since it feels so good. With every rub, his fingers move closer to your inner thighs than the last. "Ass up." He says, referencing your legs as he cups the underside of your ass. You obey without a word and a finger trickles lightly between your lips, just barely digging in. Goosebumps coat your skin no matter how warm you are with the oil on your body. He switches from his finger to his thumb which starts to rub repeated circles on your clit. When you begin to relax into his touch, he goes in with his mouth. He licks stripes up your pussy with eager slurping noises filling the room before darting his tongue in and out of your needy hole. You grind back onto his face, only making him more keen to show you a good time. "I’ll never get enough of this fucking pussy." He leans into your grind for more stimulant until ultimately giving into his and your needs.

You don't see it, but you know that Eddie is undressing from the way that all touch has left your skin and the sound of clothes hitting the floor. But it’s not long before he can keep his hands off of you, “As much as I want to fuck you from the back, I know I shouldn’t. Honestly, that's probably where your back problems originated.” He then flips you on your back and without a second thought, you wrap your arms around his neck.

He plants a hand on your left thigh and the other on the towel by your head. “Ready?” You give him a nod with your eyes squeezed shut, and he experimentally pushes into you before deciding you could take anything he gives you. “Eyes on me.” A hand lightly raps on your jaw a couple of times to wake you out of your dazed state. When he notices that you’re ignoring his orders, his hand grips your neck, and his teeth graze along your jawline, briefly sinking his teeth into it. You spring to life from the pleasure-filled pain and your arms tighten around him. “That woke you up, huh? Are you ready now?” This time you give him a verbal response and he begins to gently snap his hips into you. You hiss from the sudden movement, but you quickly adjust to his speed, moans clawing their way out of your mouth.

“Fuck, how I’ve missed these velvety walls of yours.” With that sentence, he claims your lips in a longing kiss while rutting a fair pace into you. His lips suck yours for only several seconds at a time then nip the meaty flesh before adding his tongue into the equation. “Oh, and these lips. So silky, smooth, and plump.” He says in between kisses which start to trail to your neck, leaving hickeys in your wake. His continuous actions drag you closer to your orgasm. But despite all of that, you couldn't help having this nagging voice in the back of your head that told you that these hickeys would be a pain no matter how good they felt now. Or the fact that even this position would somehow have a negative effect on your back. But all that worry and nagging leaves your mind when you feel your lower half heat up and the knot in your stomach loosen. "Eddie! I'm so fucking close.” Sweat beads on your forehead and your legs squeeze his torso, only making it harder for him to please you, but he persists in making you climax. “Then cum for me!” As if his words were the key to a locked box, you came with him only a few deep pumps behind you. He doesn’t take the time to slide out, instead, he collapses on top of you.

“Still gonna call that masseur?” He asks as a serious question. “Eddie, no need to worry, I’m deleting his number.” You joke. “Also, I finished the show we were watching.” His demeanor changes to a pouting child that can’t have another lollipop. “You’re joking right…” You shake your head. “Y/N!!!” Now it’s his turn to turn around and have your arms wrap around him.

#smut #eddie smut #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut

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banannabethchase · 1 year

Text

Yuta really only wants one thing in life. He's pretty sure it's impossible. How unexpected it is, then, that his two boyfriends orchestrate it for him.

For @sarahcakes613 A super late birthday gift for the incomparable Sarah <3 Love you dear! I hope your birthday month is magical!

Also this fic tried to kill me.

Yuta is in the middle of packing up his gear when Claudio presses up along his back.

“There’s my sunshine,” Claudio murmurs, lips to Yuta’s ear. “My winner.”

“We are in literal public,” Yuta laughs, reaching back to rest a hand on Claudio’s hip. “Like, I appreciate it and all, but Caster and Bowens are staring.” He nods over to the Acclaimed, who are scissoring each other and making weird little kissy noises.

“Let them look,” Claudio replies. He kisses Yuta’s neck.

Yuta would do anything to stay in this moment, but he’s already running a little late for his flight. “I can’t, Swiss,” Yuta says. It’s miserable, but Yuta turns around and steps away. “Remember?”

Claudio’s face darkens, just the tiniest bit. “Right. Of course.” He nods. “Eddie.”

Yuta exhales. He won’t feel guilty. He won’t. “My flight leaves in an hour and a half, so I’m already behind.” He chances a look into Claudio’s dark eyes. He sees no anger there, no frustration. But there is something he can’t quite figure out. “I’ll miss you.”

“What would you say,” Claudio begins, so slowly it’s like he’s choosing each word individually, “if I asked to join?”

It takes Yuta second to process what’s been said. “I would ask if you forgot that this is Eddie we’re talking about.”

Claudio nods. “I can understand if it would make you uncomfortable.”

“It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable,” Yuta says. He’s suddenly flooded with images of what could be done when it’s both of his lovers in one room, when Claudio and Eddie are able to put aside their differences for one night. For him.

It’s a wish he’s had before. It’s a wish that’s too good to be true.

“Oh,” Claudio says. His smile is soft and sweet. “What do you think your Eddie would say?”

“Eddie would come at you with brass knuckles,” Yuta deadpans. “You know that. I know that. I don’t even know why we’re entertaining this line of conversation.” He reaches up to touch Claudio’s face. “I love you for it, but I don’t think it’s – it’s not worth it.”

Claudio frowns. “It sounds as if you’re saying you aren’t worth it. I need you to know you are.”

“It’s not that -”

“Go to the airport, my love.” Claudio leans in and kisses Yuta on the forehead. “I’ll work this out for you.”

He’s halfway out of the venue when he hears a familiar set of footsteps.

“Aw, Yoots is off to hang out with one of his boyfriends.” Mox grins at him, and Yuta has to slap his hand away before he grabs his cheek and pinches. Dickhead. “Really getting around, kid. Proud of you.”

“Aren’t you literally fucking half of the Elite right now?” Yuta asks.

Mox’s grin goes devious. “Wouldn’t you like to know. And it’s three quarters.”

“Ew,” Yuta mumbles. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” He makes his way down the hallway. “Keep an eye on Claudio, okay? I don’t want him to be…” Yuta trails off. “I mean, I’m going to see Eddie.”

Mox claps him on the shoulder and falls in step next to him. “He’ll be okay, Yoots. He said he had something he had to take care of earlier, so he might be busy and distracted.”

“Don’t make it sound like he won’t miss me,” Yuta says, and he’s only slightly pouting as he requests the Lyft.

“He’ll miss you,” Mox says, “but you’ll be getting railed by Eddie, so I’m not sure why you’re too worried about what Claudio thinks.”

Yuta looks up to see Mox doing something that’s probably supposed to be a wink. “Go get a blowjob from an EVP.”

Mox’s grin goes dopey. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Yuta makes his way to the airport and texts Eddie in the Lyft.

[10:23pm]

Hey King on my way to the airport. Flight leaves at 11:55. See you in the morning <3

[10:25pm]

See ya soon baby

Yuta makes it through security seamlessly, and spends the five hours on the plane asleep.

He yawns his way off the plane, the sleep technical but not great quality, and practically stumbles out into the New York sun.

“Jesus, it’s bright here,” he mumbles. He’s still squinting as he fumbles with his ringing phone. “Eddie? Hi!”

“Hey, punkin,” Eddie says, “got Ma’s car, comin’ to get you. What are you wearing?”

“A little early to be hitting on me.”

“You know what I mean.” Eddie’s laugh makes Yuta feel warm and cozy. Safe. “Gotta know what my boy’s got on so I don’t accidentally pick up another cute twink.”

“I’m not a twink anymore!” Yuta laughs. “Jesus. And I’m wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants. Perv.”

“Aw, baby, you know I like you best when you ain’t wearin’ anything. GPS says ten minutes. I’ll see you soon.”

Eddie hangs up and Yuta checks his phone to see Claudio’s message.

[8:38am]

Going to bed now, love. Fly well and I’ll see you soon.

Yuta replies back letting Claudio know he’s landed safely in New York, and doesn’t expect an answer for a while. Claudio had stayed in Seattle overnight for the show and is probably still out cold.

Yuta fidgets a little while he waits for Eddie, yawning, but he finds a sudden burst of energy when he sees Eddie’s mom’s beat up SUV swing around the corner. He watches as Eddie goes from purely angry to elated when he sees Yuta, his smile beautiful.

Yuta feels unbelievably loved.

“Hey, punkin!” Eddie yells as Yuta swings open the door. “How are you?”

Yuta moves to answer, but he yawns. “Tired. Plane sleep doesn’t count as real sleep.”

Eddie searches his face for a moment. “Yeah, you’re taking a nap when we get to my place. Ma can wait. She’s planning on making a big ass dinner for us, very meet-the-parents of her.”

“I’m – I’m meeting your mom?” Yuta hits his head as he slides into the car, and pretends it didn’t hurt. “You could have warned me so I didn’t pack all BCC shirts and soccer jerseys.”

Eddie leans over to kiss him, hand under his chin in a way that makes Yuta’s knees go a little wobbly. “How ‘bout you just dress up the way I like and don’t worry so much,” he murmurs against Yuta’s lips.

A whistle blows, louder than necessary, and Yuta jumps as he buckles himself in frantically.

“Yeah, yeah, let me live, you prick,” Eddie snaps.

“Dude, the window is open,” Yuta chuckles.

Eddie raises a perfectly shaved eyebrow at him. “You think I give a shit, baby?”

Yuta alternates between laughing and yawning on the drive home, warmth spreading across where Eddie’s hand rests on his thigh, and he’s almost dozed off by the time Eddie pulls into a tiny driveway next to a tiny house. Yuta’s never said it out loud, but he’s starting to think of it as home.

“Go take a nap, punkin,” Eddie says once Yuta’s blearily stumbled his way into the cozy home and dropped his stuff. “Borrow a shirt if you need one. I’m gonna go drop my car off to Ma and I’ll be back before you know it.”

He leans over and kisses Yuta enough that it makes Yuta dizzy. It gives Eddie the chance to steer him by the hips and shove him into bed.

“Cheater,” Yuta says, rolling over into the pillow that smells like Eddie. “You know my brain shuts off when you kiss me.”

“Go to bed, Yoots, I’ll see you in a few.”

Yuta toes off his sneakers and chucks his jacket across the room. It lands on top of Eddie’s big chair. Yuta feels himself blush pink at the memory of what they recently used that chair for. He’s tempted to roll out of bed and get naked, go for some sexy pose so that Eddie walks in and devours him.

But then his eyes close and falls off to sleep before he realizes it.

“Hey, sleepy,” Eddie says. Yuta feels the bed dip. “You’re on my side of the bed. Get up.”

Yuta mumbles as he curls his arm around the pillow. And then the pillow shakes him off. He opens his eyes to see Eddie grinning down at him.

“Oh, you’re cuddly today?” Eddie teases. “Good. Keep that energy going.” He pats Yuta’s ass. “Come on, baby, up. I have something for you.”

Yuta rubs his eyes as he sits up, the world fading into focus. “Like, dinner?” he asks. “What time is it?”

“A little after noon,” Eddie says. Now that Yuta’s got a better look at him, he’s recognizing an unexpected hesitance. He’s never seen Eddie hesitant like that. “You ready to wake up and come into the living room?”

Yuta grins at him, stretching lazily. “We could stay here.”

“Uh,” Eddie laughs. “Nah, baby, I think you probably want to see what’s in the living room.”

Yuta pushes himself out of bed slowly. “Do I need to put on a nice shirt?” he asks, trying not to panic. “Is your mom out there?”

“No. And calm down.” Eddie reaches out and grabs Yuta’s hand. “Come with me.”

Yuta walks out of Eddie’s bedroom and – and he’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating

“Surprise, Sunshine.”

Yuta looks between Claudio on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in his hands, and Eddie, fiddling with his phone and anxiously looking from Yuta to the floor and back.

“Um,” Yuta says, trying to come up with something reasonable. He’s still half asleep. “What’s – what’s happening?”

“Sunshine,” Claudio says, smiling up at him. “Eddie and I have – have had a few conversations over the last few weeks.” He chances a glance to Eddie who nods.

“Yeah, we been talking,” Eddie says. He nods to Claudio. “This guy over here was worried he was causing – what was it?”

“Unnecessary friction,” Claudio offers. “After Supercard, I had time to reflect.”

“So did I, laid up in a hospital bed,” Eddie says. “Turns out Dilaudid makes me all weepy.”

Yuta narrows his eyes. “Is that why you called me crying from the hospital?” he fights a smile. “You were really cute.”

“Was not,” Eddie snaps, but he grins over at Yuta, and finally relaxes enough to settle into his chair. Yuta panics for a minute – usually he sits in Eddie’s lap in that chair, but also usually he snuggles up at Claudio’s side, so this is a lot of decision to make in forty seconds. He settles for perching at the edge of the coffee table, most of his weight still on his legs. “You can sit normally, Yoots. You don’t have to hover.”

Yuta sighs. He gets up, walks to the kitchen, grabs a chair and brings it back. “No,” he says, “this is already weird. You are not making me choose between the two of you.” He tries to be stern as he looks between his two…his two boyfriends. He can hear Mox laughing now. “What is going on?”

“Claud called me and asked if I could talk,” Eddie says, shifting down in his seat. “I hung up on him.”

Yuta waits for what comes next, but Eddie’s silent. “That doesn’t explain any of this.”

“I called him back,” Claudio explains. “It’s been a while that I’ve wished to get this,” he pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to Eddie, “conflict over and done with. And, well. We both have something that matters a lot to us in common.” He looks up at Yuta, looks him dead in the eye. “Someone.”

Yuta fidgets, just a bit, in his chair. “So, what? Is this some sort of truce because you two both wanted to spend time with me this weekend?” He can’t explain the anger or frustration. He just knows it’s there. “This, like, split custody? It’s the kid’s graduation or something, so the two of you will be civil?” He stands up. “Do you two even realize how weird this is for me?”

“This is nothing like that,” Claudio says. He looks over at Eddie again. “Sunshine, you know where the – the problems between us started, yes?”

“Because the two of you are the most stubborn pricks I’ve ever met?” Yuta asks, leaning against Eddie’s fridge.

“That’s fair,” Eddie says. “Yeah, we’re stubborn. Claudio left for Florida, I took it personal, he didn’t think about me, and we decided to be assholes about it for, like, twenty years. And then you came along and fucked both of us up.” Eddie smiles. “In a good way, of course.”

“Last night, after you got in the Lyft, Eddie and I had a long conversation,” Claudio says. He sets down his tea and makes himself comfortable on the couch. “If either of us is to be good enough to be yours, we need to work through the absolute nonsense we have harmed each other with over the years. Otherwise, it will bleed over into you. And neither of us want that.”

Yuta relaxes, but only slightly. “So this is some therapy session?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Eddie says. He stretches out, hands folded behind his back. “It’s more that it’s all about you this weekend, baby. Whatever you want, and he and I,” he nods over to Claudio, “will make it happen.”

Yuta wants to ask more about the phone call, about what exactly went down, but he knows his two boyfriends well enough to know they’ll go into excessive detail or brush it off. “Whatever I want?” he asks. He moves back into the room and straddles the chair. He does his best to get as sweet as possible, a weakness for both Eddie and Claudio.

“Anything you can dream of, my prince,” Claudio says. His eyes are warm and sincere. It almost feels unfair for Yuta to drop what’s next.

“Okay,” Yuta says. “I’m gonna go take a shower, because I smell like airplane, and then what I want is for both of you to fuck me. Together.”

Claudio freezes and Eddie bursts into laughter.

“I told you!” Eddie says through chuckles. “I knew that’s what our boy would ask for!”

“Sunshine, I expected you to be at least a little less predictable,” Claudio says, rubbing a hand on the top of his head. “My goodness.”

Yuta rests his chin on his hands where they’re folded on the top of the chair. “You said you’d give me what I want. That’s what I want.” He’s trying to call their bluff, is the thing. He’s not willing to start something like this, to have everything he’s every hoped for dangled in front of him, only for the two of them to freak out ten seconds into it and run off.

Yuta’s many things, but he’s not an optimist.

“Punkin, you go take a shower,” Eddie says, smiling at him. “And, when you come back, Swiss and I will be civil and kind to each other, and you’ll see we’re not fuckin’ around here.” To Yuta’s surprise, Eddie shoots a smile over to Claudio.

Yuta slowly stands, sure any move will startle one or both of the others as, but Claudio and Eddie just look at him, little smiles on their faces.

“You guys are being too regular about this,” Yuta says, slowly backing toward Eddie’s bathroom. “If I leave the shower and you two are covered in blood, I’m leaving.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like us covered in blood,” Eddie says, waving it off.

“I hate to agree, but you do have a thing for blood, Sunshine.”

Yuta flips them off as he turns for the shower.

Yuta’s scrubbing his hair with a towel as he walks back into the living room, expecting Claudio and Eddie at each other’s throats, only to see the two of them muttering under their breaths and staring at the TV.

“Um, hi,” Yuta says. No response. He cranes his head around to see the two of them in an intense Mario Kart battle. “Are you two gonna pay any attention to me?”

“Last lap,” Claudio says. “Hold on, Sunshine.”

Yuta, baffled, lowers himself slowly back into his chair. He watches as Eddie and Claudio continue muttering, leaning their whole bodies as they navigate around obstacles and turns.

“Is this normal?” Yuta finally has to ask. “Is this what I should expect from you two?”

“Yes,” they both say at the same time. Yuta’s beginning to feel a little unnecessary.

“Alright, well, if you two are busy playing video games, I’m going to go back to bed and get started by myself.” He tries to sigh as pathetically as possible, pulling in some of the boo-boo eyed energy Matt had been trying on him during the last couple of matches. None of it works.

Eddie looks over at him. “Watch this, baby.” He presses a button and Claudio yells something incomprehensible and probably German. Yuta moves to see a blue shell hit Claudio just before the finish line, then Eddie’s Bowser careens past him.

“And that’s how you do it!” Eddie says, dropping the controller back onto the coffee table. “Sorry, Claudio. You still can’t beat me at Mario Kart.”

“I could beat you at anything else,” Claudio mumbles, folding his arms over his chest. Yuta does note the tiniest of smiles, so that’s something. “Next time we will play Mario Party and I will decimate you.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s smiling – really smiling – and Yuta doesn’t know what to do with that information. He folds his hands behind his head and reclines on the couch. “That’s not what that one episode of Da Party says.”

Claudio’s jaw drops. “You watch that?”

“I’m equally confused,” Yuta mumbles. He’s pretty sure he’s in some sort of alternate reality right now. “What – seriously, why are you two so chill about each other? You tried to kill each other back at Supercard and now you’re all normal.”

Eddie shrugs. “You come first.”

Claudio nods. “If it’s for you,” he looks over at Eddie, “some things are bigger than a grudge.”

Yuta is stuck between wanting to cry and wanting to propose to both of them at the same time. He settles for something in between.

“Alright,” he says. “Fine. In that case, you two are required to fuck me so good I can’t overthink this anymore. Deal?”

Claudio and Eddie exchange a look that has history behind it. Yuta wants to know the story, wants to curl up with it in bed and fall asleep to it, but there’s no time.

“As you wish, punkin,” Eddie says.

“Jesus, you and the Princess Bride –”

Yuta doesn’t get a chance to finish, as he’s pushed up against the wall by Eddie, head spinning as he’s kissed so hard his brain fogs up.

“That’s it, Sunshine,” Claudio murmurs in his ear. “Lean into it. You look so beautiful.”

The combination of Eddie’s lips and hands with Claudio’s voice is destructive, taking Yuta apart joint by joint, until he’s spinning and the world around him turns blurry.

“Eddie, I think he may have forgotten how to breathe,” Claudio says. He sounds far away.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, pulling back. “Wheels, you good?”

Yuta manages to nod, sucking in air like a drowning man. “Yeah,” he gasps. “Just – this is weird. This is, like, every one of my sexual fantasies that don’t involve Zoe Saldana coming true at once.”

“Who?” Claudio asks, confused.

“She was in Star Trek, Avatar, those Marvel movies,” Eddie says. “Our boy’s a nerd, we already knew that.”

“Hey!”

“He’s not wrong, Wheeler,” Claudio laughs. “Let’s get you to a bed so we can really get you out of it, shall we?”

Yuta nods. Before he can process it, Eddie and Claudio have traded places and Claudio’s got him lifted up, like it’s nothing.

“So pretty,” Claudio says, walking Yuta to the bedroom. “Look at him, Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie says. He sounds fond. Yuta made him sound like that. “You’re beautiful, Wheels.”

Yuta beams at it, feels himself glow. He loses sight of whatever’s supposed to happen next, what he was planning on saying, because Claudio’s dropped him to the bed and yanked off his pants with one pull. He’s suddenly glad he decided to forego the tee shirt. He looks over to see Eddie settling in the chair. Yuta has fond memories of the things he’s done with Eddie in the chair, but it’s too far away right now.

“What would you like, Yuta,” Claudio says, leaning in to kiss Yuta’s neck. “Talk to us, love, it’s all about you.”

Yuta has to fight through a delicious fog to answer. “Both of you,” he mumbles. “I want – I want both of you.”

“Yeah?” Eddie says. He’s looking at Yuta reverently, concerned. Like Yuta could ever want him to stay away when he’s in Eddie’s bed.

Yuta nods. “I want both of you. Right here.” He closes his eyes again.

The bend shifts beside him and he can sense Eddie curling up next to him. “You have both of us,” he promises. “What else?”

“Your fingers,” Yuta says. “That – to start. And Claudio, I want you to kiss me again.” He opens his eyes to see Eddie and Claudio grinning at each other, like they already knew.

“We can do that, angel,” Claudio says.

“Wait,” Yuta says. Everyone freezes. “I first want you two naked. Like – no clothes allowed.”

Claudio pulls his shirt off of his head.

“Fuckin’ European demigod up in my fuckin’ bedroom,” Eddie mutters, but he follows suit. Yuta drinks them both in.

“Mine,” he mumbles, beaming up at Claudio and Eddie.

“Yours,” they both say at the same time.

Yuta giggles. “I could get used to that.”

Claudio kisses him, intentional and deep, while Eddie warms lube between his fingers and gently nudges Yuta’s legs open.

“Good?” Eddie asks.

Yuta breaks away from Claudio just long enough to say, “Yes, please.”

“So sweet,” Claudio laughs, pressing his lips to Yuta’s forehead.

Yuta buzzes with the praise as Eddie’s fingers trace his rim and Claudio dives back in to kiss him. It’s almost too much at once already, with Eddie and Claudio working together to make him feel good, and Yuta might fly up to Neptune before all of this is over.

“Good?” Eddie asks, sliding the first finger into Yuta’s body.

"God, yes, Daddy," Yuta moans, arching up against Eddie's fingers.

"Yes?" Claudio and Eddie say at the same time.

Yuta opens his eyes to see Claudio and Eddie staring at it each other. "Oh," Yuta chuckles. "That's awkward. I was talking to Eddie."

"You call him Daddy too?" Claudio asks. He's pouting. It looks ridiculous.

"It's 2023, you two. People can have two daddies."

"Yuta, I'm gonna need you to shut up now." Eddie nods at Claudio. “Swiss?"

"I've got an idea," Claudio says with the kind of grin that makes Yuta sparkle. “Sunshine, love, up you get.”

Yuta mumbles about it, annoyed, but he gets to his knees in front of Claudio. He leans in for a kiss. Claudio grants it, but then Yuta feels Eddie up against his back, and he’s reminded of how nearly impossible this moment is.

He doesn’t have time for Claudio’s ideas. “I – I want you to fuck me,” Yuta says.

“So here to do that, baby, but you gotta be a little more specific.” Eddie presses a kiss to Yuta’s shoulder. “What kind of fucking? And who?” He turns Yuta’s head and grins at him. “You want the big guy, you might need more than just one finger.”

Yuta lights up. “Oh. That’s true. I’m gonna need, like, at least two fingers.” He looks at both of them. “Do you get me?”

Claudio laughs. “Are you asking for us to work you open together, Sunshine?”

Yuta nods. “Yeah. If you wanna be really gay about it you can hold hands during.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing gayer than what we’re doing right now, baby, but we’ll try our best.”

Eddie lays Yuta down on the bed and slides his finger back in, easy as anything. Yuta pushes down on it, finally feeling like this may actually happen. That he’s not going to wake up in a few moments from the best dream he’s ever head.

“If I could, Eddie,” Claudio says.

Yuta opens his eyes to see Eddie and Claudio staring at him, almost hungry, next to each other, and it’s enough that his head nearly spins. “This feels like a dream,” he says as he watches Claudio pour the lube over his fingers. “Like, the best dream possible.”

“Good to know,” Eddie says. “Yo, Swiss, get over here before our boy starts getting desperate.”

“Starts?” Claudio mutters. Before Yuta can reply, he’s slid a finger into Yuta next to Eddie’s.

Yuta babbles out something incoherent even to his own ears. He takes a deep breath. “Oh, that’s – that’s perfect,” he says.

“So no more?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up and stop teasing me,” Yuta insists. “Another – please?”

“So sweet,” Claudio sighs.

Yuta closes his eyes and lets it happen. He doesn’t know whose fingers they are at this point, just that there’s eventually four of them and some are Claudio’s and some are Eddie’s and all of them are blowing his mind.

“Whattaya think, Swiss?” Eddie asks. “He ready for you?”

“I’d say so,” Claudio says. Yuta feels shimmery at them speaking to each other first, like they need to check in with each other as much as with Yuta. “Yuta, love, how are you doing?”

“Ready for you,” he mumbles, twisting on the fingers still working inside him. “C’mon, please?”

Eddie and Claudio laugh in tandem. “Well, I’m not gonna deny my punkin what he wants.” Eddie crawls up the bed and kisses Yuta. “You ready, baby?”

Yuta nods, lifting his legs to hook them around Claudio’s hips. “Yeah, please Claudio.” He sighs as he feels the blunt head of Claudio’s cock at his hole. “Fuck, yes.”

“Wow,” Eddie says, stroking Yuta’s face. “Never seen you so pretty from this angle before, Wheels.” He leans in and kisses Yuta’s face.

Eddie continues his praise as Claudio slowly presses in, the combination of Eddie’s soft touches and Claudio’s thick length blowing his mind.

“Is he doing alright, Eddie?” Claudio asks,

“I’m good,” Yuta whines. “So – move, so good.”

Claudio laughs as he buries himself so his hips are pressed up against Yuta’s ass. “Checking in with Eddie as well, dear.”

“Doing great, man,” Eddie says, his eyes still locked on Yuta’s. “Both of us.”

Claudio begins to move slowly, and Yuta’s eyes flutter closed again. He reaches out and grips Eddie’s arms.

“Kiss me,” Yuta demands. “Eddie, kiss me.”

“Yeah, yeah, little kiss addict,” Eddie laughs. But he kisses Yuta deep and unyielding, and Yuta leans into the feeling. He grips at Eddie’s back, holding on for dear life as he clenches around Claudio enough to make him swear.

“Oh, you swear now?” Eddie asks, pulling away from Yuta’s mouth. “That’s new.”

“I’ve always sworn,” Claudio says. Yuta looks up to see his teeth gritted, brow furrowed in concentration.

“In English,” Eddie clarifies. “You don’t usually swear in English.”

“What can I say,” Claudio says, driving back into Yuta with a push so intense Yuta thinks he feels it at the back of his teeth, “you two take me apart.”

Yuta has plans, and he’s not willing to ruin those plans just for the sake of coming early. He and Eddie kiss lazily as Claudio pushes into him, and Yuta lets it wash over him, loses all sense in the moment.

“Sunshine,” Claudio grunts, his thrusts growing quicker and more intense, “I have to be honest, I’m not sure I’m going – going to be lasting much longer seeing you and him like this.” He continues pounding into Yuta.

“That’s okay,” Yuta whines, pulling away from Eddie’s lips to answer. “I – I have, oh god, I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” Eddie says, grinning. “Tell us all about it, sweetheart. What do you want?”

“I want you to finish inside me,” Yuta mumbles to Claudio. “Then – then, Eddie, you fuck me next.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Really?”

Yuta nods, clenching down on Claudio’s cock. “Yeah, come on. Want both of you to fuck me tonight.” He opens his eyes and looks between the two of them. “Daddy.”

Claudio goes a little wild with it, like he always does at this point. Yuta feels the moment when he loses control, the way he comes inside of him with a growl and a grip on Yuta’s hips so tight it’ll leave bruises, and Yuta sighs with it. His cock aches with the lack of attention, but it’s worth it to get what he wants.

“God, you still look fuckin’ great,” Eddie laughs. Yuta looks to see Eddie gazing at Claudio with something a little close to the way he looks at Yuta. “You good, Swiss?”

“Incredible,” Claudio replies. He lowers Yuta’s legs slowly and pulls out, causing Yuta to whine involuntarily.

“Oh, calm down, punkin, you’ll be nice and filled in just a second.” Eddie winks at him. “Daddy’ll fill you right up, don’t you worry.”

Yuta beams up at him. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Claudio slides next to Yuta’s other side while Eddie grabs his legs and draws him down to the bottom of the bed. Yuta blinks at him.

“Can’t risk fuckin’ up my surgery,” Eddie says. “Leverage, you know? Work smarter, not harder.”

Yuta giggles.

“Is that a harder joke?” Claudio asks. “Quiet, Sunshine, you and your dick jokes will ruin my afterglow.”

“You ready, Wheels?” Eddie asks.

Yuta nods. “Yeah, Daddy, get in me.”

Claudio pouts again.

“You kiss me,” Yuta demands. He grins. “Daddy.”

“Much better,” Claudio says, and he dives in and kisses Yuta.

Yuta’s mouth goes slack as Eddie pushes in. He’s not as long as Claudio but thicker, and the stretch is heavenly.

“He okay, Swiss?”

Claudio’s already pulled away from Yuta’s mouth. “Wheeler? Are you good?”

“So good, don’t stop,” Yuta mumbles. “Get back here.” He reaches up and hauls Claudio back to his mouth, kissing him like his life depends on it. Eddie slides in and out of him so smoothly Yuta thinks he’s dying.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last long,” Eddie laughs. “Seeing – seeing you – fuck.”

Claudio slides his hand down to Yuta’s cock. “I have him, King,” Claudio says. “You’re good.”

Yuta nods. “You’re great.”

Eddie laughs and gets a little stronger with his thrusts. Claudio’s big hand around Yuta’s cock is almost impossible to handle. It’s so much in him and around him, almost too much, and Yuta thinks if he can’t have this more than once it may destroy him.

“Eddie,” he whimpers, “Eddie, please.”

“I got you,” Eddie grumbles. “I got you, baby.”

Yuta looks over at Claudio. “Harder?”

“Anything you want, Sunshine.”

Yuta comes like a train hits him, before he knows it, Claudio’s lips on his. He gasps, open mouthed, against Claudio’s mouth and can’t quite see all that well as the aftershocks course through his body. Eddie pushes in once, twice, a third time, and then he’s coming inside Yuta.

The three of them have to deflate a little before any words are going to happen. At least that’s how it is for Yuta. He’s not even sure if anyone else is talking at this point, only that the spinning in his head is finally starting to settle.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Eddie laughs. “Yuta, you okay?”

“So good,” Yuta mumbles. “Fuck. Holy shit. Dream night. Best night of my fuckin’ life.”

Claudio and Eddie laugh with him, and Eddie slowly pulls out of Yuta’s body, steadying him. “You good?”

“So good,” Yuta laughs. He feels a bit hysterical and chaotic right now, like the whole world is tilted on its side in the best possible way. “Holy shit. This was, like, every fantasy possible come true at once.”

“Well, not every,” Claudio says. “That Zoe lady wasn’t involved.”

“That’s fine,” Yuta says, snuggling himself between Eddie and Claudio. “Totally fine. If I can have this for the rest of my life, I don’t need anything else.”

Eddie laughs and nuzzles into Yuta’s neck. “I think we might be able to do that. Whattaya think, Swiss?”

Yuta looks over at Claudio. He’s smiling softly, and not just at Yuta. “I think we can, King. I think we can.”

Mini Playlist: Motivate - Little Mix Whatever You Like - Anya Marina Inside of You - Hoobastank 3 - Britney Spears

#ClaudiYoots #EddieYuta #ClaudiYootsEddie #What a fuckin fic it wanted me dead #Why was it hard to write? I don't fuckin know. But it was #And now it is vanquished mwahaha #wtf i like wrestling now???#in which sara writes #sarahcakes613

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willow-lark · 1 year

Text

spring after winter, and sun on the leaves

surprise! part 3 of my most recent soulmate au is HERE for the last day of @bylerweek2023!! it's been so fun participating this week, so i hope you all enjoy the drabble i wrote for the final day. read down below, or click the link to read on ao3! 💕

“I mean,” Will is saying, “I mean, this is going to sound horrible .”

Mike hums, much more distracted with the sensation of Will’s fingers pulling through his hair. When Will was discharged from the hospital, Mike gladly offered up his room so that Will could be more comfortable. But mostly that just means they spend all of their time together in here now, away from prying eyes.

Mike lays with his head pressed against Will’s chest, able to sense his steady heartbeat through the soft fabric of his t-shirt, relaxing into the motion of Will’s breathing. Will’s got one arm around him and the other in Mike’s hair, twisting and playing with his curls.

“I think I might have wanted to tell my mom,” Will continues. “I think—I think she’d be okay with it. It’s just— Hopper.”

Mike chuckles. He likes to think that Hopper considers him to be pretty okay now, since getting out of that Russian prison, but honestly Mike thinks it has to do with the fact that he and El are currently broken up. But now, Hopper and Mrs. Byers very clearly have something going on between them, so Mike doesn’t know if Hopper would altogether appreciate Mike getting together with Will.

“He doesn’t like me very much.”

“It’s awful to say,” Will groans. “He literally just spent eight months in a Soviet labor camp. And he’s El’s dad and everyone thought he was dead . Like, I don’t think my mom would tell anyone if I asked her not to. And it’s not like I don’t trust Hopper. He literally saved my life. I just—I don’t know if it’s safe .”

“Yeah,” Mike agrees. The only other person who knows that Mike and Will are soulmates, is Jonathan, who keeps giving Mike very pointed looks whenever they run into each other in the hallway on the way to the bathroom in the mornings, even though Mike is coming from his own damn bedroom and Jonathan is coming from Nancy’s . And with everything going on in Hawkins right now, tying up all the loose ends from the Upside Down—fuck, Mike still has nighmares about Will not having a pulse, lying there unmoving after he killed Vecna, not being able to wake him up, screaming and crying as he tries. He’ll wake up in the middle of the night and press himself against Will’s warm shape, just to reassure himself that Will’s still here and solid and breathing.

Now, thankfully, the priority is closing up all of the gates and cleaning the town up from all the toxins that seeped through.

Still probably not the best time for Mike and Will to sit down all their friends and family and tell them about being soulmates.

Mike wishes he could. He wants to hold out his wrist to every single person he meets and tell them, Look, my soulmate is Will Byers. Look at my soulmark. See? Do you know how much I love him? You should love him, too. He saved the world. He wants everyone to know how strong and handsome and good Will is, and that Mike has him all to himself.

Of course, that’s not possible, so Mike has to settle for making sure that Will, at least, knows it.

“What are you thinking about, my heart?” murmurs Will above him.

“You.”

Will laughs, now, and Mike sits up next to him. “You always say that.”

“I always am.”

Will just smiles at him, but Mike can still see the tension in his expression. He jostles Will with his shoulder affectionately.

“Hey, we don’t have to tell anyone yet.” Mike leans over to peck Will on the lips. “We’re in this together, yeah?”

“Come back,” Will says to him, a half-whine, and kisses Mike again, harder. Will’s always doing that, yanking him in for a kiss practically every time Mike’s face is close enough. Not that Mike minds—certainly quite the opposite. He remembers the first time Will had done it, with his bashful admission of I wanted to do that for ages , right there in the hospital room.

It’s just fine by Mike—he could kiss Will for another dozen ages, too.

#bylerweek2023 #byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byler fic #lark's fanfiction #posts of lark

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callipraxia · 2 years

Text

Incorrect Quotes, Part II

Or, "How Half Of Isoseismal Emanations Should Have Gone, Apparently."

Powers: Where is Stan? Soos: I'll do you one better, who is Stan?? Ford: Here's a better question, why is Stan?

Soos: Are you laughing at that video of Powers and Ford fighting? Stan: No. Stan: I'm laughing at the comments.

Soos: Gasp Powers: wHAT?? Soos: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish? Powers: inhales Stan, in another room with Ford: Why can I hear screeching?

Powers: What if people had food names and food had people names? Stan: Hey, spaghetti, we’re having Powers for dinner. Soos: What is wrong with you people? Ford: Shut up, chocolate.

Powers: ARE YOU- Soos: F-----g. Powers: KIDDING ME?! YOU- Soos: F-----g. Powers: IDIOT! Stan: …What was that? Soos: Ford banned Powers from swearing, so I’m helping them out.

Stan: We might have gotten into a bar room brawl back in the city. Soos: Well, that was entirely predictable. Stan: One of them punched a gang member. Soos: Ford? Stan: Powers, actually. Soos: Oh, that was going to be my second guess.

Soos: about Powers and Stan They make a cute couple, huh? Ford: They certainly are standing next to each other.

Soos: Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, and wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. Powers: That's deep. Ford: That means that ketchup is a smoothie. Powers: That's deeper. Stan: …You guys are idiots.

Stan: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel. Soos: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel. Powers: A realist sees a freight train. Ford: The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks.

In a horror movie situation Soos: I've got no service in my phone here. Stan: Shoot, my battery just died. Ford: Sorry guys, I just broke my phone with a hammer. Powers: Guys, my phone is a book.

Powers: You know guys, sometimes I feel like Ford doesn't take me seriously enough. Stan: "Sometimes"? Soos: "Enough"? Powers: Soos: Change that to 'at all' and we'll talk.

Ford: You guys worried about Stan? Powers: Totally! Soos: Yeah, he called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?" Ford: And what'd you say? Soos: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno." Powers: Ford: He's lucky to have you as a friend.

Soos, watching Powers & Stan panic: What's going on? Ford: Powers is having a midlife crisis and Stan is just having a crisis.

Soos: points at Ford A human turtleneck, points at Stan a narcissistic monster, points at Powers and literally the dumbest person I’ve ever met. Powers: And who am I? Describe me now.

Ford: That's ridiculous, Powers doesn't have a crush on me. Soos: Yes they do. Stan: Yes they do. Powers: Yes I do.

Ford: I'm bored. Soos: Wanna commit first degree murder? Ford: Sure! Stan, hearing them: No- Stop, don't do that! Put that knife down! Put Powers down!!

Soos: Hey, I say we go down there, kick Powers’s door in, and let him know that we’re in town. Ford: That ain’t the way we do things here. We may have to go in there and run a con, drop a bug, do the smooth talking. Soos: Okay, you come with me, you do the smooth talking, let’s go. Ford: No, we just can’t go in there and kick down Powers’s door. We need a plan. Soos: Well who makes the plans? Ford: Stan. Soos: Stan, what's the plan? Stan: You guys are gonna go down there, kick Powers’s door in, let him know you’re in town.

The gang when they drop food on the floor Ford: Aw man. Throws it away Soos: Five second rule! Stan: Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? Eats it off the floor Powers: Sobs on the floor

Stan: I just want someone to take me out. Soos: On a date? Ford: With a sniper gun? Powers: Both if you're not a coward.

Soos: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of nachos. Stan: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard. Powers: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any nachos? Ford: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

Stan: When I see really attractive people like Soos, I just laugh because I know if we lived in the Aztec culture, they'd be sacrificed for their beauty. Ford: I mean, that's one way to cope with not being attractive. Powers: Works for me.

Ford: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective? Powers: crouches down Soos: kneels down Stan: sits on the floor Ford: Ford: I hate all of you.

Powers, setting down a card: Ace of spades. Ford, pulling out an Uno card: +4. Soos, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you! Stan, trembling: What are we playing?!

Tracey: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Stan: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Soos: More or less, I guess… Ford: That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Quattro: I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Powers: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

Soos: If you got arrested what would be the charges? Tracey: Theft. Powers: Disturbing the peace. Quattro: Aggravated assault. Stan: Arson. Ford: All of the above. In that order, probably.

Ford: Christmas lights? Powers: Check. Soos: Thermos of hot cocoa? Powers: Check. Tracey: Santa suits? Powers: Check. Stan: Shovel? Powers: Check. Quattro: Alibi and bail money? Powers: Check- wait, WHAT?!

Stan: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life. Powers: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back… Quattro: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this. Tracey: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years. Soos: I knew I lost that potential somewhere. Ford: Mental stability, my old friend! Stan: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

Powers: If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier. Powers: Violently practices. Quattro: Violently studies. Soos: Violently sleeps. Stan: Violently shoots pictures. Tracey: Violently boxes. Ford: Violently murders people. Soos: Violently worries about the previous statement.

Stan, to the Squad: I’d die for you. Ford: Then perish. Quattro: You will. Tracey: Please don’t. Soos: Cool. Powers: I’d die for you first.

Powers: Is it still visible? Where Tracey slapped me? Ford: Your face looks like a don't walk signal. Stan: Your face looks like a photo negative for the hamburger helper box. Soos: A palm reader could tell Tracey 's future by looking at your face. Quattro: The phrase 'talk to teh hand cause the face ain't listening' doesn't work for you, because the hand is your face. Powers: …A simple 'yes' would've sufficed.

Powers: Fine! Judge all you want but… Powers, points at Stan: Married a lesbian. Powers, points at Quattro: Left a man at the altar. Powers, points at Ford: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer. Powers, points at Soos: Threw a girl’s wooden leg in a fire. Powers, points at Tracey: Lives in a box!

Tracey: Stressed. Ford: Depressed. Soos: Possessed. Powers: Obsessed. Quattro: Impressed. Stan: Chicken breast. Everyone: …What? Stan: I just wanted to join in.

Powers, rubbing their temples: I am not proud of what I am about to say, but someone get me a cigarette. Quattro: But Powers, we don't smoke. Powers: Cut the crap, Quattro . I'm not an idiot. I know that one in five people smoke. Powers: points at Stan One! points at Soos Two! *points at Tracey * Three! points at Ford Four! *points at Quattro * Five! Powers: Now, I am going to close my eyes, and when I open them, there better be a cigarette between these two fingers! Ford: puts a cigarette in Powers's hand Powers: Thank you. …Light? The Squad: all simultaneously pull out lighters

Tracey: Rules were made to be broken. Powers: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Stan: Uh, piñatas. Soos: Glow sticks. Quattro: Karate boards. Ford: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Tracey: Rules. Powers:

Quattro: So, did everyone learn their lesson? Ford: No. Soos: I did not. Powers: I may have actually forgotten one. Stan: Also no. Quattro: Oh good, neither did I. Tracey: Exhausted sigh

Soos: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Stan and Ford's convo? Powers: Me. I'm in the laundry basket. Quattro: I'm in the washing machine. Tracey: I'm in the closet. Powers: We accept you Tracey . <3 Tracey: No I'm literally in the closet. Powers: Love is love. <3

Stan: We have a problem. Tracey: Let me guess, you caused it? Quattro: Gimme a sec, I'm not drunk enough to listen to this yet. Ford: And it's another Tuesday, your point? Soos: Would shooting you solve this problem? No? Then shut up. Powers: If you're mean the fire, that's our solution to last week's problem.

Powers: Between Tracey, Soos, Stan, and Quattro -- if you had to -- who would you punch? Ford: No one! They're my friends. I wouldn't punch any of them. Powers: Stan? Ford: Yeah, but I don't know why.

Ford: I’m the smartest person in my friend group. Tracey: You hang out with Powers, Soos, Quattro, and Stan. Tracey: It’s not as high a compliment as you think.

Stan: Time for plan G. Quattro: Don’t you mean plan B? Stan: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Soos: What about plan D? Stan: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Tracey: What about plan E? Stan: I’m hoping not to use it. Ford dies in plan E. Powers: I like plan E.

Ford: dies Tracey: Timer starts now! When is he coming back? I say two months! Quattro: Bulls--t. One month. Soos: Nah, half a month. Powers, sobbing: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? FORD JUST DIED! Stan, scratching chin in thought: One week.

after the Squad has been separated for a few years Powers: So what have you been up to recently? Quattro: Leading a revolution with Soos. Powers: Good for you two! Me, I've joined the mob. Quattro: nods Oh, how cool! That's awesome! Powers: I know! Anyway, have you heard from the others? Stan? Quattro: Happily living as a hermit in the woods. Ford? Powers: Wrongfully locked up in an asylum, which reminds me, we need to break him out later. Tracey? Quattro: Cult leader. Powers: Yeah, that sounds about right.

#incorrect quotes #gravity falls #gravity falls characters #for want of a jailbreak #almost wish some of this had happened

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Late Night Favor (Shadow Monster x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Explicit content up ahead (18+ ONLY), Oral, Fingering

Word Count: 4000 Words

Summary: A couple of small good deeds leaves you with a late night visitor, looking to repay a debt.

Request: "You unknowingly rescue a shadow monster and bring it home with you, after a couple days of lurking in the shadows of your home and recuperating it shows you just how thankful it is." I had this idea forever ago but was never able to execute it. My opening idea was that a few kids are shining flashlights at something, tormenting it, and you swoop in to save it and chase the kids away. You thought they were hurting a cat or something, but find nothing and head home.

What do you think? Would you like to take it on? I'd be honored if you would 😊

A/N: *Throws this into the street to appease for the fact I haven’t updated Out of the Woods in THREE MONTHS IM SORRY*

It was the perfect weather for a lazy day inside. The pitter patter of the rain on your window had almost lulled you back to sleep during breakfast, and the thunder had provided great ambiance for reading. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajamas and we’re enjoying a soap opera binge on the coach when the peace was disturbed.

At first it was just the sound of clattering trash cans, not uncommon from the alley outside your window. But then it was followed by the raucous laughter of teenagers, rocks being thrown against the concrete, and a sharp hissing.

You hoist yourself up and off the couch, meandering toward the balcony, expecting to see a bunch of kids fucking around; Maybe using the cover of the fire escape to hide from the rain and smoke some weed.

Ah, memories.

But instead, you see a huddled group of boys pointing a flashlight into the pile of garbage right by the dumpster. One of them picks up a pebble and throws it into the light beam, causing another hiss and a jerk of movement. The boys laugh even louder, the one on the right nudging the one with the flashlight.

“Dude, do it again!”

Flashlight agrees, quickly moving the light into another corner as the one on the left throws a rock in the opposite direction. A shape of pitch black hisses again, deterred by the rock and scared by the brightness. Your brow furrows.

“Hey!”

The boys jump, looking in all directions.

“What are you three doing down there?” They finally look up at you, messy-haired and bleary-eyed. They shrug and ignore you, one even throwing another rock, bigger than before. There’s a sad yelp as it collides with the blackness.

You grit your teeth, grabbing your jacket off a nearby shelf and yell again.

“Fuck off! Leave the poor thing alone!”

They all laugh insufferably, the way most stuck up teenagers do.

“Or what?”

You shrug on your raincoat, picking up the baseball bat you keep strategically placed by your couch.

“Or I’ll come down and make you, jackass!”

You kick open your fire escape, slippers already damp, and start marching down the staircases. The boys get the message and run away, still jeering and laughing. Seems you weren’t as intimidating as you’d like.

You shuffle down the fire escape, slowing down as you approach the poor creature. You lower your back and peak under the dumpster.

“It's okay, little guy, I won’t hurt ya.” You set down your bat and crouch, kissing your lips as you hold out your free hand. All you see is a hint of glowing eyes, nervously peering out, before the dark shape disappears completely, hidden by the shadow of the dumpster. You’re tempted to sit down and wait for it, hoping to check if the poor stray was injured, but the wet concrete looks unappealing. The bottom of your sweats are already drenched.

You stand up, sigh, and go back up the fire escape. You unlatch the dusty pet door on your sliding glass balcony and make sure to leave a hot thing of milk and some water just outside. You ponder going out to get cat food, but the well-timed weather report tells you to stay off the streets. Slumping back down on the couch, you keep on eye on your fire escape, hoping that whatever it was, it’s okay.

--------------

The next day is sunny, the rain clearing away any air pollution and leaving blue skies to shine down through your window, waking you up extra early. As you sit down with a cup of coffee, switching on the news before starting work, you notice the empty bowls on your balcony.

You set down the mug, walking over to the door and checking the bowls. Seems that little stray had needed the refreshment, as both were licked clean.

You refill them, making sure to add cat food to your grocery list.

--------------

After a long day of work, you’re feeling particularly domestic and decide to bake some cookies. Your brain is sore after staring at a screen for eight hours straight, a simple task like this is the perfect thing to keep it from melting completely.

You open up your window, letting the cool night air into your kitchen as you check on your baking cookies. Wiping flour off your pants, you turn on the radio and throw a glance to your living room.

You had set up a tiny blanket pallet right next to your pet door, the weatherman’s warning of another thunderstorm tonight having you worried for your stray. Hopefully a full belly of milk will convince them that your house is safe enough to find shelter in.

But the afternoon is beautiful, not too cold and not too hot, only the slight tang of metal in the air hinting to rain. With a ding from the oven, you take out the cookies and set them on a cooling tray on your window. The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafts over you as you take a sip of your tea, staring out into the city streets. Small puddles still speckle the pavement, catching the headlights of nearby cars and flashy billboards.

A quick sound, something hitting your balcony door, that jerks you out of your reverie. You set down your mug and slowly peek out from your kitchen, wondering if you should’ve grabbed a kitchen knife. But it’s just your pet door, flapping back and forth in front of two, now empty, bowls. Aww, seems your stray took a step inside. Too bad you missed it.

The gurgle of your stomach convinces you to take a crack at the cookies. If they were too hot, you could just wash them down with a nice glass of milk anyway. Maybe even put on a sitcom while you snack.

You lightly tap the top cookie; Warm, but not unbearable. Steam rises as you break it open, blowing in the middle and taking a tiny bite.

Fuck, good job _____.

They’re perfectly done, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. You grab two more, holding them in between your fingers as you hold the other half in your mouth. Maybe you could bring the batch into work tomorrow, give your coworkers a nice surprise. That is if you didn't have 10 tonight. But 20 should be just enough-

Huh, that’s weird. There's only 19, including the one still dangling out of your mouth.

You could’ve sworn you baked 20.

Well whatever. Your coworkers can handle not coming back for seconds tomorrow.

--------------

“Ow! Fuck!”

You bite your lip, trying not to yell out more curse words as you rub your stubbed toe. You limp to your kitchen, fumbling for the light switch to avoid another incident. All you had wanted was a midnight sweet snack, was that so difficult? You’d thought you could navigate your apartment pretty easily in the dark, but the pain in your foot says otherwise.

The light flickers as you finally find the switch, reminding you that you’re going to need to change the bulb sometime soon. But that's a problem for another day; Right now, it’s cookie time.

You don’t bother pouring yourself a glass or getting a plate, devouring the treat in three bites and throwing back a quick swig of milk. It’s almost midnight, not like anyone’s watching-

Oh, wait.

You slowly close the fridge door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the little stray curled up, asleep. The little ball of black was snuggled into the pallet, tossing and turning. A flash of lightning cracks outside your apartment, washing your living room with light. The ball jerks in shock, the thunder afterwards only frightening it more, forcing it to curl up even tighter.

You take small and light steps towards the tiny bed, not wanting to approach the scared beast too quickly. The room is lit up again by another lightning strike and the little stray forces it’s body backwards and away from the window. You crouch down real low, the small bits of light helping your eyes adjust to the layout.

“How are you doing, little guy?” You whisper, mostly to yourself, tapping your fingers against your carpet. Part of you wants to pet it, but think it might be better not to. No need to startle it. “Is the lightning scary? You can come to my room if you want, I’ll protect ya.”

Midst the black, you see two little eyes, little blips of light that open with another flash of lightning. But they aren’t yellow, nor are they slitted, nor are they anything remotely animal.

They're like the headlights of a car, blinding white with no definition at all. Not even pupils. You're startled, eye’s widening as the creature lifts it’s head. A long smile runs across their face, full of razor sharp teeth.

“Oh my, that sounds delightful.” They purr, and you find yourself losing your footing and falling back on your ass. Your fingers dig into the carpet as their body slowly begins to unfurl out of a ball and stretch into a massive form, as if their whole size had been hidden away somewhere else; Like it had been literally in the shadows.

You scramble backwards, breath picking up as the creature stretches it’s long limbs, colorless eyes still locked onto you as it stands up and up. It rolls back its shoulders as it sits on its haunches, its form still towering over you even when crouched. You notice the shades of huge antlers sticking out from the side of their head, only adding to their intimidating height.

The creature still has that terrifying smile, all canines and no molars, it’s unblinking eyes still staring deep into your soul.

You’ve heard people do weird things in times of high stress, of strong emotions, good and bad. Like the wires in your brains get crossed when trying to find the right response.

“Uh, do you want a cookie?”

You think you get that now.

The creature chuckles, a soft timbre that echoes unnaturally.

“No, dearie, I have already indulged in your confections. You see,” They creature leans forward, falling to its knees to crawl towards you. If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear constricting your heart, you’d almost think it was seductive, “You’ve done so much for me these past days, I think it’d be only fair if I helped you indulge in a far-” The creature’s face looms over yours, their arms caging your sides as they lick their lips, “-sweeter treat, yes?”

Your eyes search their face, trying to find signs of trickery or malice, maybe even some demonic sense of humor.

As if I’d even know what that looks like.

“Are you-” You catch a breath, now noticing the fine musculature of their shoulders, and the definition of their arms, “Are you propositioning me, like, for sex?”

The creature laughs again, their eyes crinkling up as they throw their head back. But when they look back down at you, you can almost feel the lust radiating off their gaze, details be damned.

“Yes, lovely, I am.”

You take your eyes off their face, a little too overwhelmed to stare directly into their blistering expression. Not to mention the blinding light which has begun to put red spots into your vision.

Instead, your eyes fall upon their thick thighs, the small tail waving behind them, and how unnervingly sexy you find the way their claws are digging up your rug.

You slowly move your head, catching the creature’s eyes.

“I-uh-I guess? Yeah, yeah I guess that sounds good. Um, what was your name?”

The creature smirks, a single claw tipped finger tilting up your chin, as they whisper,

“Nocter.”

--------------

Well, this is definitely the weirdest way I’ve gotten someone into bed.

Nocter’s antlers brush against your stucco-ceiling as it pushes you down on the bed, their shining white eyes staring deep into yours. Their lack of pupils is almost unsettling, but when they run their claws down your chest and pinch your nipples, you find it hard to care. You bite your lip, fighting back an embarrassing whimper as they trace one finger around the bud, pebbling the skin.

“Aww, has it been a while, sweetling?” You roll your eyes, but let out another squeak as they flick their thumb across your other nipple, the palm of their hand pressing against your ribcage.

“M-maybe.” You mutter, digging your finger into your bed sheets as their hands dance across your skin. One pulls up the bottom of your pajama shirt as it nudges one of their legs in between your thighs, pushing their knee up against your crotch.

“Don’t worry,” They push the fabric up to your neck, laying a kiss on the center of your stomach, then your chest, and then your jugular. When they plant one on your jaw, they lean in real close, “I’ll make sure to treat you right.”

Nocter’s long tongue splays against your jaw, licking a stripe up your cheek as one of their hands moves from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. They slip a couple fingers underneath, lightly petting the area right above your crotch. They’re such a tease, and you love it.

Nocter pecks the side of your face, over and over, while their hand moves further and further down your body at an agonizing pace. Their hot breath sends goosebumps down your neck, washing over your face as they exhale with every kiss. You catch them off guard when you turn your head toward them, catching their lips-mid peck and eagerly sticking your tongue outward. They purr with delight, their thin almost-lips quickly devouring you.

A long string of saliva connects the two of you as you detach, taking the time to shimmy out of your shirt. You pull them closer, your hands digging into their shoulder muscles and fingers just brushing over the long ridges on their back. They chuckle once again, pulling their fingers out your shorts and merely digging their palm into the fabric of your crotch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” You mumble in between kisses, “This is for me, isn’t it?”

“Ohoho,” kiss, “Someone’s showing their feisty side a little early.” kiss, “What happened to my benevolent, saintly saviour?” kiss.

You pull away from their lips, quickly latching onto the crux of their neck and taking a nip. “S’not fair.” You say, taking a deep whiff of their skin as you suck and bite. They smell like brimstone and a bonfire, not quite what you 're expecting, but not unpleasant. “You can’t tease me like that and not-” Your cut off as the pad of one Nocters fingers presses up against your entrance, the fabric only amplifying the sensation as they begin to tease it.

“Deliver?” Nocter finishes, sinfully smug. You throw them a glare. “I’m a good guest, scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes right before they lock you into another kiss, rubbing the pads of their fingers up and down your crotch. They use their hand to push you backwards, sinking deeper into the mattress as they situate their knees under your thighs. One they pull back from the kiss, your face and lips thoroughly debauched, your legs are splayed up on their pelvis and they easily slip off your bottoms. Nocter takes a whiff of your underwear, the crotch now slightly damp, giving you a wink before they throw it over their shoulder.

You jerk your hips slightly upward, and Nocter tuts.

“Patience, sweetling.” They roll a hand down your abdomen, fingers splaying onto your stomach, nails just teasing the skin. With a kiss to your inside calf, Nocters hand ghosts across your entrance. You can’t help biting your lip, the heat and their touch sending your mind into a frenzy.

They continue a path of kisses down your leg, now pressing their finger right up against your hole. They only pause to suck on their index and middle fingers, coating them with a heavy and blue-tinted saliva. Once they’ve reached the middle of your thigh, nipping at the apex, they sink into you.

Nocter’s fingers are long, articulated and move with sure movements. They start off slow, scissoring you open, simpering as you dig your nails into your bed sheets. The pads of their fingers push against your walls, just grazing sensitive spots as they make a slow ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips jerk forward, humping into their palm. They smirk against your skin, nipping another love bite as they retract their fingers until only the tip remains. You catch your breath, holding it until they sink back into you, shoving their fingers forward with far more force.

You whimper as their fingers pull back, only to follow with quicker thrusts. Nocter’s aim is pin-point in finding the most pleasurable spots inside you, the feeling only amplified by the pinpricks of their teeth into the fat of your thigh. The tip of their tongue licks hot trails of spit tantalizingly close to your hole, which clenches around their bony fingers. The slick sound of your juices, the skin of their palm slapping against yours, is downright pornographic.

Your legs try to clamp around their shoulders, the overwhelming stimuli triggering an instant reaction, but Nocter pins your right leg down to your bed easily, never losing focus on fingering you. The tips of their claws trace the inside of your leg, the hard edge of their wrist digging into fat. Your fingers reach to grip around something, anything to keep you grounded as the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. They find their way around Nocter’s left wrist; You’re almost afraid you’ll leave bruises, before remembering how sturdy every part of their body seems to be.

You let out a whimper as the crests of an orgasm seem to overwhelm you, nearly gasping as Nocter quickly removes their fingers. In any other state of mind you might have made a comment, look down and wonder why they’ve stopped. But the heat in your belly compels you to grip their wrist tight and to throw your hips upwards. With a desperate breath, you plead,

“P-please! Please, don’t stop.”

Nocter doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t make a sly remark about your neediness or your lewd movements. They lean forward, giving another kiss right below your navel, and pet your wrist.

“Of course, dearie.”

With a wink, they lean down a lick a long stripe up your hole, giving one last kiss to your leg before plunging their tongue inside.

You didn’t think it was possible for them to reach even deeper inside you with their tongue than their fingers, but the sparks which fly in your core say otherwise. The ridges of Nocters tongue brush against your walls as they flick the appendage back and forth, the tip pressing forward with controlled motions. It doesn’t thrash back and forward haphazardly, but reaches for those sensitive spots and plays with them.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You yelp, feeling an icy-cold liquid run down your ass. From the sound of smacking lips and muffled moans, it must be Nocter’s saliva. They let out a groan, pushing their jaw forward as their eyes clenched shut. The hand on your leg pinches skin as it tightens up, the other pressing your hips down, but the pressure they apply is phantom at best. Nocter seems to revel in your pleading humps for more, meeting each movement with a thrust of their jaw, the base of their tongue stretching you open.

The two of you keep that rhythm for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a couple of minutes. Sweat drips down your chest and off of your belly, your legs muscles on fire as you continue to push upward and into Nocter’s face. You start feeling that impending wave begin to crest again, with your limbs shaking and your throat hoarse.

“Nocter, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-I’m so close!”

This time, Nocter doesn’t let up on their pace, reaching one hand down to deliver a hard slap on your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. Your speech devolves into slurred curses and your hands move to touch them, to find some grasp in reality. Nocter continues to suck and tongue-fuck your hole as your thighs clench around their head. Your humps are tiny and weak, your lower half barely holding itself up.

The knot gets tighter, a firecracker fuse about to blow in your abdomen. In the heat of the moment, your hands find their way to Nocter’s scalp and grab onto the base of their antlers. Their moan rumbles through you, right before you yank their head forward, their tongue hitting the deepest part of you as you shutter and-

“I’m cumming!”

Another moan vibrates against your hole as your body shudders and jolts, your hips still pressed firmly against Nocter’s face. But in the next moment, a heavy weight falls over your body, slumping you down onto the bed. Your chest heaves, eye’s fuzzy as Nocter’s tongue ‘pop’s out of you.

Your gaze wanders over your stucco ceiling, droplets of sweat rolling down your neck as you try and catch your breath. You can feel Nocter’s large hands rolling a massage into your thighs, their own heavy breathing brushing over your crotch.

A fuzzy shape of pure black comes into your vision as Nocter hovers over you, their body hovering just an inch above yours. They give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Feel good?” They whisper.

All you can do is nod, your shaky hands wandering over their back. There’s no sign of sweat on their skin, but you can feel the heat running off of it as they nuzzle into your neck.

As your fingers dance over the ride of their back, you can hear the rumble of a low purr coming from their chest, but they stay hovering over your body. You press your hands into their back, applying weak pressure to encourage them to relax.

“It seems I’ve repaid my debt.” Nocter murmurs into your ear, pushing themselves up onto their hands, pulling even farther from you as their eye’s look around your room. You keep your hands wrapped around their waist, stopping them from fully getting up. They look back to you, white eyes slightly widening.

“Would you-” You take another deep breath, “Want to stay? For the night?”

Nocter stares at you, the black void of their face almost unreadable. But when they run a claw down the side of your face, it burns with affection and longing.

“Would you want that?”

Your room is nearly pitch black, only the lights of the street peeking in between your curtains. Nocter’s body seems to absorb all light near it, their hot body like a heating pad. But their eyes are so bright, so full, so mesmerizing; Like a full moon on the dark city sky.

“Yes, I would.”

Nocter’s nods, their expression barely changing, but you think you can see a hint of a smile amidst all the black. They let their body relax, pressing their chest against yours as they sink into the sheets and nuzzle back into your neck.

You can smell the sweat coating your body and feel the way you stick to the sheets. Frankly, the both of you kind of smell.

But it doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Nocter’s body, eye’s heavy as you peacefully fall into sleep.

#my writing #gender neutral reader #shadow monster #monster/human #monster x reader

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sunflowergirl522 · 2 years

Text

Gnomeo and Juliet

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The Avengers have a party and you wanna watch one of your comfort films. Based on this TikTok and the fact that I’m literally always begging people to watch my comfort movies with me

Word Count: 3249

Masterlist

The Avengers loved their parties, ever since you’ve joined the team every time a mission went well Tony would claim that it was worth celebrating. A win is a win is a win or whatever other excuse he found for it. For bigger missions the party would be more public, but for small missions like the one you had just come back from it was just for the team. You much preferred the smaller ones, you didn’t care about partying with a bunch of strangers and oftentimes you and Wanda would sneak off to your room with a bottle of alcohol and snacks. But the parties you all had as a family were always so much fun and you had to be pried away from them because you had so much fun.

That’s the kind of party you guys were having now. Everyone is drunk except for Natasha, Bucky, and Peter. Nat was usually sober, always ending up taking care of Yelena and whoever else who needed it. You and Wanda normally had Vision take care of you because as an android he never really got much more than a buzz off alcohol. Peter couldn’t drink because he was still a baby in the fact that he was just barely eighteen. And as much as you could tell Bucky wasn’t much of a drinker, each of the few times he did attend one of the parties you never noticed a drink in his hand.

You had made your rounds of groups to hang out with before you opened up your phone to watch TikToks while you tried to decide if you wanted to play more beer pong or not. And by watch TikToks you mean scroll aimlessly through them only half paying attention to just the audios because you’re having issues focusing on anything right now. You’re in the middle of zoning out and staring at your cup on the table in front of you when you hear a Gnomeo and Juliet sound play on your phone.

You’ve been told before that you have a one track mind when you’re drunk so no one would be surprised to find out that the sound playing made you want to watch it and now it’s the only thing you want to do. But you don’t want to watch it alone, and that may have something to do with you also being a bit of a clingy drunk. Soon you’re getting up and rushing over to Wanda and Vis.

“Y/n!” She stumbles as she moves to pull you into a hug. Vision stabilizes the both of you with a hand on each of your shoulders.

“Wands! Wanna watch Gnomeo and Juliet with me?”

“Of course! Vis was just trying to convince me I’ve had enough fun for the night but that sounds boring compared to watching with you.”

“Oh, were you going to bed?”

“I was trying to get her to yes.” Vision says while Wanda shakes her head back and forth. “She’s been feeling nauseous since her last drink.”

“I have not.” Visions words sober you up just enough to notice your best friend is looking paler than she normally does and you nod at him.

“Take care of our girlfriend Vis.”

“I’m sorry I can’t watch it with you.” Wanda pulls you into another hug before you can walk away. “We’ll watch it tomorrow while we’re recovering, how bout that? You can come into my room and we’ll stay in bed all day while Vis takes care of us. For now though you should try Sam.” Your eyes light up as she puts the thought into your head.

“Good idea!” As Vision leads Wanda to the kitchen you head over to the beer pong table, bumping into a chair on your way there, where Sam’s playing against Clint. “Sam!”

“Hey there baby, you come back to lose again?” You can’t help but laugh at both his words and how his tongue sticks out the corner of his mouth as he aims his next shot.

“No, wanna watch Gnomeo and Juliet with me?”

“Not tonight Y/n/n, the winner plays next round and I’m on a streak.” You’re let down at his words but don’t let it show on your face, keeping your smile as you then turn to face Clint.

“Don’t even think about using your puppy dog eyes on me. I’ll be playing next round because Sam here is gonna lose.” He speaks before you can even open your mouth.

“What do you mean I’m gonna lose?! You’re the one who only sunk three balls!”

“That’s because I’m going easy on you man. I’ve got perfect aim, you’re the one who’s missed the last four shots.” As they argue you walk around the table so you’re standing next to Kate.

“What about you?”

“I’ve got next game. If you want I’ll watch after that though.” You know that with these three though one game will turn into two and then three until Sam’s passing out on the table again.

“Nah it’s fine don’t worry about it. I still have people I can ask.” You don’t even bother asking Thor who’s cheering Clint on because you already know he’s gonna want to play. As you walk away from them and start to head over to ask Natasha or Yelena you stop halfway. Natasha’s shoving alcohol away from a groaning Yelena and shoving a water bottle in her lap while rubbing circles into her back. You spin around so suddenly that you have to stabilize yourself on the same chair you bumped into earlier. And then start to make your way over to Tony who’s putting his shoes on.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to head out to put Morgan to sleep. Do you need something Y/n?”

“Nah, just curious.” You wave him off and try to wrack your brain for who to ask next. Steve had already gone to his room so he’s out and even though you could go to his lab and ask Bruce, the last time you watched a movie with him he poked holes through the plot. Peter! He was around here somewhere and you just know he would watch it with you. Because even though he was younger than you he became almost like your partner in crime when you joined. But as you start to look around the room you can’t find him. It’s possible he already left but that would mean that he left without saying anything. Since you can’t find him and those were all of your options you can’t help but feel the helplessness that starts to fill your core. You can feel yourself start to tear up and quickly find a corner to sit in to cry into your arms. You were an emotional drunk as well as a clingy one so even you knew that once you had a quick cry about it you would be fine and get over it. Maybe you’d even go join the beer pong table again. But first you had to get this cry out of the way.

Bucky didn’t want to get drunk out of his mind and be a moron with his friends. Not tonight and not really ever, he didn’t get the point of wanting to lose your senses just to forget the majority of the night the next morning. He never understood why they had these parties anyway. Sure the mission was a success but it was small and he wasn’t even on it. If Steve hadn’t dragged him out of his room he wouldn’t even be here. The parties lost their glamor a while back and the only reason he ever let Steve or Sam drag him to one was the chance to see you even if every interaction you had with him was short.

He noticed you almost immediately when he entered the room. You stayed close to Wanda’s side for the beginning of the night. He watched over Steve’s shoulder as you both played flip cup with Vision being your referee while he nodded and acted like he was paying attention to his friend. When she started getting a little too cozy with Vision Sam came by and whisked you away to go up against him in beer pong. He stopped watching you when Natasha came up and started talking to him and Steve. His eyes found you again though when Yelena started pulling her sister away claiming she wanted to do shots with you after this round. That’s when he noticed that playing against Sam wasn’t doing you any favors, you were swaying while you stood there chugging down your drink after he got another cup. After that Steve had managed to distract him enough that his eyes didn’t stray over to where you ended up throughout the night.

“You know you could just talk to her Buck, I hear she only bites a little.” Steve says to him with a wink before heading to bed.

Bucky’s attention unintentionally goes to you zoning out on the couch after Steve leaves. He starts to get nervous you’re about to topple over, because you’re leaning forward a bit too much and he doesn’t want you to faceplant into the table, but then you jump up with purpose and abandon your drink as you stumble your way over to Wanda. He continues to watch, unable to look away as the two of you talk before you start walking towards Sam. A smile crawls across his face when you bump into a chair and apologize to it while giving it a pat as if to console it. It falls though when he notices your smile falter while talking to the group over there.

What could Sam have possibly said to make your smile fall for that split second. He’s never wanted to hit his friend more than he does at this moment. Sure he’s only ever been introduced to you once or twice and the other times you’ve talked to him have been little side comments at these parties before you ran off with Wanda. And Bucky lived for those moments. He’s been admiring you from afar since that first introduction.

When you start to look around the room he wonders who you could be looking for and a little part of him hopes that it’s him. He notices the tears in your eyes and your breathing hitching thanks to the super soldier serum making his eyesight better. He watches as you head over to a chair in the corner and bury your head in your arms, your shoulders shaking from your crying. He decides that’s enough and grabs a cup of water before making his way over to you, not believing how any of his friends didn’t notice you were upset.

“Hey…you alright?”

The sudden sound of a voice causes you to jump and look up to find Bucky leaning over you. You’ve met him before but you’ve never really gotten to know him or anything. The two of you are almost never on missions together and when just one of you is gone the other tends to leave when whoever was just on one gets back. And he always tends to keep to himself when there’s just free time around the complex. But here he was leaning over you looking like an angel with a cup of water in his hand and a kind smile. You sniffle and his eyes seem to soften even more than they were.

“You should drink this. What’s wrong doll?”

“Nobody will watch Gnomeo and Juliet with me.” You all but wail and if you weren’t so drunk out of your mind, you’d be embarrassed for crying about this. “And I can’t find Peter who I know would.”

“I’ll watch it with you.” Your tears slow down and your breathing hitches at his words. You sniffle again before speaking.

“You will?”

“I have no idea what it is and you have to drink this cup of water first but yeah I will.” You nod enthusiastically before grabbing the cup from him and starting to chug it like your life depended on it. This causes you to breathe it in though and start coughing after inhaling it. “Easy there, not too fast.” His metal hand carefully caresses your back while his other takes the cup from you. “C’mon let’s go watch your thing that I’m assuming is a movie.” You just nod up at him eyes wide as you let him pull you up and lead you out of the room while wondering if it was possible to fall in love so fast.

Bucky takes you to his room because he’s not fully convinced you could tell him where your room is in this state. Your eyes keep darting from one thing to the next as you babble on about the movie he’s about to sit through for you. One of his arms stays wrapped around your waist to keep you stable on the way there making it so if you stumble into anything it’s just him. He sits you down on his bed before rummaging through his drawers to find you clothes to change into.

“Here you can change into these while I get you more water alright?” You just continue to stare up at him starstruck while you nod and watch him leave.

Bucky heads to the kitchen and begins his search for one of Sam’s giant water bottles that he fills up before he works out and never finishes. He fills one up all the way after rummaging around a few cabinets and finding one before heading back to his room. He knocks on the door not wanting to just barge in on you.

“Can I come in doll?”

“Yeah!”

“I’m gonna need you to keep drinking water while we watch the movie alright?” You nod again and take the bottle he holds out while he glances at your pile of clothes in front of his door immediately and tells himself to remember to fold them and put them on top of his dresser at some point tonight so you can find them tomorrow. He then notices that his top drawer is open and clothes are sticking out of it. He could’ve sworn he shut it when he was done. But then he notices his sweatpants he left out for you still lying on the bed and his eyes travel to your bare legs seeing you must’ve searched his drawer to find boxers. As he picks the pants up he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Too hot.” Is all you mumble as you climb back into his bed and get under his covers. He just nods and hands you the remote to his tv that he’s barely touched while he decides to just fold all the clothes now since he has to put his own pants away anyway. By the time he sits next to you on the bed on top of his blankets you already have the movie started and you’re sucking down the water like it’s the last thing you’ll ever drink. You don’t make it far into the movie before you lean your head on Bucky’s chest and fall asleep. Bucky leaves the movie on though and continues to watch it in between his moments of admiring you up close for the first time just in case you wake up and want to keep watching it.

When you wake up in the morning you’re expecting to be in Wanda’s room like you’re used to after one of the parties. But when you open your eyes you don’t recognize the room at all. And on top of that your head is resting on a clothed chest and you can feel the softness of the blanket on your bare legs. You’re about to start freaking out about it when your eyes land on the tv that has the loading screen for Gnomeo and Juliet displayed and what happened comes flooding back to you.

Your face heats up as you remember how Bucky just had to be the one to find you crying about watching a children's movie. Anyone else would’ve known to just bring up something else to get your mind focused on something else. But Bucky being the sweetheart you’ve always known him to be not only watched it with you but also gave you comfy clothes to sleep in, gave you the majority of his bed leaving him with just enough space he’s not falling off, and slept on top of the blankets probably so you didn’t get the wrong idea when you woke up.

His room is a lot neater than you expected it to be. There’s not even a sock on the floor and you remember how quick he was to refold the pants you didn’t wear. As you sit up and your eyes travel around the room you spot the bookshelf in the corner of the room with what looks like the most comfortable armchair ever next to it. You slowly get out of bed careful to not wake Bucky up and make your way over to it. The bookshelf is only about half full but that doesn’t stop you from browsing through his collection seeing a lot of Agatha Christie, Shakespeare, and Jane Austin. Just as you pick up the worn copy of The Hobbit that was left on the chair Bucky wakes up.

“What’re you doing doll?” Your heart flutters at the nickname but you ignore it and turn to face him while holding up the book.

“You know he made a sequel to this right? Because technically that’s what Lord of The Rings was before it became bigger than that. And this is clearly your favorite book but I don’t see the others over here.”

“There’s more?” You recognize the excitement in his eyes as soon as you look into them as he sits up.

“Yep! Technically it’s six books but everyone categorizes it as a trilogy because they normally come in three volumes. They follow Bilbo’s nephew Frodo and his journey. I have a big book that has all of them if you want to borrow it.”

“You’d let me?”

“Of course!” You smile at him as he approaches you. “Did you know they made them all into movies too?” “Sam’s mentioned The Hobbit being a movie once or twice but I’m still not sure how to work the tv completely.” He scratches the back of his neck and his cheeks have a pink tint to them as he admits it to you.

“I could show you how to work it. We could watch The Hobbit movies today too if you want and then the Lord of the Rings movies after you read the books.” You start to move to grab the remote before stopping to sheepishly look over your shoulder at him. “Y'know that is if you want to. I don’t want to just burst in and intrude into your life like this.”

“No doll go ahead and intrude away.”

“You know, they made some of those Agatha Christie books into movies too.” You both share a smile knowing that a friendship was going to blossom out of this. And after a few weeks of movie nights and introducing him to new books and movies and shows your friendship evolved into a relationship. And it was all thanks to one drunk night and Gnomeo and Juliet.

Bucky Taglist: @koressecretidentity @stevieintheimpala @unmagically @peachytea01 @the-chocoholic-writer @perksofbeingatrex @quokkatrash @vanillamaa @strawb3rrydr3ss @that-sarcastic-writer @spideyycents @dissectiontime @aiyanalevina @mooncaffeine @yoongisdumplingcheeks @sailormajinmoon @collywobbl @alina02 @toothhurtyam @the-lady-vanora @eliwinchester99

Marvel Taglist: @its-the-autism-innit-luv @milkiane @rorysreallyrandom @lieswithoutfairytales @sugarbutterbailey @1-800-ch3rry @neenieweenie @rocketxgirl @fluffy-bnny @bunnyweasley23

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #Bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic

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xleeleeboox · 2 years

Text

Hey guys feel free to literally overflow my inbox with requests. I came up with a list of quotes for a prompt list. Just pick a character that you want the request about and you can pick up to four numbers/quotes! If you have a special scenario in mind just say it, include if it’s fluffy, angsty, smutty, suggestive, or even crack, unless you want me to have free range. I’m ready ✨ also I had inspiration from A BUNCH of other finished prompt lists from all over the internet, so these are not all my own ideas disclaimer

~~~~~~~~

1. “Oh my god, I just kissed you”

2. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll get it”

3. “I will pick you up if you don’t____”

4. “Let me sleep”

5. “I few like I’m stuck between heaven and hell, and the middle grounds isn’t earth”

6. “Bathroom, now”

7. “It’s in gods hands now”

8. “Please watching ____ is not hard”

9. “Alright, how did we mess up today?”

10. “This is pure genius, I told you!”

11. “Are you crying, oh my god”

12. “I can’t believe they just said that”

13. “I can’t believe you just said that”

14. “I never knew it could be scary”

15. “That was so intimidating but so hot”

16. “I’d rather chew on a grenade”

17. “Okay, what did you forget?“

18. “I know that look, what’s wrong?”

19. “I got in trouble for passing this in class”

20. “Tell me about your day”

21. “Literally what”

22. “Wait, what did I do?”

23. “Wow… I’m speechless”

24. “Where are your shoes?”

25. “I won’t forget”

26. “Dance with me.” “We don’t have music.” “We don’t need music.”

27. “You’re home alone?”

28. “Maybe you should spend the night”

29. “It’s getting really annoying”

30. “You aren’t interested are you?”

31. “You’re constantly on my mind”

32. “Someone is grumpy”

33. “Are we seriously just friends?”

34. “You are so adorable I’m gonna be sick”

35. “The truth is, I don’t think anyone could treat you better than I can”

36. You had me in the first half, not gonna lie.”

37. “We need to talk.”

38. “You’re so clingy… I love it”

39. “How long have you been standing there?”

40. “I brought food!” “It’s homemade?” “Yep” “ick”

41. “I’m gonna need your help with a little situation here”

42. “Don’t touch me”

43. “Why is this so hard?”

44. “What are you doing awake?”

45. “You’re staring again” “shit”

46. “This is important” “and I’m not?”

47. “You smell really good”

48. “Where’s my underwear?”

49. “Look, I’m not smart, could you rephrase that please?”

50. “I can have my way with you right here right now if I wanted to”

51. “We deserved better”

52. “You deserve better”

53. “Did you just call me your s/o?”

54. “Just let me know when you want me to stop”

55. “You have to confess to them” “I literally can’t, every time I do, I panic or get interrupted”

56. “Ew”

57. “You thought I was joking when I said I love you?”

58. “Have you ever thought of me when… when you touch yourself?”

59. “You know… you are way out of my league”

60. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do”

61. “Fuck you and fuck your _____”

62. “I’ve never seen eyes as beautiful as yours”

63. *twirls hair and bats eyelashes*

64. “Be honest… are you crying over that book again?”

65. “I’m no doctor but this isn’t supposed to be this color”

66. “You’re gonna have to be quiet, my family is home”

67. “Are you drunk/high?” “No, absolutely not” “you’re doing a little wiggly dance and there’s no music, and you look like you’re more in love with your food than you are with me”

68. “You got me a sword??” “Uh yeah??”

69. “Who gave them fire?”

70. “We’re you the one that slipped that note into my locker?”

71. “What are we?” “What do you mean?” “What’s going on between us?”

72. “Did you take my towel”

73. “Is this supposed a replacement for me?”

74. “If you’re coming over, I’m only gonna let you in if you have _____”

75. “Where did all of your brain cells go?”

76. “I’m never going to get over this”

77. “You have plans without me? Since when?”

78. “I cannot wait to get into your bed”

79. “Is this illegal?” “…”

80. “Is that a… body?” “…” “is it?” “No”

81. “You have got to be one of the dumbest people in this whole town”

82. “Do you still love me”

83. “I’m going to hell”

84. “We’ll be fine” *like 20 minutes later* “DOES THIS LOOK FINE TO YOU”

85. “You know I’m yours, ever since I first saw you, I’ve been wrapped around your finger, before I even knew your name”

86. “Hey! Watch your step” “I can’t see remember”

87. “Where did that come from?”

88. “Where did you get this?”

89. “Are you jealous?”

90. “It could have been worse”

91. “I’m 100% fully in love with you”

92. “You’re such a nerd”

93. “God it’s hot in here”

94. “You’re a terrible influence” “but I could be the best older sibling anyone has had”

95. “Someone here is clearly smarter than the rest of us”

96. “I have no idea what you are talking about”

97. “Was that an apology?”

98. “This feels dirty” “because it is”

99. “Did you draw me”

100. “Fuck you” “when and where?”

101. “Are you touching yourself?”

102. “I’m gonna spend all day think about that now, thanks”

103. “Tell me what you want”

104. “You are so distracting”

~~~~~

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writing-wh0re · 3 years

Text

October 7th. Kinky Halloween Special Masterlist

Kink: Daddy

Au!Fred x Reader.

Words: 2,524.

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Sex, Female Performing Oral, Male Performing Oral, Dirty Talk, Daddy Dom Fred, Praise. Best-friends Dad (Age Gap)

*Nova is my own character.

The moment Nova had suggested that I tag along with her for the summer and stay at her dad’s lake house, I couldn’t refuse. I was so excited.

One, the lake house is in the prime location, bars are within walking distance, the pool is immaculate and the view was something else all together.

Two, Nova’s dad, Fred.

God Fred was the definition of Dilf.

The first time I noticed my school girl crush was Nova’s 21st birthday. Fred had booked out a private Yacht and invited most of the people from our classes. It was sweet and probably the happiest I have seen Nova. However, I spent most of the night at the top of the Yacht drinking and joking around with Fred, both of us wanting to escape the crowd. That night solidified my crush for the older man, especially the second his fingertips brushed my knee which caused my skin to erupt with goosebumps and my breath to catch in my throat. I could have sworn Fred’s eyes lingered on my cleavage a little too much that night but I’m sure it was the alcohol swirling through my veins.

“Ready?” Nova’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, her suitcase behind her.

“Definitely.” I confirm zipping my case and following Nova out of our dorm, excitement and nervous bubbling inside of me.

\\//

Nova pushes the large dark wood door open, the smell of cinnamon and apple filling the air, light chatter bouncing off the walls.

“I think my uncle is here.” Nova mumbles, leaving her suitcase on the ground and walking through the house. I follow her lead, ditching my suitcase and taking in the beautifully styled home.

“Hey Dad, uncle George.”

I almost faint on the spot, there’s Fred and a literal duplicate of Fred.

“Uh Dad you remember Y/n, George this is my best friend Y/n.” I smile weakly at the pair as George smiles at me.

“Good to see you again Y/n.” Fred smiles, I notice George side eye Fred quickly raising his eyebrows before taking a sip of his drink. Fred simply smirks, nodding softly, his eyes lingering on me before darting over to Nova. I frown my eyebrows together trying to understand what they are silently talking about, surely not me. I shake the thought from my head, of course two grown men haven't been talking about me, especially not my best friend's dad. Get it together Y/n.

“So, what do you have planned for this summer?” George asks, his eyes flicking between Nova and I.

“Definitely hitting the bars, soaking in the sun and maybe finding a man or two.” Nova winks as she hands me a glass of wine.

“A man?” Fred questions.

“Or two?” George questions both of them laughing at each other.

“It's summer, why not have a little fun?” The second the words leave my lips I feel a blush creep upon my face, Fred and George both chuckling in response.

“Maybe we should go have some summer fun Freddie.” George smirks causing Nova to gag slightly.

“Right, that's our cue to leave.” Nova mumbles quickly downing the rest of her glass and walking back inside the house.

“Uh.” The heat returns to my body as I get left alone with Fred and George. I leave my glass on the table in front of me and walk inside the house, once inside I turn back to take in Fred’s appearance one last time. My breath hitches in my throat and butterflies erupt inside of me as our eyes lock together. I hurriedly look away and rush through the house to get ready for the night with Nova.

Coincidence. Just a simple Coincidence.

\\//

Nova and I had been dancing for hours, the music thumped through my chest, the alcohol flowed through my veins and my mind kept wandering to Fred, curious as to what he is doing right now.

“Hey, this is Tom and we’re getting out of here.” Nova squeals excitedly, pulling a blonde guy behind her before I even have a chance to respond.

“Seriously?” I yell, my voice falling silent over the sound of the music. I follow behind the pair, hoping to catch Nova and ask if she is seriously leaving me in the club right now.

“Hey!”

Nova’s body disappears into a cab before she has the chance to hear me.

“Fuck.” I huff, the cool breeze hitting my exposed skin. Only a three minute walk back to the house, I tell myself. I quickly check the time, 11:45pm, Fred will definitely be asleep and won’t question Nova’s hodiny act.

The walk back was quick and almost claiming. The sound of the wind blowing in the trees, owls hooting and the crispy moon light shining along the streets.

The walk back to the house had definitely sobered me up, now fully aware of how loud my heels are against the pavement. I decide to slip my heels off before walking on the wooden deck, not wanting to disturb Fred. I search through my bag, trying to find the house key but coming up empty handed.

“Fuck you Nova.” I mumble, slightly lifting up the doormat with my foot in hopes of a spare key, but no luck. Right as I’m about to walk around the back and sleep on the deck chairs the door pulls open.

Fred and George both laugh and continue their conversation before their eyes land on me.

“Oh Y/n, hello again.” George smiles.

“Um, hey.” I smile back. My eyes quickly flick to Fred his toned chest on full display and loose grey sweatpants hanging on his hips.

“Everything okay? You’re missing Nova.” Fred asks, slight worry filling his voice.

“Yeah no, everything is fine, Nova is making her summer fun with Tom?” I question wondering if I should even be telling her father and uncle this.

The twins laugh at my question, both shaking their heads.

“Well I will see you later, nice meeting you y/n.” George smiles, “Enjoy your summer Freddie.” George’s eyes look me up and down before he walks past me, the sound of his car unlocking in the near distance.

“Excuse me.” I mumble pushing past Fred as he stands in the doorway, I quickly drop my shoes with the others at the door, wanting to rush away to my room.

“So why aren’t you out making your summer fun with a guy?”

I feel my mouth go dry at his question, how do I answer this without saying it’s because of you dumbass.

“The guy’s I typically go for aren’t hanging around at clubs.” Fred raises his eyebrow, his eyes flicking from my lips and back to my eyes.

“What kind of guys do you go for?”

Now's your chance, say it's him, if it goes badly act super drunk and blame it on that. I take a deep breath after listening to the internal battle with myself.

“Guys that choose to stay in with their brothers and drink.” The moment the sentence flows through the air, my cheeks heat up, both with nerves and regret.

Fred smirks, licking his lips before walking towards me. I back away from him slightly before my back hits the wall.

“Is that so? Darling, I'm old enough to be your father”

“That has never been an issue for me… daddy.”

Fred groans before locking his lips with mine. I moan into the kiss, the sweet taste of cinnamon whiskey on his tongue as our tongues fight for dominance. His hands roam my body, falling to the middle of my back and pulling me flush against his chest. My fingers lace in his hair, tugging on the strands.

“This is wrong.” I pant, pulling away from the kiss as our chests rise and fall.

“Say the word and I stop.” Fred’s eyes search mine for any hesitation before I close the gap between us. His hands fall to my thighs picking me up in one swift motion and slowly walking us to his bedroom. My red dress hikes up my thighs with every step closer to the room, my black lace panties on full display. I pull my lips away from Fred’s kissing down his neck before discovering his sweet spot. His fingers grip my ass tight, moans falling from his lips.

A surprised squeal escapes me as Fred drops me on his bed, his eyes lingering on my body. Before he has the chance to ask me I pull my dress from my skin, leaving me in just my panties, thankful that my dress didn’t require a bra.

“Jesus.” Fred steps back, taking in the sight of me half naked and under him, egar for him.

“Daddy please.” The nickname causes his eyes to roll back slightly, a low sigh passing his lips as he cages me in against the mattress, kissing my lips before trailing kisses down my neck towards my boobs. I arch my back causing my nipple to press against his tongue more, his teeth pulling at the hardening nub.

“Yes, daddy.”

Fred smirks, chuckling as the slight vibration rumbles against my skin.

“I’ve barely touched you babygirl, look at you, so needy and eager for me.”

“Only you.”

My words pull yet another chuckle from his lips. Fred’s fingertips trail along the waistband on my panties causing a shiver to run down my spine. He leans down over my body, his warm breath fanning against my neck.

“Get on your knees.” Within a second I am on my knees looking up at him. “Fuck, such a good girl.”

I softly nod in response, my hand palming his evident erection through his sweatpants. Fred hisses at the contact before ridding himself of the clothing.

A whimper escapes me at the sight of his hard cock. Longer and thicker than I had imagined but everything I need.

Without being asked I take his dick in my hand, pumping up and down as I lightly swirl my tongue around the head.

“Yes baby.” Fred’s fingers loop in my hair, holding it out of the way to ensure he gets the perfect view of his cock disappearing into my throat. I bob my head up and down his length, my tongue swirling and my cheeks hollowing out. Fred’s cock leaves my lips with a pop, he grabs his dick and slowly slides it up and down my tongue moaning at the sight.

“Fucking perfect.” My eyes roll back at the praise, arousal leaking down my thighs and my mind hoping this isn’t some twisted dream.

Fred pulls me up by my arms, his lips finding mine again in a hungry kiss. His fingertips brush against my clothed pussy before slipping past the fabric and rubbing my swollen clit. I hiss at the contact, Fred moans at the feeling of my wetness.

“Daddy’s girl likes sucking dick huh?”

“Makes her little pussy drip?”

“Does my princess touch herself to the thought of me?”

I meekly nod in response not wanting the pleasure to stop, however Fred stops his movements causing me to whimper.

“Daddy asked you a question darling, do you think of me when you cum?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl.” He presses a quick kiss to the side of my head before he pushes me back onto the bed, ripping the panties from my skin. His tongue presses flat against my clit as I sigh with pleasure and surprise.

“Daddy.”

Fred hums against my pussy, swirling his tongue in a figure eight motion as my fingers grip the bed sheets. Fred continues to lap at my cunt, savouring the taste before his hands find mine, lacing our fingers together.

“Fuck.” I moan as I look down at Fred, his eyes catching mine while swiping his tongue side to side.

“Yes, fuck, oh I’m close.” I regret saying the words the second Fred pulls away from me.

“No baby, you’re cumming on my cock.” Butterflies fill my stomach at his words, truly hoping this is really happening.

Fred lays down next to me on the bed, grabbing my hips and guiding me to straddle his waist. His hand falls behind my neck, our lips meet in a brief kiss before being broken by my moans. Fred slides inside of me, stretching my walls perfectly.

“So big daddy.” My fingernails drag down his chest earning a hiss from his lips. After a few seconds of adjusting to his size I rock my hips back and forth, keeping my hands placed on his chest for balance.

“Beautiful.” Blush fills my cheeks at his praise, his soft hands rubbing up and down my sides. I keep my rhythm, every now and again swirling my hips for a different sensation, one that pulls the most delicious moans from his lips. Fred’s hands grip my ass, spanking the supple skin as I cry out in pleasure.

“Is this what you like, baby? Taking control and fucking daddy?” I hum in response as my eyes flutter closed basking in the feeling of his cock hitting my g-spot. Fred’s hands move to my back, flipping us over as I gasp.

“Only I can make you feel this good.”

My lips part and my eyes squeeze shut at the new angle. Fred’s resting on his knees with my legs against his chest, ankles resting on his shoulders, his hands groping my boobs.

“Look at you squirming on my cock, ruining you for any other man.”

“God daddy yes.”

“You’re mine.”

“Only yours daddy.”

Fred grunts at my response, his pace picking up as he starts to rub fast circles on my clit.

“Yes!” I cry out, my pussy clenching around him. “Just like that.”

“You cum when I say.”

I huff, digging my nails into the comforter as I scream and cry out.

“Daddy please, please let me cum.”

Fred grunts, licking his lips.

“Mmm hold it for me.”

My eyes roll back as my back arches off the mattress.

“Daddy, please!”

I feel Fred’s cock twitch inside of me, a deep moan filling the air.

“Fucking cum for me Y/n.”

A shiver runs down my spine, my body tenses as Fred’s name passes my lips. My mind feels foggy and my vision blurs. Fred grips my legs, his hips faltering as his hot release fills me.

Fred pulls out of me, both of us sighing, our chests rising and falling, sweat glistening on our bodies.

“Thank you.” I blurt out, feeling tiredness wash over me.

“No need to thank me Darling.” He places a soft kiss to my lips as I feel my eyelids get heavier, not even bothering to move as sleep envelops me.

\\//

I wake up the next morning to the sun shining through the blinds. Instantly everything floods back from last night. I quickly lift up the bedsheets, my naked body confirming that it wasn’t just a dream.

“Morning.” Fred mumbles, his morning voice sending wetness straight to my pussy.

“Morning.” I whisper a goofy smile on my face. Fred pulls me into him, his nose brushing against mine before our lips meet in the middle.

“Hey dad, have you see- WHAT THE FUCK?”

\\//

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outerbankies · 3 years

Note

You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love

an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!

—

new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1

warnings: underage drinking

“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”

Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.

Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”

“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.

“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”

Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”

He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.

But even after all of that, he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.

The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.

Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”

“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”

“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”

“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”

“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”

Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.

“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”

Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You—uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”

“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“

Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”

“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.

“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.

Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”

“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”

You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.

The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”

Rafe glares at him.

“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.

“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”

“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.

“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”

He turns his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”

—

Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.

Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.

And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.

“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.

“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”

“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”

“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.

“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”

“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”

“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”

“When?”

“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”

“Thought I might what?”

“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.

“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.

Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—”

“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”

“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.

—

“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”

You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”

“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”

“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”

Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”

You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”

“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.

“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.

“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.

“Right, sorry,” you say.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”

You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”

He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”

You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”

—

“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.

“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.

He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.

Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.

And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.

You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.

But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.

“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.

All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.

Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”

—

Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.

“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”

“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.

“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.

He hands him a crisp hundred.

The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”

And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.

You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.

Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?

But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.

And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.

Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.

Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.

Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.

The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.

Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.

“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”

You look at him and his outstretched hand and smile, then look back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”

“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.

“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?

“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”

“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.

“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”

“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.

And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.

“I know I'm gonna miss you.”

—

@moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @pogueslandia @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23 @sodasback @rafeseggplant @cooper8224 @rafeyybabyy @lemur46 @cameronsrafe @theepoguelandia @judayyyw @irlpadfoot @synonymforlame @tinawhynot @mildkleptomaniac @ilymarkchan @sofiatheseconf @hockeyshmockey @supersouthy @coffeeandcrimeshows @emptyloverofmine @infinitleyethereal @nerdypartytrashpsychic @mrs-cameron @tcmhollnd @nicavass @sakikos @catonthesideoftheroad @jemimah-b99 @serrendipiity @depressinq @svechnibrock @julianakawaja @ctrlcherries @lostaurorax @wildflower98 @babygirl2022 @lieswithoutfairytales @painlesslies @messagesinthesky @orrsoared @destourtereaux @sammywilscn @tylernagle @anonymousobxfan @lilacsandwhiskey @raphaelcameron @mardema @princesspogue @alwaysclassyeagle @brittlehe-art @drewswrld

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whythinktoomuch · 3 years

Text

Andrea sighs. “I hate this part.”

“And what part would that be?” Kara spares a small glance for her, but continues to tug on her socks, her shoes, and anything else that she might need on her way out of Andrea’s apartment without a second thought. Again.

“The part where you make me sleep alone.”

Kara whips her head around. “… I’m sorry?”

“Nothing.”

Andrea regrets everything as she buries her head underneath her pillow. Maybe she can blame this sudden onset of weakness on her most recent trend of foregone sleep, or maybe even the very reason for said lack of sleep now standing at the foot of her soon-to-be half-emptied bed. But it certainly isn’t something that deserves any more elaboration, much less voiced.

Unfortunately though, Kara’s never been one to let something go. The rustle of clothing dies away, leading to a padding of steps which leads to the sagging of Andrea’s bed as Kara sits down beside her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Andrea repeats, her voice firm despite being muffled under her pillow. “Make sure to lock the door on your way out.”

“No, come on…” Kara’s tugging on Andrea’s arm, thumb rubbing gently into her skin. “Talk to me. Please? I’m right here.”

Groaning to herself, Andrea finally sits up, frown deeply set and disgruntled. “Where are you even going anyway?”

Kara takes a deep breath before answering, and Andrea hates how these are the kinds of things that refuse to escape her notice now. “I told you,” Kara says slowly. “I’m meeting a source downtown.”

“Right now? After midnight?” Andrea says with a scoff. “You don’t have a better, more business-friendly time—I don’t know—during the day to be meeting up with these people?”

“I have to go where the story takes me! And I also have to meet my sources on their own terms if I want to cultivate a lasting sense of trust and profess—”

“But for what article?” Andrea demands. “You’ve already met all your deadlines for this week. You wouldn’t be here”—she gestures aimlessly about her bed—“otherwise, so what else could you possibly be researching right now?”

“It’s…” Kara stumbles slightly, and Andrea wills her heart to harden into something that can never sink. “This is for a new story. One that I’m thinking about pitching. Soon.”

“Okay. What story?”

“I can’t tell you yet! It’s not ready,” Kara says, and Andrea just scoffs again. “Hey, seriously. What’s really bothering you? You never care about my work.”

“I’m your boss, Kara. It’s literally my job to care about your work.”

“Just tell me what’s actually bothering you, and I’ll fix it.”

Andrea rubs at her face. “I’d just… really like to know what it’s like to sleep next to my girlfriend for once…”

“Your girlfriend?” Kara echoes. “Who’s your girl—oh!” Her eyebrows nearly shoot up to her hairline. “Wait, oh…”

Groaning once more, now about ready to bury her entire body beneath her pillow if possible, Andrea just waves her hand. “Never mind, okay? Just go.”

“No, hey, hey, hey…” Kara tugs on Andrea’s wrist, refusing, per usual, to let an unwieldy moment die down on its own. “Girlfriend?”

“Forget I even said anything…” Andrea starts, but Kara seems quite unwilling to. In fact, she’s looking at Andrea in complete awe, and Andrea can’t help but straighten up at the attention. Maybe even pushing out her chest a bit just to make a point. “All right, fine, we can talk about this. But you should know right now, that I can’t date anyone who refuses to sleep with me.”

“Pfft, what do you mean? We literally sleep with each other all the time,” Kara protests, until Andrea shoots her a meaningful look—glare. “Oh… Right. You meant, just sleeping, sleeping. Um. Okay. Well, I guess that’s something we can try if you really want…”

Andrea rolls her eyes. “I don’t want you to try it just to appease me, Kara. I want you to want it too. For your own sake.”

“I do want it too! I just didn’t realize that it was something that you’d want. From me, especially.”

“Why the hell not?” Andrea says. “I’m sorry—was the past hour and a half not convincing enough for you?”

Kara flushes all over, sputtering, “No, what I meant was… I didn’t realize that you actually liked me like that?”

“Again. Was the past hour and—”

“I get your point,” Kara says, flapping her hands. “And okay. I, you know… like you too.”

“Oh, how promising,” Andrea mutters, but her nerves were undeniably starting to settle. The flow of conversation now comfortably in her favor.

“And I do want that too,” Kara continues, cracking a smile. “So… let’s do it. Let’s be girlfriends who, you know, sleep together.”

“Deal.” Andrea clears her throat, fidgeting with her sheets. “I imagine that it’ll have to start another night though, no?”

Kara rubs at the back of her neck. “I’m sorry. I just really have to meet this source tonight. It’s really important, I swear.”

“Fine,” Andrea says in a sigh. “It’s not like I don’t understand the need to put one’s career first.”

Kara pouts. She reaches out to cradle Andrea’s face, thumb tracing down her cheek, and Andrea’s not melting, she’s not melting, she’s not.

“I’ll come back,” Kara says at last. “No matter how long this meeting goes for, I promise to come straight back here and sleep with you.”

“Oh, you promise?” Andrea laughs, but there’s a serious glint to Kara’s eyes, twinkling in the way that they do in the strangest moments sometimes.

“Absolutely. I’ll be right back. And I’ll be right here for you, okay?”

Andrea lets out another laugh, ducking her head slightly. “Okay. I guess we’ll see how you do then.”

“Thank you,” Kara says, beaming. “But for now, I really do have to go. I’m actually kinda late now.”

“Then go. I ain’t keeping ya.”

Kara leans in, clearly in askance of a goodbye kiss, but when Andrea goes to cup her face, Kara resists just a tad. “Trust me,” she says. “You kiss me like that, and I’ll never make it out of here.”

“Want to test that little theory?” Andrea asks, her voice dropped into huskier territory, and Kara accordingly flushes pink cheek to cheek.

“Oh… boy…” Kara says in a hushed whisper. “I… er, I gotta go though, so…” She quickly shakes her head. “Yup, gotta go, gotta go. So sorry, but bye!” Pecking at Andrea’s cheek, Kara all but bolts out the door.

With a tiny unseen pout, Andrea sinks back into her bed, her moment of vulnerability already regretted with that aching part of her chest. But Kara promised to come back, and she seems the type to keep promises like that—the girlfriend type, that is.

Andrea’s final thought as she’s drifting off is a fleeting hope that wherever Kara’s rushing off to meet her source wouldn’t be anywhere near the sirens that have been going off. The last thing this would-be relationship needs is for Andrea’s would-be girlfriend to get stuck in traffic this late at night because of fire trucks or something.

Andrea wakes up to a sudden dip in her bed, coherent thoughts still slow to return as a column of warmth wraps around her middle from behind. She blinks blearily into the darkness. The sharp bite of smoke lingering in the air somehow only seems to get stronger the clearer her vision gets.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” comes a sleepy mumble close to her ear, and Andrea starts to chuckle, her surprise melting into blessed relief.

There’s a wry comment sitting on Andrea’s tongue as she glances over her shoulder, but the specifics of it all gets lost when she sees Supergirl curled up against her. “Whoa. W-wait…”

“Oh, m’s’rry…” Supergirl says softly, eyes still squeezed shut. “Forgot to ask… Can I call you ‘baby’ now, since we’re girlfriends who sleep together and stuff…?”

Andrea is reeling, as she takes in the sight. That is to say, the sight of National City’s darling and daring hero rapidly passing out in her bed, blonde hair strewn across Kara’s go-to pillow like a golden halo, her bulk scrunched up into a tiny ball of warmth pressed into Andrea’s side, cape splayed out without a care.

“You’re…” Andrea clears her throat, hopefully ridding herself of the dry stutter caught within. “Excuse me, you’re wearing boots in my bed.”

Supergirl lets out a small whine—there’s a literal, bona fide superhero whining all disgruntled in Andrea’s bed right now—and kicks out her feet. “But I’m so tired, maybe-baby.”

“Maybe-baby,” Andrea echoes, rolling her eyes, because okay, this is definitely Kara all right.

She manages to extricate herself from Kara’s embrace with surprising ease, considering, then manages to tug Supergirl’s boots off one by one with far less ease. But the sight that Andrea’s greeted with startles her into soft laughter.

“Hey. What’s so funny…”

“I like your socks,” Andrea says, slipping back under the sheets, eyes fluttering shut when Kara sidles right up against her once more. “You know, you weren’t wearing those when you left me.”

“Is it really leaving when I come right back?”

“Yes.”

Kara snorts, burying herself into Andrea’s hair with a sigh. “Mm, I like my socks too. Was a gift from Santa,” she says, and Andrea can almost feel Kara wiggling her toes. “I like the smilin’ fruits…”

“Yes, I figured you would.”

Kara lets out a mock scandalized gasp, “It’s s’pposed to be secret Santa, you know…”

“You know what else is supposed be a secret?” Andrea shoots back, arching an eyebrow that is of course lost on her half-asleep almost-girlfriend. But Kara seems to know, because she grins.

“Hm. We can talk about it in the morning, mm’kay?”

“Oh, we most certainly will,” Andrea says, turning on her side, allowing herself to be happily spooned. “Good night, Supergirl.”

“Yeah, yeah, good night, maybe-baby.”

#bloooooooop.#my words.#superrojas

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