#these are the back drafts - currently working on the front

[toorurs]

our love has always been 10 centimeters apart - aventurine

synopsis: the distance between the two of you is about to close, the distance will be gone, it only takes a few more inches, but he reminds himself that he can’t - he refrains. later on mere inches turn into vast kilometers, going beyond galaxies and planets. years later he finds you again and makes it up to you, closing the distance as he seals it with a kiss; or the two times the both of you were away from each other even though the only thing you’ve longed for was each other, and the one time where the two of you find your way back to one another again.

pairing: aventurine x reader (gn) | wordcount: 2.0k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, reader cries a bit (tiny bit), mentions of alcohol and “sex” (an idiom = get into one's pants) but no graphic mention of sex + they’re not drunk, kissing, making up and making out (one kiss), tba if i find more, proofreading is for losers (its 4am (cet) i'm just too lazy); oneshot

tags: @azullumi (i swear that grey block with spikes from mario literally looks like "alpha sigma boss. you guys agree right?? prove azul wrong.)

img credits: @/magnolia29 on x!

a/n: i started this draft at like 12 an and procrastinated for god knows how long but yeah!! hope this is okay for what sleep deprived me wrote lmfao

“you seriously still wear that thing?”

aventurine points at the wool scarfs you’re wearing, it hangs a bit loosely due to you not wrapping it around your neck enough.

“yeah, got a problem?” you tease, grinning as you look at him. “it’s the first thing i got from you when i was moved to this department.”

ah right. he remembers the day vividly. they said that a certain member has risen quite quickly in the past few months and will now be moved to his department: the strategic investment department.

on the first day of work, aventurine, like the thoughtful senior he is, came up to you and greeted you, offering you a tour around the building and introducing you to the staff and everyone who worked here. you agreed and followed him as he guided you around your new workplace.

the two of you got along quickly, exchanging laughters and telling each other jokes as the two of you were strolling around the building. he remembers gifting you an expensive scarf, one made out of the finest wool in the whole galaxy. you thanked him wholeheartedly and at that he couldn’t help but invite you out for a drink - like the mindful senior he is, of course.

drinking after work became a little habit for the two of you. sometimes the two of you were able to drag veritas or topaz along, but usually veritas denied the invitations, saying “he doesn’t want to mush up his brain due to the alcohol.” as for topaz she usually came along to look after the two of you, but today it seemed like there was an emergency regarding numby, which she had to rush to immediately. leaving you and aventurine alone.

which led you to your current situation, the two glasses of alcohol in front of aventurine are left untouched, everything that happens right now is done with a sober mind. he can’t put the alcohol to blame.

your hands are close, they're a mere 10 centimeters apart from his. it takes everything inside of him to not take your hand in his and smother it in kisses, but he refrains, he can't - he shouldn't even be thinking about something like this.

your soft lips lean forward to meet his, they're a mere 10 millimeters away from his. you continue to launch forward, he doesn't move away, he can't move - he's frozen. you assume he granted you permission to kiss him. your hand snakes towards his, loosely intertwining the tips of your fingers.

your lips ghost over his - the distance between the two of you is gone, it scares him. he fears he might not be able to return if he goes this way. 

aventurine can’t help but pull away from your tantalizing touch, it hurts him. but he’s scared.

he slips his fingers out of your grasp, lurching backwards, uncomfortably shifting on the big sofa and scooting back, to move away from you.

your eyes shoot open, clearly filled with confusion. your lips slightly part open and you tilt your head to the side, irritation is written all over your face.

"s-sorry." he apologizes quickly. "i don't think i'm made for this," he mutters. regret immediately overcoming him and you.

"ah, don't worry. i should be the one apologizing. i'm sorry. i shouldn't have just assumed your feelings. forgive me." you try to maintain a steady tone but your voice and expression betray you. your voice quivers - it breaks, it sounds like you're holding back tears that are about to spill at any given moment.

no, no , no this can't be. it's all his fault. he ruined everything once again, his gift was a mere misfortune, it only caused bad luck. 

your hand that was once connected with his slithered away from its previous position, this time you really were gone.

perhaps this is when aventurine realized that the both of you weren't just mere inches apart but the distance between the two of you went beyond planets and galaxies and thus could never be conquered.

the two of you were worlds apart.

it’s been a few years ever since he’s seen you. (there hasn’t been a single day where he hasn’t thought about you.) apparently someone caught wind of what happened between you and aventurine, of course they reported it right away. initially it was planned to fire you, for making a move on one of the ten stonehearts, especially as someone who stood below him. 

but aventurine convinced them not to do so, saying he’s also at fault and that they should just make you move departments, perhaps you’d learn from your mistakes. it was successful - he was beyond relieved. he didn’t show it, the only thing that was visible to them was a cunning smile. 

behind it, beneath the faux smile, he was clenching his teeth, biting the insides of his lips so hard that they began to bleed (he wishes that you were there to trace the outline of your lips over his once again, mending to his wounds - both, the one on his lips and the one in his heart.) his left hand was trembling behind his back as he awaited their judgment.

eventually you did get moved to another department and aventurine didn’t visit you, too caught up at work and business matters on other planets. 

(it’s a lie - he knows that himself, it’s just to avoid you. it’s for the better he thinks, better for the both of you to not meet. he fears that all the feelings he kept hidden inside his chest will return and turn his world upside down once again.)

one time he overheard some co-workers gossiping about “the person who got into mr. aventurines pants” getting sent onto a mission that’ll take several years. “what a pity that they won’t get to see him anymore.” a female voice giggles as the other voice hums in agreement and they walk away.

lies. all lies, it had to be. both that you “got into his pants” - hell it was a mere kiss that the two of you exchanged (not even a kiss because he shied away.) but it had to be a lie that you were sent away right? right? It’s just rumors, just some gossip that people need to pass their time, it can't be. 

of course, to his dismay, it had to be true. 

his luck was truly a misfortune.

spring has come, the remaining snow melts away and turns into puddles. the skies started to clear up and flowers that were once covered in snowflakes, hidden beneath the white blanket of snow, started to open up again, blooming in their full glory. 

but there was another flower he spotted, one that stood out from the others - you. after all this time, he’s finally found you. 

this time he doesn't falter.

he runs up to you. pulling you into a tight embrace as he hugs you. his nose is buried into the wool scarf you’re wearing, he took notice that it’s the same one he gifted you back then. your scent mixed with his still lingers on it.

“aventurine?!!” you shout, surprised to see him again after all those years. 

“you kept it..” he whispers fondly. huh? you’re confused, what is he talking about? “the scarf i mean.” he says without looking up, as if he knew what you were thinking without having to see what expression you wear or hear your voice and which sound you’ve uttered.

“of course, i did.” you say bitterly. “after all, it's the last and only thing i have left from you.” you whisper, a frown finds its way onto your face.

“no. that’s not true.” he protests, finally looking up. it's just like the last time he saw you, your eyebrow furrowed, your eyes telling him that you’re on the verge of crying - similar to when he rejected your advances. “you have me now.” the words barely above a whisper.

“oh aeons, dont, please. i beg of you.” aventurine is quick to put his gloved fingers on your eyes and rub them softly, collecting the tear drops that are about to run down your cheek. “you know i hate seeing you like this.” he whispers quietly as he removes his glove from his hand and rubs circles over your cold and reddened cheeks. 

“i missed you.” you hiccup in between your cries, aventurine continues to catch your tears, he won’t allow you to cry any more - especially because he’s the reason why you’re tearing up.

“pshh.” he tries to quiet you. “ive missed you too, probably more than you know.” as an attempt to reassure you.

“i’m here now, i’ll stay with you, i’ll follow you wherever you go.” he leans forward, this time he’s the one initiating the kiss and you gladly return it. his chapped lips meet yours, kissing you messily. there’s some biting and teeth clashing but he couldn’t care less, neither do you - after all this is what you’ve been waiting for.

there's no distance, no fronts, no walls to separate the two of you. he's never felt this kind of love - your love. he hasn't been held this lovingly for an eternity, this is the first time he actually somehow feels human.

boundaries is a word foreign to the two of you, they've never been there - they never will be there because from the beginning on aventurines heart has only sought after you.

it used to terrify him, the way his heart always seemed to jump out of his rib cage upon seeing you. the louder and faster the pumping got the closer you leaned in - just like back then.

but exactly because of that or rather because of you he discovered a new part of himself, diving into an ocean of emotions that were anchored to the bottom of the water, anticipating the daz they'll be discovered and treasured in one's heart. those feelings were unknown to him until he met you.

"what should i say once we meet again?", "what should i do to prove that i'm ready now and don't fear to love or be loved anymore?", "how can i prove my love to you?"

those questions have haunted him in his restless nights, the ones that made him wake up from his deep slumber where he dreamt of you, forehead glistening with cold beads of sweat, gripping his bed sheets tightly. (all of his thoughts and dreams are filled with you.)

the beauty of this world has always been hidden beneath a window curtain, he was oblivious - blind, just how breathtaking the world can truly be.

but you came along, pulling the curtains away, revealing the outside world to him. you stepped into his life and shattered the glass that kept him confined behind the window.

you confessed your unyielding love for him. you love him - you've always done and you always will - you imagined a future which he was a part of. where the vibrant colors of the sun not only greeted you but also him as he laid next to you, side by side. watching as the rising sun kisses your skin with its tendrils of sunshine. 

(he'd follow the rays of sunshine and kiss the same spots they marked, he'd leave a trail of kisses along your body.)

how can he ever repay you for what you've done for him?

a mere thank you wouldn't suffice - not in a million years.

if you were to ask him if he'd give you the sun, the moon, the stars or the whole sky - he would.

if you were to ask him if he'd get on his knees for you - he would, no questions asked. be it when he prays to you, pleas leaving his lips and dripping off his tongue or when he'd kneel down on one of his knees to tie your shoes or propose to you - he would.

if you were to ask him if he'd stay by your side all night or rather all life long - he would. he'd be your light that'd guide you even though the flame went extinct, he'd be your flesh you'd nibble on, he'd be your blood you live off.

he wouldn't hesitate for a single moment, he'd give you everything you yearn and long for in a single heartbeat.

after all, that's the least he can do for you.

@azullumi here extra paragraph again hhihihihuuh anyway when's the stoner!chuuya x stoner!reader fic like where??? also azul i love you a lot. you deserve the best - you deserve the world. i hope you get accepted into your dream uni, get everything you've worked hard for (u deserve it, you're a person full of determination) and yeah convince ur teacher to extend the deadline!!

e/n: it's 4am rn im sooooo tired but yeah here!

© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.

[vanya-evergreen]

THANK YOU FOR 100 NOTES ON HOW TO REMEMBER.💖💖

I am over come with joy by how much people have been enjoying it! I was working on the next part when I noticed haha!

So in celebration I give you a small look into the next chapter 🥳

*it might change a bit in the final draft!*

“Welcome the 9 pm GBC News, we are currently following batman and robin while they pursue-” Click

You were hanging upside down on your coach, clicking through the local news channels trying to find the best view of the chase. Your laptop was discarded besides you. It’s open to an article about Dick Grayson ‘soaring through’ the annual charity ball on the chandler when he first was adopted into the Wayne family. There were multiple other browsers open, all on the Wayne Family and their lucrative businesses and charities, along with their scandals too.

You said you would do your research.

Your attention was taken away from this ‘research’ as a new alert about Batman and Robin chasing some nameless villain, who had kidnapped some poor boy, on founders island came up. No new station could find a good angle, you were annoyed.

“Damn you!” you toss the remote to the other side of the coach, quickly you flip yourself around and get off of the coach. You mumble about how they do it on purpose, they were trying to make you read their shit article. You had to wait for social media to do its thing of supplying you with clips of your favorite heroes (well not absolute favorites). Your apartment was nothing to overlook, always seems to have been updated without you knowing. It always had the latest tech, or trendiest look. You have been rich for 7 years now and still can't seem under it.

You walk over to the floor to ceiling windows, looking down you see people walking home or to a club, taxis and cars driving in opposite directions. Slowly the news faded to the back of your mind.

Nights in Gotham were always busy, especially near Old Gotham. It was rich with history and culture, and also money too. When you first woke up in this world you wanted to visit every place possible. You went to museums, office buildings, the GCDP nearby, and shops you had never even heard of. You used to stand out on the corner of the street watching the luxury cars pass by, while your ‘Assistant’, Val Miller, carried bags from the toy store you frequented, or the candy stores you couldn’t help but indulge in. Yo had never really had a childhood, but looking back you weren't as grown as you thought. You looked up at the neighboring building, the neon lights danced in your eyes. There was one that always caught your eye.

You went into that office building, or what you know as Wayne tower, once. You were dressed like a typical kid or preteen, you wouldn’t stop looking at all the expansive interior. The front desk workers thought it was the funniest thing that a kid was excited to be there. They gave you a small tour of the base floor level and let you answer some calls. It was great for you. You were just a kid when you came here, and even now you are just a kid. Everything was new and shiny to you.

This place is a far cry from your home near the east end of gotham. There was a high rate of villain bases and criminal activity in your area. While it wasn’t the safest environment for you as a child, it is what you knew. It’s where you learned to survive, how to live. So you tried your best to protect your small place of peace, your shabby second floor apartment. Full of splitters waiting to happen and ready to cause a concussion at any moment, it was far from ideal, but it had running water, gas, and occasional heat. You lived with your mother, she was a brilliant flash of light in the darkest corner of Gotham, but she wasn't alway there for you. While she wasn't the perfect mother, she did what she could with what she had for the both of you.

[melontoyo]

Selection of drafts for something I'm working on rn 🔷✨🧿🌊

[ssahotchnerr]

public displays of affection - aaron hotchner x reader

the aaron take on the derek/penelope workplace seminar (episode of reference: 9x12)

cw; bau!reader, established relationship, suggestiveness, small allusions to sex, fluff <3, bau family banter, aaron being mortified😭, references to the episode wc; 1.4k

"penny," you shut one of your files, placing it in your desktop organizer. "you're creating a draft."

"this is bad. oh so very very bad." she stammered, continuing to pace back and forth, "i'm just mentally preparing myself to be humiliated in front of the entire unit. for the second time, may i add. god, who blabbed this time?

"what did you even do?" spencer chimed in, his head lifting from his current read.

"i don't know." she exclaimed, an exasperated breath leaving her. "nothing out of the ordinary, so that means anything is possible. you," she pointed at morgan, who casually was making his way over to the rest of you. "we're in big trouble."

"this could be totally unrelated." jj reassured her. you agreed, giving penelope a nod and a hopeful smile. "there was no footnote on what this meeting consisted of."

"well, there was no footnote last time. and to this day, i still get asked what flarpy blunderguff means." she huffed, crossing her arms and turning towards derek. "i love you my hunk of a man, but this. this is a nightmare."

as two began rolling around, the bullpen filled in anticipation for the seminar, a light hum in the room as conversations were exchanged back and forth in waiting.

in addition, a presence soon stilled beside you. one always familiar, but surprising under the current circumstances.

"what are you doing here?" you looked up to find aaron's gentle eyes. he took a seat on the edge of your desk, just behind your chair.

meetings like these - usually below aaron's pay grade. he hadn't needed to attend the last, infamous meeting for instance, HR meetings were normally things he had prior knowledge of, or simply not worth his valuable time as unit chief.

"i got the email as well." aaron's hand found the back of your neck, his fingers comfortably kneading into your always-tense muscles. every so often, his hand would brush to your shoulder, and then back again.

"oh no," penelope slapped onto derek's arm, the smack covered up by slim buzz within the vicinity. "what did we do?"

"looks like we're about to find out." dave stated, his eyes following the woman who had just entered the bullpen, moving to the front.

the notorious HR lady of the bureau, nancy, sauntered over to the large presentation screen set before the clusters of desks. not wasting a second to get down to business, she turned toward the crowd of eager agents.

"thank you all for your attendance and time, this shouldn't take too long." she started, poised and head held high.

penelope took a deep breath.

"this afternoon's presentation," nancy clicked a button on her remote, displaying the title page. "public displays of affection."

oh no.

aaron's hand, which had continued to smooth out the stiffness in your neck, halted immediately.

"as you all- most are well and should be aware, keeping conduct professional in the workplace is a must to prevent disruptions within the environment. displays of affection - examples upcoming - can cause extreme feelings of uncomfortableness amongst your colleagues, and can be distracting nonetheless. all of which, creates a...."

just as last time, she clicked her remote. and adjacent to penelope and derek's presentation, in big letters across the top:

"hostile work environment."

derek immediately snorted under his breath, inviting others to openly laugh as well. despite the urge to shoot daggers at him, you were utterly incapable of pulling your attention away from the front.

it wasn't a top secret ordeal - everyone could infer the pair this presentation was centered around, and be correct.

"and so," nancy exhaled a breath, her eyes darting in your and aaron's shared direction for a smidge second, causing the heat to grow in your face and body. "i urge everyone to refrain from the following,"

similar to yours, aaron's face burned, comparable in color to his tie. he let out a nearly inaudible, nervous cough from above you.

"sitting on one's lap, while working on caseloads - not appropriate."

more laughter rippled through the division.

"oh god." you mumbled under your breath, uncomfortably crossing a leg over the other as your palm covered the bottom half of your face.

contrary to the present belief, aaron was a stickler on pda.

for the first few months of your relationship, he hadn't dared to touch your arm, back, anything in order to maintain such affection within the field; it was reserved for closed doors at home only. he loved you, but he wanted to uphold his reputable professional nature.

but as time moved forward and your relationship progressed, he hadn't gotten sloppy, per se, but more relaxed or lenient was a better way to put it.

some displays were accidental by habit. if he wanted to give you a quick peck, depending on the situation and setting, he would. seated beside each other, he would lovingly squeeze your thigh under the table, if you needed the encouragement or if you made him proud in some regard. if he were feeling frisky one day - sure he would do something, just to rile you up for later, to each of your benefit. so on and so forth.

and if he was initiating affection, you took that as the all-clear to do the same. in variation, of course.

so more often than not, it was in private. just not... always. and the lock on aaron's office door often came in handy for that.

"prolonged kisses in the bullpen, elevator, not appropriate."

once. you were caught once in a (very) heated kiss in the elevator.

as you and aaron cowered in embarrassment, both dave and morgan looked far too amused for their own good. the rest of the team - raised, entertained eyebrows, tossing glances to one another while trying to constrain their laughter.

nancy swallowed, as if she needed strength to deliver the next point, "grabbing one's behind when going up the stairs, not appropriate."

another mortified cough exited aaron.

she went on, giving more examples of affection aaron and you were completely guilty of. and if just one singular time wasn't enough, she went-forth on the explanation that such displays can cause a barrier within the workplace.

when you thought it would never cease, nancy finally delivered her ending statement, "save it for home people, thank you."

and with that, as well as the screen darkening, everyone disbanded, low murmurs and chuckles filling the room as each went about their usual routine.

you looked up at aaron in absolute horror, whose face was currently in his hand. but even that didn't hide the blush brewing within his face, his ears flushed wildly as well.

you reached up, grabbing his wrist to pry his hand away.

"nuh uh uh," derek grinned as he wiggled his index finger at the two of you, imitating nancy to a tee. "not appropriate."

"you hush." you got to your feet, allowing you to remove his hand more easily. you cautiously prolonged your hold, brushing your thumb across his knuckles before letting it drop. "aaron?"

his brown eyes found yours, full of embarrassment. "that was..."

"humiliating?"

he nodded, his head accelerating in speed with each nod, "yeah. that's the term i would use."

"oh you poor dears." penelope breathed out, the one compassionate member of the team.

"damn." emily chuckled.

derek cackled again, clearly not ready to let this go. honestly, he probably never would. "thought we didn't notice when you pulled the blinds in the office, did ya?"

aaron gave him a pointed glare, putting a very quick end to the conversation. just as the rest, the team carried on with their remaining work for the day - you and aaron remaining frozen in place.

but surprisingly enough, a laugh did escape him, shaking through his chest. "guess i have to tone it down a little, huh?"

"oh thank god," you blurted out and exhaled in relief, a small smile forming on your lips. "i thought this would cause an avoidance arrangement or something." you teased - partially.

"of course not. some reservation, maybe, but not avoidance." aaron laughed quietly again, a sigh escaping him.

"that was bad, wasn't it?" a slightly pinched expression took form on your face, your cheeks tinting once more.

"it wasn't... good." aaron admitted with some hesitation, but his brown eyes still glowed despite the lines of troublesome. his hand found yours - after scanning that no one was paying attention to the two of you - giving it a squeeze. "but hey, out of problems to have, i'd take showing my love for you any day."

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤

How it started :)

Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’

Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’

They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Neil. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.

They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it  when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’ 

* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]

Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.

Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody

In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.

In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.

Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.

In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Neil and Rob which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’ but both Neil and Rob were ‘so lovely and very generous with their time’ and they were showing it to them and in the intermission Neil said ‘I wish Terry could have seen this.’ (see here :))

Differences between the musical and the book

The ending of the musical is a bit different, they were worried about it but Neil said, ‘I totally understand, the ending of the TV series is different, because I had something that was book-shaped and I needed to make it TV-shaped. And you had something that was book-shaped and you needed to make it stage-shaped.’

It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there. 

Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.

The Future?

What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.

There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.

Videos

Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))

Sizzle Reel 6min

Anathema singing The Perfect Place

Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound

Shadwell and Newt

Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀

Links

Webpage

Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)

How to support?

Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.

[invvuu]

LIPS TO EYES AND VICE VERSA — SIM JAEYUN

SUMMARY : sim jake sucks at being your tutor but he makes up for it by being your boyfriend. PAIRING : boyfriend!jake x gn!reader GENRE : established relationship, fluff / 1.6k words WARNINGS : jake is flirty, reader loses their mind because of jake ( there is a theme here if you couldn’t tell ) not proofread

﹙ 📑 ﹚ AUTHOR’S NOTE — why is writing author notes harder than the actual fics themselves,,, but anyways i guess i can just mention that i started writing this last night and then finished it while i was in online class as some sort of tmi (no cus why did i edit this draft five times already just to change the author’s note)

“MY EYES ARE UP HERE,” you say blankly — or rather, in an attempt to appear blankly as you look at Jake, your boyfriend and current tutor for the time being.

He had his chin sitting on top of his palm, fingers resting and occasionally tapping against the skin of his cheek. Jake had a couple rings adorning his fingers, all in silver except for the matching ring he bought for the both of you as a gift to ensure his commitment.

His hair was slicked back partly, slightly giving way for you to see his forehead. It also gave you a much clearer view of his eyes, hiding behind the clear lenses of the glasses he usually wears when reading or studying.

His eyes were a common sight considering the fact that he was your boyfriend and you see him almost everyday, however the only reason why you were bothered by them was because they didn’t focus on your eyes, but rather on your lips as you talked.

This was one of his flirty antics at work, the kind of antics you’ve gotten used to a long time ago but can’t help but still be affected by it.

“I know,” Jake responds back, attitude completely the same as it was in the beginning of your rant. Shortly after you notice the corners of his lips curving upwards into smirk, appearing to showcase that he knew exactly what he was doing.

And you were not surprised.

A sigh escapes your lips, “Jake, you’re supposed to be helping me with the lesson.” You spew out while raising an eyebrow at him, crossing both arms together in a direct manner. “Are you going to help me study or are you just going to keep messing around?”

He chuckles amusingly, grin not faltering.

“Messing around? I’m just admiring you, babe. You do know that you’re beautiful, right?”

Jake’s gaze starts to slowly trail from your lips towards your eyes, seeing the expression displayed on your facial features. “Besides, you were going off topic by ranting about Professor Kim and the Math exam.” He tilts his head, still appearing to be flirting with you.

“Well — yeah, and you’re supposed to be helping me pass the exam right now because I don’t want to fail,” you insist, attempting to get Jake back on track in acting as your tutor.

You then see him switch his focus onto the semi messy written notes, opened and sprawled across the table in front of you. “Huh,” he lets out, “You seem alright doing it by yourself though.”

Crap, he was getting to you. The way he spoke to you in a soft yet attractive tone rendered you flustered, and the way he looked like currently was definitely not helping your mental state at all.

With further inspection of his overall appearance, you can see he had his sleeves rolled up until it reached right below his elbow. This simple insight made you admire how evident his veins were on his hand, clearly seen due to his dress shirt’s sleeves not covering them.

He was, without a doubt, making you short circuit. And you absolutely hated that he was doing nothing but only the bare minimum.

“I still need your help either way.” Your tongue moves on its own immediately, mind trying to keep your thoughts at bay about him. You lay your hand on top of the written notes, sliding them towards Jake so he could read them properly.

“Oh, I was supposed to be your tutor or something?” He asks nonchalantly, brows raising up as he fixes his posture on his seat.

In response you roll your eyes and scoff, expression becoming a bit more irritated than it was in the beginning.

“So you just agreed to do this without even listening to me properly when I asked you earlier?” You inquire back, voice surprisingly sounding harsher as you continue looking at him.

Another set of chuckles blew out of Jake’s mouth. “No need to be so angry,” He then leans forward again, tilting his head another time, “I really am sorry though, but I was only doing my job as your boyfriend.”

His words sent shivers down your spine one after the other. It was annoying really, how much his voice had this much of an impact on you. His sultry and deep tone that he always used when speaking to you added another factor of why you were attracted to him in the first place.

From how he apologized, you could easily surmise that he wasn’t truly sorry. But the part where he mentioned that he was just being your boyfriend immediately gave you all of the reasons to forgive him.

You sigh, giving the attempt in ignoring your heart from fluttering another chance. Sim Jaeyun, Sim Jake, Jaeyun, Jake, Jakey — or whatever name he goes by, he truly knew his way to get to you no matter the occasion or if he had changed his persona.

At this point you were already losing your calm demeanor the more you interacted with Jake. Honestly, if it was him who drew the other half of your heart, you’d keep it against your chest without a single question.

He made you want to do impulsive actions, he made you want to embarrass yourself, and he made you want to become a fool. These thoughts were things that you wouldn’t dare to say out loud, mainly because you knew how stupid you would look like in doing so. You couldn’t help but wonder pitifully in your mind.

What was this man doing to you? You’re both dating now, so why does it feel like you were back to hopelessly crushing on him like before?

After all of these questions, you were sure that your mind was going to go haywire if he ever decided to graze his hand against yours.

“Babe,” Jake calls out, catching your attention as he waves a hand in front of your face, “Am I really that much of an eye candy to you?” He asks teasingly, eyes still looking into yours as he watches you flinch slightly at the sudden movement.

You then feel a tap on the tip of your nose, seeing a soft smile adorning your boyfriend’s features, “You’re making it harder for me to help you study if you keep acting this cute.”

As your heartbeat intensifies from his words, you quickly realize what had happened: you were staring at Jake and you weren’t aware of it.

In this point of the current situation, there was no mistake that you were an actual fool in disguise as a human. “Oh — uh, what were you saying?” You ask in a rather flustered manner as you place a hand at the nape of your neck, rubbing it gently the moment it touches it.

Jake grabs the pen from the table’s surface into his hand and clicks it a few times before answering, “I was admiring the view and it seems like you enjoyed yours too.” He cheekily prompts while giving out a small wink towards your direction.

Embarrassment quickly shoots through your mind at full speed, making you receive the desire to hide yourself from him further. “I was looking behind you,” you mutter, trying to create a valid excuse as your fingers begin fiddling with the edges of the papers sprawled across the table.

“You were looking at books about Shakespearean plays?” He stifles, turning his body to glance at the bookshelf to confirm his question. “Last time you told me that Shakespeare sucked, didn’t know you had a change of heart,” Jake shrugs sarcastically, the corners of his lips tugging themselves into a small smirk.

You frown slightly, letting go of the papers and allowing your hand to rest on the table. “I didn’t say he sucked, I said that reading and analyzing his works sucked,” you explain exasperatedly.

Jake can’t help but supply laughter at your words — the way you quickly tried to cover up what you were actually doing made him find you cuter than usual. With the intent of making the situation seem more entertaining, he points the pen at your face, “Then what about the books made you stop talking?”

“I just remembered about my assignment for History.”

“Really? History?”

You nod eagerly — a bit too eagerly for the matter. You tried your best to remedy the situation at hand but the seeping thought of Jake already knowing the truth was pretty much turning into reality.

“Yeah, I have to — um, read a chapter from Midsummer’s Night Dream and analyze it.”

“But I thought you were supposed to be reading Macbeth?”

The amount of counter statements your boyfriend kept saying were only making you more embarrassed. Embarrassed because at this point, you were sure that he knew exactly what you were doing a few moments ago.

“Just tell me the truth,” Jake prompts, “You were looking at me, it was very obvious.”

This was beyond what you were expecting for this tutoring session — actually, was this even a tutoring session in the first place? It was more like a stupid moment of you going feral over a man that you have been dating for almost a year now.

Sim Jaeyun was definitely a bad choice to have as your tutor.

“I have a challenge for you.” He puts his hands together on the table, as well as leaning back away from you to straighten his posture, “I’ll kiss you every time I catch you gawking at me.”

Hearing his idea makes you click your tongue subconsciously, because you knew that it would’ve make your life so much easier if this entire session didn’t happen, nor if you asked Jake to be your tutor in the first place.

© INVVUU 2024

[horrorartsworld]

𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹

gamer boyfriend vox/f!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+ beware!!, oral (m receiving) , praise + dirty talk, hair pulling, manhandling?, face fucking

a/n: this has been in my drafts since i started writing 😭😭 i’m so glad i finally got around to it, hope my little voxie luvs enjoy!!

You huff out of boredom as you sat behind your overlord boyfriend, Vox, while he tapped and fingered away at his keyboard in front of him.

One of his giant monitors flashed with different multicolored graphics of a recent video game that had dropped this week that seemed to take up all of his time. His eyes never leaving the sight of it and to be quite frank it was making you rather jealous of not being the center of attention for once.

“Voxie..i’m bored,” You sigh shifting in your little rolly chair behind him, the back of his flat screened face starting to irritate you as it was the only thing you saw of you boyfriend anymore.

Vox doesn’t even flinch when you talk to him, let alone even acknowledging the fact you were trying to. His fingers still steadily tapping away and occasionally shifting his mouse.

You took it upon yourself to get up from where you were seated and stood next to him lightly shaking his shoulder, “Baby?”, you now pout putting on a bit of a whine to your voice for theatrics.

“What’s up doll?” He shifts his gaze to you for a split second before it turns to the screen once more.

Your brows furrow not seeing his eyes on you like you wanted them to, “I’m bored..play with me,” you say lightly squeezing his shoulder with a hint of want dancing around in your voice with a certain arousal that was currently building between your thighs, causing you to squeeze them in hopes to emphasize the urgency in your need for his attention.

“I’ll play with you in a second sweet thing let me just finish…right there..” He trails off a bit more husky then you’d like, making you fidget with your skirt at how just that simple act effected you, but you weren’t just gonna give up and wait another minute that would turn into hours for him to get off. Oh no it was time you took this into your own hands.

You crawl under his desk as quietly as you can, sitting on your knees in the space between his legs that were already spread. You hands beginning to trail up his thighs causing him to jolt at the sudden unexpected contact.

“Fuck..what’re you doing down there?” His breath catches in his throat, his cock jumping a little in excitement at the sight of you on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your pretty eyelashes.

You couldn’t help the smile pulling at your lips as he visibly was getting hard, “I’m just playing sir..”

Vox knowing damn well what you were doing.

“Doll…” He tries to warn authoritatively which only failed when he saw you making quick work of his belt and involuntarily lifting his hips when you started to pull down his dress pants along with his boxers.

His length free and throbbing with need as precum pools at the slit making your mouth water at the sight.

Vox then gets in position, not giving a single fuck about the game anymore, claws tangling themselves in your hair as his breathing becomes more heavy and ragged. Trying with everything in his power to keep his composure, but you working him up like this made him feel like he was on the brink of coming undone, especially with how slowly you were going with your feathery touches and small wet kisses up his legs.

Till finally you start giving his cock some attention with little kitten licks over the slit and the main vein wrapping around his length before completely letting his tip go into the warmth of your mouth.

“Stop fuckin’ teasing me before I shove you down on it myself..” Vox growls, pushing your head a little down onto his cock earning a gag from you.

Pulling off you give him the meanest stink eye that makes him chuckle, then you continue at your work giving a nice harsh suck before taking it completely in your mouth once more.

“Atta girl…use that pretty mouth of yours around my cock..” He then pushed your head down once more, this time letting him so you could take him deeper down your throat.

Humming once it fills your throat completely, the vibrations making Vox absolutely stir crazy causing his tv head to buffer. Though his hand still guides your head down, bobbing it till your nose brushes against his skin, so deep that it had you grasping for his thighs to control your breathing.

“Mmm…fuck doll..all this for my attention..you’re so fucking cute…” He then feels you lick up his shaft before you’re swallowing around it, almost gagging once more when he starts thrusting upward into your mouth.

Which only lead to him thrusting up more faster and with much force, burying his cock deep inside your throat, getting lost in the pleasure as your gasps were silenced with his thick cock.

"That's it... Choke on it with that sweet tight throat of yours..fuck you’re so good.." he pants heavily with his voice coming out gruff.

As if his thrusts couldn’t get any harder, his cock is sliding in and out of your throat, unable to resist the feeling any longer. The sound of electric crackling loudly in the air as he starts to lose control over his power getting closer to his orgasm.

His grip gets tighter with his claws scratching against your scalp when he begins to loose his steady rhythm.

“Shit…Shit! I’m close doll…” Vox groans his head falling back against his chair as his hips suddenly begin bucking wildly.

One of your hands taking a moment to rub at his balls letting your saliva coat them while it slid down your chin and the corners of your mouth.

You then manage to pull off of him taking the moment to get a good breath in, making him look down at you in curiosity. “What’re you doing?”

“Beg for it..” You smirk up at him, thinking you had the upper hand since he was practically putty in your hands.

“What did you just say to me?” His eyes flickering from stunned to ‘you really wanna do this’

“You heard me.”

In one quick movement he grabs your hair again and tugs you up so he can come face to face with you, an almost malicious smirk on his face. He mumbles against your lips, asking you to repeat yourself again.

"Be-" before you can finish your sentence Vox is pushing you back down to sit on your heels. He growls pulling your mouth back down onto his leaking cock, making you moan with the feeling of him back in your mouth again, slurping up any precum that escaped his slit in those last few minutes.

"You wanna be a little brat?" He groans as he holds your head down on his dick, his hips bucking wildly once more with a stutter. “I’ll fucking treat you like one…”

His grip on your heading almost brusing as he babbles out curses.

“G-gonna cum in this slutty mouth baby..” He then growls once more when he finally releases his hot sticky load down your throat.

Vox’s chest heaves, watching with heavy eyes as you gulp down every last drop and pull his cock out of your mouth.

A soft moan escaping your lips when you clean him up, kissing his tip before sticking your tongue out. His hand wrapping around your chin inspecting it seeing how widely you smiled while he did.

“Mmm..such a pretty girl you are..c’mere..” He coos, tucking his length back into his pants before he pulls you up into his lap. Giving you a loving yet deep kiss, tasting himself on your lips as he did.

“Now will you pay attention to me Voxie..” She says all pouty playing with the ends of his bow tie.

Vox chuckles before he speaks with a smirk, “Shit doll, I might not just to get this type of treatment from you..”

You playfully hit his chest with a huff though you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

He nuzzles his big head into your neck giving it a kiss.

“Oh sweet girl you haven’t seen terrible yet..”

[finntheehumaneater]

from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao

“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”

hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.

(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)

TW: throwing up

Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.

He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.

“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.

And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—

Meow!

Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”

The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.

“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.

Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.

Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.

Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he  could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.

Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.

Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)

And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.

He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.

"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”

Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"

Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.

“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"

Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair. 

“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.

She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.

Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer. 

Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.

He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.

Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.

"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”

Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter. 

She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.

"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe. 

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.

“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.

He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.

As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.

Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?” 

Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.

"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.

“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”

“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”

“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.

Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on. 

“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”

Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore. 

“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”

Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”

“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”

Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.

The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.

The poor thing lived a very hard life. 

“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.

“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”

Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.

Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”

“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”

Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”

Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.

He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.

“You’re early.”

Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”

“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”

“M’always nice.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.

Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck. 

Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning. 

There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything. 

“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“But how much?”

“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Debatable.”

Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.

“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.

Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.

(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369

[honeykaes]

a renter's deal

pairing: renter!kaveh x afab!reader II 2.2k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, cunnilingus, fingering, reader had a previous crush on kaveh, unambiguous if kaveh knew, reader is a landlord, unedited

synopsis: your old college-friend (and crush) Kaveh hadn’t paid rent yet. Just as you draft an email to inform him of the consequences, you hear a knock at the door wish a kaveh desperate to pay you back in other ways.

Cicadas loud chirping echoing from outside as your a/c continuously blast to avoid the hot temperatures of the summer from creeping into your apartment complex. It was the end of the month as the next loomed over in a couple of days. As the landlord, this was one of your busiest times. From working on paperwork moving people out of apartments to finalizing paperwork and credit scores to move people into the apartment, you had your work cut out for you—especially when it came to residents paying their dues for their apartments.

A fan blew past you, causing your body  to shiver as you shake your head trying to focus again on the laptop in front of you. An excel sheet on the screen greeted you back, tracking everyone’s payments. Apartment 125, Tighnari, paid in full. So did apartment 243, Aether and Lumine,  before they moved out.

As you scrolled down, you noticed only a few people had not paid you for rent yet despite today being the last day of the month—including your old college friend, Kaveh.

You and Kaveh were once friends in college before losing contact after graduating. He was always very popular and friendly, a heart of gold that always managed to get hurt by one situation or another. He was now a pretty-well known architect trying to start his own firm. 

You helped him through his breakups, his tests—his ups and downs, as he did the same for you. You wanted to reconnect when you first worked with him, moving in to his complex but things weren’t the same. The two of you aren’t the same 18, 19 year olds staying up late and going to a midnight movie showing before an exam like you used to—you both were in your late twenties, different responsibilities and interests pulling you.

And that scared you, so you gave him space.

Since the economy had slowed and businesses and organizations were interesting in building more projects anymore, Kaveh suffered immensely, scrapping anything he could to try to pay rent at the last minute to you. You felt bad but you didn’t want to pry either. 

You let out a sigh, clicking on your emails as you began to draft. Since he was late on payment, a meeting needed to be scheduled and fees processed to strategize a plan. You didn’t want to evict the poor man; or anyone for that matter.

Just as you finished drafting the email, you turned your head hearing a knock at the door. Placing your laptop on your coffee table and rising from the couch, you expected a resident to inform you about something breaking or not working. Your lips parted in shock to see Kaveh at the door. 

Kaveh seemed completely disheveled, long blond ombre hair, a mess unlike its usually tidy self. His clothes were wrinkled and unfastened as if he had just woken up and immediately ran here. He leans along the wall near your door, chest heaving loudly as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Kaveh?! Are you alright?!” you stammered out. Kaveh puts a finger out to signal to give him a second before he finally catches his breath.

“N-No. I’m so sorry I’m late on rent,” he groaned. “I am working with this school to create a playground but they won’t be able to pay me until next week. I’m a bit short with rent with my current funds.”

Your lips curled downwards before lifting your head to to nurse the headache threatening to form from the stress of the situation.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been late, Kaveh. I can’t grant you a grace period. I really need that money in full,” you murmured. Kaveh turned to face you, scarlet eyes misty in desperation. Your heart withered seeing him in this state, but you feared bugging would put you on a tight spot with your boss.

“Please (Y/n)! You got to understand, I really tried this time. I can give you what I have and give you the remaining next week! Then I’ll be good to go for next month,” Kaveh yelled out. 

“Kaveh, let’s continue this inside, okay? I’ll get you a glass of water or some tea to calm your nerves,” you beckoned, as your own anxiety began to creep in your stomach, you open your door beckoning Kaveh to come inside without a potential audience watching the two of you.

As he nervously entered, stifly sitting himself at the couch as you leave to enter your adjacent kitchen.

“I am only short 500 out of the 1500 dollars for rent and utilities. I can surely give that to you next week,” Kaveh called out as you prepare some glasses of water for you two. You sigh once more, leaning yourself against the fridge trying to figure out what to say without hurting your old friend’s feelings anymore.

“Kaveh, technically it wouldn’t be 500 but 1000. 100 for the late fee and 400 because this is the second time, along with the 500. I don’t make these policies, my bosses do,” you replied solemnly, guilt beginning to eat at you.

“Then what can I do to prevent the late fees from occurring!” he asked.

In college, whenever he was in a bad situation, to make him feel better you always started off with a ridiculous joke to catch him off guard before giving some sound advice with a smile. Oftentimes, he’d be smiling back, hopeful and taking your feedback and lighthearted jokes for the better.

Grabbing the glasses of water, you walked back into the living room placing the waters on the coffee table and closing your laptop.

“I don’t know, fuck me or something,” you idly murmured out before chuckling. Just as you were about to give him actual advice, Kaveh fell to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your legs. You gasped, flustered,  body shifting in embarrassment feeling his close contact.

“Kaveh! What are you doing! It was a joke! Y’know like I used to do in college!” you stammered out. Kaveh lifted his head up, eyebrows slightly furrowed in determination.

“Well, I’m not! I wouldn’t mind it at all. If this makes those pesky late fees go away, I’d be more than happy to do this and more!” Kaveh replied. You tried forming words from your quivering lips but your mind seemed to be malfunctioning, feeling his lips beginning to trail along your thighs, placing soft kisses along the skin.

“...Please (Y/n). For old times sake?” he whispered. 

Your heart tugged remembering the big crush you had on him before and the drunken kisses you shared with him as you attending parties together leaving you longing for more—the memories were flooding you like a tidal wave.

“...Okay, Kaveh…”

With a small smile gracing his sun-kissed face, Kaveh hands trailed up as his fingers hook on their shorts and the waistband of your underwear and gilded them down. He leaned his face in, puffs of his hot breath causing your body to shiver from the sensation as your clit began throbbing in anticipation.

His face tilts closer, darting his tongue out as he trailed a long swipe between your folds. The muscles curled up to brush against your clit, jolts of pleasure rooting through you from the sudden touch. He swirled along the bud of nerves, hands squeezing at your thighs. Your hands reached over to his hair, playing with the soft curls and losing yourself to pleasure.

He flicked his tongue along the nub, feeling your hips beginning to rock along his face. A low groan emitted from you as you ground yourself against him, his lips circling around your clit before beginning to suck. He continued to switch from sucking to rapidly flicking and circling his tongue on your clit while his hand crept up to squeeze your ass so he could keep up with your movements.

As he continued, one hand eventually left the globe letting two of his fingers sink into your dribbling cunt, coated with your arousal and his saliva. He pumped them deliberately slowly, your legs shaking from his delicate touch, wanting more.

“Kaveh,” you whimpered out, hearing him slurp continuously as your slick graced his mouth. He nuzzled his face deeper into your cunt, as his fingers pumped inside your pulsating walls, curling and massaging themselves to get you closer to your high.

Shutting your eyes, your hands traveled to your chest and squeezed it tightly as your voice began to rise, feeling Kaveh’s tongue press harder against the button. You throw your head back, as your high finally reached you. Kaveh struggled to keep up with your movements as he continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, nursing your high before it fell down. 

With slight jitters, Kaveh finally leaned away, lower mouth completely coated in your slick. His tongue was parted out, strings of your arousal still connecting the muscle with your cunt. Your tired eyes stared down in embarrassment, cheeks warm in shame as Kaveh wipes his mouth in content.

You could see the bulge poking out from his pants.

“W-Well! You’ve done your part! So—”

You're interrupted by Kaveh rising from his knees on the floor and connecting his lips with your own in a passionate kiss. You can’t help but moan, feeling his tongue, stained in your juices, roam inside your own mouth as he pulled you closer. He momentarily broke the kiss, both of you trying to catch your breaths, lips hovering by your own.

“I want to ensure that you don’t go back on your word though. So please, let me ensure your pleasure…” Kaveh breathlessly begged, claiming your lips once more. His hands wandered to your waist as pinned you against the wall—paintings knocking roughly from the sudden movement. 

Breaking the kiss once more, he zipped his pants down, revealing his throbbing erection. His cock was flushed, shivering as he took a hold of it as precum budded at its tip, dripping down to the rest of his length. He pumped it a few times with a shaky moan erupting from his lips before using another hand to slightly light your leg up near his small waist.

Your lips trembled as the tip of his cock spread past your folds trying to find your entrance, gathering up the abundant slick drooling from you. As Kaveh lined himself up, he placed his lips by your ear and with a low groan, sank himself inside of you. 

He grunted loudly when he finally bottomed out, cock nestled deep inside of you. He pecked at your neck before snapping his hips back, thrusting himself inside of you. The paintings hit the wall rowdily to the pace of his thrusts. 

“I hope you’re enjoying my end of the d-deal…” Kaveh grunted out, pressing his lips against your ear so you could hear all of his little noises. You moaned in response as Kaveh reached over to press tight circles along your overstimulated clit. 

“Y-You made me so sensitive,” you admitted, as you chirped, feeling Kaveh shifting his angle pistoning inside of you so he was not hitting that spot he desperately wanted to find.

“T-That’s the point. I want to make you cum so hard. I know you can…you're so close aren’t you, eshgham,” he whispered, nibbling on your neck. Kaveh could feel your walls beginning to cave in and spasm, signaling your end was close. 

“K-Kav—” Kaveh captured your lips as you reached your second climax, your body shivering pinned against him. Hips sloppily faltered as he furrowed his eyebrows to try to control his own temptations and guide you down your high once more.

As glossy lips part from your own, Kaveh slipped his cock out, pumping it rapidly before a desperate groan emitted from his lips before biting down to try to be quieter. Ropes of cum shot from his tip, smearing themselves on your thighs. 

He watched as his cum glided down the curves of your wobbling leg. He let your other leg down before supported your weight on your body with a small smile.

“Easy there…you’re probably very overstimulated. Let’s get you all cleaned up in your bathroom. Where is that,” he asked. You tiredly pointed into the direction of your bedroom as he guided you toward it. As he opened the door, he gently set you down on the rim of the porcelain bathtub before reaching to grab a rag on your towel rack.

“I’m sorry for going a little overboard. I just wanted to ensure I had done my part. Keeping my end of the deal is important to me,” he murmured, wetting the towel up with some soap before wiping it down to clean your legs. As he wiped over your cunt, you whined at the burn of overstimulation getting to you.

“...So, please, please please don’t go back on your word, (Y/n),” he begged, with large  pleading eyes. You sighed once more, but to his surprise it was a lot lighter in tone than earlier.

“...You don’t have to pay rent at all for this month, okay? I’ll cover it…just focus on getting the money for the next month,” you whispered. Kaveh lit up as a grin curled on his face. He leaned in placing a tender kiss on your forehead as your cheeks fought against a blush.

“...I missed you Kaveh…” you admitted. Kaveh brushed part of your hair away.

“I missed you too.”

[stsgluver]

synopsis. gojo satoru always wins.

wc. 880

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, spoilers for 236, possible spelling mistakes I have not proofread this (do I ever?)

a/n. currently clearing out all my old wips. i've already written this in a different version I think but idc bc if i write about him coming home enough times he will eventually do it. my next few works are probs going to be my rich boy!gojo drafts

there was a brief moment when the world stilled. the air was squeezed from your lungs as everything around you slowly began to spin and you weren’t sure the last time you had slept – had it been that long that the hallucinations were finally starting to kick in?

“oh my god.” those were the only words you could utter in your state of disbelief. you couldn’t close your eyes: you couldn’t risk him disappearing. if you were brave enough, you’d reach out to trace the new scars carved into his porcelain skin.

“you can’t say that, you know how my ego is,” gojo looked as gorgeous as ever, arm raised as he leant against the doorframe of his apartment. the same apartment you’d set up camp in nineteen days ago and had only left when yuuji brought you some food. you’d lost too much to process and you were a shell of the person gojo had kissed goodbye to before he left for shibuya. there were deep purple bags under your eyes, your hair was loosely tied back in a messy bun that probably hadn’t been properly washed or brushed in several days and your clothes were probably just gojo’s – you’d been desperate for some sense of familiarity. 

he looked like he hadn’t just been sealed away in another realm. the only evidence of a struggle were his new scars that seemed to decorate every inch of available skin, beyond that he looked excited to be alive, his fitted clothes clinging to him. his cursed energy was terrifyingly immense and you knew him well enough to know he was still riding off of a high that came with fighting for him. 

you were scared to ask who had been the opponent – never would the world’s strongest sorcerer be injured and not cause equal amounts of harm in return. he had a title to uphold after all, something to prove.

“not even a hello?” he shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he tsked you. he was so casual in his mannerisms, playing it all off as though he hadn’t spent what felt like an eternity counting down the seconds so that he could see you again. “you can’t have forgotten me that quickly.” he was practically whining now, desperate for the love and warmth you gave him but not daring to cross the threshold and smother you. 

you weren’t a sorcerer and though you understood some of his world, there was so much more that you didn’t. gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared that one day it would be too overwhelming for you and you’d leave him like everyone else had. 

so he did what he did best: masked his insecurities with a sarcastic humour that held no bite: “don’t tell me there’s another man in the house.”

you smiled, and blinked, and you were suddenly here again; in the moment with him and not a thousand miles away wondering what the hell he’d been through. a lone tear slipped down your cheek and gojo ached to wipe it away.

“are you… are you real?” your voice was still shaky and if it wasn’t for the complete silence, you doubted that he would’ve been able to hear you. 

but he did, and then his arm is up against the doorframe again and he was gesturing to his physique as he complimented himself, “super powerful, mega rich and dashingly handsome? i know how perfect i may seem but i’m very real.” he winked and suddenly it was like you remembered that you have free will, practically jumping into his arms.

gojo wasn’t phased as he tucked you tightly into his body, his cursed technique completely dropped for the first time in what felt like forever. his body breathed a sigh of relief as his muscles ached.

“you’re such a jackass,” you lifted up your head to rest against his chest, eyes shining with tears that didn't fall.

gojo nodded slowly, brushing back the loose strands of your hair as he stared at you adoringly, “you love me.”

“mhmm,” you hummed, taking a step back from his longing arms to look up at him through your lashes. “y’know,” you traced a finger across the material on his chest, “you could make it up to me by closing your eyes.” his breath hitched ever so slightly under your touch. you leant in so that your lips almost touched his ear, “i need to kick my boytoy out. things could get kinda awkward if you two saw each other.”

it would be easier to list the things gojo wouldn’t do for you. he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, even going as far as to hold a hand over them. “how pretty is he on a scale of 1-10?”

there was a pause before you responded, as you took in every inch of the man that stood before you. a god in a mortal’s body. one that lived and breathed and worshipped you. “he’s gorgeous,” you whispered, breathless simply from his existence alone. and then he’s smiling and laughing and picking you up, spinning you in a circle and telling you how much he loves you and for a few brief seconds he’s just satoru and you’re just his.

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Approval

Pairing(s): Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the time comes for Kate to finally meet your dad, she is a nervous wreck.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None? Just a whole lot of fluff! Not proofread.

Authors Note: The beginning of this had been sitting in my drafts collecting dust so I finally decided to make something out of it. I don’t think it’s my best work but I hope you guys like it!

After finishing the last few touch ups to your makeup you made your way out of the bathroom, happy and content with how your outfit looked.

The scent of your body wash still lingered on your skin as you were freshly showered, your hair was styled to perfection, and you were clad in one of your favorite dresses that you know your girlfriend loves just as much.

Tonight was a very special night for you and Kate. The two of you were attending an event, but not just any event.

Kate would finally be meeting your dad for the first time.

She’s met your mom and brother as well as a few cousins on occasion since the two of you have been dating for almost half a year. However, she’s never had the chance to be introduced to your dad.

Between Kate’s avenger duties and your dad’s job, schedules haven’t always lined up.

Your dad had always been a very busy person since you were young with him being the CEO of a well-known company. Him having to leave for a week or two sometimes for business trips wasn’t unusual as his job keeps him on his toes.

So unfortunately he’s not always home, but when given the opportunity to take time off to be with his family, he does.

Like tonight.

Your family was having their annual holiday party and your dad was coming home to attend, so it’s safe to say Kate would be taking this very seriously.

Hence, why when you walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, you were met with a very frustrated looking Kate standing in front of the mirror hanging on the closet door.

She had a frown on her face as she held a tie in each hand, alternating holding one tie up to her collar, then the other.

You watched her from the doorway for a few moments. During that time, she switched back and forth between ties probably about eight times before you noticed her growing more upset, so you decided to step in.

Walking behind her, you placed your hands on her shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze. She didn’t seem phased by your presence, seemingly still stuck in her head with her current predicament.

“What’s got you looking so upset, hm?” you asked as you gazed at her face through the reflection in the mirror. “You’ve been standing here with a frown on your face since I came out of the bathroom, and who knows how long you’ve been here before that.”

Kate let out a big sigh and met your eyes in the mirror as she gestured to one of the ties, “This one seems like it would be too much,” she held up the other option, “And this one is just plain and simple, but it might be the safer option.”

She stared into the mirror once more, “I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying too hard, but I also don’t want to seem boring.” she said.

Your expression softened as you turned your head to look at her side profile, “Which one do you like with this suit more?”

Kate tilted her head as she contemplated one last time before holding up her final choice, “This one.”

Taking the chosen piece of fabric from her hand, you spun her around to face you and draped the tie around her neck as you began to tie it.

“You don’t think I should go with the other one? What if I just go without it? Or would that make me look too informal?” she rambled, hesitancy evident in her voice.

You looked up to meet her eyes with a comforting smile, “I think you should wear whatever you want to wear.” you said, focusing back on the task at hand. “I also don’t think he’s going to judge you based off of the pattern on your tie, or if you choose not to wear one at all.”

Kate looked at you with masked surprise, but you’ve been with her long enough to be able to see right through her and read her like a book.

“I know you’ve been acting as if meeting him isn’t making you anxious, but I know you.” you said. “If I didn’t know before, I definitely know now since I just witnessed you almost pop a forehead vein over a tie.” you giggled and you heard your girlfriend chuckle too.

“You can relax, Kate, you’re gonna be okay. He’s not a monster.”

Your girlfriend sighed and lightly laughed, “It’s just—”, she started but stopped herself. You gave her a moment to collect her thoughts.

“Getting his approval is really important to me because he’s your dad, you know? He’s really important to you.” she explained and you nodded, letting her know that you were listening.

“So I wanna show him that I’m fit to be dating his daughter and if my outfit will help me make a good first impression, I want to wear a nice one.”

Your heart nearly bursted at her confession and your eyes lifted to meet hers in a loving gaze.

“Oh, Katie,” The pure sincerity on her face was overwhelming enough to make you fall for the tall brunette standing in front of you all over again.

“I love you, so he automatically has no choice but to like you because we both know you don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.”

You tightened the accessory around her neck and smoothed down her suit jacket. Your hand came up to caress the side of her face with your thumb, “I’ll be there the whole time. It’ll be okay.”

Kate reached to hold your hand on her cheek in hers and turned to kiss your palm. “Why do you always make everything so much easier?”

“It’s what I do.” you giggled, and she smiled before leaning in to press her lips to yours in a tender kiss.

Neither of you wanted to pull away until you had to, so you finally separated once air became a necessity instead of a suggestion.

Kate rested her forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled softly in return, “Ready to go now?”

She took a deep breath before nodding her head confidently, “Let’s go,”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When you arrived the party was in full swing. It was loud with chattering people and an occasional laugh while they sipped on drinks.

You’d already run into your brother and a few other family members who stopped to give you a hug and say hi, greeting Kate in the process too.

It wasn’t very long before you saw your mom making her way over to you with a contagious smile plastered on her face that you easily returned.

“Y/n, you finally made it!” once she was within arms reach she pulled you into a tight hug. “You look so beautiful, honey.” she said as she kissed the crown of your head.

Hugging her back, you giggled, “Thanks, mom. You look amazing too, and the place looks great.”

“Well thank you, darling. And I see you brought Kate!”

She pulled back to address your girlfriend who held out her hand with a kind smile at the mention of her name.

“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Y/l/n.” Kate said.

Your mom glanced down at her outstretched hand and playfully rolled her eyes, “Oh please, Kate, none of that formal stuff you know that come here.”

Kate was pulled into the same tight embrace you’d been pulled into just moments prior, and she happily reciprocated.

You smiled as you watched two of the most important people in your life easily fall into conversation.

But as you scanned the vicinity of the venue you realized there was one person you had yet to see since you got here.

“Hey, mom? Is dad here?” you wondered.

Hearing the question she went to look around for him as well, but there was no need to when you saw the man in question appear behind your mom with a glass in hand.

“Did someone ask for me?” he said with a grin on his face.

Kate broke into a small smile seeing your face light up. The view calming the nerves she was suddenly feeling just a little bit.

“Dad, hey!” you greeted cheerfully.

He held his arms open in invitation and you gladly moved into them to give him a hug. “Hey, sweetheart. How have you been?”

You stepped back to return to your girlfriend’s side. You’d noticed how nervous she became at the presence of your father.

“I’ve missed you, but I’ve been okay and I have someone I’d like you to meet.” you answered and watched his eyes flicker over to the girl beside you. “Dad, this is my girlfriend Kate, and Kate, this is my dad.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me so much about you it feels like I already know you.” Kate chuckled and held out her hand for him to shake, but she almost took it back now noticing how clammy it was.

She didn’t want your dad to have to shake her sweaty hand.

You watched as his lips pulled into a tight smile, “Likewise”, he glanced down at her hand, but never made a move to take it. “I’ve heard a lot about you too. ” he said.

Kate was clearly very nervous at this point, judging by the way she dropped her hand and you watched her shakily wipe them on her pants. But she kept a smile on face and tried to keep the conversation flowing.

“I-I hope she’s told you all good things?”

Your dad gave a nod of his head as he eyed her down, “The best.”

Silence fell and as you looked between the two it was almost painful how awkward the atmosphere seemed to be now.

Your dad reached out to brush off the shoulder of her jacket, and deciding to help girlfriend you took her hand and squeezed it, “How about we all—”

“Let me talk to you for a second, Kate.” your dad interrupted you to speak to her.

“Dad—”

“It’s okay, Y/n.” Kate looked at you with a reassuring eyes.

You searched them for hesitancy, but she was determined to get him to like her. Yes, your dad did look a little intimidating, but she wasn’t going to be scared away so easily. You nodded and let go of her hand to watch her follow your dad out of sight.

“I’m sure he just wants to get to know her. You know how parents are, honey.” your mom reassured and you nodded.

She was probably right.

Kate followed your dad through the crowd and shoved her hands in her pockets when she was led outside onto the balcony, sheltering them from the chilly air.

“Listen, Mr. Y/l/n, I know it’s late that I’m just now meeting you after being with Y/n for half a year, but I can assure you I would never hurt her. She means too much to me for me to do that.”

Your dad just blinked at her for a moment before speaking, “Kate, do you know that Y/n’s my only daughter?”

The archer nodded her head and he took that as the go-ahead to continue.

“Her entire life her protection has been mine and my wife’s responsibility, and our responsibility only.

Kate didn’t exactly know where this was going, so she just opted to listen.

“And for the first time in her life we have to hand that responsibility over to someone else.” he said before taking a couple steps closer to the tall brunette.

“I know what kind of work you do and I know what all can happen, so I need to know that I’m able trust you, Kate.”

She should’ve known that this would come up. Her job isn’t usual by any means and she knows there are risks. Of course your dad would be skeptical about you dating someone like her.

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Y/l/n. I can promise you that what happens out in the field stays there, we take precautions to make that happen. And you should know that I’d never let anything happen to your daughter. I just want to make her happy because she makes me so happy that it’s the least I could do for her. I love Y/n, so I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe.”

This was the first time she had seen your dad look at her with any expression that wasn’t a glare since meeting him, and it lifted all the weights off of her shoulders.

He held out his hand with a soft smile, “Welcome to the family, Kate. I look forward to seeing you more often. Love the tie by the way.”

You were standing at the bar, waiting on a drink when Kate finally spotted you again. She made her way over to you and placed her hand on the small of your back gently to not startle you.

Recognizing the touch instantly you turned to face her, “Hey, I got you your favorite.” you said just as the bartender placed the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh thank you, my love.” she looked at you gratefully and took a sip of her drink. It was much needed after the stress of tonight.

“How did it go? Is everything okay? He didn’t threaten you did he?”

Kate chuckled at the ramble of questions before shaking her head, “No, he didn’t threaten me. And it went amazing. Everything is perfectly fine.”

Her words made you smile happily and you leaned in to give her a quick loving kiss, pulling away with a giggle and teasing look when she went to lean in for another.

“Told you it would be.”

~ end ~

[wildemaven]

strangers : climax | dave york

pairing: dave york x fireader word count: 6307 content warning: 18+ blog; established relationship, workaholic Dave, Soft Dave, miscommunication, implied/ alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn't know this), Dave's phone deserves its own warning, mention of food and alcohol consumption, a moment in a dressing room where reader inspects her reflection/self image judgments, smut (oral f receiving, fingering, semi public sex, kissing after oral, public affection, some praise if you squint), angst and sad feels, somewhat jealous Dave in a kind of joking manner, lots of tears, reader is mentioned wearing a dress and jeans- but zero description features, no age given but it's implied she's at least over 30, no y/n, established relationship, this is au- no Carol or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: it's finally here!!! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out into the world. I was working through lots of writing blocks, kids, travel, and sickness. But it's finally here!!!! This one is a doozy in so many ways but I'm so excited for it!! I'm so grateful for everyone who takes the time to read, share, comment and like each chapter of this series. I'm sad it's almost over!!

series masterlist | previous | next

It’s almost sadistic. Taunting every single fiber of your being as each chord of the melody, so perfectly orchestrated, looms over the hotel bar. 

Your body betrays you. So easily giving in to the song's familiarity as each word reverberates through your chest. Flashes of Dave dressed in black, spinning you in front of your closest family and friends drowned out the urge to ask for the song to be skipped. 

The liveliness of the crowd pouring into the dimly lit space helps block out the music. Your fingers swirl around the condensation slowly settling around your drink that sits untouched on the mahogany bar top. Your mind sifting through the day's events leading up to this moment, where you’re sitting alone, annoyance raging in your veins, in a dress you're starting to regret buying. 

*

Lunch was relaxed and pleasant. The oceanfront views of the small cafe were something straight out of a movie. The weather was warm enough to enjoy the patio dining, a subtle breeze cutting through periodically. The ocean swells breaking masked the bustle of beach goers and passing cars. It was everything you had wanted to experience in this beautiful city.

Dave had been fully present since the intimate moment you both shared back at the hotel. More than he had been the entire trip thus far. Keeping you close to him, his hands never leaving you once stepping out of the room. As if to silently say I’m all here with you and I love you. 

You relished in the closeness of him. Internally screaming with increasing avidity at his electrifying advances all afternoon. 

Pulling your chair closer to where he sat so his free hand could nestle between your thighs. Too focused on twirling the pasta around your fork between discussing the most current events Dave had read in the morning paper while waiting for you to return from your walk. 

Growing and falling Stocks. Government scandals that could trickle down and affect parts of his job. National affairs of all levels that jumped out to him. All things you hadn’t really kept up with until meeting Dave, were now things you looked forward to listening to him talk about and giving your input with your own perspective. 

It's when Dave starts discussing something about sports or sports related that throws you off balance. Not necessarily so much in what he’s saying, but in what he’s doing when he’s saying it. 

“So if they draft him this year, he’ll be a starting rookie…” Dave says as he shifts forward in his chair to adjust his position, hand slightly shifting where it still rests between your legs, his pinky sliding up the crotch seam of your denim with an ample amount of pressure. 

“I’ve got money on him this season…” Your mind is too cloudy to even focus on what he’s saying. 

An instant jolt of arousal splinters across your body, you use your napkin to hopefully muffle the moan you nearly choke on. Oh! It’s deliberate, Dave’s expression collected and unphased as he carries on, continuing to drag his digit up and down the thick layer of fabric. 

“You okay, Honey?” He smirks, applying a little more weight behind his touch, before directing his attention to the server passing by the table and signaling for the check.

“Mmhmm— y-yeah! I’m fine. Great!” Your voice pitches at an unusual tone, frantically nodding in response as you wring the napkin between your fingers trying to not succumb to the pleasure currently building in your core. 

It’s a tragic feeling when his hand abandons the heat of your thighs. His focus now is on inspecting the bill, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and tucking the proper amount of cash into the server’s book. 

“That’s good.” He says all blasé as he looks at you with deadpan expression, situating his wallet in place again. 

“Oh my god— Dave! You are the worst!” You toss your napkin at him, shaking your head as you laugh at his flirtatious behavior. 

*

A proper casualness flows between the two of you following lunch— a familiar domesticity that had become so foreign to you. It now almost seems too far-fetched to think things have been strained in the last few months leading up to today and this seemingly perfect afternoon with Dave. 

A stitch of guilt begins to weave through your mind as you take in Dave’s unreserved laughter and the way he looks so, extremely happy. Maybe you were premature in believing that there was anything wrong to begin with. 

There’s a liveliness to Dave that has felt so rare to witness as of recently. No signs of stress. No closed off demeanor. No inkling of any distress that threatens to disrupt a marriage you so desperately desire to keep intact. 

He’s remarkably your Dave— through and through. 

The sun becomes far more dominating as the day passes. It’s fiery intensity has you squinting as you step out of the cute little ice cream shop you dragged Dave into after lunch. 

Thankfully you’re more than prepared. A pair of dark sunglasses now perched on the bridge of your nose and the light fabric tank you opted for thanks to Dave’s attentive nature for planning, always checking the weather forecast incessantly as he sips from his morning coffee.

It’s no surprise at the influx of tourists that crowd the sidewalk as you both amble about. Your arm wrapped around Dave, his free hand gently resting at the nape of your neck, both of you working against the heat to keep your ice cream from dripping down the cone. 

There’s a silence that hangs around the enjoyment of the summer treat, but it’s not uncomfortable. People watching and window shopping paired with brief moments of sweet banter have seemed to reignite the flame that had slowly begun to dwindle. 

“Woah!” A swarm of teenagers rocketing by on skateboards out of nowhere has you stunned, several of them nearly knocking into you. 

“What the fuck!” Dave’s quick like reflexes immediately turn on and he’s pulling you into his chest as the last few of the trailing skateboarders roll by. “Get off the sidewalk before you hurt someone, you punks!” 

“Yeah yeah! Fuck off old man!” The last of the bunch, a typical backwards hat wearing unphased teen, yells over his shoulder raising his middle finger as he skates off into the distance. 

“You okay?” Dave asks, giving you a quick once over. 

“I’m fine. They didn’t hit me— just startled me more than anything.” You assure him. 

“Still— those little assholes almost sideswiped you. And that little fucker calling me an old man?” Dave grumbles, following your lead to continue walking despite wanting to track down the group and give them a piece of his mind. 

“Easy, they’re just having fun. If I remember correctly, you too were once a little asshole. There’s a laundry list of stories your mom has shared with me to back that up too.” He scoffs at your comment, knowing exactly which stories his mom has divulged to you about his wild adolescent years. 

Your favorite being when a senior year prank almost resulted in suspension and losing scholarships. Dave and a few of his high school friends had decided to roller paper and egg the principal’s home one night. The group of teens had thought they pulled it off until they came to school and their pictures were plastered in every classroom— security cameras were not taken into account while planning such a prank. Dave’s parents caught wind of the incident and the missing rolls of TP from their home and forced Dave to turn himself in. Dave confessed as a lone prankster, adamant that he didn’t know who the other students were in the images, resulting in tutoring lower grade classmates the remainder of the semester and a few weekends of community service. 

“I’m not an old man.” He murmurs against your temple, pressing his lips to your warm skin. His hand settles into your back pocket directing his attention to his almost finished ice cream. 

“Didn’t say you were.” Grinning at his annoyance. “Your mom earlier— How is she? Everything okay?”

“She’s good. Everything’s good. Just checking in. Making sure we’re settling in okay here— you know how she is.” It feels like he’s saying a lot without saying much of anything. 

“Yeah— definitely sounds like her. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve talked to her. We should invite them over for dinner when we get back. Proper catch up— share about our trip with them in person.” You look at him, his head nodding along at the suggestion. 

You’ve always had a close relationship with his mother, Carol. Weekly trips to the farmers market and coffee dates became a regular thing after you and Dave married. Family dinners took place once a month, rotating between each other’s houses or restaurants. Carol never wanted to be one of those overbearing mother in laws, always making sure that you and Dave didn’t feel suffocated by her and Dave’s dad’s presence. 

“Okay. I’ll umm— I’ll call her when we get back. See what her and dad’s calendar looks like. I’m sure they’ll jump at the chance to get together, since our busy schedules haven’t seemed to line up in the last few months.” 

“Perfect.” 

There’s a beat of silence that follows making plans with his parents. Like there was more he wanted to say but left it unsaid. You don’t push for more and let any needling thought dissolve. 

“How was it?” Dave points to the remaining milky soup that’s settled into the top of your semi soggy cone. 

“It was delicious.” You tell him, then lapping at a few random drips racing down your wrist with your tongue, savoring the last of its salty sweetness.

“Let me have a taste of it.” He says, pulling you both out of the main flow of people walking behind you. 

“What? You don’t even like this flavor, Mr. Vanilla is the only flavor that truly matters.” You playfully mock his go-to choice of a single scoop of plain vanilla, not even a punch of vanilla bean or a sprinkling of chocolate chunks— he’s a simple man. 

“Maybe my taste buds have evolved?” He counters, pulling you flush against him under the shade of a store awning. “Give me a taste.” 

Everything around you fades to the background, it’s just the two of you. Dave’s lips molding to yours. His tongue gently skims over your lower lip, silently seeking entrance. 

It’s unhurried and thorough. A stark contrast from the chilly sensation that still lingers from the frozen dessert and the heat emanating from the way Dave’s tongue languidly traces over every bit of surface he can reach. Dizzying your senses, your mind fully immersed in the way he still tastes of sweet vanilla as he explores every detail of your mouth. Lapping at the remnants of the melted salted caramel that coats your tongue. 

It’s vulnerable and thrilling— feeling so right and fully present together. 

Your ice cream cone falls from your hand, crashing hard on the cement walkway, giving you the freedom to wrap your hands around his neck and relax even more into the kiss as Dave guides you through it. His hand squeezes your ass through your denim pocket, securing you against him. His other hand cradles your face as he swallows the small moans you produce when he nips tenderly at your bottom lip. 

“Dave—“ Is the only coherent word you can think of when he finally breaks the kiss. Your fingers tighten around his short hair as you float back to the ground. 

“I like the way it tastes on you. Might be my new favorite flavor.” He smiles, releasing small puffs of his breath over your lips. 

*

It was the first shop that caught your attention, the front display had you stopping in your tracks. Your initial interest to merely window shop, a signal to Dave that you were interested in the possibility of checking out more of their inventory. 

“Sweetheart? You doing okay in there?” Dave asks cautiously, as if to not scare off any potential decisions you might be deliberating over from behind the velvet curtain of the dressing room. 

It’s nothing new, a song and dance you’ve been through before— turning and inspecting from head to toe. Your mind in an epic battle with the reflection framed in front of you, dreading anytime you step foot in anything that resembles a fitting room. 

Except this time you’re not tearing apart every little thing about what you’re seeing, finding all the negative reasons as to why this particular dress isn’t working.

It’s the complete opposite, because you love the dress and you can see yourself wearing it on many occasions without a doubt. 

An ambered hue that reminds you of autumn when the leaves turn, and Dave spending hours in the yard gathering pile after pile while you bake a seasonal pie, watching him from the kitchen window. 

The tiered tulle fabric plucks a peculiar scene from your memory. Its flowy and dramatic silhouette is reminiscent of the dress you had worn to last year’s CIA Gala. Dave kept you close for the entirety of the evening. Your arm wrapped around his as he talked with colleagues, some new whose names you wouldn’t remember and others who had slowly worked their way into a more permanent place in your lives with regular dinner parties and monumental celebrations. Dave’s hand planted on the small of your back, his thumb drawing soft shapes where your dress strategically exposed your back, you were his grounding force among a sea of highly regarded men and their significant others.

“Hey- is everything okay?” Dave’s head now visible as he pulls the curtain back just enough to check in with you, his hushed tone barely audible over the upbeat music that the trendy boutique has playing through the store. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You say flatly as you continue to inspect your reflection, the hang tag with the bold asking price of the dress held between your restless fingers.

“Wow— Sweetheart, you look… Wow!” Speechless. Dave stands stunned behind you, taking in every bit of you, completely captivated.

“Yeah? It feels like a lot. I have a dress back at the room I can wear instead…” You say, watching the arduous battle he’s sorting through in his mind, his smitten smirk doing wonders to help settle your dress turmoil.

“No— No this, this is perfect. I love it so much. You definitely should get this one.” Dave says persuasively, a beat of sensualism exuding from where he now stands with his chest flush to your back, his hands attempting to bypass the layers of fabric in search of somewhere to efficiently affix himself to you. “Reminds me of that dress you wore to the Gala last year. You looked stunning. So much so I couldn’t keep my hands off of you the entire night. Pulled you into that closet and fucked you while the awards ceremony carried on.”

“Hmm, I remember.” You smile, your stomach flipping at the way he so vividly remembers that evening too. “But the price is a little much though. Like too much.” Dropping the price tag, allowing it to hang freely from the dress instead of mocking your sticker shop distress.

“Don’t worry about the price— it’s fine.” You gasp when he connects with your skin, a shiver zipping up your spine, his lips fervent and assertive as they work up the expanse of your neck.

Dave’s hand catches your head as it tips to the side, allowing him more ample space to roam. Your skin in his teeth triggers a soft whimper in your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as you get lost in the sensation of him.

It’s a blur of calculated movements on his part, your body receptive to his smooth control, moving along with ease until your back settles against the wall of the dressing room. The carpeted floor envelops the sound of him falling to his knees. Dave’s eyes glazed over as he stares up at you, their usual golden hue dappled with gleaming eagerness. His hands fumble with the hem of the dress skirt briefly, delighted when he finally manages to breach the abundant layers of fabric. The brush of his fingers on your skin as his hands skim up your legs is all the forewarning you’re given before he’s pulling down and removing the lace panties that you’ve been soaking through all afternoon because of him.

“Dave— what are you doing?” A breathless question, one you don’t really need a response to as he looks up to you one more time, his pointer finger resting on his mouth then lifting your leg over one of his shoulders. 

He takes in the sight of your glistening wetness, his mouth watering at how you’re dripping for him. The urge to taste you is strong and he gives into it fully. 

From above all you can see is bunched fabric and brown tousled locks when he connects to you, his angular nose pressed into the patch of hair that covers your mound, that first tentative kiss to your sex delicate and heady. The soft pressure of his flat tongue has your eyes rolling back when he starts to lick up and down, savoring the deliciously sweet taste of your arousal. Desire forging through your body with a deep buzzing intensity. 

“Oh fuck! If we get caught— Ah!Shit. Dave— Baby, that feels amazing—” You purr in what you hope is a hushed tone, tilting your pelvis just so, a dire need for a climactic release. 

Dave’s tongue moves in slow circles, teasing and flicking at your clit. His ministrations causing a slow tingle to build in your lower abdomen, steadily increasing in strength as he goes. 

“Ma’am, how’s everything going in there?” The store attendant asks, completely unaware of the lewdness taking place on the other side of the current. 

“Mmhmmm! Great! The dress is p-perfect!!” Your voice shoots up an octave when Dave inserts two fingers into your fluttering pussy in one quick thrust, moving them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your aching clit. 

“That’s so great to hear. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to holler.” She says before you hear the clicking of her boots retreating. 

You are squirming and quietly moaning, your knees nearly buckling as the fiery pleasure gains momentum, completely lost in the blissful sensation.

“You hear that, Baby. She said don’t hesitate to holler. Doing so good for me— I can never get enough of you!” His fingers hitting that delicious little spot that makes your toes curl, over and over again. 

“Dave— don’t stop!” And he doesn’t. 

He senses the tension building in your body, your walls seizing up around his deft fingers, intensifying his movements, his tongue lapping at every inch of your folds as your arousal runs down his hand. 

“Baby, I'm coming.” You say right before your jaw goes slack, a silent whine only noticeable to you and Dave fills the small space. Your vision dusted in white, a euphoric sensory cloud of light bursting behind your eyes. 

Dave catches you when it becomes too much to stand, whimpering at the loss of his fingers seated so firmly inside you. 

Your skin is dewy. Glowing under the small dressing room light. The beads of sweat running down the length of your neck, sliding down the slopes of your breast, migrating somewhere below the fabric of the dress. 

Dave catches a few salty drops, his tongue trailing over your clavicle makes you aware that he has removed himself from the underside of the skirt. 

You taste the brininess and the sweet tang of your arousal when he licks into your mouth. Zero time to catch your breath, his tongue tangling effortlessly with yours. 

“Hmmm— I take back what I said earlier. I love the way you taste— only flavor for me!” He says smirking against your tingling lips. 

“You are such a menace. But I love you for it.” You pull him in for one last chaste kiss. 

“I love you so much, Sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead, then bends to pick up your discarded panties, stuffing them in his front pocket. 

“Seems like it would be wrong to not buy the dress after that little move you pulled.” Giggling as you begin the process of undoing the back zipper. 

“Knew that would help sway your decision.” He says with an impish grin and wink. 

*

Your reservation has come and gone. 30 minutes to be exact. Misery and frustration fill your veins as you stir the tiny straw in the watered-down concoction. The cocktail-soaked cherry, normally your inaugural sprinkling of how well the drink was mixed, now lays overlooked and forgotten at the bottom of the glass.

The bartender, who checks in with you like clockwork every 10 minutes or so to see if you needed a refill albeit your obvious lack of consumption from the original drink he made, has shown zero annoyance over the fact that you have taken up space in not one, but two chairs at his bustling bar. Your small clutch placed in front of the empty seat reserved for your husband who was supposed to meet you here an hour ago.

*

Dave and you had made your way back to the hotel after purchasing the dress, giving yourselves plenty of time to get ready for the evening Dave had planned out.

It was hard to keep your hands off each other. a magnetic effervescence had you contemplating whether to call off the reservation all together despite Dave’s ecstatic adamancy to make it to the reservation on time. Both of you managed to work against the intense pull, only sharing shy glances and brushing of limbs standing side by side in front of the bathroom mirror while getting ready.

Dave didn’t shy away from flattering you as he helped zip you in, causing you to fight against tears that threatened to ruin the dramatic makeup that paired perfectly with your dress.

I love you. You are so beautiful. How did I get so lucky? I can’t wait to get you out of this dress later.

Dave’s hand molds to yours, a corner of his mouth lifted as you eagerly drag him from your hotel room. Taking advantage of the privacy the small offshoot hallway provides from the main corridor of the floor, he draws you back to him and without hesitation he kisses you with a fiery tenderness. 

“Alright. We need to go.” He says, breathless and not all that convincing. 

“Do we though? We could just swipe the key, make our way back inside, order room service— you can get me out of this dress. See what I may or may not be wearing underneath.” You murmur against his smile, your tongue sensually gliding over the underside of his upper lip causing him to release a heavy sigh, as if he really wants to do exactly just that. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Sweetheart. And as enticing as all of that sounds— amuse me and go along with what I have planned. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back here and I can slowly undress you.” He counters, leaving you little room to dispute his well thought out plan for the evening. 

“Alright, Mr. York. We'll play by your rules.” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Dinner. Then straight back here—“

A soft buzzing cuts you off. Dave’s body tenses against yours, releasing you from his hold to retrieve his phone from his black slacks. 

“I need to take this— it’s work.” His demeanor completely shifting from his usual sweet carefree self to closed off and mysterious. 

“Okay. Call them later then. They can leave you a message.” You reach for his hand to continue to make your way down to the restaurant. He pulls away, promptly taking a few steps back, his focus still on the number flashing on his phone screen. 

You’re not sure what hurts more. The fact that Dave is putting work first once again or how he so quickly recoiled when you reached for him. 

“I can’t. I need to take it.” He says, finally looking at you with pleading eyes, and you hate how much you so willingly give into his need to brush off the plans he was only moments ago so eager to get to. 

“Dave— Fine.” Releasing a heavy sigh into the narrow hallway, tightening your grip on the small purse that holds your phone, lip gloss and key card, doing your best to mask the resentment and defeat simmering just below the surface. 

“I’ll be quick. Go grab us a seat at the bar and I’ll meet you there when I’m finished.” He doesn’t give you an opportunity to get another word in, turning to let himself back into the room. 

The bottom of your dress floats in the air, kicking out with each step you take, making your way to the main hall of the floor in the direction of the elevator. Further from Dave. Closer to being alone yet again. Suppressing your swirling emotions for the time being.  

Dave’s hushed voice echoes down the walls. Never actually making back into the room before answering the call. Out in the open. Zero care that his wife is still within earshot. 

“Hey, Ashley… Yeah, she just left. I told her to just wait for me at the bar.” 

You stop dead in your tracks. The swish of your dress is now still at your feet, hanging in its normal wearing state. Your blood runs cold as your brain rapidly tries to digest what you just heard. 

Your heart clings to how easily Dave had been so present and affectionate since this morning. That sinking feeling of your suspicions being revealed. I knew this whole day was too good to be true. 

Everything feels like it’s narrowing. The hallway. Your vision. Your airway. Smaller and smaller. 

Something compels you to keep moving. Further from Dave. Closer to being alone at the bar, away from this man who you no longer find recognizable at this moment. 

*

“Excuse me. Can I get a Scotch, neat, side of water please?” Dave’s whereabouts are no longer unknown to you, leaning an elbow onto the bar as he orders himself a drink, his other hand resting on the back of the chair that has kept you comfortable while you wait. 

“Sorry, that took longer than expected.” Dave apologizes, sealing it with a kiss to your cheek. 

You hum a lackluster response. Gnawing at your bottom lip as you focus on the dilapidated napkin you’ve been rolling and unraveling, folding and unfolding for the umpteenth time. 

“You okay?” Dave asks, his hand moves to rest on your back but now it’s your turn to recoil from his touch, leaning forward before he’s able to make contact. 

“Yeah— I’m great.” You say flatly, only briefly looking at him to deliver your annoyed smile, then back to the crinkled napkin that’s now serving as an absorbent to pooling condensation. 

“Here you are sir.” The bartender interrupts, placing the single malt and ice water on the bar, Dave nods his thanks. 

You don’t have it in you to pry or question his tardiness. So you continue to sit in silence, watching Dave out of your peripheral properly dilute his drink so it’s suitable for sipping. 

“You’re not wearing your ring?” He points out to your bare ring finger then takes a light sip of the diluted scotch. 

The fingers of your left hand pause, fanning out so you can inspect the observation yourself. The usually adorned finger is stripped, lacking your wedding band and engagement ring.  

“Oh— I must have forgotten to put it back on after we went to the pool…” You hadn’t realized how naked it felt all day, the fingers of your right hand soothing over the indent skin, recalling when you had tossed the jewelry haphazardly into your bag yesterday. 

“You don’t think these strangers will get the wrong idea?” You sense an attempt at humor in his voice, only he has failed to read the room. His government skills not sensing you have zero interest in Dave’s untimely decision to be a humorist. “A beautiful woman, alone at a bar, without her wedding rings— Don’t want—“

“Excuse me— can you put my drink on his tab? He’ll be taking care of it, along with your generous tip.” You alert the passing bartender. You swivel your barstool just enough to reach around Dave’s solid form to grab your purse, then swivel in the opposite direction to stand. You tuck your purse under your arm, before delivering the irritation that has finally begun to boil over. “I think the only stranger confused about our marriage is you, Dave.” 

“Wait— Where are you going?” His hand gently clasped around your upper arm, halting your departure. 

You glance down at where his hand holds you, his thumb actively moving in soft circles over your skin, trying his best to distract and diffuse the air between you. Unfortunately, too little too late. 

“I’ve been sitting here waiting for you, Dave— for a fucking hour. I’m going back to the room.” You pull your arm from his grip and leave without another word. 

Dave somehow manages to catch the same elevator, but you don’t bother acknowledging his presence as he stands on the opposite side of the small metal cabin. The other riding passengers don’t suspect you two even know each other or the emanant rift that is unfolding between you, just two lone hotel guests sharing a lift to their designated floor. 

2 stops allow for the other guests to get on to their respective floors, leaving only you and Dave left to continue the ride to the final stop. 

The striking silence is met with electric chords spilling from the small speakers in the elevator. The familiar tune feels like an old friend you’ve been reacquainted with after months apart. Those first few lines wrap around you, embracing you fully— I’ve missed you so. The chorus drawing your gaze to where your husband stands slouched against the mirrored wall, looking equally as somber as you feel, his eyes already drawn to you in the same manner. 

A smile tugs at your lips, a fleeting moment of remembrance to that night so many years ago. That night where Dave was more than just a stranger in a bar. He was your future. Your home. Dave without a doubt was the best thing to happen to you. 

The memory of meeting Dave is interrupted by a soft ding and the doors slowly unveiling your intended destination. 

You stalk towards the room with a graceful backbone, a beautiful facade to how you truly feel inside, keeping yourself together with each poised stride. Dave takes his position two steps behind, vigilantly in tune with your body language. 

There’s a sense of relief that overcomes you the second the door closes and the lock clicks. No longer needing to keep a composed demeanor to prying eyes. No longer allowing the hurt to fester and torment your heart in a stealthily manner. 

They flow furiously once they start. Tears streaming down your face. Silent sobs cracking in your throat. 

You move about busily, grabbing and tossing, too lost in your own blurry thoughts to even notice Dave standing there watching you. 

“What are you doing?” Dave asks, perplexed by the way you’re flinging item after item into your suitcase that lays open on the bed. 

“You’re a smart man, Dave. I’m sure you can figure that out.” Grabbing a drawer’s entire contents and dropping it messily into your bag. 

“I get that you’re packing. Why are you packing is my concern.” He takes a timid step closer towards the streamline process of you moving about. 

“I’m going home. I’ll catch a ride to the airport. Book a new flight when I get there. I can have Jacey pick me up when I land.” A plan you had thoroughly developed before Dave had arrived at the bar. 

“Wait— you’re going home? Why? What’s going on?” He steps directly into your path, hindering your progress. 

“I don’t know anymore, Dave. I thought this was what we needed. Some time away together. Away from work. Away from our normal lives. Just us reconnecting. But it seems like this whole thing was just wasted effort.” You try to wipe the tears, but they just continue to fall. 

“Baby, you’re not making any sense right now.” He knows he should allow you space, but the urge to pull you into him is stronger. 

“It’s been months. Months of you working long hours. Months of missed dinners and late nights at the office. Months of being alone at night wondering if you’re okay and when you’ll be home. Months of worrying that something is happening between us and trying to figure out how to fix it.” Each convulsive gasp for air you struggle for fans across Dave’s neck. His arms tightening around you, every word slicing through his chest. 

“Fuck—“ He murmurs, his cheek pressed into the side of your head, your tearful confession not anything he expected to hear tonight. 

“If you didn’t want to c-come with me— I would have u-understood.” Your shoulders jostle in Dave’s arms, your own arms hanging at your side, still holding a few loose garments in your fists. 

“What? No! Baby, I wanted to come. I want to be here— with you.” Dave pulls back, enough so you can see the sureness in his eyes. 

“What about her? Wouldn’t you rather be here with— h-her?” Your voice cracks at the thought of Dave with someone who isn’t you. 

“Her? What are you talking about?” 

“Ashley— She’s the important phone calls you’ve been taking. The work that can’t wait. She’s why you’ve been so distant with me for months.” It feels like glass the minute it leaves your mouth, shattering across your tongue, nearly choking on the tiny little shards. 

“Honey, you think I’m having an affair?” A nod is all your weary state can give. An affair— it’s the only thing that makes sense to you right now. 

“I heard you talking to her several times since we got here, Dave. The last time being when you told me you had to take an important call and you would meet me at the bar before our dinner reservation.” 

You’re not sure what you expect him to do now that he’s been caught. Confess to his actions. Tell you everything from the beginning. Get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. It was a mistake, it will never happen again. 

What you don’t expect is to see a single tear fall down his handsome face. To see a look of rich tenderness in his eyes. Warmth in his touch as he wipes away the wet worriment painted over your face. 

“Baby— Fuck, I’m so sorry. To say that this trip so far has been stressful would be an understatement. Nothing I had planned for this trip has gone right— even after months and months of preparation. And you’re right, they weren’t work phone calls— not all of them at least. I’m so sorry for making you feel like I didn’t want to be here— I do. I want to tell you everything, but I think it’s best if I show you first.” 

“Show me what?” You ask him. 

“Come with me so you can see for yourself. And if you still want to go home afterwards, we’ll leave tonight.” Dave’s head tilts, his eyes searching yours hoping to relieve any reservations you still might be internally feeling. 

“I look like a blubbering mess right now.” You use what you now realize are a pair of socks to wipe any streaks of makeup smeared on your face. 

“No you don’t. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says, his lips molding over yours are a sobering reflection of his love for you. 

Not much else is said on the trek back down to the lobby, allowing Dave to take you to wherever this mysterious place is. 

There’s a nervousness about him, his jitters, while subtle, are loud and obvious. Holding his sweaty palm against yours. His other hand actively fidgeting in his pocket. Head tilt back, then forward, stretching his neck from side to side. 

You lean into his shoulder, tucking your free hand under his arm, hoping to ground him a bit. It helps, you feel him relax instantly into your touch. His lips pressing to the side of your head, Thank you. 

“Dave, where are we going?” You ask as you walk in an unfamiliar area of the hotel. 

“Almost there.” He says, his fingers squeezing in small bursts against your hand. 

It’s a long hallway covered in an elaborate wallpaper with rich details of floral patterns and bold hues. It's dimly lit due to the fact that there’s zero windows, the only light is given by the mid century style sconce fixtures lining the walls. Potted plants strategically placed around sculptures and empty velvet chairs. 

You’re met with two large wooden doors as you approach the end of the hall, but it’s the woman standing in front of them that has your attention. She’s beautiful, actually she’s stunning. Her smile is so warm and inviting, beaming at you as you and Dave walk closer to where she stands. It’s as if she’s been expecting you, waiting diligently for your arrival. 

“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. York. My name is Ashley.” 

[sc0tters]

Birthday Blues | Jack Hughes

summary: it’s Jacks 22nd birthday but when you’re so caught up making things perfect he starts to think you’ve forgotten what day it is.

request: yes/no

warnings: mentions of alcohol, use of the word y/n once or twice.

word count: 1.53k

authors note: literally started this piece in Australia and finished it in Bali but I rewrote so many parts of it that it took me a whole 6 hour flight to get this edited 😭.

Jack didn’t consider himself to be a nervous person.

Truly, it was tough to be one when you were the first pick in your respective draft year and as a middle child.

But around you it was a different story. You were on the media team for the devils and honestly he didn’t know what it meant to feel starstruck or in awe of someone until he met you.

Without any effort at all you managed to totally knock him off of his feet. Maybe it was the fact that you were older or maybe it was the fact that in a stream of people treating him like some he was a godsend, you were there to remind him that at the end of the day he was only human, but you never made him feel bad.

Jack had learnt your coffee order and after a while he started bringing it to you every day “he likes you, know that right?” Nico asked with an amused smirk on his face as he watched his teammate walk out of her office.

All you could do was smile “he’s just being polite.” That was what you told yourself each time the forward did anything for you.

Like the time he brought you a tub of ice cream from your favourite ice cream parlour in New York when he learnt that your cat passed away.

The things he did went from grand like the ice cream to just saying hello and goodbye at the beginning and end of each work day.

Part of you had to admit that you liked Jack but an even bigger part of you had to admit that you appreciated him. Since he came to the team there wasn’t a single night out that you went on where you had to walk home alone.

You had learnt after meeting his parents that it was a value that was most likely instilled in him through his parents.

All of those things made you wonder if that was the reason why you were putting so much effort into his birthday celebrations.

The boys didn’t know why but you seemed to enjoy party planning and as a result you were the one who would get tasked with planning what the team would do for the in season birthdays.

Luckily for Jack this year his birthday fell on on the first day off of a four day gap where the team weren’t playing games so they were allowed to celebrate the Hughes boy with a bit of alcohol involved.

The boys had an early morning training session where they were all so invested in the events of the day that it gave you the time to sneak out for some last minute errands “y/n!” Jack called out causing your eyes to go wide.

You had gone to pick up his present, not because you only decided to shop for it today but because it was only ready to be picked up today. You had gotten him a bracelet that had ‘go get em’ on the underside of the plate that had the day he made his debut engraved on it. The saying was something that usually fell from your lips before a game “hi Jack!” You awkwardly forced a smile onto your lips as you tried to hide the bag from him. Jack had a knack for being nosey when it came to you and the things you did.

So it was safe to say that you were somewhat panicking “you got any plans tonight?” The hockey player asked as he cocked his head ignoring your awkward stance.

He assumed you were going to be at the bar but nobody seemed to mention anything “nope,” you lied as you began to panic “I’ve got a night at home calling my name.” You explained as you shrugged. Lying was never your forte especially not when the guy in front of you looked as sad as Jack currently did “I should get back to my office,” you announced as you quickly spun on your head as you make your way back to your office before you blurted out what you had done. Jack knew his parents were in town because they were coming for the game, but what he didn’t know was that you had convinced both of his brothers to come into town for it too and you actually had to go pick the two of them up.

To say that Jack was heartbroken was dramatic but truthful. With the amount of messages that he had gotten about his birthday he truly thought that you would have at least said a little happy birthday to him, you usually did but now it seemed like you had forgotten about the day.

He also felt a little bit isolated in a sense because he hadn’t told anyone that he liked you, sure Nico and most of his teammates had picked up on it and sent the relentless string of teasing his way but he usually just ignored it.

The Devils player actually had to be dragged out of his apartment by his parents to go to the bar because he truly didn’t want to go out. Part of him wanted to show up at your door unannounced just so that he could give you a piece of his mind, but the more clear thinking part of him knew that it would never work as he could never be mad or even try to yell at you.

On the other hand you were feeling like you finally had a moment to breathe now that Quinn and Luke were in the bar “he’s gonna be fine,” Quinn smiled as he squeezed his hand on your shoulder. Both boys could tell that you were nervous wanting everything to go right for Jacks birthday “what are you doing here?” The Devils player only seemed to care that the girl had arrived “yeah I’ll just go back to Michigan then.” Luke scoffed drawing a laugh from your lips.

You had met the youngest Hughes boy a few times over the years especially after he got drafted by the Devils and his bluntness never failed to make you laugh “shut up,” Jack rolled his eyes as he pulled his brothers into a hug.

The older Devils player was surprised to see his siblings too “y/n actually got us here,” Quinn pointed out as he sent you a smirk, after hearing Ellen gush about you last year at the lake house the eldest Hughes boy knew that you were special to his brother.

Your cheeks turned pink as Jacks eyes never left you “thanks for this,” he grinned as he wrapped his arms around you.

All you could do was nod as you tried to remain calm “just doing my job,” you smiled as you shrugged.

Jacks party had gone down a blast. You seriously didn’t think that the players found a moment actually stop moving as everyone just continued drinking and dancing.

But like all good parties and age this one was one you were starting to feel in your feet “where are you going?” Jack asked as he watched you begin to make your out of the door.

He always seemed to notice you like wherever you went his eyes followed “it’s time for me to call it a night.” You explained as you were looking forward to the warm bubble bath that was calling your name.

The boy couldn’t help it when he frowned “I’ll walk you home.” The hockey players favourite bar was only four minutes away from your apartment.

Your heart warmed at the offer “stay with your family.” You shook your head as you turned down his offer.

But Jack didn’t seem to listen as he placed his hand on the small of your back “they won’t notice that I’m gone.” He pointed out as he started walking with you.

You sucked at your teeth as you finally found the curiosity within yourself to ask him what Nico continuously pointed out “why are you so caring?”

Jack smiled at the compliment “you’re an easy person to care for,”he pointed out as he shrugged.

The street was dead silent as you turned to face him letting the street light hit your face “how’d I get so lucky?” You blurted out as you pursed your lips together.

The boy licked his lips at your question “I ask myself that all the time,” he confessed as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

It drew a laugh from your mouth “you’re such a simp,” you pointed out with a smirk “only for you,” Jack was quick to shoot that statement back as it caused you to realise that Nico was right.

Jack did have a crush on you.

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the collar of his shirt “shut up,” you mumbled as you captured his lips in a kiss.

It was something you had waited to do for months.

Something Jack wanted to do from the moment he met you.

This was officially the best birthday he could have ever asked for.

[cainnleacghlovers]

Who’s he? - MM

Paring: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mason thinks Y/N is cheating. What happens when he can’t get his girl to forgive him? And what happens when Mason marks him in a match?

Warnings: Angst

Part 1/2?? maybe??

Finishing up the pasta you were cooking, you checked, for about the hmm? what time? you’d lost count. Okay, you definitely had enough protein in it. You’d asked the clubs dietician for some dishes you could make for Mason, knowing he loved a home cooked meal. Why on earth would someone need so much protein? What even is an amino acid?

You couldn’t complain, after all, you did get to reap the benefits of the muscle he was building. Whether it was a strong hand clasped in yours when you were out for a walk, or clutching his biceps while he pounded into you. Yep, you definitely weren’t gonna complain.

Trying a bit of the sauce. you were satisfied with the taste. Hearing the door creak open. You still hadn’t gotten round to oiling it yet. Shoes were thrown off, no doubts against the skirting board, and feet padded across the wooden floors, until a voice rung through the house.

“I’m home baby!” The voice said. That voice none other than your boyfriend. His voice was raspy, probably due to the freezing temperatures in London right now. You don’t think you’d ever get used to the permanent draft that seemed to linger in ever corner of the country.

“Kitchen!” You hummed back, singing to the beat of the song currently playing. New romantics by Taylor Swift. One Mason had even grown to love, insisting the lyrics mirrored his life. ‘The best people in life are free.’

Stepping into the kitchen, he gave you a smile, before making his way over to you, and pulling you into his chest by the waistband of your leggings. He swayed you slightly, his cold breath gradually heating up against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“I missed you today.” He’d been gone, how long? 3 hours. But you two needed to spend every minute of every day of every month of every year of every… okay, you get what i mean, together. He was your best friend, and he wasn’t just your world, he was your moon and stars. He was your entire galaxy.

“I missed you too.” You hummed against his chest, hands still stirring the pot in front of you, as you slapped his hand away when he tried to take some. That boy was so bad for double dipping.

“How was your day?” He asked, refusing to let go of you.

“Boring. Lecture was absolute shite. Came home, did homework. Got bored of said homework. Made pasta to procrastinate. How was yours? Working hard?”

He laughed at your comment, as your prodded his bicep.

“Working very very hard.” He added, spinning you round so he could pepper kisses all over your face. His bearubble, as you liked to call. It wasn’t a beard, but it wasn’t stubble. It was a bearubble. It tickled your face as his lips found yours, and you melted into the kiss. The coldness of his lips contrasting the warmth of yours.

“Mason stop. That tickles.”

‘Mason stop’ seemed to translate into ‘Mason keep going’, and he began to tickle under your arms, and scratch your face lightly as you kicked your feet in defence. You were a giggling mess under him, and he swore, in that moment, he’d never heard anything sweeter.

“Mase dinners gonna go cold.” He released you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Fine. You win.”

As if on queue, his stomach rumbled, and he kissed you on the cheek before reaching up to grab some bowls. As he stretched, his jumper rose slightly, getting a good look at his toned stomach. Suddenly you were hungry for two things now!

Filling the bowls, he moved you over so he could lift them. Insisting he did everything for you, even carrying your bowl.

Making your way over to the living room, yes you ate in the living room, and yes you had a perfectly good kitchen table, but both your parents had been strict with eating on the sofa, so as soon as you got your own house, by god were you eating on the sofa.

He sat down, patting his lap for you to sit down.

“Will you be able to eat your dinner without getting distracted?” Hand on a hip, as you looked at him.

“I’ll be a good boy.”

Laughing, you fell onto his lap. Enjoying your dinner, and enjoying your company.

As you went to get drinks, a phone buzzed.

“It’s yours.” Mason said.

“I think it’s your mum. She was asking me about wallpaper. I said light blue, but she sent me every light blue wallpaper in the blinkin’ place.” You laughed to yourself, not really angry. You loved his mum.

He looked at your phone, as he checked the notification. Unless he unlocked the phone, he wouldn’t be able to see.

“Well who’s it from?”

“Can’t see. Got that lock thingy on.”

Unlocking your phone, you came back in, handing him a bottle of water. The atmosphere seemed to change, as if the cold from outside had crept in.

“It’s from Martin.” He said with a monotone expression.

“Who’s Martin?” You said genuinely curious.

“I think you exactly who Martin is.”

He spat the name out, and you felt the poison spilling off of his tongue. Furrowing your eyebrows, you were confused at why he raised his voice at you.

“Right, calm down.” You said, rolling your eyes at his temper.

“Calm down? Haha, you’re a funny one Y/N.”

“Oh i’m just hilarious. Why’ve you got a stick up your ass all of a sudden?”

Opening your phone, you realised it wasn’t messages. It was Instagram.

“No no. Don’t try be all ‘I’m so innocent’ with me? Jesus, you’ve talked more than once. What is this? He’s swiping up on your stories? He’s swiped up on one i’m in? He clearly knows that you’re you know, not single? Why is he messaging you? And why is it more than once!”

He was angry now. You knew the messages he was talking about, and they were certainly not bad. He played football with your brother, he complimented you? It was innocent. Absolutely nothing in it. If he was gonna point fingers, best believe you were too.

“Want me to go find him and go ‘Yo Martin, why are you messaging me, tell me every single fibre of thought behind it.’ I didn’t ask him to do this? So don’t take something that isn’t my fault, out on me.”

The tension in the room rose, the sofa being both a literal boundary, and a metaphorical one. You two didn’t shout, and you two most certainly didn’t accuse the other of cheating.

“Well you obviously gave him some notion that this was okay? You’re probably loving the attention.” He drew out the loving, and the sarcasm was laced through his words. His final words hurt you.

“And why on earth, mars, and venus would i do that? I don’t know why he’s messaged me. He swiped up on my story, and being a decent human, I replied back! I didn’t think much of it? It’s not like I sent him hearts and kisses, and ‘omg i’m in love with you?’ You’re being dramatic.”

If he was gonna go for sore spots, you were going to absolutely kick him in the ball. Not literally, but you were considering it. He knew you hated the attention you for dating him, and you knew he hated being told he was dramatic. Two can play at that game Mason.

He did not take that well. At all. Oh no.

“I’m dramatic?! My girlfriend is messaging other lads? What am I supposed to say to that, do a happy dance, and tell all the lads tomorrow at training! No! You’re bloody entertaining him. Why’re you going it? Your own validation?”

He opened your phone, scrolling through the messages. There was no point trying to get it, it would make the whole situation, that was already dramatic, explode.

“You’ve replied to all of them? Awk come on now Y/N. ‘Looking great’ with an ‘x’ ,a fucking ‘x’ you can’t be serious? ‘Aww thank you, that’s so sweet’ with a happy face. And you didn’t think much about it? What a fucking joke. Absolute bull shit.”

Not only did he mock his accent, his intimidated yours. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Are you serious Mason? He said ‘looking great’ and I replied? Being nice? And if we’re being like that, yeah i guess he’s a friend. But there’s absolutely nothing in it!”

“Fuck off.” He said, phone still in his hand, as if it were glued.

“No you fuck off you bastard.”

You didn’t mean to call him a bastard, and god you hated that word, but you were angry and cross and furious and every single word that means pissed off.

“Such a nice thing to call your boyfriend. Maybe you’d rather Martin be your boyfriend.”

“I’m not even talking to you anymore you ass hole.”

Again, you didn’t mean to call him that, but you were angry and cross and steaming out the ears. He scoffed, throwing your phone on the seat, and went upstairs to do something. Who cares what he was going to do. Probably complain about you to Declan.

Slumping down on the seat, you groaned in pure frustration, not understanding how the situation went from his mums wallpaper, to your supposed cheating scandal. Kicking your feet in the air, like a child, you got off of the seat with another groan, and put the bowls in the kitchen.

—

After you’d cooled down, and your vision turned normal, no longer seeing red. You decided that you should crack on with some homework. The complex Uni stuff you didn’t even understand would distract you.

Only problem was, Uni books were upstairs. Normally that would be a problem because, who could be bothered walking up the stairs not you. Today the problem was Mason.

Walking upstairs, you seen him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Y/N.” He said softly. How dare he use that tone on you?

You looked at him, your eyes dark. You did not want to speak to him.

He patted the space beside him, looking for you to sit down.

“Come here. Please.” He added. The desperation in his voice almost made you feel bad. Almost.

“I do not want to talk to you.” You said harshly.

“Please. I wanna apologise.”

Number one rule in your relationship, someone wants to apologise, listen. Sighing you say down beside him. He moved to be closer to you, his arms stretching out to find their usual spot, around your waist. Not today though. You moved away from him.

“I’m sorry. You know I trust you.”

“Omg! You totally do. You’d never accuse me of cheating.” You said sarcastically, not even sorry that it probably hurt his feelings. He deserved it.

“I don’t know why I reacted like that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of blown up at you.”

“That’s nice.” You added, raising your eyebrows. Listening to him, but not listening to him.

Getting up, and getting your books. You made your way to the door, eager to get out of this damn room.

“Y/N come on. I know I fucked up. I’ve said sorry, and I am sorry. What else can I do baby. Talk to me. Tell me how I can be better.”

“I know you said sorry, but I just don’t wanna look at your right now. Never mind talk to you.”

He sighed knowing you weren’t gonna give in. You pursed your lips, and prepared for you long, super long, night of studying. Yay!

—

Checking the time, and seeing it was 1:30 AM. You decided you’d have enough. Valuing your back over a fight with Mason. You were not sleeping on the coach. You made your way up the stairs.

—

Getting changed, you turned away from him, and he knew every single detail about you. From the time you wanted to be blonde, till the clothes you slept in. So of course, he noticed that you didn’t wear your usual bed attire. His t-shirt, and shorts. Instead opting for your own top, and a pair on long bottoms. You got in bed, not even looking at him, ad you stared aimlessly at the wall.

Better to go to bed angry than to rush an insincere apology.

“Night baby. I love you.” Mason said, and you heard him move to face you. Instead of being met with your pretty face, he was met with your back. He still thought it was pretty, but it wasn’t your gorgeous eyes.

“Night Mason.” You said coldly.

“Are you still coming to the match tomorrow?”

“I’ll see. I have a lot of work.” It wasn’t a lie, you did have a lot of work.

“But you never miss my home games.” He moaned. It was true. 4 years of dating, 4 years of home games.

“Mason please. I don’t wanna do this. Go to sleep.”

You felt him turn away again.

“Sorry. Night. I love you.”

Ignoring him, you soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

—

Waking up that morning, you notice Masons gone. You knew you put him a bad mood, after ignoring him last night, but he hadn’t been cross enough to let you freeze. The blankets had been pulled over you.

Rolling over, you rolled your eyes. Reaching for your phone. A message from Kai lit up the screen.

Kai: “what’d you do to him? worst fucking mood ever.”

So Kai got the blunt of it. Lucky him.

You: “he thinks i was flirting with Martin Ødegaard???? so i got pissed off. like really. called him a bastard…😬”

You watched the three bubbles appear as Kai typed.

Kai: “In short, he fucked up.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. The German really fit the stereotype. Blunt as hell.

You: “hmm.”

Kai: “You coming to the game then??? Sophia’s been eating my ear off about seeing you. Both them on the same pitch, roughhhhh😳”

Your heart dropped. Chelsea were playing Arsenal. Forgot being fucked, you were double fucked. No, triple fucked.

You: “Fuck off. no way you’re playing Arsenal.”

Kai: “We are indeed.”

You: “fuck my life. good luck later then!!”

Not that Kai needed it, he was a phenomenal player.

Kai: “thanks Y/N🙌🙌”

—

You decided you had to go to this match. Getting ready, you decided you didn’t hate him enough to not wear his jersey, but decided on a jumper over the top. The jumper could come of, the jumper could stay on. You’d see how you were feeling.

—

Getting to the match, you showed your pass, and they let you in. Making your way up, you spotted Sophia. Greeting her with your usual hug.

—

As the match progressed, Mason was extremely aggressive. You’d never seen him play like this. He always insisted that a dirty player, meant they weren’t secure in their ability. He fouled Saka. Surprising you. He had a lot of respect for the young boy. Singing his praises often.

“Jesus Mason.” You muttered, watching as Christian pushed Mason back, looking like he was having a serious conversation with him.

Sitting beside Sophia, you both cringed. The fouling was unnecessary.

“Did something happen? He’s really angry.” She commented, and you let out a dry laugh. You didn’t have the energy to explain what happened, even to one of your best friends. The girl you say on the floor with giggling like teenagers over your boyfriends.

“Fight last night. I didn’t wanna apologise. He thought I was cheating.”

Her eyes widened, she was genuinely shocked. The whole world knew how much you two adored each other. If you wanted the stars, he found a way to give you the whole universe.

“No way. What a dick.” She commented, making you laugh.

“Worst part is. Number 8. That’s who I apparently cheated on him with.”

—

Mason had the ball, and he was plummeting towards the goal. He tore through the defence like they were just made of feathers. Booting the ball, he found the back of the net. Running over to the corner of the field, he slid across on his knees. Lifting his top up.

He had ‘you look great x’ wrote across his under shirt, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re right Soph. What a dick head.”

-

Half time came and done, the tension in the pitch spreading to the stands. The fans were tense. The coaches were tense. The players were tense.

You were tense.

The boys came back out, and before you knew it. A commotion broke out of the pitch. Mason pushing Martin. He obviously did not appreciate that, and shoved your boyfriend right back. Christian ripped Mason away, and Martin shouted something.

I seen the anger rip through his body, coursing through his veins. Mason stormed over to Martin, grabbed his shirt, and threw him to the ground. Martin hit the ground, his team matés absolutely furious with what happened. The referee wasted no time showing him a card, as Kai dragged him away. Trying to talk some sense to him.

No surprises, he got subbed off. He stalked off the pitch, kicking a water bottle that was on the grass, sending it flying into the dug outs. He stormed into the changing rooms, or so you thought. That’s the general direction he appeared to be going in.

You and Sophia gave each other the look.

All she did was pay your shoulder and laugh.

“Good luck.”

—

Sick of his attitude, you walked into the changing rooms. Taking a lot of convincing on your behalf to the security guard to let you in. Eventually he did.

You got to the door of the changing room. Doing an awkward dance, jig type thing, as you prepared to go in. Your tongue became sandpaper, and you had to give yourself an internal clock to convince yourself to knock.

“Mason. It’s me. Are you decent?”

Waiting for a response, you cringed. Not sure what you were embarrassed over. The whole situation probably. Hearing a grunt back, you assumed that translated into something like ‘Come on in.’ Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

Sitting away from him, you looked at him. He refused to meet you eye. There was no point sugar coating what he’d done. He’d messed up. Again.

“What was that about? You’ve bebe bebe booked for aggression.”

“Jesus, let me breathe. You’re going to tell me how I shouldn’t of done it either. I’ve heard it from Kai, i’ve heard it from Christian. I don’t wanna hear about it.”

He ripped his boots off, throwing them into the shoe locker. You never understood how they got new boots every match. 100’s of pounds for one game. Seems like an awful waste.

“I’m sure you’ve heard it enough, but yeah, you shouldn’t of done it. Pushing Bukaya as well. Come on Mason. What got you so pissed off? Other than the obvious.”

“Nothing.” He said bluntly. This was like talking to a brick wall.

“Mason.”

He raised his head out of their position between his hands, and his hair was messed up from gripping it. He threw his head against the wall, groaning in frustration as he sighed deeply.

“He called me an arrogant son of a bitch. Said I think this big tough lad, and i’m not. Didn’t even say that much, I was just cross and he was an easy target.”

He sighed, obviously regretting what he’d done.

He looked at you, finally. His eyes sad, and dropping from tiredness. You knew yourself, how eyes look when they’re about to cry. Your Uni work enforcing this feeling so often. You couldn’t help but feel bad.

“It got me thinking. Maybe I am an arrogant son of a bitch. And I know I don’t deserve you. And don’t tell me ‘Oh Mase don’t listen to him.’ or ‘you know i love you.’ After what I said yesterday, you deserve someone better. You deserve more than me.”

His eyes scanned your body, noticing his name wasn’t on show. You were still mad, but you had all the time in the world to be mad. Mason needed you.

Moving close to him, you tugged your jumper off. Turning your back so he could see his name, looking over your shoulder to see him smiling a little.

There it was. Your beautiful boys smile.

“I’m very proud. To let everyone know. That the handsome, talented man, that is the Mason Mount, is my boyfriend. My boyfriend. My man.”

He smiled, putting his hand out to pull you closer, pulling it back a little when he remembered you were still mad. Doing his job for him, you moved closer. Head resting on his shoulder. The whole fight seemed silly now, but you knew you still had to talk about it.

“I’m sorry for calling you a bastard, and an ass hole.” You joked. You definitely weren’t sorry, he didn’t have to know that.

He laughed, and you felt a weight lift of your shoulders.

“No I deserved it.”

“Yeah, you did.” You laughed.

You two sat in silence, the only thing breaking it was the cheers of the crowd. Who scored? You don’t know. Did you care? Not one bit.

“And I love you.” He smiled at that, his arm resting around your shoulder, rubbing lightly up and down.

“I love you. So damn much. No, that’s not enough. I love you so much that I’d give up football for you. I love you so much that i’d let Declan beat me every time we play fifa. I love you so much that I-”

You shut him up with a kiss. The kiss was more than just two lips touching. It was full of love. Full of passion. Full of 4 years of love you’d shared with this boy. 4 years of laughter, smiles, and tears.

“No harm Mason. You absolutely stink.”

He laughed, missing your banter. Even if it was just for a few hours. He never ever wanted to stop hearing your laugh.

“Guess we should shower then.” He prompted. Trying his luck.

“Showering’s a solo task.” You said.

He stood up, grabbing the back of your thighs as he lifted you, bridal style.

“When has showering ever been a solo task with us?”

Part 2???

This was inspired by a fic I read ages ago, and cant find the author :( If you do, let me know!

[onyourowndaisymae]

unicorn bandages - alt. version

this has been sitting in my drafts awhile. someone requested some lucifer hurt/comfort (that i haven't got around to yet) and i wrote this, only to realize this didn't exactly hit the mark when i finished. but i figured it's cute, so i might as well post it

word count: 1145

content + warnings: playful/smartass lucifer, general fluff, minor physical injury, general mentions of embarrassment

you need to learn to be more careful.

that's what you think as you walk the rest of the way home to the house of lamentation, lost in your own thoughts. the gentle searing pain of your skinned knee was enough of a punishment-- did you brain have to keep replaying the memory of you tripping in the middle of town, too? being clumsy and wearing shorts were both incompatible with your plans today, yet here you are, looking foolish and feeling exposed from your mistake.

the blood had long since dried against your skin. you felt sticky and gross, yearning now for a shower and a place to hide from your lingering embarrassment. did anyone from RAD see you eat shit outside that shop. ugh, and they way nobody helped you up, how you awkwardly stumbled to your feet and-- ahhh!! please, no more!!

the familiar creak of the front doors announced your arrival to the house of lamentation. you shuffled inside awkwardly, head hung, staring at your feet to avoid another tumble. even the book you bought on your day out couldn't console you enough to block out the invisible judgement you felt.

"what is that?"

you lifted your head to find lucifer stopped in the archway to the living room, eyes narrowed at you.

"huh?"

"what is that?" he repeated. "what happened to your knee?"

"oh. i, uh, i fell on my way home and scraped my knee. i don't-- i'm fine. it's just a scrape."

you felt the urge to shy away from his stern gaze, to hide your little scrape from his prying eyes and pretend it never happened. he looks at the wound for a few moments longer before meeting your eyes.

"will you sit down on the stairs for a moment, mc?"

"it's not that big of a deal. it just need to be wiped off, nothing special."

"then surely you'd be okay with me cleaning it for you? since it's such a minor injury."

you couldn't think of much else to argue. he gave you that smug half-smirk he saved for minor victories such as this and disappeared from sight. you shuffled to the stairs and sat, slumped in defeat, as he presumably went to fetch some first aid supplies.

the avatar of pride returned as quickly as he left, this time with a small black box in his hands. a small gesture of his hands urged you to stretch the injured leg out to give him better access. gloved hands busied themselves digging through unidentified supplies.

"what happened?" he asks, quietly, as he pulls out what looks like a cotton pad and some sort of cleaning agent.

"i was... i went out to get this book satan recommended. y'know, because he always wants to talk about what he's reading." he nodded and you continued. "so i decided to grab it while i was out. apparently there's a hole in the sidewalk out front, because as i was walking out, my foot got caught and i-- ow!"

your cry of pain was almost indignant as lucifer interrupted your story by cleaning the wound. the sharp sting of something akin to but not quite isopropyl alcohol lit your knee on fire. had the scrape really been that bad?

"the bacteria in the devildom is a bit more aggressive than in the human realm," he explained, softer look on his face than a moment ago. "we wouldn't want our favorite human getting sick from an accident like this, would we?"

as if he was trying to apologize, lucifer brought your knee closer by the back of your leg and gently blew on the wound to alleviate some of the pain of the cleanser currently working its magic. it was nice. for a moment, he was lucifer, big brother, not the avatar of pride he embodied in public. his fingers fiddled with pulling and stretching your skin to ensure each inch was properly wiped clean. there was a certain level of sincerity to his movements that made you smile.

"did you do this a lot when your brothers were growing up?"

"you have no idea."

that makes you laugh. he smiles, just a little, before continuing.

"angels are supposed to be resilient. their skin is thicker than a human being's, so they shouldn't get hurt as easily. and yet training my younger brothers was-- well, it was quite the event."

"i'm gonna guess mammon was the biggest pain?"

"definitely mammon." a fond smile. he wiped a cotton pad across your busted knee before continuing. "every time i saw him, he was always covered in bruises and scrapes. i could never quite get him to admit that he'd got them wandering off in pursuit of his younger brothers."

"that sounds a lot like him."

lucifer picked up a small tin containing the bandages. these must have been picked out by asmodeus-- instead of the usual plain design lucifer always grabbed, these were bright and colorful with unicorn designs. the avatar of pride only offered a small sigh before pulling an adequately sized one out and applying for you. in a few moments, what was a terribly embarrassing memory had been sealed from the world behind two unicorns hopping in unison over a rainbow.

"aren't you going to kiss it better?"

your sarcastic question was followed by your mischievous little smirk. maybe you shouldn't have teased him while he was in such a good mood. his eyes narrowed a bit before, to your surprise, his smirk mirrored your own.

you open your mouth to play off your joke, but lucifer's already lifting your knee to his mouth. your whole body is sliding uncomfortably off the stair step-- karma sure is efficient-- as his lips hover above your knee. lucifer's lips brush the top of your bandage. he makes an obnoxious kissing sound to honor your request before unceremoniously dropping your leg, leaving you sprawled in an odd position on the steps.

"i was kidding," you whine.

"my apologies. i just wanted to make sure you healed correctly."

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

the avatar of pride is quick to repack the first aid kit and rise to his feet. you reach out for his hand to help you up. in a bout of playfulness, he instead high fives your open palm, small smirk dripping with sarcasm. of course you had to catch him in a good mood. you sigh dramatically. this time, his offer to help you stand was genuine. a quick tug of your hand and lucifer had quickly pulled your fragile human body off the steps.

"careful, mc. wouldn't want you to fall again."

"i think you'd enjoy it, actually. sadist."

"... you're probably right."

"huh?!"

your cry is indignant as he begins to exit. you chase after him without hesitation. that smirk on his face meant he was joking, right?