#I’ve been really trying to get back into writing

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

chicken scratches ☆

synopsis : katsuki tries to surprise you...but he's taking too damn long !!

an. merry christmas(if you celebrate) n happy holidays yall !! i love my boyfriend as usual,,btw have yall seen that new hori art ??? dreamy sigh my man so stupid..

cw. itty bitty manga spoilers, but otherwise nun !!

when katsuki manages to hold a pencil again and write with his right hand, it looks absolutely horrendous.

switching from writing with their left hand then back to the right one would've been disorienting for most, and it probably was for him, but he didn't show it much aside from the occasional grumble and scoff at his trembling grip. nothing ever holds him back after all.

you sigh "can i—"

"no. don't look yet." katsuki has his back turned to you, sending you a sharp glare. hunched over his little piece of paper like how he'd hide his page from kaminari's peeking eyes during an exam, always so dramatic. he turns around with a huff and you snort with a roll of your eyes.

you had come over to his room after he’d told you to, mumbling out a quick “come over.” over the phone and hanging up before you could say a word.

and so here you were. waiting.

“katsukiiiiiiii—”

“shut up,” your boyfriend grunts, his scribbling sounds harsher, in a bit more of a rush. “so damn impatient..”

“but i wanna see what you wrote !” you kick your legs up in the air, pouting at his back sitting in his office chair. “i’ve been waiting for decades to see you write with that arm again.”

katsuki scoffs out a snarky laugh “yeah, well how do you think i feel ?” you groan, whining at his dark joke, he laughs again. “just stay put. ‘m..almost done.” he trails off, focusing back on his surprisingly long task.

you do know that despite being able to use his arm again, it had gone slow—surely, but really slowly. then again, he originally wouldn’t have been able to use that arm at all, so you’ll honestly take anything.

but the excitement is getting to you, and you really wanna see what he wrote ! so slowly, surely, you quietly try to sneak the short distance to his desk to peek behind his shoulder. however, your boyfriend has some crazy spider senses.

he sighs “if i turn around and you’re not sittin’ your ass on the bed i’ll—HEY !”

busted. katsuki catches you mid creep, so close to seeing his paper until he swiftly turns in his chair. he reaches out with his left hand, reflexively, and grabs a hold of your arm.

“you can’t ever just—do what you’re fuckin’ told ! knew you were being too damn quiet ! ” he complains between gritted teeth, trying to wrestle you away from him.

“i just—wanna see !” you shriek. when he suddenly remembers he can use his right hand again, and it almost feels nostalgic the way he jams it in your side to tickle you, dropping his pencil in the process. you think you hear it rolling on the floor, but your own noises of surprise overpowered the sound. he’d really gotten better at using that arm again, you could cry if your boyfriend wasn’t actively trying to shove his entire hand inside your ribs and push you away.

during the light scuffle, his hurried movements magically make the paper fly away with a harsh whip of his arm and a gust of wind, you thank every god when you notice it, just a second before he does. you’re half sure the world slowed down as you slide down to the floor and clutch the piece of paper in your grasp like the fate of the world depended on it.

the little piece of paper makes your heart jump, with its crumpled up edges and wonky writing and all.

I love you

both the o’s are too long, his u trails off towards the end and the e looks like he'd written it with the pencil in his mouth. it looks nothing like his usual handwriting.

but it was him, unmistakably, undeniably him and all of him and all of his efforts. all his efforts coming down to this. being able to write i love you and to show you.

your heart does more than jump, it restarts in your chest.

harshly, your flipped over by katsuki. he’s red all the way down to his neck and his eyebrows twitch angrily. but his hands, both his hands are gripping your cheeks hard and pulling at them and you can’t help but laugh.

“little shit. can never jus’ lemme be romantic..” he pouts, pouts like the adorable tryharding asshat he is, and you’re so so happy. your cheeks hurt cus he's tugging at them but his right thumb is digging into your cheek. you can feel the little callous on his middle finger because he holds his pencil with too much pressure on it.

“you’re so adorable.” it tumbles out between a watery laugh before you can stop it, katsuki’s jaw ticks and he gets even redder if that was even possible—he uses his right hand to squish your nose shut mid breath so your ears pop.

“shut it, shut up. ya ruined everything.” ducking down, his teeth make contact with your cheek and your chin knocks against his when you jump with a little scream. "i literally just finished. was just about to hand it to you, but noooo—everythin' has to go your way.." he angrily mumbles into your neck.

you press a kiss to his nape and he stiffens "i'm sorry for ruining your perfect surprise." he scoffs, biting at your shoulder. "i'm really happy though, it was unfortunately very worth it."

"you're a fuckin' fiend." he spits out, and you really can't help but laugh "love you too." you snort out, and his hands, both of them squeeze your sides hard, your cheeks hurt and you can't help but laugh.

[bucketbueckers]

LAYUPS & LAYOVERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 2.9k content warnings: language, fluff, author is southern and doesn't understand how snow or marketing works, plot where there doesn’t need to be plot synopsis: It’s Christmas Eve and you’re in Connecticut, exhausted and just trying to get to Minnesota for a work conference. You could cry when it’s announced that all flights are being halted due to the incoming blizzard. Irritated, tired, and overworked, you pray for a miracle, although it takes an unnatural shape in the form of a six foot blonde athlete who’s just trying to make it home, too. Late night airport conversations lead to something more. notes: merry christmas eve from my delusions to yours! the last chapter of irp was super heavy so here's my apology and christmas gift (do i drop another one tmr...i really dont wanna write chapter 8 😩). i hope you all enjoy this short n sweet lil ramble i threw together and happy holidays 🫶

This can not be your life right now.

It’s actually kind of impressive how all of the stars aligned on this one particular night to fuck you over. You’re not a terrible person. You hold the doors for everyone, give up your seat on the bus for sweet old ladies, and you always allocate a portion of your paychecks to donate to Wikipedia. By all accounts, you should be overwhelmed with good karma, although it seems your luck has depleted on this night and this night alone.

It all started on the 20th when you flew out to Connecticut. You work a cushy job as a marketing consultant for the WNBA, which means you spend a lot of time in the air and across the country trying to unfuck – sorry, trying to optimize and rejuvenate – the state of the league and its teams. It’s a task easier said than done. Nobody seems to want to listen to you until they realize that your master’s degrees in marketing and business analytics actually mean something and aren’t just really expensive pieces of paper that you hang in your office. You spend a couple of days in Uncasville talking strategies to boost ticket sales and to gain more traction; they’re the only professional team the state has – it should not be hard to get people to show up if you can market it right, but here you are.

Connecticut is nearly a bust. It’s cold and you spend two full days in meetings getting talked over by men who think they understand numbers and branding. Then, on the third day, the front office suddenly realizes what you’ve been talking about (this shit was covered in your sophomore year intro to marketing class, but hey, the less people know, the more you get paid, so who’s really complaining?) and the trajectory of your trip makes a sudden turnaround. On the 23rd and early on the 24th, you help the Sun roll out the new optimizations, and what do you know? Ticket sales surge by 17%, including some season tickets, all is well in the world and it’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.

Then, all is suddenly not well and you remember that Christmas miracles are for people not surrounded by idiots. Your boss emails you just before you leave for the airport: The Lynx need your help. I’ve sent you tickets for the first flight out of Connecticut. Meet with them on the 26th. Said “flight” departs from Connecticut at 8:30pm on Christmas Eve, which means you’re not even in Minnesota until 12am if you’re lucky, which means you have to figure out hotel arrangements so you can take a nap because you’ve barely slept in five days, which means you have to figure out how to be nice to people again because the Sun front office has you pissed all the way the fuck off.

So, you’re tired, overworked, extremely irritated, and hungry, although that last problem is solved by airport Subway. You just hope that doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass, either – you firmly believed that you were better off betting all of your money on black rather than taking the chance on airport food, but you didn’t have much of a choice and your stomach was growling. You eat, settling in a chair at your gate, and patiently await for your plane to arrive.

Then, the overhead PA clicks on with some static noise, announcing, “Flight 932 to Minneapolis and all other flights exiting Hartford will be delayed due to inclement weather. I repeat–”

The blood rushes to your head. Your eye twitches. There’s a crying baby somewhere in the airport and you can’t take it anymore. Honestly, what’s stopping you? Flying a plane cannot be that difficult. You’re pretty persuasive. You can tell TSA you’re just young for a pilot and you’re not wearing a pilot’s uniform because it’s Christmas Eve and what are you, the feds? All you’re really asking for at this point is a nap but there’s no way in hell you’re making it to a hotel in these conditions and the chances of you sleeping in an airport with all of your belongings out for someone to grab are even lower.

A commotion towards the check in counter commands your attention. You turn, dreading the eventual crash out of an airport Karen, but it’s better than the crying baby who still hasn’t shut the fuck up.

“Please, there’s gotta be something else you can do,” a tall, broad-shouldered blonde is begging, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. “It’s Christmas Eve, I have to get home.”

The lady at the check in counter sounds sympathetic when she responds. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but our hands are tied. We can’t send our planes out in this weather, but if it eases up, the next flight out should have you arriving in Minneapolis by tomorrow afternoon.”

You hear the blonde groan, her tone sounding something like, I can’t fucking believe this is my life, which is a sentiment you whole-heartedly agree with. “Can you please lemme know if there’s anything earlier?” she pleads. “Like, if by the grace of God this weather clears and we can leave sooner.”

“Of course, ma’am. All updates will be announced.”

The response is almost robotical, but you can tell the receptionist is trying her best, too, and the last place she wants to be is hanging out at the airport on Christmas Eve. The blonde sighs, thanking her, and from the corner of your eye, you watch her hike her bag up over her shoulder and she moves to sit directly in front of you. That’s when you truly get a good look at her, at the dejected blue of her eyes, the chisel of her jaw, the logo on her hoodie. Paige Bueckers is no stranger to you. You grew up watching ball, so obviously you’re familiar with her game – any self-respecting basketball fan is. But by virtue of your job, Paige Bueckers is a name that makes your marketing heart beat just a little faster. Ever since Dallas won the lottery, you’ve been all over their marketing team. Paige’s entire existence and the chance she gets drafted to Dallas is the sole reason the Wings’ tickets are flying off the shelves. She’s the most marketable college athlete there is right now, one of the top rookie prospects for the league, but one look at her face in person and you’re forgetting all about your job. Her jaw is tight with a simmering anger, and honestly, you feel terrible for her – she already spends so much time away from her family and here she is trying to get out of Bumfuck, Connecticut, so she can be home in time for Christmas.

You find a little bit of bravery when you raise your voice slightly to ask her, “No luck?”

She looks up, glancing at you and taking in your features, and laughing slightly when she realizes you’re genuinely just trying to make conversation and not trying to get a soundbite out of her. “You heard that?” she asks sheepishly, sinking a little in her seat to get comfortable. You pretend to not notice her manspread.

“Well,” you begin, glancing over at the receptionist. “The desk is like, ten feet away.” She laughs again and nods, murmuring touche under her breath. “932 Minneapolis?” you ask, referring to your flight.

Paige nods again, quirking a smile. “You stalking me or sum’?”

You shrug your shoulders, a coy smile on your face. “Just observant,” you quip.

Paige grins fully. “What about you?” she asks. “You work for the league?”

At that, you can’t help your surprise, raising a brow. “How’d you know that?”

“Just observant,” she throws your words back at you. You laugh. “Kidding. I see your ID pokin’ out of your bag. You from here, or they got you workin’ on the holidays?”

“Work,” you respond. Paige whistles lowly. “I’m a marketing consultant. Been up here for a few days working with the Sun, then I’m heading to Minnesota to fix the Lynx’s bullshit.” You blink, registering your words, blushing as Paige laughs. “You did not hear that. I’m usually nicer to my employers.”

“They got you workin’ and flyin’ out on Christmas Eve,” Paige points out. “You should be meaner.”

You incline your head in a nod, huffing. “All of this for office potlucks and dental coverage,” you joke. “Don’t quit basketball.” Paige grins again and you’re suddenly reminded of your manners. “Sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself.” You do as such, only mildly surprised when she stands to shake your hand and introduces herself, too, which is honestly kind of endearing. Then, she plops into the empty seat next to yours, smiling widely.

“So, marketing consultant,” she says, her tone nonchalant as she gets comfortable next to you, extending her long legs across her suitcase. “How often will I get to see you?”

You glance at her, raising a wry eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me?” you ask.

Paige shrugs a shoulder, smirking. “A little. Is it working?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit. You can see the pride that shines in her eyes. You roll your eyes in amusement, still in slight disbelief, but you redirect back to her question. “Honestly, probably a lot. The league is super messy from a business perspective and their actual marketing sphere isn’t that great, either. As soon as you get drafted I’ll probably have to fly down to whichever poverty team you land at and teach them how to market you.”

“Yeah?” she asks, and despite the tease in her tone, she does seem interested. “How would you market me?”

“How much time do you have?”

“Well…” Paige glances down to her watch, then out the windows where snow falls in heavy sheets. “Looks like a lot.”

You snicker. “Alright. Bear with me, okay?” Paige nods in earnest, her attention fully on you as you begin to ramble. Truthfully, you did like your job when you were able to do it. The issue is and always will be the idiots you have to work with who overlook your credentials. “So, I’m not thinking about your personal brand at all. Like, that one’s already incredible. Your PR team did their big one with you. But the issue with athletes like you, wide-eyed and fresh out of college with an insane resume of endorsements, followers, deals, whatever – the issue is that whatever team you get drafted to is gonna want to rebuild their entire image around you. Think Clark, Brink, Reese, Jackson, Cardoso. It’s textbook – you advertise the person who’s gonna get you the most clicks, the most sales. So, how can we use that to actually grow the game, the league? I’m talking about longevity. There’s so many people tuning in for you that don’t know shit about basketball, and honestly, they’re gonna be scared to ask questions.

“So we push something corny. Social media segments with a catchy name like Ball With Bueckers or some shit where you break down basketball plays, rules, the stuff you’re gonna see and hear when you watch a game. What’s a pick and roll? A screen? Why is she getting fouled for blocking that shot, isn’t that what she’s supposed to do? Education, interest, loyalty, and competition sells. Stories sell, too, which is why the league is still trying to push the Clark/Reese rivalry. That’s old news, though. A more compelling story would have been the Fever/Sun rivalry, especially after the Sun beat the Fever and the Fever hired their coach. Or Fever/Wings, for reasons I’m not gonna ruin your night with.” Paige laughs at that, and you smile, clearing your throat and trying to find your train of thought. “So, when I’m undoubtedly called in to fix your team’s mess, that’s what I’d be suggesting. People already love you. Using that connection to get them to love ball, too, is my goal.”

“You’re really passionate about this,” Paige comments, her lips quirking into a slight smile. You can’t help but preen a little, flushing. “Like, about basketball. You really care about the sport. Feels like that’s harder to find lately.”

“Well, I was too short to play it, so gotta settle for something, right?” you joke.

Paige looks you up and down. You’re wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt from college, but her gaze is shameless, appreciative despite your casual airport wear. She chuckles, a disbelieving noise building in the back of her throat. “Nah. You’re what, 6’5?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Try a foot less. But I appreciate you for believing in me.”

Paige smiles, nudging you a little. “I was serious, though. You’re super passionate. I like that.”

“Still flirting?”

“S’not everyday you get snowed in at the airport with a pretty girl,” Paige says, her gaze warm, and you can’t help but blush again. “Gotta shoot my shot, you know?” She mimes throwing a ball, her wrist bent, and you shake your head fondly. Admittedly, she did have you – hook, line, and sinker. You enjoyed the conversation, her company. There were certainly worse people to be stuck with, but you’re glad it was with her.

You shrug your shoulders. “Shoot away,” you say. Her subsequent grin is wide and you find yourself drawn in just a little further.

She asks you virtually everything under the sun – where you grew up, where you went to college, the team you were rooting for, and you answer. You tell her you’re an Atlanta native, born and raised, although you moved up north to study at Columbia. You were 8 when the Dream was founded and that was your team, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. At 10, you watched them win the eastern conference finals on your birthday and that was easily the moment your life changed. Basketball was your future and that much was certain. She asks how you landed the league job (connections, a thick resume, and lots of persuading), how you adjusted to the constant traveling (lots of caffeine and really good concealer), and the hard-hitting question of, are you satisfied?

For that, you really had no answer. Sure, you’re always busy, and that’s better than the alternative of sitting in your office and watching the seconds tick by. You’re good at what you do and your job makes a positive impact on the league. Your colleagues will be who they are; your work speaks for itself and that’s what you pride yourself on. But there’s always going to be a small part of you that yearns for something more, like someone else to share your life with. Someone who sits, and listens, and engages with you; someone who loves basketball just as much as you do (even if it’s a different type of love), someone who’s steady and spontaneous and adaptable.

Then Paige is smiling at you, her gaze warm and soft despite the below freezing temperatures outside; she’s listening, and engaging, steady, spontaneous, adaptable, and probably the only person in the world whose love for basketball could rival your own. You’ve known Paige for all of three hours and it’s nearing midnight in an airport in Connecticut, but it’s Christmas Eve and she feels so right. You would really like to see where this goes, and judging by the way her fingertips brush your knuckles, you think she might like to see that, too.

The two of you talk all through the night, waiting for the weather to ease up. The conversation never slows and you’re certain you’ve never smiled or laughed this much in a long time. It takes you twelve hours of delirious conversation to realize that your luck never depleted. Paige was your overwhelming karma, sent by some sort of Christmas miracle to answer all of the wishes you’d kept to yourself for years. The stars aligned not to fuck you over, but to trap you in an airport with Paige Bueckers, and you find that she’s possibly the best Christmas gift you could have ever gotten.

When the weather finally clears and your plane arrives, you find that your seats are right next to each other – and, well, fate works in funny ways, doesn’t it? You’re both exhausted, but when she lowers the armrest and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into your side, you can’t help your relieved sigh, leaning into her chest. You and Paige sleep through the entire flight. You dream of soft blue eyes, the lingering scent of her cologne, the promise of how this could last.

You land in Minneapolis and you eventually have to go your separate ways. The two of you exchange numbers, saying your goodbyes, although Paige doesn’t let you get anymore than three feet away from her before she’s catching you by the wrist and pulling you into her. Her hands are cold against your cheeks as she kisses you gently, something deep and lingering and a confirmation that tastes like ‘you and I aren’t done here.’ The falling snow lands gently on your cheeks, melting under the heat of your blush, and you can’t help your smile, interrupting your kiss as the both of you dissolve into laughter. Paige kisses you again, something softer that leaves you feeling warm all over despite the chill, and you thank your Christmas miracle for leading you here.

[speakergame]

Progress Report - 12/25/24

Hello and happy holidays!

It’s been a while, huh? 😅 my apologies for disappearing on you all. Long story short, I had a severe case of tendonitis in my shoulder, and have spent the last few months heavily restricted in my ability to type or do pretty much anything on the computer. And since I’m left-handed, and it was my left shoulder, writing the old fashioned way wasn’t much of an option either. It’s been absolute hell for me, to put it lightly.

I’ve finally recovered enough to be able to get back to work… slowly. More slowly than I’d like, honestly, but it is what it is. I’m trying my best not to overdo it and set my healing back. It’s easier said than done.

Besides the speed, however, work is actually going really well! Well enough that I have the next update very nearly ready to go. I have a really bad, game-breaking bug lurking somewhere in my code that I’m trying to unravel, but once I’ve found and squashed it, I’ll be able to roll the update out to patreon 😁

Beyond that, I also have a couple mini-stories planned (akin to the Spooktacular from a couple years back), the first of which is written and mostly-coded. I wanted to have it ready earlier this month, but again, work is slower than I want it to be. In addition, I want to roll out an updated version of the Idle Hands prologue/demo to my lovely and infinitely patient patrons, and I really hope to finally, finally release the first episode of Partially Stars.

Most of all, I hope to start being more active again on tumblr and to stop disappearing for months at a time. That’s my number 1 goal for 2025.

So that’s everything I’ve got for y’all for now! I’m gonna go back to fumigating my code so I can kill this bug, and with luck I’ll have something fun for you all very soon.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, happy Wednesday to those who don’t, and a Happy New Year to everyone. Enjoy the liminal week remaining until 2025, I love you all, and thank you as always for reading 💙💙💙

[numberonetacostan]

ONE HEADCANON FOR EVERY II CHARACTER!

Hello everyone!!!!!^^ For a little holiday season special, I’ve typed out a little headcanon for every character!!! By character I mean contestants + host + assistants!!!!! Sorry to all the Nick Le fans out there, he is not included. Since everyone is here, there are characters I may not know as well as my main roster, so if I get anything like, objectively wrong, feel free to let me know!!!^^ Please enjoy!!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Apple- Her favorite song is Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan. She doesn’t really understand the lyrics but she really likes ponies!!!! I also think she’d start misspelling her name as “Appell” pretty often after she finds the song. 

Balloon- The first thing Suitcase does with her prize money is buy him a poetry book. He is so very moved by this and writes her dozens of poems with various styles he sees in the book within a few days. He’d read from the book and his own works to Suitcase every night before they go to bed. Some others could join in for a nice bedtime story :). 

Baseball- Once, while the hotel was under construction, Baseball fell down the stairs. And then kept rolling. And rolling. And bouncing. And rolling some more. Overall it set construction back two weeks and Paintbrush broke their leg trying to help stop him. Baseball was banned from the hotel until the elevators were finished. 

Bomb- He can’t eat spicy food. As in he’s banned from eating spicy food. If he gets too hot, he can accidentally set himself off, so despite his claim that he has a great spice tolerance, he is not allowed anywhere near the hot sauce. He doesn’t complain about the ban anymore post-canon, too risky, yeah? 

Bow- She watches so very many makeup tutorials, but being a ghost, can’t practice any of it on herself. That is, unless she possesses someone, like Marsh who would be very easy to put makeup on relative to other objects!!! She’d probably get pretty good at it, after some time, and Marsh would have some lovely new eyeshadow looks every day! 

Knife- He has a longer ghost tail than Dough and Bow do, so I propose him wrapping said tail around people and things he likes!!! Wraps around Pickle when they’re standing next to each other, wraps around Suitcase’s handle when they’re together, etc.!!! He’d get rather flustered if anyone called him out on it. 

Lightbulb- Gives incredible hugs. Incredible. How does an object made of glass and metal give such cuddly, warm hugs? Nobody knows. Sometimes she’ll turn herself on during the hug to make it extra warm!! As long as the person she’s hugging closes their eyes, it really elevates the already sacred experience of a Lightbulb hug. Luckily for everyone else, she is always happy to give one!^^

Marshmallow- She’s still pyrophobic after having been burnt all those years ago. As a very flammable marshmallow, fire would be scary to her anyways, but after having been roasted it’s a whole other story. She’d rather freeze than get close to a fire, but that’s not a problem since there’s a certain fruit always willing to warm her up with a hug <3!!

Nickel- He became very, very, very nervous to give his apology to Suitcase after she blew up Cobs and ate his corpse. He was planning to apologize either way, but clearly Suitcase could absolutely obliterate him if she wanted to do so, which means this apology has to be quite good or else. He has a serious amount of respect for her now. An upgrade, I’d say. 

OJ- His favorite Pokémon is Charizard. It’s orange, it’s very popular, OJ loves it. I know Justin has made a list of the contestant’s favorite Pokemon, but I have not read it in a while so Charizard it is!!!

Paintbrush- Experiments a lot with their image after season 3, mostly by dyeing their bristles with paint!!! Lightbulb helps :3!!! And by helps I mean makes it silly and very fun. Maybe she puts a little dot between Painty’s eyes to give them a “nose”. I think they’d try a solid color first, then maybe a fade, and eventually dye the nonbinary flag into their hair!!! They slay it of course. 

Paper- Pickle once wrote “Property of OJ” on Paper’s back and he didn’t notice for three days. No one told him it was there. When he asked everyone why in the world they would not inform him they said it was because they all thought OJ had written it and he was keeping it because he liked it. OJ did not know why Paper avoided eye contact with him for a week that one time but he did not like it. 

Pepper- Hotel OJ head chef. Yeah you heard me. Let me cook by letting her cook!! Salt wouldn’t like cooking, too much work, so this is something Pepper could enjoy on her own!! And it would be the sole reason that OJ has not yet kicked Salt out of the hotel- if he does than Pepper might be too sad to cook, and with the depressingly low amount of hotel residents that can make food, and the even smaller amount who are willing to make enough food for everyone, they need her. And, if Payjay help out, they can spend more time with her and get to know and enjoy her presence without Salt ruining it!

Pickle- With some help from Tea Kettle and Pepper, he makes Knife a new Dora doll post-finale, since it vanished with the rest of the stuff made by MeLife. He lets Knife possess him if he wants to hug the doll, but it also gets possessed by Knife so he can hug Pickle. Ah shit sorry my Knickle got all over the headcanon dang it. 

Salt- I headcanon her as the only cisgender, straight, alloromantic (I think that’s the right term?) member of the cast. Basically the only one who isn’t queer at all. But uh an actual headcanon for the ~60 or so Salt fans out there, both she and Pepper sleep with those little hair bonnets on to keep their salt and pepper from falling out of their heads in their sleep. 

Taco- This one is fitting for the winter season!! Taco is afraid of snow. Like, straight up terrified. I think she would grab a bunch of blankets and hide in the vents of the mansion whenever it snows, so she can be inside of the inside, as far and safe from the snow as she can be!! Having been homeless for years, she’s had some miserable experiences with hypothermia after it snows, and now that she has a home to live in, she’ll be staying inside until all the snow has melted. 

Mephone- I think he should have a pet bug post-canon. A little beetle or something that just chills on his head and feasts on the many crumbs he gets on himself while he eats. An intelligent one, like Baxter!!! Since we know Mephone will be stepping up into the more ‘big brother’ sort of role for 3GS, I think the bug would be a good outlet for Mephone to talk about his more intense feelings, specifically revolving around Mepad and the contestants. I also think, following his very creative naming of the contestants, the bug would be named Buggy. 

Box- I think she would be an insomniac. After years and years of living in an empty, timeless void-space thing, she’d have a lot of trouble getting to sleep!! She’d definitely need the whole works, warm milk, cheese, lullabies, etc., etc., just to get to sleep, and even then she probably wouldn’t sleep for very long. A lot of nightmares on this one, yeah? 

Cheesy- I think he’d actually quite enjoy eating cheese, as long as it’s not a chunk like he is. He’ll eat nachos, pizza, mozzarella sticks, grilled cheese, etc., etc., but he will not eat cheese cubes. He’d make approximately 5 cannibal jokes every time he does this, and this average goes up to 8 if Pickle is around. 

Cherries- They give Toilet their old Mepad mask post-canon, to try and make him feel better. Toilet might hang out with them a bit more after this- they can do some drawing together!! The more prank-buddies, the merrier, yeah? 

Dough- He eventually did get the recording of Bow saying that he was her brother!! Was it a cut-off version of her denying it yet again (though this time more playfully than anything)? Yes. Does that make him any less happy about having it? No. 

Fan- Out of everyone, he’s the most upset about II ending, and wants to find a new special interest!! He’d try a whole bunch of things, games, music, movies, TV shows, art, and I think it would be funny if he settled on the ii-universe equivalent of Survivor, since it was such a big inspiration for II!! He’d also occupy himself with being very interested in whatever Test Tube is doing and cheering her on!!! Also being a good Dad to Bot!!^^

Microphone- Has, on occasion, accidentally had her volume button pressed in her sleep and woke not only herself but everyone in the vicinity up with her snoring. The first time it happens post-canon it takes her a half-hour to get a very startled and scared but very sleepy and confused Taco to come out from her hiding spot under the bed. 

Soap- Her soap is french vanilla and rose scented!!! She’d find her own scent rather pleasant, yeah? I think being empty for her would have a similar effect on her as it does on objects like OJ and Test Tube, though if she’s in a real pinch she will use her own soap to get clean!! Letting someone use her soap would be a sweet gesture of love/appreciation from her!!!

Suitcase- Balloon would write her a lot of poems once they’re back together post-canon, and she’d keep them all inside of her!! She’d keep a lot of special little gifts from important people inside of her. The stone that Knife set beside her the first time they spoke on the docks, a dried flower bracelet from Box, whatever suits her fancy! (Get it? Ge- ‘cause she’s a suitcase? okay ill leave).

Test Tube- I think she would make phones for everyone post-canon!!!^^ It’s a big island, yeah? And they really need to be able to contact each other in case of emergency, with them being able to truly die now. She could make a functioning rocket out of a vending machine, I fully believe she could make however-many functioning phones out of what she can find on the island. (Or even better, Mepple HQ. I think they all should loot it.)

Tissues- He likes coding :) I personally hate coding, because I sucked at it in school and never want to look at one of those evil “easy kids coding” websites ever again. HOWEVER coding is something he could still do while he’s feeling sick, most of the time!! And we have quite a few gamers living in the hotel, so it would be a great way for him to connect with others!!!

Trophy- He always enjoyed photography as a hobby, but very much threw himself into it after being freed from the elimination closet. After months of seeing nothing but the snotty closet walls, he had a lot more appreciation for scenic and natural photographs. He’d hang a lot of them on the wall of his room to look at as he sleeps, since the rooms don’t have windows. 

Yin-Yang- This one is from my partner @galacticrain!! Because I consider them my resident yin-yang expert^^ Yang isn’t actually gluten free, like he says in season 2 episode 5, he just knew that Yin would confess to the eating of Dough if he put any ounce of pressure on him to tell the truth. 

Mepad- Another cold weather hc! As a Mepple device, he doesn’t really get cold! However, during their first winter together, Toilet worries that Mepad has no winter clothing!!! He buys Mepad one of those super fluffy, pink cases. Mepad does not take it off for months, until his systems start to overheat because of it. 

Toilet- I think he would be rather curious about what having limbs is like. He wouldn’t be particularly upset about his own lack of limbs, just curious!^^ He would ask Mepad about his legs, (try to) ask Mephone about his arms, and maybe make a little doodle of himself with a lot of limbs. A biblically accurate Toilet, if you will.

Blueberry- I like to think his white eyes glow a bit. He functions best in pitch-black darkness, yeah? So imagine you’re walking in the dark and two white eyes are staring at you from the depths. He would love scaring people with it, I think. 

Bot- Hanging out with everyone post-season 3 finale and even more so post-canon, they discover that they really do love videogames, similar to what they told Cabby!! They would absolutely dominate in fighting games, and would main R.O.B. in Super Smash Bros.!!! A fellow robot with a 3 letter name? Sign them UP. 

Cabby- She is endlessly fascinated by how Taco’s arms work. They just…go back in? How? Could she pull them out backwards? Both on the same side? Could she reverse them? Taco does not know either, and the two of them spend a full day together just trying to figure out how they work. Cabby gets a lot of new info about them, and Taco in general, after that :). I’m projecting but I think Cabby would be curious too.^^

Candle- Her meditation training post-canon is what keeps like half the cast from losing their minds after everything that happens. She is very very much needed after… all that. Meditation would help her too, of course, in the way that it usually does, but being so helpful would probably make her feel better than that. 

Clover- She was once blown across the entire island because someone dropped a penny on the ground. It was a particularly shiny penny, though, and the year was one her many, many lucky numbers!!

Goo- My little fella!!! Uh obviously he and Bot would make comics together. They like to draw, he likes to write, it’s perfect!!!! They could help him condense his writing down into a comic format as well!!! They could also make fanart and fanfics together!!! Goo would be a shipper I think he already ships Silver and Painty if you sit that little guy down in front of Steven Universe he will explode. 

Lifering- With everyone losing their immortality post-canon, he quickly becomes one of the most popular among the contestants. Twisted your ankle? Go see Lifering. Migraine? Go see Lifering. Ate the mushrooms that Taco very clearly told you were poisonous? Hurry to Lifering!! He’s happy to be of so much help, but gives some long and rather informative lectures on proper safety checks. 

Silver Spoon- Fills his room with candles. Particularly purple ones. And ones scented with lavender and chamomile. He’ll go on and on about how much he loves candles. Particularly purple ones scented with lavender and chamomile. No one can tell if Candle is trying to politely turn him down or really hasn’t noticed. He progressively gets more and more obvious with his candle collection and nearly sets a building on fire. 

Tea Kettle- #1 Nickloon shipper. I’m serious. Whether they get together or not, she ships it. I don’t think she’d be pushy about it, insistent that they get together if they’re interested in other people, but… we know silly Nickel, always chasing a Balloon. And if he needs a little help catching it, TK will be there in a flash!!!! She’d make them a little romantic picnic complete with hors d’oeuvres! 

The Floor- My guy The Floor still visits Mephone almost daily post-canon. I really don’t see the guy being super upset or holding a grudge over Mephone having made him. He’s pretty cool, if he does say so himself!!^^ And they’re buddies, anyways, so Floory would want to check in on him after his abusive father killed everyone and then was exploded!!!! He might even befriend 3GS while he’s at it :).

[iannmin]

What kinks do you think San would have? <3

KINKS SAN WOULD HAVE ⁺₊❆⋆ 최산

🏷️ ⋆ smut, drabble, intentional lowercase, size kink, praise kink, breeding kink (serious), lingerie play, somnophilia, cum play (LOTS of cum)

🗒️ ⋆ RAHHHHHH WTF I’ve been wanting to write this SO BAD!!! thank you thank you so much for the opportunity skjdkskdksk i hope both sides of your pillow are nice and fluffy every time you sleep <3333 also i just couldn’t help but put the edit of long haired san hehe

୨୧ ‘ masterlist ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆

PRAISE KINK ⋆

no offence but sannie would be on the number one priority list for those who have praise kink. like can you see how he folds and gets absolutely all squishy and subby when wooyoung praises him? like his cheeks gets all flushed and hot,, he’ll probably desire the same with his s/o, whether it’s him giving or receiving. and to be honest san is more of a soft dom, so he’ll love reassurance. just imagine every time when he’s about to enter you he will most definitely whisper softly “you can take it baby, it’s gonna open up so well for me, your pussy’s gonna feel so good, hm?” (and I’ve noticed that san loves to say ‘hm?’ after his sentence a lot in his voice lives and it drives me absolutely crazy)

SIZE KINK ⋆

sannie is a total sucker for size differences and he absolutely builds his ego off of watching his s/o squirm under his huge frame. like just picture him headlocking his s/o from behind, broad chest sticking to his s/o’s back while just absolutely pounding the fuck out of them and whispering dirty things into their ear ughh. and do you remember that one fanmeeting clip of san’s back facing the audience and wooyoung is literally holding his neck attempting to kiss him??? he’ll probably look like that coming home to his s/o from a long day of work,, kissing them at the entrance as a ‘I’m home’ type of gesture. and also,, that’s probably why san hits the gym sososo much, it’s really just to assert dominance and feel big

BREEDING KINK ⋆

don’t even get me started with this once :,) like do you guys realise how traditional san is? like in terms of family and stuff he seemed to have grown up in a very traditional household where his father was strict on him and all that. like just look at how much respect he has for his parents and how well-mannered he is,, and especially do you remember when san mentioned that if he had a daughter he would raise her in a very princess way but if he had a son he would raise him like his father did in a strict way? so anyways,, the whole point I’m making is that san would probably want to start a family early with his s/o so that they can have cute little family outings together, and he can be a dad. so that’s where the feral breeding kink comes in. like he just goes absolutely bonkers the first time his s/o let’s him hit it raw after their marriage, or even better, when he learns that his s/o wants to try for a baby, so he makes sure to absolutely fill their cunt to the fullest, even going beyond his usual stamina of two rounds because for some reason he keeps getting hard after watching his white cum seep out of their hole and dripping onto their thighs :( P.S. he might even have a sex marathon with his s/o on the week their ovulating just to maximise his chances of becoming a dad

FINGERING ⋆

okay okay, I know sannie is a clean type of person and he doesn’t really like making a huge mess, especially when you see how clean and minimalistic his dorm room is but when it comes to his s/o, all morality just gets thrown off out the window. he goes pussy drunk and fingers them until their making an absolute mess. and I’ve seen some people commenting that he has chubby hands like cheese-stick fingers but won’t they feel so fucking good when their up in his s/o’s hole? i bet the stretch is a whole lot better with thick fingers like his and it’s definitely enough to get his s/o squirming and whimpering, even squirting.

SOMNOPHILIA ⋆

sannie treats women with so much respect and probably hates non-con stuff which is a great turn-off for him. but somnophilia? that’s his jam right there. the first time his s/o told him up front that they like being fucked awake no matter when, he was slightly hesitant, but he probably discovered a whole new world right there and then when he slid his dick into their unprepped cunt, the raw feeling being absolutely addictive. so even on days when his s/o looked absolutely unsexy, wearing a pair of kiddy-looking pajamas, he will still have a great urge to pull down those cartooned pants and fuck them. he just can’t get enough of the moment when their brows finally knit together and their eyes flutter open, raising their head from the pillow just to see him wrecking their pussy open, and that’s when all senses and feelings process in their brain and they start moaning and squealing.

LINGERIE ⋆

just a bonus kink here hehe,, and not to mention sannie is not the type to rip open the lingeries because he respects how expensive they are, but he’s more of the type to push their panties to the side and fuck them <3

[fanfoolishness]

Kiss meme:

Lucanis x Rook 26

Harding x Rook 38

I did already write one for Harding x Rook for running out of time, which is here! But I hope you enjoy this extremely fluffy Lucanis x Rook for a kiss as an apology. Set directly after the dessert scene.

-

“You don’t have to walk me back to my room, you know,” Rook said, her voice rich and amused. “It isn’t far.”

“You didn’t have to say yes,” Lucanis countered, smiling as they entered the Lighthouse together. He felt as if he couldn’t stop smiling. She’d been delighted with the churros he’d made her, and even better, she’d understood what he’d really meant by them. A few crumbs of cinnamon still dusted the corners of her lips. He was seized by a sudden desire to wipe them away.

Rook makes you feel safe, Spite observed. The demon had been easier to understand since the strange trip to the shadow-Ossuary. Rook’s doing, most likely. Makes you lighter. Touch her? Keep her!

Lucanis swallowed. There was little he’d like to do more. But ah, he was being greedy… she had already told him tonight that what he did was enough. That he was enough. The memory warmed him, bolstered him in the quiet chill of the Lighthouse. It was always so still here when the others were asleep. He wondered if Rook could hear his heartbeat.

“Lucanis?” Rook asked, pausing at the foot of the stairs. She leaned against the banister, giving him a curious look, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Is Spite there?”

“You noticed,” he said, stopping one step up. “Forgive me. He chatters about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” she chuckled.

Rook likes us! Tell her. Show her!

I did! With the churros! Lucanis thought irritably. And she likes me.

I didn’t see. Chasing wisps. Tell her again!

“Still there?” Rook asked, her expression of amusement fading to faint concern. Lucanis shook his head, coming back to himself as if coming up for air.

“He is… insistent.” And perhaps not wrong. He took a small step closer to her, narrowing the distance between them.

“About what?”

“That I be honest,” Lucanis said, and before he could back away or think better of it, he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and kissed her.

He should have closed his eyes last, he realized belatedly. His nose bumped into hers, and his attempt left his lips askew, catching just the edge of her mouth. He tasted crumbs of sweet cinnamon sugar.

Then her hand was on his cheek, and she adjusted their position until her lips moved against his, warm and soft, a hint of her open mouth and tongue leaving his legs unsteady and his chest blooming with fire. She pulled away, her eyes bright, her nose and cheeks slightly pink. Was she blushing?

He took a deep, shaky breath. ”I am sorry,” he said.

Rook raised her eyebrows so high they nearly vanished. “For what? Lucanis, that was—” She grinned, giggling. “Very enjoyable.”

“For not doing it earlier,” Lucanis said, exhaling. “I wanted to. But I hadn’t — I did not know if —“ He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say about that day in the pantry. He’d known what he wanted then, but couldn’t say it, couldn’t go through with it. But things were different now.

She did make him feel safe.

He smiled back at her. “Never mind. I hope you do not mind my clumsiness. I am new at this.”

She resumed climbing the stairs, and he walked along beside her. “Well, don’t you worry about that,” she said, leaning over and nudging his shoulder as they reached the top of the stairs. “You’ve mastered assassination and cooking. I have a feeling you can master anything you put your mind to. And if you need me to help you practice, um — I’d be happy to help.” She was definitely blushing.

He felt his own cheeks warm in response. “I am looking forward to, ah, training with you.”

“Stop it,” she chuckled. “You’re terrible.”

“I’ve been told this, yes.”

They stopped in front of the hallway to Rook’s room, and she gave him a fond look. “I suppose I’d better get some rest. I do feel sleepy after that feast you made us.” She reached out, squeezing his arm gently, her touch electric in the best way. “See you tomorrow, Lucanis. Get some rest, will you? Both of you. For me?”

Lucanis laughed. A direct request from Rook? That would be enough for Spite. He could sense Spite’s glee in the back of his mind. Or was it his own? It was hard to tell right now.

“I will do my best,” he promised. He tipped his head to her in a small nod and headed back down the stairs, his hand jittery on the banister, the taste of cinnamon on his tongue.

He would certainly try to get some rest. No more coffee tonight, which would help. But this new joy flaring within him, bright and fierce and soaring, might make sleep elusive for a little while longer.

He didn’t mind a bit.

[fir-fireweed]

Hi, I played the entirety of Viatica a few hours ago, I enjoyed it, but I have one small gripe with the ending. It feels like it wasn't really earned, like no matter which choices I could've picked, I didn't work for it. It's entirely linear, like no one could've died during the rebellion ending.

Hello, thanks for giving my story a try. 😊

That’s completely valid and I hear you. There’s 2 big reasons for that. One, I don’t like reading bad endings, and I REALLY don’t like writing them. 😅 I don’t like major character death (as in MCs and ROs). I understand many people want that in their stories, and while I can appreciate a well-written tragic scene, I don’t enjoy writing one myself. Chapter 10 nearly wrecked me, lol. So that choice was self indulgent on my part.

And two, and this is a big one and kind of plays into my first reason, Viatica was a labor of love. I’ve mentioned before but it’s adapted from a novella I wrote 25 years ago. Yes, it was linear because of this. The original was never published, but not for lack of trying. And it’s always been a bit of disappoint in the back of my mind. So this was me finally publishing the story I always wanted to write. The fact that I get to share it with you all, and have the response that it has had, has been the cherry on top. Believe me, I appreciate it soo much! ❤️ But ultimately, I had a desperate need to see this story published this way.

I do plan to explore more drama and (shudder) angst in the new IF. Not all the ROs will get along, there may even be some betrayals, and MC doesn’t have to always be the good guy. I’m not sure if I’ll go full on bad ending, but we’ll see!

[something-tofightfor]

A Wonderful, Awful Idea / 1

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 10,196

Summary: Since meeting Pero Tovar through your friends William and Lin, you've wanted - and tried to get to know him. But he's always been less than enthusiastic about making it happen.

This Christmas, thanks to an assignment Pero and William take... everything changes.

Rating: M: language.

Author's Note:

I decided to write this last week and have worked on very little else since. I've always wanted to write for Pero, but have been really nervous to do so. He seemed like the perfect Christmas Grump to get the "discovering the true joy of the season" Hallmark-ish treatment. @oonajaeadira says that if he doesn't fight you the whole way when you try to write him, you're doing it wrong - and let me tell you, he's been a menace, so ... we'll see.

There are going to be three parts to this. The second is almost completely written, and the 3rd should be close behind. I'm sorry it won't be done by Christmas like I planned, but it is what it is.

The title comes from Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Thank you for reading, and happy holidays!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

“You want me to what?” You froze with one hand on a hanger, turning your head to look at your friend. “Repeat that, please.” 

“I think you should be Tovar’s date for the holidays.” Lin shrugged her shoulders, flipping through a rack of long sleeve, button down shirts. “He’s single and you’re single, you’ve said you think he’s hot, and you know what they do, so he wouldn’t have to lie about it.” 

You stared at her, dumbfounded, as Holly Jolly Christmas blared out through the store’s sound system. There’s more to it. “Tell me the truth.” You set the hanger back on the rack, stepping closer and crossing your arms. “Why does he need a date? Isn’t his work … private? Like, they’re not exactly supposed to be in the public eye, or -”

“That I can’t tell you. You’d have to talk to William about it.” She sighed, finally looking over at you. “But what I can tell you, is that I’ve been listening to my husband complain for a week that none of the women he’s reached out to will agree to do it because his best friend is kind of a grump.” 

“So why would I?” You scoffed. “Tovar is … I think we’ve spoken about twenty words to each other in the three years I’ve known you. He isn’t exactly friendly, Lin. Why would I want to spend the holiday season with someone that hates me?”

“He doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t really hate anyone, he just doesn’t trust people, and doesn’t know how to … be gentle about saying it.” She held up a dark blue shirt, arching a brow. “How’s this one for William?” 

“It’s a good color.” You sighed. “I think he’ll like it.” She beamed at you, draping the fabric over her arm. “Lin, this thing with Tovar, what is it? Really, I mean. Why are you suggesting this?” 

“Because you’re both my friends. And I think it would be good for you.” She moved closer, reaching over to take your arm. “And good for him, too. He’s like that movie, the one with the Grinch?” You laughed at that, and she joined you, her fingers curling against your sleeve. “He just needs to find a reason to soften up.” 

Two days later, you were sitting in Willam and Lin’s lavishly decorated living room, waiting for him to come downstairs and talk to you. It’s just curiosity. You looked around the room, eyes lingering on pictures of you with the two of them, reminders of memories you’d made together on vacations and at parties. I just want to know what this is about. 

And when you found one that included Tovar, too, you lingered there, frowning slightly as you chewed on the inside of your lower lip. “Nobody should look that upset sitting in front of a Christmas tree.” William stepped into the room, holding two mugs in his hands. “Lin said you’d drink this.” He set one down in front of you and then sat on the chair next to the couch you were on. “Thank you for coming over.” 

“No problem.” Sighing, you reached for the mug and lifted it to your lips. He did the same, and then for a few seconds, William just watched you, a thoughtful expression on his face. I don’t like that look. “What’s this about?”

“To make a long story short,” he started, one side of his mouth twisted upward into a smile. “Tovar and I have a client for almost the entire holiday season that needs … extra protection.” That wasn’t a shock; they were in private security, and commonly took on high profile clients. “She’s got her own team, but they want local backup. Tovar and I will provide that, but to do so, and to make it look less… well.” He rolled his eyes. “Less like she’s got a ton of people surrounding her at all times and more like he’s here celebrating the holiday, the plan is for us to attend the same events like we’re guests. That way we can be there if necessary.” 

“Is Lin going with you?” He nodded. “Won’t you be distracted by her?”

“Yes and no.” He leaned in, linking his fingers together. “We’re supposed to blend in, but we’ll be connected to the main team at all times with earpieces.” He wet his lips. “Unless we’re actually needed, we’ve just got to be on-site.” It didn’t sound terrible, and you assumed that if the client was famous, the events would be fun - and probably have good food. “You would be there to keep him occupied. You’d be there to make it look like he wasn’t just hanging around and waiting for something terrible to happen.”

“As his date.” William nodded twice, eyes locked with yours. “Does he know about this?”

“Yes.” William blinked. “Lin suggested you last weekend as a joke, and he didn’t … he didn’t react the way that he has to other people’s names.” What? That made no sense to you. We’ve barely spoken. He’s never gone out of his way to talk to me. “It’s a paying job, of course. And it pays well, since it requires an NDA and multiple nights. I’ve drawn up the contract for you to take a look at. It’s standard, and what we’ve offered to other people in your position, but you can tell me what you think.” 

He shuffled a few of the papers on the table in front of you and then pushed a small stack at you, gesturing with one hand. He had it waiting? 

William stood, letting you know that he’d give you a few minutes to read over it in case you had any questions, and then left you alone in the room. “What the fuck?” You stared at the tree for a few seconds, thinking… and then picked up the contract and began to read. 

When William came back into the room about fifteen minutes later, you’d pulled a pen from your bag and made notes on the papers, crossing things out and jotting down a few ideas. “I see you’re making changes.” He laughed, settling back into the chair. “Does that mean you’re interested?” 

“Only if they can be accommodated.” You handed over the contract and leaned back, taking a deep breath. “The timing of the events means I wouldn’t have to miss work to attend them, so there aren’t lost wages to make up for.” He nodded. “I’ll sign the NDA, but there’s no way I can accept the amount in there. That would make me feel like you were paying me to spend time with Tovar, and I don’t like the implication of that.” 

William raised his head to look at you and you were surprised to see an alarmed glint in his eyes. “That’s not what it is. You’d be paid for spending part of your day working, not just for -”

“I’ll accept payment in the amount of whatever costs I accrue for the job.” You held up a finger. “Clothes, shoes, transportation, if I needed to get my hair done or anything like that. If I had to make a donation to get into the party, I assume that it’d be a substantial amount that I’d rather not be out, but …” You swallowed, thinking of Tovar’s dark eyes. “Spending time with him isn’t something you need to pay me for, William. My pay can be TBD based on what I have to spend in order to meet the parameters of the job.” 

“Of course.” He kept looking through, and then laughed when he got to the end, where you’d scribbled a longer note. “Unfortunately I don’t think I can meet that request. You’d have to talk to Tovar about that.”

“I know. It’s just …” You looked down, picking at the cushion of the couch with one hand. “I just don’t know how we’re supposed to play it off like we’re dating if he won’t speak to me, William. I can only pretend so much when the other person acts like they’d rather be anywhere else.”  

“I’ve offered this job to two women already.” He set the papers down and reached up to rub at his jawline. “And they’ve both said no, because the amount I offered wasn’t worth it to have to deal with his moods.” He cocked his head to the side. “And you … are offering to do it for less, but only if I can promise he won’t scowl the entire time.”

“I am.” You gestured to the one of the pictures of the three of them. “There’s got to be more to him than that. I can see it in pictures and I’ve heard him laugh, William. I know it’s in there. Maybe it just needs an opportunity to come out.”

“It does.” He leaned forward, reaching out to set a hand on your knee. “He’s my best friend, and he’s been through a lot. I don’t blame him for a lot of his behavior, and I don’t think others would if he let them get to know him.” William sighed. “I’ll make the changes you’ve requested, and email you the new one to sign virtually. The NDAs will be signed as soon as the client gets here. But… how would you feel about meeting with us and Tovar for dinner?” 

“Why?” William raised both eyebrows, staring at you. “When?”

“Tomorrow? We’ve got plans already, and you’re more than welcome to come.” 

There was no reason for you to say no. You’d have to spend at least three nights with him throughout the course of the contract, and starting early - on a night with nothing to lose - would possibly help the two of you become more comfortable around each other. And I’d like that. “What time and where?” 

“I’ll have Lin text you.” He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Excellent.” 

“Wait. William.” You released a slow breath, closing your eyes. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell him that you’ve already asked me. You know I said yes. But I think … it might be better if it seems like it’s a spur of the moment thing. That way I can see if … how he reacts when I’m right there.” He watched you for a few seconds, and you saw him narrow his eyes, lips turned down into a slight frown. 

“That might be a good idea.” He cleared his throat. “Ok. That’s what we’ll do.” 

The restaurant that you met them at the following day was nothing special; just a local place that had - according to almost everyone that had eaten them - the best chicken wings in the city, and some of the coldest beer to go with them. 

But when you pulled the door open to step inside, you learned something else: they’d turned the interior into a winter wonderland for the holiday, complete with fake snow and hundreds of twinkling lights hanging from almost every available surface. Oh, he’s going to hate this. 

You found the table immediately, and were thankful to see that Lin and William were sitting across from each other, leaving the other two seats at the table open. She waved you over, and when you lowered yourself into the chair beside her, she reached over to squeeze your hand, giggling as she did. “I thought you weren’t going to come.” 

“I said I’d be here.” You said hello to William, too, and then gestured to the empty chair next to him. “Where’s -”

“He got a phone call.” William rolled his eyes. “He went to take it in his car.” It gave you a few minutes to prepare for Tovar’s entrance, and as you and the Garins looked over the menu and made small talk, you were thankful for it. 

The truth was that Tovar’s behavior toward you had always bothered you. 

Not because it made you angry, but because it was frustrating. You’d never given him any reason to avoid you, and had been nothing but nice to him since the first day you’d met. You understood that it wasn’t just you; he took a long time to warm up - even slightly - to anyone. While his personality was likely beneficial to the work he did, giving clients reassurance that he was focused on the job and didn’t allow distractions, it wasn’t as helpful in everyday life. And it can’t be good for his love life.

So when you knew that the two of you would be somewhere together, you needed time to prepare, because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that it bothered you that he didn’t ever give you a chance. You didn’t expect to become best friends, but it would have been nice to be able to hold an actual conversation with him that didn’t feel like pulling teeth to get responses. 

You felt him before you saw him, his presence almost imposing as he approached the table and walked next to you to reach his seat. Even though William was still talking, your attention shifted. 

He wasn’t scowling when he dropped into the chair, but his face was impassive, his dark eyes darting around the room before they landed on your face - and then kept moving. “Phone call go alright, Tovar?”

“Yes.” He nodded, shrugging a shoulder at William. “Just business. They wanted to talk about the new client.” 

William hummed but didn’t say anything else, instead reaching for the menu in front of him and opening it. To your surprise, Tovar pushed one of the two laminated pieces of paper toward you before picking his own up, though he didn’t make eye contact again. You felt Lin’s foot knock into yours and fought back the roll of your eyes - but the truth was that the single, simple gesture was enough to make you think back to what both she and William had said earlier. Maybe he doesn’t hate me. 

After the waitress took your order and brought out a round of drinks, conversation began again. At least for three of us. Tovar silently watched the rest of you talk to each other, two fingers tapping against the tabletop. There were a few moments where it seemed like he wanted to interject, but it wasn’t until Lin spoke to him directly that you heard his voice again. 

“Did you find anyone to come to the party with you, Tovar?” She rested her chin on her hand, her attention fully on him. “William said -”

“No.” He sipped his drink, brow furrowed. “I am going alone.” He spoke with an accent, each word punctuated with purpose. “Maybe I will be a third wheel for you two.” Did he make a joke? You couldn’t believe it, but when Pero continued speaking, you felt your eyes widen. He did. “I can spike the punch, or -”

“You know, there’s an obvious solution to you taking a date. We talked about it last weekend.” William turned slightly in his seat, gesturing at you with one hand. “I think all you’d have to do is ask.” The shift in conversation took you by surprise, but you figured there was no point in putting it off. Here goes nothing. 

“You do realize I’m right here, William?” He winked at you and then laughed, holding both hands out. “Is there a party I don’t know about, Tovar?” When you said his name, his gaze shifted to you, and instead of looking away immediately, he maintained eye contact. Oh. “Don’t let him put you on the spot.” Smiling at him, you reached for your cup again. “But -”

“For work.” He nodded once, and you caught the tightening in his jaw. “The client I mentioned earlier.” It was a start - full sentences were a change of pace, and you felt a shiver of excitement at the way he was looking at you; like he was actually seeing you for the first time. “William and Lin want me to take someone, but I have found no one to ask.” 

You focused on his lips as he spoke, the sound of his voice soothing. You liked hearing it - liked the cadence of it, and the sincerity in his tone. Maybe it’s a good thing he’s never talked to me before. “When is it?” 

“Christmas Eve.” Lin cut in, resting her hand on your arm. “And it’s really fancy. But there’s other stuff before then, too. The client they’re talking about, she -”

“She cannot know.” Tovar leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “The more details we give, the more dangerous it -”

“She’s not dangerous.”  Lin exhaled, waving one hand. “And if she goes with you, she’s going to need to know something.” 

“No one’s asked me to go anywhere.” You spoke quietly, looking between the two of them. “But I don’t have plans on Christmas Eve.” You cocked your head to the right, attention back on Tovar. “So maybe I could fourth wheel.” Lin laughed again, but neither Tovar or William spoke up. 

You’d done your part - admitting in a roundabout way that you were open to acting as his date… and it was up to him to decide whether or not he wanted to act on it.  If he didn’t, William would have to go over his head and force the situation, and that was the last thing you wanted. Giving him an option was one thing, but making a choice for Tovar? He’d never speak to me again after that. 

The thought made you uncomfortable, and you hoped that none of them could tell. 

Luckily for you, the food arrived then, giving all four of you a distraction - and William another opportunity to tease Tovar about the amount of wings in front of him. 

“What? I am hungry.” He huffed. “It is not my fault that you didn’t order as many.” That made you chuckle, and you caught the way he looked back at you briefly before you dropped your eyes to your own plate, lips pressed together. “And just so all of you know… I don’t share.” 

You laughed out loud then, looking up and meeting his eyes - and if you weren’t mistaken, you saw the most fleeting hint of a smile on his lips before he reached into the basket, picking up his first piece of chicken.

Maybe there’s hope for this yet. 

All of you walked out into the parking lot together, William and Lin holding hands and you and the other man on either side of them. They veered off to the left after saying goodbye, William catching your eye and mouthing good luck before he turned away… which left you and Tovar alone. 

“I’m parked over that way.” You pointed. “So it -”

“I am too.” He gestured with one hand. “We’ll walk together.” It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and even though neither of you said anything as you approached your car, you noticed that he stayed closer to you than he had been before. “This is your car?” He stopped and pointed. “I remember it from William’s.” 

It stunned you that he’d paid enough attention to what you drove to remember which one was yours in the full lot, but you murmured in agreement, turning so that you could lean against the back end of it. “It is, yeah.” You eyed him, watching as Tovar stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark gray coat, the ends of his hair blowing slightly in the breeze. “Have a good night, Tovar. Dri-” 

“Did you mean it?” He shifted from one foot to the other, eyes narrowing. “About going to the party?” 

“I did.” You nodded along with your words. “Lin mentioned it to me the other day while we were shopping, she seems excited.” 

“You would go with me?” He inhaled, holding his breath. “And stay with me at the party, like we were -”

“On a date?” You pressed your lips together, watching as he gave a single nod. This is hard for him. “I would. I know it wouldn’t be a real date, but… we could pull it off, Tovar. Especially if you had to do it for work.” 

“There…” He cleared his throat. “There are two other events that I need to be at, too. Would… could you …” He looked down and then away, turning his head to give you a clear view of his profile. You stared at it, trying to memorize the slope of his nose and the line of his jaw, Tovar’s mouth set into a pensive pout. “Lin will be with William, and I am supposed to…” He looked back at you. “Having someone with me would be good.” 

“Yes. On one condition.” 

“Go on.” He inched closer, the surprise evident in his eyes. “Please.” 

“I know you don’t like me much, Tovar, but … if we’re going to multiple places together, and we’re supposed to be together, I’ll need you to pretend like you want to be around me.” You gestured between you with one gloved hand. “This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had, and we met three years ago. I need more of this, and less of your two word responses and you looking like you want to snap at me.” 

“You think I don’t…” He lowered his head and swore, pulling his hands free from his pockets. “Alright. I can do that.” He held out a hand, waiting for you to take it. His fingers closed around yours, Tovar sighing as you shook hands. “And you should call me Pero. Tovar is what William has always called me, but …” He squeezed your hand again and then released it. “That does not sound right for a date.” 

You agreed - and wondered if he could see the surprise in your expression. No one called him by his first name; even Lin referred to him as Tovar. So I wonder why he’s … hmm. “Ok, Pero.” You bit your lip, watching as his cheek twitched at the sound of your voice. “What’s the first thing we need to be at?” 

“There is a charity event next week.” He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “And then a concert the week after, and the party on Christmas Eve.” This is spread out, Jesus. “If you give me your phone number, I can send you more information.” 

You agreed and he pulled out his phone, waiting for you to recite the number for him. You felt your phone vibrate a few seconds later as he confirmed that he’d sent you a message, and then Pero sighed, closing his eyes. “Will this make your job easier?”

“Yes.” He pressed his lips together. “And it will get William off my back, too.” You laughed, covering your mouth with one hand as you stared at him. Another joke? “It’s getting late. I should go.” 

It really wasn’t, but you understood that he was trying to end the conversation gracefully, and so you let him, looking down at your bag and digging for your keys. “Goodnight, Pero.” Fingers wrapping around the metal, you raised your gaze again, meeting his eyes. “I’m looking forward to next week.” 

That got you another smile, and it lingered for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and stepped back turning on one heel and heading further down the line of parked cars. He stopped when he was about ten feet away, looking back over his shoulder at you. “You’re wrong, by the way.” About what? He closed his eyes and straightened his shoulders before continuing. “It isn’t that I don’t like you, it’s… more complicated than that.” 

It sucked the breath from you, and all you could do was stare at him. What? Luckily, Pero didn’t say anything else before he resumed the journey to his car, leaving you standing behind yours. What just happened? 

You hurried to the door and then sat down, putting both hands onto the wheel after you started your car, fingers gripping it tightly. You had plenty of questions, and wondered if he’d actually answer any of them. I think he will. I think he… I think he does want to talk. 

You hoped that you were right. Reaching for your phone, you typed out a quick text to William. 

 Send over the new contract. I’ll sign it. He asked me.  

Whatever happened with Pero would likely test not only your patience, but your self control… and you couldn’t wait. 

He texted you a few times throughout the following week, and while the messages weren’t quite friendly, they weren’t cold, either. 

He filled you in on the events, even though the information that William sent over with the contact did, too. 

The first one was casual, a charity fundraiser where the client would be in attendance and raising money for local organizations by hosting an auction and early dinner. 

The second event, the concert, would require you to go to a meet and greet with Pero, that one held in the club level of the venue, followed by attending the actual show as part of the crowd. 

The final event was a party on Christmas Eve, which was meant to welcome a mix of the people that the first two events set out to benefit, as well as higher-end donors and other people of the singer’s status. 

Each of the events was highly publicized, and people in your city had been looking forward to them for weeks, along with the boom in business that people coming in for the events would bring. You felt a surge of pride in the center of your chest that William and Pero had been chosen to act as local security. Even though you knew there wasn’t a high chance of anything happening where they were needed, you were certain that they could meet the challenge if necessary. 

But on the night before the fundraiser, you were anxious about the following day. 

It wasn’t the event, or that you’d be in the presence of a celebrity for a few hours. It was that during those few hours, you’d be one on one with Pero Tovar, trying to pretend like you hadn’t just started speaking actual words to each other. 

So before you could second guess yourself you picked up the phone and dialed his number, pressing the device against your ear as it rang. He answered almost immediately, tone clipped as he said your name. “You are calling to cancel.” 

“No. I… what?” Inhaling through your nose, you whipped your head back and forth, even though he couldn’t see you. “No, I was calling to see if … if you wanted to meet up tonight for an hour so we could talk.” 

“Talk? About what?” 

“About some of the basic things we’d know if we were actually on a date tomorrow.” You bit the inside of your lip. “Nevermind. We’ll just do a crash course before we go in to the fundraiser. Have a -”

“I’ll pick you up.” He coughed, and your mouth dropped open in surprise. “Send me your address.” 

You hung up moments later, typing out the information and pushing send. He replied that it would only take him about 20 minutes to get there, and you nearly dropped your phone. Oh, shit. 

There was no time to get ready - no time to do anything more than brush your teeth and check your clothes to make sure that you looked presentable, and pull on a pair of thick socks before you shoved your feet into boots. He’d taken you by surprise with his suggestion, but you were excited for the opportunity. And if he suggested it, then it means he wants to talk. 

Lights shining in your front window alerted you to Pero’s arrival, and after grabbing your wallet, keys, phone and a coat, you headed out to meet him, hurrying toward the passenger side of his car. 

Before you could touch the handle, the door popped open, and when you pulled it further, you peered in in time to see him sit back up, his right hand returning to the steering wheel. “Hi, Pero.” Climbing in next to him, you turned your head to look at him. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Sure.” He nodded, putting the car into reverse once you’d buckled in. “Where would you like to go?” You thought for a few seconds and then decided, hoping it was a good choice. 

“That 24 hour coffee shop would be good. There are tables and no one will bother us.” 

He agreed with a nod of his head, and for the few minutes it took to get there, you and Pero sat in silence. He paid attention to the road and you paid attention to him, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he drove. There was plenty that you wanted to say, but you didn’t want to distract him; it was likely a huge step for him to have invited you out, and you figured he was focused. We’ll talk over coffee. 

The parking lot was full, but he found a spot after only one circle through it. After crossing the parking lot to the entrance, you went to open the door. Pero inched forward and then reached past you, mumbling that he’d get it. Ok. That’s fine with me. You thanked him as you entered, going straight to the line to place your order. 

It didn’t surprise you when Pero ordered a large black coffee, but it did surprise you when he paid for both of your drinks, passing over a handful of cash to the barista and telling him to keep the change. 

And when you led him to a booth in the back, sinking down onto one of the plush cushions after taking your coat off, you waited until he was seated, too, to speak again. “Thank you. You didn’t have to -”

“We are supposed to be dating, right?” He blinked a few times, head shaking back and forth. “It’s just a coffee.” 

He was right - technically - but it was also something that he hadn’t needed to do because that night wasn’t a date. “I don’t want to keep you out late, I just …” 

“What do you want to know about me?” He wrapped both hands around his cup, and your eyes were drawn to them. Tiny scars criss-crossed his skin, the healed areas a slightly lighter shade than the rest of it. “Ask.” 

“When is your birthday?” You led with something simple, taking a sip of your own drink. “What’s your favorite food? Where are you from? Do you like movies or TV, and if you do, what do you watch?” He seemed stunned by your questions, and you wondered what he thought you’d lead with. “We obviously aren’t going to be one of those PDA couples, but is it alright if I touch your hand or your arm or -” 

“My birthday is in June. The 9th.” He narrowed his eyes. “I like all food, but if I had to choose a favorite, it would be sweet things.” 

“Then why did you order your coffee black?” Pointing with one finger, you cut in. “You could have added sugar or caramel or -”

“Because I always do.” He looked down and then back at you. “I was born in Spain, but moved to the United States when I was very young. I don’t watch many movies, but when I do watch TV, I like shows about history.” He paused. “And home improvement.” You smiled at that admission, thinking of Pero doing construction or household maintenance. “I live in a small house a few minutes from Lin and William.” 

“That’s good. It’s helpful.” You flattened one hand on the tabletop. “Would you like to know anything about me?”

“I already know some things.” His eyes flicked to the right and he lowered his shoulders, but when Pero looked back at you, you saw determination in them. “Would you like to know what I know?” Lips lifting into a smile, you gestured for him to continue - and he did. 

Pero knew your birthday and your parents names. He knew where you worked and where you’d gone to school. He knew what shows you watched, what you liked to eat, and who your celebrity crush was. How? How could he possibly know this? “Did you talk to Lin? Did she -”

“No. You put too much information online.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I just typed your name and things came up.” The matter of fact way he spoke to you made you laugh, but as soon as the sound erupted from your lips, he flinched. Shit. “You laugh at me.” 

“No, I just…” Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Hearing it all laid out like that is … weird.” He spun the coffee cup between his hands, keeping his eyes on you. “It’s right, but it’s still…” You didn’t know how to explain it; the way he’d recited the facts to you, it just made you seem typical. 

“Why did you agree to do this?” He finally took a drink of his coffee, tipping his head back slightly and giving you a glimpse of this throat as he swallowed. “To let me pretend with you?” 

“Do you want me to be honest?” He agreed with a single yes, leaning back in his seat as he waited. Here goes nothing. “You’ve always been a mystery. We’ve been in the same place at the same time a lot since we first met, and I’ve always gotten the impression that you were just … uninterested in being friends.” He frowned, but didn’t interrupt. “I’ve tried. I don’t know if you realize it, but I’ve tried to talk to you. I’ve tried to get to know you, and you just…” Sliding your hand up and down your forearm, you finally looked away, staring at the table. “This seemed like an opportunity to make it happen. And that makes me sound like an asshole, but -”

“You are not an asshole. That would be me.” He cleared his throat and said your name, the frown gone from his face but replaced with concern. “Making friends is not easy for me, and so I made the choice to keep people away on purpose.” He gestured to his face, fingertips following the line of the scar that slashed across one side of it. “This makes it easier.” 

“Pero, it -” You felt your chest constrict at the thought that he viewed his appearance as a reason - and a way - to further isolate himself. “If I had my way, we would have had this conversation a long time ago.” 

“You did not ask.” He gestured to the scar again. “Everyone always asks. But even when we met for the first time, you didn’t mention it.” 

“Because that’s rude.” Tilting your head to the side, you chewed on your lower lip. “If you wanted to tell me or anyone what the cause of it was, you would.” That took him by surprise, and you could tell by the widening of his eyes that he hadn’t expected any combination of those words to come out of your mouth. But it’s the truth. “I’d love to get to know you. And if I can do that and help you with a job, that’s even better.” 

He stayed silent, turning his head toward the window. After a few seconds, you did the same. It was late but there were still people on the street, and since you’d gotten to the coffee shop, it started snowing. It wasn’t coming down hard; instead, the sky was spitting snow almost lazily, the flakes falling down to land on the existing piles from the previous snowfall. “Do you want to know why I said it was complicated the other night?” 

“Yes.” The answer was automatic, and through his reflection in the glass you watched as he straightened up, shifting until he was facing forward again. What is he going to say? You turned back, too, waiting. 

“It’s complicated because I want to know you. I have wanted to. But why would you want to know me?” He scoffed. “You know what I do for a living. What I have done, and how I have treated you. Every time you tried to talk to me, I had to force myself to remain quiet. If I answered you it would have encouraged you. If I encouraged you, it would be so much harder to -”

“Wait. Pero, wait.” Your heart racing, you leaned in. “Are you trying to tell me that this whole fucking time, you’ve been … you don’t hate me? You’re just … like this because you thought your interest had to stay one-sided?” It took a second but he nodded, the frown back. Oh, you silly man. You groaned and put both hands over your face before taking a deep breath. “Pero, I’m friends with William, too, and he does the same thing you do for work. Why would you think it’s any different?” 

“Because I’m dangerous. William does not like to get his hands dirty. I don’t mind.” You believed him - or at least believed that he believed what he was saying. “People look at me, and they see…” He gestured to himself. “It frightens some of them. Others just stare. But I use that to my advantage.” 

“Neither of those things apply to me.” It was your turn to frown. “Let me be very clear, Pero. I agreed to this, to help you, and expected nothing. I hoped, though, that at the very least, we’d come out of it friends.” His eyes were narrowed and he was scowling, but there was something new there, too, and it gave you courage to continue. “And I know that you do have to work while we’re at these events, but if … if you wanted to use them as actual dates? I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t say no.” 

 He blinked slowly, and the scowl morphed into a look of disbelief. “You wouldn’t?” Shaking your head, you waited, the moment stretching between you. If he denied you, you’d have to spend three nights with him knowing that you’d laid it out and he’d chosen to ignore your admission - and his own feelings. But if he agrees… “Give me your hand.” He flipped one of his over, holding it out to you, palm up.

It was the second time you’d touched him, but when you reached across the table and laid your fingers against his, you sucked in a breath. His hands were warm, and when Pero’s fingers curled around yours and pulled back toward himself, you looked up at his face. His lips were parted, and Pero was staring at your joined hands like he’d never seen anything like them before. “Pero?” 

“You can hold my hand.” He squeezed your hand, nodding. “Tomorrow? We will be walking around a lot, and it might look … strange if we didn’t at some point.” That made sense to you, and you told him as much. “I also…” He groaned, his thumb rubbing against the outside of your pinky. “Since I have to be alert, it might be easier if I put my arm around your shoulders, or -” 

You moved without letting him finish, pulling your hand free so that you could stand. He watched you intently, sitting up and leaning back against the booth. Is this a bad idea? Probably. Definitely. 

You’d made progress with Pero in the previous few minutes, and your action had the potential to derail all of it. But when you sat next to him and turned your head, arching a brow, you were confident. “You can try it out now.” Something flashed in his eyes then, and for a split second, you thought he was going to say no. 

Instead, Pero raised his arm and slipped it behind you and across the top of the booth. “You’re sure?” 

“Yeah, Pero.” You held your breath but didn’t look away, and then his arm went around you for the first time, the weight of it heavy across your back. You didn’t know if he did it on purpose, but when his hand settled against your  shoulder, fingers curling against it, he nudged you closer, your body pressed to his side. “See? That’s not so bad, is it?”

“Not at all.” It was the closest you’d ever been to him, and as you stared into Pero’s eyes, you realized that it would be easy to get used to being that close to him. “It has been a long time since…” He took a deep breath. “Since I have let myself touch someone like this.” 

It seemed unbelievable to you that someone who looked like Pero could be successful at keeping someone determined away from him. But look at how he’s been with me. And if what he said was true - that he worked hard to make sure no one got close - you had to assume that his behavior toward you had been less overt than with others. Because I’m friends with Lin and William. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get rid of me easily. 

“Can I ask you something?” It was voiced with reluctance, but the question was answered with a yes. Ok. Here goes nothing. Wetting your lips, you were emboldened by the way his eyes dropped to follow the movement of your tongue. “Why? Women like dangerous. They like dark, mysterious men. A lot of them like men they feel like they have to work on before they open up, and -”

“Is that what you are doing?” He leaned closer, searching your face and lowering his voice. “This because I am dark and mysterious? Because you want a challenge?” 

“Not entirely.” You drew in a shaky breath, knowing that he was aware of the effect he had on you in such close proximity. “I’m doing it because I think you’re worth it. Lin and William wouldn’t be friends with you if you weren’t, and -” 

“Liar.” He smiled then, the growl in his voice making you shiver. “You are one of those women that like to be challenged.” 

You groaned at his words, jabbing your elbow into his side and scooting away. Pero’s hold on you loosened as you stood, putting a hand on your hip. “Fine. I admit it. But, if you’d said no to this, or if you’d said yes but just wanted to keep things professional and focused on work, I wouldn’t have fought you.” You paused and then winked, relishing in the way he inhaled sharply. Gotcha. “I can take no for an answer, but I’m glad it doesn’t seem like I’m going to have to.” 

You sat again, reaching for your cup and taking a long sip. None of what had happened was expected - but things had gone much better than you’d anticipated. And that’s a good thing. Because now even if things are awkward, they’ll be awkward because we’re figuring it out, not because - “That is enough for tonight, I think.” He reached up, scratching the side of his head. “I have to meet the client tomorrow morning. Early. And then I have to come and pick you up, and -”

“Oh, you’re picking me up again?” He nodded, eyes locked with yours. “I thought I’d drive over myself, and -”

“No. We stay together.” His tone was firm. “The whole time.” Ok then. 

Raising your cup and tipping it in his direction, you gave him a wide smile. “Sounds perfect to me, Pero.” 

While you got ready the following day, you replayed the end of your coffee “date” with Pero over and over in your head. 

You hadn’t stayed out much longer, but the drive back to your house wasn’t quiet. Instead, you talked the entire way. It was mostly about Lin and William, but it was still progress. And when he’d parked in your driveway, he’d paused before saying goodnight, followed by the sound of your name in a voice so low you barely heard it. 

He’d reached for your hand, fingers curling around yours as he lifted it to press a kiss to your knuckles. That took you by surprise, but instead of voicing that surprise, you only bit down on your lip and squeezed his hand back before letting go and telling him to let you know when he was on the way the following day. 

Compared to other first dates you’d been on, Pero’s behavior was tame. 

He’d made no move to actually kiss you, hadn’t even suggested a physical attraction or a desire to stay close after you’d moved to sit next to him and essentially forced him to practice putting his arm around you. 

But you went to bed feeling hopeful about the three dates you’d go on with him. You were interested in seeing if you could get him to open up more. You wanted more nights like the time you’d spent in the coffee shop with him, but with less distance between you. 

You’d always been attracted to Pero, and his attitude hadn’t done what he’d likely hoped it would. Instead of scaring you off, it made you cautious about the way you approached him, but no less interested. You weren’t hung up on him, but there’d always been a part of you that wondered what would - or could - happen if he let you in even a little. 

You’d asked Lin once during a girl’s night, the two of you wrapped in cozy blankets on her couch with snacks in front of you and a rom com playing on the TV, why he was so distant. She hadn’t been able to  give you an answer, aside from “he does it to himself”, but you’d seen the way her lips twisted into a frown as she spoke, sadness flitting across her features. You were curious about Pero’s scar, as you imagined everyone was, simply because of its position on his face, and how deep it looked. 

It wasn’t a lie that his demeanor was attractive to a lot of women; what you had lied about was the way you felt about it. He would be a challenge, no matter how you looked at it, but with anyone else, the amount of time and effort he’d put into trying to push you away would have been a total turnoff. But not with him. 

After gathering your things, you headed into your living room, sitting on the couch and checking the time. You expected his text within the following few minutes, but since there was nothing else to do, you leaned back against the cushions and closed your eyes. 

The event that day was the fundraiser, and with the advertising you’d seen for it over the previous few weeks, you knew it was going to be a lot. Pero and William’s client was a celebrity that also dabbled in singing, and the fundraiser featured items from throughout her career up for sale, along with opportunities to do things like attend premieres, have VIP at one of her future shows, and to meet - and spend time with - her and her costars on a set in the new year. 

It would raise a lot of money, but it would also bring a lot of people into the area - and the need for updated security wasn’t a surprise to you. And they’re the best. They probably won’t be needed, but they’re the best. 

Your phone vibrating startled you out of your thoughts, and after replying to Pero’s text - and confirmation that he’d be to you in under fifteen minutes - you stood and stretched, taking a deep breath. I can do this. 

Putting your boots on, you moved toward the kitchen and pulled your coat from the hook by the door. “I want to do this.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to get out after he parked. By the time he was reaching for his seatbelt, you were outside and almost to the passenger door. 

“Why will you not let me meet you by the door?” You laughed at his scowl, and when you met his eyes, you saw that for the first time, there was no weight to it. This is good. “Is that not -”

“I’m not that old fashioned, Pero.” You buckled yourself in, adjusting the strap. “There’s no reason  for you to get out of the car just to get right back in.” 

“Women.” He grumbled out the word, shaking his head. “Maybe it’s better I do not try to date. You are confusing.” It made you giggle, something you rarely did, and the sound caught Pero’s attention, his dark head turning toward you before he could put the car in reverse. 

“What?” You pressed your lips together. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“No reason.” He smiled then, the look in his eyes softening. “No reason at all.” 

“Well that was a nightmare.” You and Pero were standing at one of the raised tables off to the side in the main exhibit room. “You have to do that every time you get a new client?” 

“Most of the time it happens before they get here.” He gestured to you. “But because you are a new piece of the puzzle, it couldn’t be done early.” Thank you, William. “They just needed to make sure you weren’t dangerous.” 

“Me?” You rolled your eyes and then let your gaze wander over the room as it filled. “I’m probably the least dangerous person in this room.”

“Not true.” He rested his elbows on the table, leaning closer. “There is more than one way to be dangerous.” You didn’t have time to question him about that, because the emcee stepped onto the stage and tapped the microphone at the podium. 

“We’ll be starting the bidding in just a few minutes.” He pointed at the table set up along the far left wall. “For smaller items on that table, you can check in with one of my employees to place a bid.” He gestured to the empty space beside him, a pristine tablecloth draped over a second platform. “And for the more valuable things, those will be available here, one by one.” The crowd murmured in agreement, and you watched as Pero looked around the room, too. 

He was alert, but in a way that still looked relaxed, and it was impressive. “I’m going to go and get something to drink, do you want anything?”

“No alcohol.” He looked back at you, shaking his head. “Not until later. Not until she is safely out of the building.” Agreeing, you left him to join the short line waiting for drinks. You hadn’t seen Lin yet, and wondered where she and Willaim were. Maybe back in the dressing rooms. That would make sense.  

You waited in the line, listening to the way people around you were chattering. They seemed to be having a good time, and excited about the fact that they’d get to bid on the items - and be in the same room as a celebrity. You didn’t blame them, it was a neat opportunity, but truth be told, you were looking forward to the time with Pero more. Even if he’s working. 

Carrying the drinks back to your table, you paused long enough to watch your date for a few seconds, relying on the people passing between you to keep you hidden. But when, moments after you stopped, his attention shifted and his eyes landed on you, you realized that there was no being stealthy when it came to him. 

He raised a brow but didn’t look away. I should have known better. You smiled at him and then started moving again, weaving through the crowd until you were by his side. “Nonalcoholic beer.” You set the cup down, glancing over at him. “For both of us.” 

He grumbled when he raised it to take a sip, and you watched his lip curled at the first taste of it. “People pay for this?” 

“They do.” You swallowed your own drink, sighing. “So what do we do now? Do we have to bid? Should we walk around and look at the stuff for sale?”

“We do nothing.” He trailed a finger through some of the moisture on the table. “I stay alert. William and Lin are back with her right now, and when she comes out to talk to the crowd, then I move closer so that I can keep my eyes on her.” 

“You said we stay together the whole time.” You frowned, elbowing him. “So that means I’m going with you when you get closer.” He was quiet for a few seconds, but then Pero’s shoulders relaxed and he lowered his head. 

“I did say that.” 

The first portion of the auction went smoothly, and just after they closed the bidding to give everyone a chance to get settled for the main segment, you saw William and Lin step out from a set of doors on the right, his arm around her waist. 

“Look, there they -” You spoke up but were interrupted when Pero started talking, too, nodding his head. 

“Yes, I see you. We will move to the other side of the room now.” He’s had an earpiece in. I didn’t even notice it. 

That meant that William had been able to hear everything Pero had said to you - and likely most of what you’d said in return. You hadn’t had any deep conversations, but knowing that your privacy was limited changed things. So was he answering me with that in mind? Or was he … shit. 

To your surprise, Pero reached over and took your hand, hesitating only slightly before sliding his fingers between yours so that you could press your palms together. We’re holding hands. Actually holding… wow. “We will move to the chairs on the left. William and Lin are staying on the right.” He squeezed. “Are you ready?” 

You were, and as the two of you found a new place to sit, you paid close attention to the way he interacted with the people you passed. Pero didn’t speak to anyone but he looked at all of them, assessing the other attendees with practiced ease. You wondered what they were looking for - or if they expected there to be trouble. 

Pero waited until you were seated to take his place next to you at the end of the row, and you were disappointed when he let go of your hand to do it. While everyone was getting settled, you took a deep breath and leaned over, turning your head to speak into his ear. He sat with the earpiece on the other side. “Is this as awful as you thought it’d be?” He stiffened, but there was a minute shake of his head before he turned in your direction. 

“I never said it would be awful. Just … difficult.” He looked down, his eyes on your hands where  they rested on your thighs. “And it has been.” You frowned, thinking, and opened your mouth to ask him how. “It is starting.” He pointed. “I have to pay attention now.” Pero reached into his pocket and handed you a slip of paper with a number printed on it. “In case you want to bid.” 

“I’m not bidding on anything.” You took it, though, laughing quietly. “But -” But it will look less suspicious if we pretend. “Thank you.” 

For the next thirty minutes, you watched as item after item was brought out onstage to cheers and applause. There were three autographed scripts, a tour-used microphone, some wardrobe and prop pieces, and a handful of signed items both by their client and her costars and band. It was an impressive assortment of memorabilia, and when each winner’s name was called, you felt how excited they were. 

And when the auction shifted to the new items - the ones that would bring in the most money and had the most potential to cause trouble for Pero and William to step in and fix, you shifted slightly closer to him, your arm brushing against his. 

He didn’t say anything, but a few minutes in, Pero reached over and brushed his knuckles over the back of your hand briefly - the contact taking you by surprise. It was a good sign, you thought, as you glanced over and saw his lips twitch. And that’s almost a smile, which is even better. 

He stiffened slightly when the emcee announced a special guest to present the following few experiences, and even you felt your heart rate rise as the woman walked out onstage to a much louder chorus of cheers and applause. 

She introduced herself and said hello to a few people in the crowd, but then got right down to business, slipping into the persona that you were familiar with based on seeing her performances and interviews. 

You found yourself laughing along when she started the bidding on a visit to set, describing it as an opportunity to see her - and her castmates - make a mess out of their lines for the first dozen takes. And the laughter continued when she paused between items to tell a story about working on her first show, and how anxious she’d been, which turned out to be for nothing, because it had ended up being one of the smoothest filming experiences of her career. 

There were a few tense moments toward the end of the auction when someone stood up and shouted over the rest of the crowd that they loved her, and you felt Pero stiffen again, his body angled slightly toward the sound. But as soon as she responded, telling the man that she loved him, too, and thanked him for coming, he sat back down and Pero relaxed against his chair, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. 

“We’re almost done, Pero. Couple more bids, and -”

“And then we can get out of here.” He sighed, nodding. “I know.” 

The night had passed much more quickly than you’d anticipated, and you were sad that it was coming to an end. As soon as the hammer fell on the last auction item - and the grand total of winning bids flashed on a screen behind the podiums, everyone started cheering again. You risked a look over at Pero - and then another at William and Lin - and noted that while both men were watching the stage, Lin was watching you, her eyebrows raised and a knowing smile on her lips. I’m never going to hear the end of this. 

The client was ushered offstage by a few men that you assumed were her personal security team, and once she was gone, Pero stood, reaching over to pull you to your feet. “Come on.” He tugged you toward the doors opposite the ones William and Lin had emerged from, and moments later, you were in the back hallways with the people behind the scenes. He kept holding your hand as you made your way back to the room you’d given the information for your background check in, fingers linked tightly together. 

The two of you joined a small group of others in the security room, and watched on monitors as the client’s team navigated her out the back entrance and into a waiting car. The moment it pulled away, another with her small entourage following close behind it, Pero breathed out deeply, his hold on you relaxing. “Night one, done.” 

It shocked you that they were getting paid to be bystanders, but part of you wondered if he and William preferred simple, safe jobs to the ones that required lengthy trips or the potential for danger. And so close to the holidays, he gets to stay home with Lin. “Do we need to meet with William before we leave, or -”

“No, I can take you home.” He flexed his fingers, his chin tilting downward as he realized you were still holding hands. Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go. He didn’t, pausing before he spoke again. “Thank you for -”

“Tovar.” William’s voice cut in, and you looked up in time to see him and Lin making their way through the room and toward you. “Good job tonight.” Pero nodded, immediately releasing your hand and crossing his arms, shoulders straight. “Lin and I are going to get something real to eat. Want to come?” 

You wondered if it was purposeful - if William was inviting Pero to see if he’d say yes for just himself, or if he’d invite you to go along. “We drove together, so I hav…” Your stomach dropped at his response, and you knew there was no hiding the disappointment on your face or the way you flinched at his sudden change in demeanor. “No. That is not …” Pero turned his body so that he was facing you and took a deep breath. “Do you want to go and get food with them?” 

“Yes. But only if -” His eyes widened and you watched his lips part, Pero clearly surprised by your reply. “Only if you want me to.” 

“I want you to.”

Part 2 coming soon!

[parkitrighthere]

Hey , will we get an update on AOP ? If not you mentioned we could get a sneak peak . Could we get that ?

Heyyy sweet anon!! How’s it going?? I hope you’re having the BEST day ever and soaking in all the Christmas magic!! I’m so sorry I didn’t check my inbox earlier, and well… rest is history, right? But hey, better late than never, right?? Sooo, here’s a little sneak peek for you, I hope you like it!

Okay, quick heads up:

This is the beginning of chapter 3. I mean, it’s not super exciting or anything yet (shocker, right?), but I promise it’ll do for now. I’m still working on the chapter, so cut me some slack. Also, I’ve realized I have a ridiculous amount of love for Kenji right now… like, why did I just say that out loud? 🤷‍♀️ Oh well, I did. #KenjiIsLife

So, here’s a little snippet (under the cut, obviously because suspense and all that jazz). Please try your best to like it, even though my dialogue game is still under construction. I swear, I’m leveling up my writing skills (slowly but surely). 😅 And seriously, tell me what you think, I’m dying to know!

And... uh, forgive me? Or maybe not? But, like, please? 🙈

Alright, here it goes—enjoy!

(Jimin have nothing to do with it. I merely posted him to distract you from all the mess I've posted)

The darkness wrapped the sky in its velvet shroud, a blend of endless black and the faint glow of stars. The moon hung high, heavy and luminous, as if holding up the weight of the heavens. Its light spilled through the open window, brushing across the room in silvery streaks, making the shadows dance on the walls. The cold air slipped in, sharp and biting, rushing past your face. You inhaled deeply, your chest rising as the chill pricked your skin.

It was already midnight, and sleeping wasn't an option. Your fingers gripped the edge of the windowsill, as you leaned forward, staring into the stillness of the night. The coolness of the wood beneath your palm punished you, but your mind was far away, caught in a storm you couldn’t quite name

 You weren’t crying—there were no tears left to shed. You weren’t angry either. The fiery edge of rage had dulled long ago, leaving behind an ache too stubborn to fade.

You exhaled sharply, your breath mingling within the cold air. It wasn’t sadness—not anymore. You’d come to terms with it after talking to Elizabeth.

Your shoulders slumped, and you rubbed at your temples, trying to massage away the tension. It wasn’t about you. It never had been. Your reflection in the window—dull eyes and a tired face—stared back, and you nodded at it, a soft chuckle skipping past your lips. Acceptance wasn’t a choice; it was the only option left.

 You thought enough about it, and one thing you grew certain of was that it was, and never would be, about you. You were ready to accept the bond—it was always about him. You knew you couldn’t keep trying alone. You tilted your head back, the moonlight catching the wet shine in your eyes, though no tears fell. It wasn’t how it worked. It couldn’t be.

 Slowly, you pulled back from the window, the cold air chasing after you. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you let out a shaky breath. You wouldn’t beg—not for him, not for love. No.

You couldn’t deny it, not to yourself at least—you wanted to try. More than anything. Your chest ached with the thought, your fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as if clutching at the hope you refused to voice. You didn’t know much about him, not really, except one undeniable truth: he was intense, passionate, extreme. And so were his emotions—wild, consuming, and impossibly bright. But he hid them, masked them behind a wall so impenetrable that even you, his mate, couldn’t see through it.

Your hands trembled as you ran them through your hair, the strands tangling between your fingers. The memory of his dark, shimmering boba eyes flashed in your mind. You’d imagined them so many nights—staring at you, full of the love and affection you so desperately wanted. No, deserved. Didn’t you? And even if you didn’t, a part of you insisted he should give it anyway. Because weren’t you his mate? Your lips pressed into a thin line, and your jaw clenched as bitterness bubbled in your chest.

You had the right to him, didn’t you? But fate, cruel and merciless as it always was, had turned your bond into a twisted game. Or maybe it wasn’t fate at all. Maybe it was him—your mate, the one who could ignite every nerve in your body with a single glance but chose instead to keep his distance.

Your shoulders sagged, and you leaned back against the wall, letting the cold surface seep through your dress. You didn’t know why he kept you at arm’s length, why his indifference cut so deep. A sharp breath escaped your lips, your chest tightening. Did you even want to know? That was the question that kept you awake at night, gnawing at the edges of your sanity.

The air felt heavier now, as you straightened, your fingers curling into fists at your sides. You didn’t know the reason behind his indifference. But did you want to? That was a big question now. You wouldn’t beg. Not for a man’s attention, not for his love. You might crave him—God, you craved him with every fiber of your being. His presence, his touch, the way his voice seemed to echo in your mind long after he’d spoken. But you would cut yourself open before you begged.

You were just a low-ranking werewolf, a speck compared to the royal Lycan king. But rank didn’t matter now, not to you. You would not grovel—not for him or anyone. If he wanted you, he’d have to fight for you, just as fiercely as you’d once wanted to fight for him. And it wasn’t necessarily that bad here; at least you were being fed.

There was no point in thinking about it now.  As tired as your mind was, your body was weirdly energetic, yet you felt paradoxically weak—the lack of training and shifting in weeks was finally getting to you.

Your eyes darted around the room, taking in the too-familiar walls and furniture. Boredom surged like a wildfire, quick and consuming. You hated this place—its silence, its stillness. But if someone were to ask what you hated most, the answer came easily, almost reflexively. Him. Your mate. Jeon Jungkook.

You huffed, shaking your head as if trying to dislodge the thought. You stood there for a moment, swaying slightly, your arms hanging limply at your sides. Your chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths. The night wrapped around you like a second skin, colder than it should’ve been. You rubbed your arms absentmindedly, even though you felt no sense of cold. There was something strange in the air tonight, though. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It clung to you, just out of reach, like a whisper you couldn’t fully hear.

You, once again, reached to the window, your fingertips brushing the edge of the curtain. The cold glass pressed against your palm as you stared out at the still, dark world. A frown tugged at your lips. It wasn’t delight you were feeling—not even close. It wasn’t contentment either. No, this was different, deeper.

Fulfillment. As if something had shifted back into place, something you hadn’t realized was missing.

But with it came fear. A cold, tearing fear that settled in your chest and refused to let go. Your hand pressed over your heart, feeling its unsteady rhythm thrum beneath your skin. Your throat tightened, and your eyes flicked toward the moonlit horizon, searching for something you couldn’t name.

You turned away from the window, pacing the room with quick, uneven steps. Your fingers ran through your hair, tugging at the strands as if the slight pain would ground you. It didn’t.

You paused mid-step, staring at your hands as they trembled. Was it the bond? You didn’t know, but your gut screamed that it was. Everything—the restlessness, the strange sense of completion, the fear—it all traced back to him.

You glanced out the window at the night sky—heavenly dark and ethereally calm—and a small smile tugged at your lips, unbidden. The moon was truly magnificent tonight; you thought nothing could ever match the quiet beauty of nature—especially the moon.

You drew in a long, deep breath, holding it in your chest before letting it out slowly. The weight against your ribs loosened, if only a little. Your eyes dropped to your hands, fingers curling and uncurling as you bit your bottom lip in thought.

Without a second thought, you turned on your heel, your movements dogged but not rushed. You slipped out of your quarters and into the dimly lit hallway, pausing for a moment to glance around.

Where to go?

You tilted your head, brows knitting together as the question settled in your mind. You didn’t have an answer, you merely didn't want to sit in your quarters. With a small nod to yourself.

The guards stationed along the walls watched you with wary eyes, their expressions unreadable. You didn’t pay them any mind, your focus elsewhere. The coolness of the air pressed against your skin, seeping through your clothes like icy fingers. A shiver ran down your spine, but instead of recoiling, you welcomed it.

Winter was near. The thought sent a flicker of warmth through you, chasing away some of the cold. You’d always loved winter, the way the world transformed under a blanket of snow, quiet and pristine. In just a month, the first snowfall would come, covering everything in a soft, white hush.

A smile broke across your face, wide and genuine. Your fingers brushed against your arms as you imagined the crunch of snow beneath bare feet, or the feel of it against your fur in wolf form. She loved winter too.

And then there was the blue moon. Only three weeks away, a grand celebration waiting on the horizon. The thought made your chest swell with anticipation, and a quiet giggle escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Your steps quickened, your feet almost skipping as you moved through the halls. You practically bounced on your toes, the cold air swirling around you but unable to dampen your mood. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, something sparked inside you—something bright, something hopeful.

But happiness had always been a fleeting guest in your life, and tonight proved no exception. Your steps faltered, the soft rhythm of your bare feet on the cold floor coming to an abrupt halt. The smile that had warmed your lips vanished, leaving them pressed into a thin line as Jungkook’s voice tore through the stillness of the still night.

It was sharp, loud, booming even. The sound echoed around you, bouncing off the walls. Without realizing it, you had wandered near his quarters. Your chest tightened as frustration bubbled beneath your skin. No matter how much you tried, how much you willed yourself to stay away, you always found yourself here—drawn to him like a moth to flame. You hated it. You hated him.

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip. His voice rang out again, louder this time, filled with venom and a simmering rage that made your stomach churn.

“I’m not obligated to tell you anything. Anything.”

Your body flinched involuntarily at the sound, as if the force of his anger had reached out and struck you. It wasn’t fear, not exactly. It was instinct—your body recoiling from the raw, unfiltered aggression in his tone.

You turned your head slightly, your gaze shifting to the floor. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. For a moment, you considered walking away, your feet itching to retreat. But you stayed rooted to the spot.

He was angry.

He was yelling.

But why? At who?

The questions spun relentlessly in your mind, but the answers evaded you. Your curiosity, though unwelcome, began clawing at your chest, demanding to be fed. A small voice whispered in the back of your head, urging you to move closer, to press your ear to the door and unravel the tension vibrating through the walls.

You shook your head, swallowing hard, forcing your feet to stay planted. Jungkook had made many things painfully clear on your first day here—one of them being that you were not to involve yourself in pack matters unless explicitly asked. His rules were ironclad, just like the wall he had built between the two of you.

Fine. If he didn’t respect or care for you, you wouldn’t care for him—or his pack. You took a slow, deliberate step forward, ready to walk past his quarters without so much as a glance.

But then you heard it.

Her voice.

Elizabeth.

The sound froze you mid-step, your body stiffening as if an invisible force had gripped you by the shoulders. She was in there, her voice carrying through the closed door—tenacious, loud, yet gentle. She was asking him something, and though his voice was lower now, you could still hear the anger simmering in every clipped word he threw back at her.

Your stomach twisted, curiosity roaring to life and twisting into something darker. Jealousy.

The fire of it ignited low in your chest, spreading quickly, burning hotter with every second you stood there. What were they talking about? Why was she here, in his quarters, this late? The questions pushed everything else from your mind, leaving only a sharp, all-consuming need to know.

Your jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as your breath came out shakier than you wanted to admit. Your chest heaved as you stared at the door, as if willing it to give up its secrets. The thought of her—of them—on the other side of it sent a cold, bitter shiver down your spine. You clenched your teeth harder, your body trembling with an emotion you didn’t want to name.

Still, your feet remained rooted, caught between storming forward and fleeing altogether. You told yourself you didn’t care, that whatever was happening in that room didn’t matter to you. But the fire raging inside you screamed otherwise.

"Jungkook, you can’t just run away from all you’ve done!" Elizabeth’s voice cut through the heavy, pregnant silence like a blade, shrill and demanding. Each word was laced with venom, her tone rising an octave with every syllable. "It’ll be the death of us all. Do you even have any idea what would happen if Jimin found out what you’ve done? Do you know how many vamp—"

“Leave!!”

Jungkook’s voice thundered through the air, slamming into you like a physical force. The raw power in his Alpha command made your breath hitch, your chest tightening painfully as if an unseen hand had wrapped itself around your throat, forcing you to bare it.

Your knees buckled slightly, your hand shooting out to the cold wall beside you to steady yourself. The sheer authority in his tone wasn’t just heard—it was felt, reverberating through your body, making your heart stutter and your skin break out in goosebumps.

For a moment, you stood frozen, your wide eyes staring blankly ahead as the weight of his words settled over you. But then something stirred deep within you.

Your wolf.

You hadn't felt her in days.

It was a faint ripple at first, a flicker of energy in the pit of your stomach. But it grew quickly, spreading like a wildfire through your veins. She was there—fully present in a way she hadn’t been in years. You could feel her strength, her defiance, her barely restrained anger.

Why was she angry?

It took you a moment to realize that you were feeling Jungkook’s emotions. It was the first time you had ever experienced them. His feelings were so intense that it was becoming hard to breathe. It felt as if a fire was burning in the centre of your chest.

Your lips parted in a shaky exhale, and your fingers gripped the wall as you tried to steady your racing heart. The connection was overwhelming, a storm of emotions flooding your senses: pride, fury, longing—all of it tangled together.

Oh! Moon goddess, it was overwhelming

Your head turned slightly, your gaze narrowing on the closed door as Elizabeth’s voice was abruptly silenced. The tension in the air was suffocating, thick enough to choke on, and yet... you couldn’t move.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for. Maybe for Elizabeth to storm out, her face twisted with fury. Maybe for Jungkook to step into the hallway, his presence as commanding as his voice.

Or maybe, you were waiting for yourself—to decide whether you would stay or walk away, pretending none of this had ever happened.

"Move, Bee."

The whisper of your wolf echoed faintly in your mind, a nudge that left no room for argument. Before you could even process her words, your legs carried you away from the shadows where you stood rooted. Your feet moved on instinct, silent against the cold marble floor as you melted into the darkness of the hallway, just out of sight.

The door to Jungkook’s bedroom creaked open, and Elizabeth stepped out.

You stilled, your breath catching in your throat as your gaze locked on her. She looked… dreadful. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed, and her lips pressed into a thin, angry line. But it was her eyes that unsettled you most—they were wide, almost frantic, as if she’d seen something that had shaken her to her very core.

What is wrong?

Your fingers twitched at your sides, itching to reach out and grab her, demand answers to the storm of questions swirling in your mind. But before you could act, she stormed off, her hurried footsteps fading into the distance.

The silence that followed was deafening, and your chest ached with your unanswered questions.

You kept walking and without realizing it, you were outside. The icy wind bit at your skin, and your bare feet pressed into the damp grass of the royal garden. The once soothing serenity of the night now felt oppressive.

The soft rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of the night animals did little to calm the unease gnawing at you. The cold that had earlier been invigorating now seemed to seep into your very bones, chilling you from the inside out.

Your steps faltered, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, your fingers digging into the fabric of your sleeves as your mind raced.

What were they talking about?

Your thoughts spiralled, wild and rigid. The memory of Jungkook’s loud voice echoed in your head, and Elizabeth’s pale, distraught face lingered in your mind.

What was she doing in his room in the middle of the night?

"Bee, you’re thinking way too much," your wolf interjected with a bored sigh.

You couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped your lips, your breath fogging in the crisp night air.

'Thinking too much? That’s rich coming from you,' you muttered under your breath, the tension in your shoulders easing ever so slightly.

Your wolf hummed in response, unbothered, as if this entire situation didn’t concern her in the slightest. She had made her grand reappearance only to take over your body, push you into the cold night, and now, she was defending him.

"Of course, you’d side with him," you said, shaking your head with a humourless smile. You paced aimlessly through the garden, your fingers brushing against the brittle leaves of the hedges as you walked.

"I’m not defending anyone, Bee. I only said you’re thinking too much," your wolf’s voice came again, calm and infuriatingly smug.

You huffed, dragging your hands through your hair in exasperation as you continued pacing. The cool breeze tugged at the strands, but it didn’t calm you—it only added to the storm brewing in your chest.

"You’ve said enough," you muttered aloud, a bitter chuckle slipping past your lips as you shook your head.

"Aww, Bee trying to be sassy? That’s new… and dumb," she quipped, her tone laced with amusement.

You froze mid-step, your jaw tightening as irritation rippled through you. Balling your fists, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your eyes narrowing at the empty garden ahead of you as if you could glare at her.

"I’m curious," you snapped, your voice low and laced with frustration.

"And jealous," she added with a shrug you could practically feel, the smugness in her tone igniting the fire in your chest.

You clenched your teeth, your fingers twitching at your sides as you turned on your heel and paced again. Was she always this difficult? you wondered, your steps now faster, heavier, as if walking harder would somehow silence her.

"You’re being impossible," you muttered, your voice clipped.

"Well… I’m trying," she retorted, her smirk audible in your mind.

You let out a low growl, a sound of pure frustration as you stopped in your tracks and threw your hands in the air. The cold bit at your skin, and the grass beneath your feet squished as you shifted your weight, trying to ground yourself.

"Why do you always do this?" you hissed through gritted teeth, pacing again, your movements acute and agitated.

Your wolf merely hummed, her silence somehow louder than her teasing had been. It was like she was sitting back, watching the chaos unfold, amused by your every reaction.

You pressed your palm to your forehead, your other hand on your hip, and let out a shaky breath. The night around you was still, the garden eerily quiet except for the rustle of leaves and your own unsteady breaths.

"Aren’t you curi—" you started, your voice harsh, ready to lash out at your wolf and her endless sass.

But the words died on your tongue when a hand landed on your shoulder, firm yet not harsh. The touch yanked you out of your spiralling thoughts, and for a moment, the world tilted. Your breath hitched, eyes flickering from their glowing yellow back to their usual shade as a startled scream tore from your lips.

Instinct kicked in as you twisted away, prying the hand off your shoulder with shaky fingers. Your movements were frantic, unsteady. In your rush to create distance, your foot slipped on the damp grass.

You stumbled backward, arms flailing uselessly to regain your balance, but gravity wasn’t forgiving tonight.

"No, no, no—!" The words barely left your lips before you felt it: an arm curling around your waist, warm and secure, trying to steady you. For a fleeting moment, you thought you’d be pulled back, saved from the inevitable fall.

But fate had other plans.

You went down, and so did he.

The icy water swallowed you both, shocking the air from your lungs as you hit its surface. The cold stabbed at your skin like a thousand tiny needles, and a gasp escaped you, only for the water to rush in through your mouth and nose.

Panic surged as your chest tightened, the burning need for air overwhelming your senses. Your limbs flailed in the dark water, your vision a blur of silvery moonlight and shifting shadows.

Just when the pressure in your lungs became unbearable, the same hand that had startled you moments ago was back, gripping your arm with unwavering strength. With a single pull, you were yanked upward, as if you weighed nothing.

You broke through the surface with a desperate gasp, coughing and sputtering as cold air filled your lungs. Your vision cleared just enough to make out the figure before you, drenched and dripping, his chest rising and falling as he caught his own breath.

You blinked rapidly, your body shivering violently from the cold. Water dripped down your face, tangling in your lashes and blurring your view, but you could still make out his piercing gaze locked onto yours.

"Stand still, Luna. It's not that deep," Kenji's voice broke through the haze in your mind, soft and distant. His words, though meant to calm you, barely registered in your brain. They felt like whispers, faint and without meaning, as your world rolled in the aftermath of the cold water.

You didn’t have the energy to respond. Everything felt numb, too much to process. You barely felt his hands as they gripped your body, pulling you out of the water, his strong arms steadying you. The cold air hit your skin like a slap, making your body tremble, but you didn’t care. Your clothes clung to your body, heavy and soaked, as if they were another layer of ice.

"Are you okay?" His voice, low and smooth, carried a tinge of concern, but you couldn’t answer him. You were too focused on your own ragged breathing, each gasp severe and painful as you tried to fill your lungs with air.

You nodded, still struggling to steady yourself, your knees weak beneath you. Kenji’s hands loosened their grip but remained close, as if afraid you might collapse. His eyes—green, intense, filled with raw worry—never left your face.

Your gaze flickered to him, taking in his drenched appearance. His black shirt clung to his frame, outlining the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen. Eight abs? You thought dazedly, momentarily distracted by the sharp, perfect definition of his body. His arms, thick with muscle, rippled as he shifted, veins prominent under his skin. His coat was missing, leaving only the damp shirt, trouser and boots that squeaked with every movement as water pooled around his feet.

For a moment, the world felt quieter, but the thudding of your pulse in your ears reminded you of the mess still swirling in your mind. Kenji’s eyes never left you, scanning you for any signs of distress, his worry plain in the furrow of his brows.

You opened your mouth, wanting to speak, but a cough seized you, harsh and sudden, the water still making its presence known in your lungs. You doubled over, a sharp spasm running through your chest as your throat burned.

Cough, cough.

You wheezed, the water still clogging your chest. Kenji’s hand was warm on your back, patting gently as you tried to catch your breath. His touch was surprisingly comforting, but it couldn’t shake the rush of anger and embarrassment bubbling up inside you. When your breathing finally steadied, he brushed your wet hair behind your ear.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be this frightened," he murmured, his voice soft and apologetic, eyes scanning you with an unreadable expression.

"Really," You snapped, unable to hold back your frustration any longer, huffing sharply and turning your gaze away from him. "Of course, I’ll be frightened. You came out of nowhere!" You couldn’t help it. The adrenaline still buzzed under your skin, your heart racing in a way you didn’t understand. Your eyes darted around, desperately looking for something to focus on, when you caught sight of the lake.

"There’s a lake here. A lake." The words came out in disbelief as you took a step back, your mouth falling open as you stared at the calm water behind you. You couldn’t believe it. It was like you had stepped into another world, even though you were still in the Lycan palace.

Kenji was still beside you, and his puzzled gaze flickered between you and the lake. "Why do you seem so angry at the fact?" His voice was light, but there was confusion in his eyes.

"Because. I. Fell." The words came out sharp, punctuated with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, shivering from the cold water clinging to your clothes, which now felt like a second skin, heavy and soaked.

Kenji raised an eyebrow, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. "Valid," he said, almost too calmly, his eyes still filled with curiosity.

"Duh!" You huffed again, your arms tightening across your chest in annoyance. The cold bite of the air wasn’t helping, and the peaceful lake, which had once seemed serene, now only added to your growing frustration. Everything felt off now—strange and disorienting. You were unable to contemplate why were you feeling cold, you were a werewolf.

The anger, now mixed with frustration, flared up again. "Who has a lake behind their palace garden?" You shook your head, still in disbelief.

Kenji’s voice was full of pride as he spoke, "We do." The way he said it made you want to smack him, but you held yourself back, the urge bubbling up in your chest. It would be unladylike, un-queenly. No, you couldn’t afford to lose control like that. You sucked in a breath, steadying yourself. Elegance, composure—those were the things you had to focus on.

You forced a smile, one that felt far too wide, far too tight. "Kenji." Your voice was soft, almost sweet, and the smile that accompanied it was dripping with artificial sweetness. His eyes snapped to yours, widening for a moment, and you saw the exact second his face twisted into something almost grotesque.

"That’s so fake!" he blurted, his voice betraying the shock in his tone.

A gasp slipped past your lips, surprise flashing across your face before it quickly melted into something else. His eyes shot wide with horror, his skin paling as he stepped back slightly, as if you had just slapped him. "Oh! Moon goddess, forgive me, Luna. I—I…" His words faltered, stuttering, as if he could barely comprehend the mistake he had just made.

You blinked, confused. His reaction felt over the top, but there was a genuine fear in his eyes now, one that caught you off guard. You weren’t strong enough to fight him off, and you weren’t a queen yet—not in his eyes, not in anyone's eyes. The only one who might consider you his queen was Jungkook, and he barely acknowledged you as his mate.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, the cold air biting at your skin as you stared at Kenji, ignoring the tension that still hung between you. You couldn’t care less about his reaction to your earlier words, focusing instead on the question hanging in the air.

“What are you doing here at this time?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended. His eyes flickered with surprise, his mouth opening, but then nothing. He pointed a finger toward you, lips moving, but no sound came out. It was almost comical, watching him struggle to form words.

“What?” you snapped, growing impatient.

He blinked, his brows furrowing, trying to process your response before mumbling, “You mean, pardon?”

“No, I mean what. Now start talking, will you?” you demanded, your patience wearing thin.

He blinked at you, bewildered. “That was my question.”

“I mean once again. What?” You were so done with his indecision, the confusion clear on your face.

“That was my question.”

A frustrated sigh slipped past your lips, your eyes narrowing as you crossed your arms tighter. “I heard it before. Explain.”

Kenji’s eyes hardened slightly, frustration creeping into his expression, but he didn’t back down. “What are you doing here?” he repeated, his voice finally steady, but it only made you more annoyed.

“Walking?” you replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You tilted your head, locking eyes with him. Your voice was dismissive, but the corners of your lips lifted in something close to a smirk.

“At this time?"

"When I walk, I don’t care about time. Walking is good.” You shrugged nonchalantly, your gaze challenging him to argue. His expression faltered for a moment, his mouth falling open as he stared at you, as if you’d grown two heads. You didn’t care.

“What? I can walk. It keeps you fit,” you added, eyes narrowing into a defiant glare, daring him to question you further.

Kenji stood tall, as he spoke, his gaze intense as if daring you to question him further. “We are. No. You are a werewolf. We have high metabolism. We stay fit anyway without walking,” he countered, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You arched an eyebrow, not even bothered by his words. “And?” you shot back, your voice laced with indifference. You still didn’t have a reason for being here, but you weren’t about to back down.

He sighed, clearly growing tired. “What are you doing here?” you asked again, as if it was the most obvious question in the world.

His gaze flicked to you, and before you could even bink, the words reached your ear. “Patrolling.” He said it with such ease, as if it were a routine task. His shoulders shifted, a casual shrug, as he waited for you to process. His eyes never left yours, a slight raise of his brow as if daring you to argue.

“Why?” you asked, your confusion evident. You could already feel the answer forming in his mind, but you were far too frustrated to wait for it. “I mean, why you?” you continued, gesturing at his strong frame. “You’re a warrior. A strong one. You have different duties. The guards who patrol are different.”

Kenji’s lips curled into a grin, and he stepped forward, looking down at you with pride. “First of all, I’m not a strong warrior. I’m the strongest.” His chest puffed out even more, his chin tilting upwards as if the very idea of being anything less than the best was an insult. The smirk on his face deepened as he caught your eye. “And don’t you know we were attacked yesterday? One of our warriors almost died?”

His words hit you like a slap. You blinked in disbelief, the words barely registering in your mind. “What?” The harshness in your voice made Kenji wince, his hand instinctively going to his ear as if to shield it from the sound. He stepped back, his face contorting in discomfort, eyes wide with surprise.

“You don’t know? Nobody told you?” His voice was quieter now, almost uncertain, and you shook your head in response. His brow furrowed, confusion turning to something else—something closer to curiosity. “Why?” he asked, a tinge of disbelief still hanging in his voice.

“I was ordered by Jungkook to stay away from pack business and so was told others not to tell me anything,” you explained, the words coming out flat, detached. You didn’t expect his reaction—his face drained of colour, and he looked like he had seen a ghost. His throat bobbed, and a heavy gulp escaped him, loud and clear. There was panic in his eyes now.

“Kenji?” You walked closer, your gaze softening as his body trembled slightly. You put your arm on his shoulder, trying to offer some form of comfort.

But what you didn’t expect was the shift in his posture, the way his shoulders hunched as if the weight of something far heavier rested on them.

“Are you crying?” you asked in disbelief, your voice almost a whisper.

“I don’t want to die.” He whispered, his voice small and muted. The words hung in the air, heavy and confusing.

“I still want to find my mate and impregnate her.” His confession was quiet, the last part barely audible.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Okay, now I’m just here nervously waiting for your thoughts! Please go easy on me, I promise I’m trying my best! 😬

[gingerteafairy]

Hi Angel!!! I just discovered your account and I luvsss itt!! I was thinking maybe you can do A Todd x reader, where she is a popular girl and he is the same old loser? Idk if you would like it 😭 Keep up the great work! 💕

suree, i just love writing about my favorite loser. tysm for appreciating ❤️‍🩹

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 (𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

You need help in chemistry and luckily Todd Haynes is the monitor. You’re pretty sure you’re getting the cutest chemistry private lesson ever.

tags n warnings: smut,dom!reader,sub!todd,KINKS,cockwarming,aftercare,handjob, unprotected piv,pet names,cursing,he's such a nerd. word count: 3.7k

"How about we skip chemistry today?" Your friend Ally suggests, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she flashes you a grin that could light up the whole school. Her fiery red hair bounces as she tilts her head, clearly expecting you to be on board. "I’ve been dying to try out that new ice cream shop near my house."

Hailey, never one to resist fun, claps her hands together like she's just heard the best idea ever. "Yes! Let’s make it a full-on girls’ day!"

"Oh my God, Ally, that sounds amazing!" you say, practically bouncing on your toes. "I could really use some new mascara, too." You pause, suddenly thoughtful. "But... my chemistry grade might actually die if I skip today. And well, I was looking forward to today's class," you admit. "We’re mixing acids and bases to create colorful reactions. It’s like a science experiment with rainbow explosions. How fun is that?"

Ally raises an eyebrow, her mouth curling into a teasing smile. "Wow. You really are a nerd, huh?" she says, flipping her hair as she opens her locker and adjusts her pink tank top. "I can’t even remember the last time I paid attention to that bald guy’s lecture."

"I’ll share my notes later, silly girls," you tease, giving them both a wink and making a heart shape with your hands.

Hailey practically launches herself at you, wrapping you in a tight hug. "You’re the best!" she gushes. "I swear, you’re like an angel with a perfect GPA."

You laugh and hug her back, feeling warm and fuzzy. "Alright, alright. Enough with the mushy stuff. I’ll see you guys later, though!"

As you walk toward the chemistry classroom, you spot a group of boys hanging out near the lockers. Dave and Martin are laughing, but it’s the boy standing next to them that makes your heart do a little flip. You’ve seen him around school before, but today? He’s definitely caught your attention. He 's cute. Messy brown hair falls just above his chocolate doe eyes.

What really gets you is that every time your eyes meet, he quickly looks away like he wasn’t expecting you to notice. You smile to yourself, amused and a little flustered as you head into the classroom.

You barely hear the teacher’s voice when he starts talking. Your mind’s still stuck on the cute guy in the hallway. That’s when the door creaks open, and he walks in—trying to be all sneaky through the back. His sneakers squeak loudly, and you can tell he’s hoping no one notices him.

Your heart skips a beat when his eyes lock with yours. You can’t help it—you smile, and even throw in a little playful wink. He glances around, clearly checking if anyone else saw the exchange, then looks back at you. You lean back in your chair, mouthing a casual "Hey."

His face instantly turns a shade of red you didn’t even know was possible. You giggle softly, and he shyly points to himself, his voice barely a whisper. "Me?"

You nod, trying not to break into a full-on grin.

"Late again, Mr. Haynes," the teacher says, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"Sorry, Mr. White," the boy mutters, quickly stuffing his hands in his pockets. He glances up just in time to see you lightly tap the tip of your pen to your lips, pretending to concentrate on your notes, then shoot him a cheeky grin.

The teacher shakes his head, unimpressed. "You’re lucky you’re the class monitor. Sit down, Todd. Try not to act like you’re starring in your own spy movie, alright? You’re the only one who knows anything about this subject."

Todd. You finally know his name. How had you never noticed him before? And he’s the monitor? This could be your chance.

As he walks toward an empty desk, you lean over and whisper, your voice playful and sweet. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "You wanna sit with me?"

He freezes for a second, eyes wide, like you just dropped a bomb. Then, realizing he’s in a classroom full of people, his voice cracks as he repeats, "What?" His cheeks instantly turn even redder. The teacher shoots him a warning glare, and he drops his voice, practically whispering now.

"Sorry! Um, sorry," Todd stammers, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, looking around nervously but also a little excited. After a beat, he slowly walks over to the desk next to yours, trying to act casual but failing miserably. "I—I guess... if you don’t mind."

You watch as he sits down, and you can’t help but notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks. It’s so adorable. You’re so close you can smell the faint citrusy scent of his cologne. You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, pretending to take notes as you steal glances at him.

Todd dives straight into the chemistry experiments, his focus sharp as he explains the reactions to you in the calmest, most effortless way possible. It’s like he’s been doing this forever. You almost forget you're in class—until your heart does that fluttery thing every time his eyes meet yours. You’re pretty sure you’re getting the cutest chemistry lesson ever.

"Thanks for… the seat, Y/N," Todd mutters, his voice barely audible. He glances at you for a split second, then quickly looks down at his desk, fidgeting with the books in his backpack like he’s trying to distract himself from how nervous he is.

You can’t help but smile at his awkwardness. "How’d you know my name?" you ask, walking beside him in the hallway, tilting your head playfully.

“Uh… I asked Dave,” he mumbles, clearly flustered. You lean in a little closer, pretending to be intrigued, though you’ve already heard him loud and clear.

You just can’t resist teasing him. After all, he's been adorable all day. You shift slightly, letting the sweet fruity scent of your perfume reach him. "Sorry, Toddy. What did you say?"

"Toddy?" His face turns brighter than a tomato, and he runs a hand through his messy hair like it could somehow make him less embarrassed. "I—I asked Dave for... the cute girl in chemistry class. He said you guys were friends since, like, elementary school."

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. "Awww, you think I’m cute?" you ask, giving him a soft, sweet smile.

Todd’s face deepens in color. "I... I think you’re a table," he blurts out, then immediately hides his face in his hands, as if that could make his awkwardness disappear.

You blink, trying to process his words. "What?" you ask, laughing.

"You know, the periodic table," he stammers, his words tripping over each other. "Like... you're periodic... means you’re cute. Periodic... like... magazines for nerds and cute girls and, uh... forget what I said," he quickly adds, visibly relieved when he sees your bright smile.

You burst out laughing, and though your cheeks are starting to heat up too. You lean in a little closer, still giggling. "I think you're a total nerd—and I love it."

Todd looks at you, blinking in surprise, as if he didn’t expect you to respond that way. "A nerd?" he echoes, his voice low but with a hint of a smile.

"Yeah, a cute nerd," you tease, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. "One who apparently knows everything about chemistry."

He laughs, a soft, nervous chuckle that makes your heart flutter. "I just—uh—like to help. It’s kinda my thing. I helped Dave once and, I guess, it just stuck."

You raise an eyebrow, your head tilted playfully. "How about you help me? I really need to improve my grades," you say, teasing but with a mischievous smile.

“You serious?” Todd echoes, shifting on his feet as he tries to process what you’re asking.

“Totally." You say, your voice smooth like velvet, approaching him slowly and brushing your fingers over the lace of his hoodie. "I think you're the only one who can help me."

“Really?” he repeats, his eyes widening as he backs up toward the lockers, trying to distance himself while you come closer to tie his hoodie lace into a neat bow.

“Really.” You give him a reassuring smile, letting your hands slide down the sides of your body. "What about 4pm at my place? Is that okay?"

“Today?” He blinks, eyes widening like you’ve just dropped a bomb. “I’m free! I’ll help you. Don’t worry. Anytime you want.”

“I'm actually going shopping today...” You bite your lip, glancing him up and down with a teasing smile.

"Shopping? Oh, sure!" Todd chuckles nervously, face-palming himself. "Go have fun."

“Sure? But I want you, Toddy,” You pout dramatically, but can't help but giggle when you see him lean back against the wall, clearly trying to keep his cool.

“You want me?” He swallows hard, blinking rapidly like he’s trying to make sense of what you just said.

"Yes… I’ll wait for you, okay?" you confirm with a wink, before turning to walk down the hallway, blowing him a kiss. Thank God he didn’t see the goofy grin you’re sporting.

"Okay…" Todd breathes, leaning his head back against the wall, utterly dazed as he tries to process everything that just happened.

Todd went home and took the longest shower of his life, mentally preparing for the most important study session he’d ever had. He was certain he was going to need all the courage he could muster to survive the next few hours with you.

The doorbell rings, and you open the door to Todd, who freezes when he sees you in a t-shirt and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. "Hey, Toddy. Come on in."

You step aside to let him in, and he follows you up the stairs to your room, trying not to look at you as he climbs.

Once inside, you sit on the bed and open your notebooks. He follows you, sitting on the edge, with all his books spread out in front of him. "You're too far, sit closer," you ask.

Todd slowly scoots closer, his fingers brushing against yours as he settles down next to you on the bed. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You both glance at the open textbooks in front of you, but the words blur together. It’s almost impossible to focus with him so close.

You can feel the warmth of his body next to yours, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the soft smell of your room. Every time you catch his eye, he looks away quickly, his cheeks tinged pink.

"Uh, so, um..." Todd stammers, trying to sound serious. "Do you, uh, want to start with the chemical reactions or the organic compounds?" His voice is a little too high-pitched, and you can't help but grin.

“Anywhere you want," you tease, your lips curling into a smile. You turn slightly toward him, your knee lightly brushing against his.

He looks at you, his eyes wide, as if surprised by the touch. "I—I didn’t even realize we were that close, sorry," he says, his voice barely a whisper.

You shrug, feigning nonchalance but secretly feeling your heart race. "Guess we’re just... naturally close," you tease, your hand lightly resting on the open notebook, but not really paying attention to the words. His fingers hover near yours, but he doesn't dare to move.

Todd's breath catches when you look at him, your face so close now that you can feel his breath. He murmurs, his voice soft, "I think we should—"

Before he can finish, you lean in just a little closer, your lips barely brushing his as you whisper, "We should what?”

He freezes, his body tense. "I… I don’t know. I was just thinking..." His words trail off as your faces inch closer, the air between you thick with the unspoken desire to kiss.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, just staring at each other, the world outside the room fading away. “Thinking…?” Your heart beats louder than ever, and you can almost hear his racing too.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, you close the tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his softly. You pull away just a little, still close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. His eyes stay closed for a beat longer, like he’s savoring the moment.

"That..." Todd starts, his voice cracking slightly, "... that was... um... wow.”

“Kissing a teacher is kinda sexy.” You tease, biting your lip as you glance at him doing the same with his.

“Yeah, uhm… I think you're right.” He bubbled, not taking his eyes away from your glossy lips, unaware he was as glossy as yours.

“So… will you kiss me more or will you teach your periodic more chemistry?” You provoke, getting in all fours with your face in mere inches of his.

“God…” he breathes, eyeing your breasts under your shirt in the new position. “i…kiss. I wanna kiss you more. Can I?”

“Just kissing?” You tease even more, playing with his limits, just to see where it could get. “Or… do you wanna something more?”

“Fuck.” He curses, digging his fingers on the mattress to stay sure the moment is real and not part of his loser imagination.

You chuckle, pecking kisses on his face to his ear to simply whisper his name in pure sultry tone. “You wanna fuck?”

“No… I mean…yes, no…” He stammered, swallowing when you licked his Adams apple.

“Say what you want, Toddy.” You inquired, facing him.

“Please, don't call me like that…” he whimpers, touching your hand.

“Why?” You questioned, biting his earlobe as you jumped on his lap, straddling. He check his lap to catch if you're really pressing your pelvis on his forming bulge and you're fucking really good at it. “Oh, you're already that hard, Toddy bear?”

“Fuck, I'm sorry.” He shots before kissing your lips as a starving man, his grip firm on your hip as he drives his hands under your shirt to dig his fingers on the soft skin of your waist, gaining a mewl from you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your hands in his soft curls as you wiggle your hips in the jeans squeezing his hard cock. You push him onto the bed and he settles, laying his head on the pillow to watch you remove your shirt, revealing your hard nipples.

“No bra…” he hisses, anxiously waiting for you to remove your shorts without getting off the top of him. He grips your thigh, feeling how wet you are even through his thick jeans. “This can’t be real. It can’t… I’m a loser and you’re hot. No.”

“You’re hot, Todd.” You praise, lying on top of him to kiss him again. “Can’t you see how wet I am f’you?”

“You… you’re the hot one. Shit, you’re so fucking delicious.” He grunts as you grind on his member, keeping your hands on the bed. “m gonna cum if you move like that…”

“You can touch me, you know?” You whispered between the kiss, taking the boy's hand to your breasts, where he gave them a gentle squeeze, increasing the force a little when you bit his bottom lip.

"Perfect tits." He chuckles, squeezing them a little more as he kisses you.

"You can touch me here too, Toddy." You take his hands to your ass and he gives them a firm squeeze, also directing his hands to your core. "You can touch me wherever you want, baby.”

"Fuck, don't do that to me." He meows, letting himself be carried away by your permission and turning you over on the bed, holding you by the wrists. "I can't take it anymore."

You smile in surprise, resting your knee on his evident erection, feeling him tremble above you. "Do you wanna make me feel good, Toddy?"

"Yes, please." He grunts, shaking his head frantically. "I want it so bad."

“C’mere…” you breathe, opening your legs for the boy who promptly throws his shirt in some forgotten corner of the room and undoes his belt clumsily, as if he had forgotten how to do this basic function.

“Damn belt!” He mutters, making you laugh and help him with the belt, pulling down his pants and red boxers in one go.

“Uhm… you’re so big, Toddy.” You purr, wrapping your fingers around the boy’s hard, wet cock, giving a few pumps that made him melt in your hand with whimpers.

“That’s so g-good… you’re so good…” he whimpers, kissing you. He mutually puts his hand inside your panties, carefully circling your clit.

You grind against his finger, feeling an immense wave of pleasure just from this simple touch. The chemistry between you is immeasurable like the explosion you saw in class.

“I need you.” He asks through tears, and you can tell that you've never seen anything more pornographic than Todd Haynes desperate for relieve, removing his hand to remove your thin fabric.

He swallows hard, grabbing his cock to carefully direct the tip to your entrance. He pushes, feeling your walls stretch with his thick size, which makes you arch your back, in a unisson moan with him.

"So…tight." Todd murmurs, completely inside you without resistance by your completely soaked pussy. “you're so wet f’me.”

He begins the slow thrusts, memorizing every part of your pussy. Todd didn't want to cum, he wanted to live there forever, just like you wanted him all the time. Damn, he had no right to be so delicious, as well as to find your pleasure point so quickly.

"There, right there...God, this is so good, Toddy.” you moan, grabbing his hips with your legs, your breasts swaying as his thrusts increased.

“You're beautiful, you're so…fuck…perfect. I love you so much, so fucking much, m sorry, taking me so well” he babbled, giving sloppy fast thrusts, the skin slapping sounds echoing in the room. “this fucking tight pussy.”

“m gonna cum, m gonna cum.” you whine, shutting your eyes hard as you come undone in a loud moan, muffled by his kiss.

“Cum, please. Melt in my cock, oh fuck, please, cum in me. M gonna cum too.” He groans, digging on a deep thrust with his balls deep as his thick seed fills your womb with pleasure, your eyes on the back of your head. “m sorry f’ cumming inside.”

“that's okay, i'm on pills.” You comfort, ruffling his hair as he rests his head on the crook of your neck, giving a few pumps inside you til his dick softened inside.

“Can I stay here a little longer?” He asks with his puppy sparkling eyes at you. “It feels so good.”

“Okay. Let’s lie on our sides like this.” You suggest and you both comfort your bodies on the mattress, your hand reaching for the sheet under the pillow to cover you both.

“I think I have PE,” he jokes, making you laugh loudly. Todd smiles at the sound, his eyes lighting up as his hand gently runs through your messy hair, as if you were a masterpiece he couldn't take his eyes off.

“If that’s the case, I think I have it too,” you respond, pausing to meet his intense gaze. His eyes seem to melt into you, and in that moment, your heart feels as if it's slowly breaking into a thousand pieces, like a chocolate popsicle left out on a hot summer day. “When you said you loved me…”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry about that,” he interrupts, suddenly pulling away, but you reach out, pulling him back toward you. You kiss him slowly, savoring the warmth of the moment.

“Don’t apologize,” you whisper softly, your thumb gently tracing his cheek, trying to comfort him. “I like you. You don’t need to apologize for your feelings.”

“I already came too fast and now I’m telling you that I love you. I’m a total loser.” He laughs sadly, caressing your waist and back with his strong hands.

“You may be a loser, but you’re my loser.” You joke, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Damn, you’re so cute…” he mumbles, pulling you into a tighter embrace and leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering as he holds you closer.

Just as the kiss deepens, your phone rings, abruptly breaking the intimate moment. “Fuck, who’s calling at this hour?” you explode, reluctantly pulling away and reaching for your phone.

“Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you at the mall! Hailey’s dad already blocked her card,” Ally says in a rush, her voice tinged with panic, and you hear Hailey’s whiny voice in the background.

“Damn, the mall.” Todd exclaims, his face falling in realization. He immediately clamps his mouth shut, realizing he spoke too loudly, and looks at you apologetically.

“Ooh, who’s that?” your friend teases from the other end of the line. “Is it that cute guy from chemistry?”

“Shh!” you hiss, laughing softly. “He doesn’t need to know I have a massive crush on him.”

“Sorry, honey. You two go ahead and enjoy your date. There's still time for round two, you nasty kitten.”

“Go to hell, Alison,” you laugh, ending the call. You place the phone on the nightstand, sinking back into the soft, warm sheets, hoping to get back to the moment.

“Massive crush?” Todd repeats, his voice light and amused, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

“Don’t get cocky, Todd,” you tease, your eyes narrowing in mock warning. But your heart betrays you as you can’t help but smile. “Ah, who am I kidding? You’re such a sweetheart, my Toddy bear.”

“Of course, I’m gonna get cocky,” he responds with a confident laugh. “I’ve got a popular girlfriend now. I’m a loser, after all—this is basically the ultimate cliché.”

“Yeah, I think I can tolerate that,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully as you remember the nickname. “You’re periodic.”

“You’re the most periodic of them all,” he retorts, his smile growing wider. He pulls you even closer, his hands resting lightly on your waist. “The most explosive element on my periodic table. I think I should isolate you—you're just too dangerous.”

“That was ridiculously cheesy,” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes before leaning in to kiss him softly. “But I think you can keep that element to yourself, since you’re my boyfriend now.”

“Damn, that was fast.” He laughs, tightening his arms around you as if trying to keep you close, a sense of warmth and happiness flooding over him. “Thanks, periodic girlfriend.”

taglist:

@ikkyfics

@cafekitsune divider

[anbaisai]

Finally had time to sit down and write, but honestly there’s not much to be said other than thank you to everyone who wrote a message on my tree! I really enjoyed reading every single message and screenshotting to save them into a folder for when I need a lil boost ww (including one from Mr. Viper himself above that got a laugh out of me, thanks Jamil really appreciate you thinking I’m cool)

Some sappiness under the cut:

I never expected to receive this much support for my silly yume/oc ship content when I began posting, and I really don’t have the words to express how grateful I am. I’ve met many wonderful people through this fandom, and also just had lots of fun in general making art. I mean it when I say I genuinely never had this much motivation and inspiration to create for any fandom (or original content) in the past. There was a long, long period in my life during which trying to find even a crumb of motivation to draw felt impossible. There was always some reason that I couldn’t - be it school/life being too busy, feeling too tired, having other stuff to do first, etc. I thought I’d never rediscover my love and passion for art, until I finally pushed myself to design my Yuu for real (instead of just thinking about it) and then everything just snowballed from there. (For context, I began playing TWST in 2020 and, despite being very much in love with it, only began drawing anything for it this year.)

I have such a massive list of ideas that I still want to draw (plus several asks that I want to answer that I just haven’t had the time to yet), so I’m certainly going to be kept busy for a while. After previously making every excuse possible for not drawing, I’ve learned that yeah, once you really love something you will squeeze time out for it no matter how hard things get, because it kills you not to. All those times when I wondered when I’d ever be able to draw as much as my favourite artists now feel like a distant relic of the past, and I have Twisted Wonderland (especially Jamil) and this community to thank for it. If anyone reading this is going through something similar, I promise it gets better - you will need to put in the effort to make it start, but you will get there.

There’s also my past experiences of being in fandoms that, well, did not welcome yume/self-shipping type content. If I so much as thought of creating any, the fear of being ridiculed would make me back away from the idea immediately. I’m glad to see that sentiment seems to be no longer the norm, but also the TWST fandom has been one of the most supportive of yume content I’ve ever seen. To everyone wanting to participate but has been hesitating, you absolutely should! My only regret is not starting sooner, seriously. In a sense I feel like I'm fulfilling a childhood dream of mine, and all of my past hesitation and anxiety just dissipated once... as cringe as it sounds - once love took over. So go pour your love and passion into that character you adore, they deserve it.

Anyways, wishing everyone a happy holidays and happy new year! Here’s to another year of enjoying TWST and creating for the things we love ❤

[reiwanwan]

To my sweetheart, Happy holidays.

John Shelby x Wife! reader

a/n: This was rushed and not proofread, because I had the idea in my head and knew that I had to write it immediately before the idea would be lost. So apologies if there are mistakes in the grammar or spelling. Also I’ve never wrote for John before so I really wanted to try and I wanted to write something for the holidays , hope you like it! xx

“Goodnight my stars, thank you for being such wonderful older siblings yea? Close your eyes, mommy loves you both, always” Your two older children had been helping you at home with two of your younger children throughout the day, even putting them to sleep, while you dealt with the other remaining three all day while your husband, John Shelby was back at Small Heath to help out at the Garrison. You smoothed down their hairs and kissed their foreheads and turned your heel to slowly close the door behind you and walked back to your bedroom.

Many hours go by and you still couldn’t sleep, but this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You could only ever sleep peacefully when John was next to you, his body warmth against your cold skin, and his hands that always grabbed your body just because he liked to hold onto the softness of your curves. So instead, you went downstairs to sit on the couch in the living room, legs sprawled out and head resting on the cushion. Looking at the calendar across from your peripheral vision, you saw the date— 23rd December. Both you and John had planned to have a Christmas party, inviting all your friends and family, hoping that this would give a chance for your children to be able to meet their uncles, aunts, and their cousins which they had not seen in a very long time.

Staring at the ceiling fan, you started imagining what the party would be like on that special day. John would make a toast to his family, Arthur would get drunk and possibly black out on your porch, your children would be running around with their cousins in the backyard, and you would be having a lovely chat with Ada, Lizzie and Polly with wine and cigarettes in hand. Your lips pulled into a smile as you continued to daydream, and your eyelids slowly growing heavier at every second of it.

Your chest rises up and down at a slow and steady pace and your snores filled the living room. and you were blissfully unaware of the hand that was brushing your hair and tucking it to the back of your ears. Your eyes slowly open and your vision, still hazy but through all the haze, you knew who was waiting for you when everything would be all clear. Your man, John Shelby. He continued stroking your hair and placed a soft kiss on your forehead and in return, you gave him a warm and gentle smile. The sight of you— just woken up and groggy but still glowing nonetheless. As his hands cupped your face, his right thumb brushing your cheek while his left thumb wiped away the drool that had slid down your chin.

“I’m home sweetheart, sorry to keep you waitin for so long” John says as he sat on the couch with you but readjusted your body, laying your head on his lap, facing up so that he could look down at you. “No s’alright, I’m sure it must be hard delivering all the presents to families in the UK, isn’t that right Father Christmas?” You teased. He scoffs, “That’s right, it’s been tough on me…but I still managed to deliver em all, I’m bloody amazing aren’t I? and now, for being such a good girl, you’re gonna get your present early…cmere you”, He says as he leans down towards you and pulls you in for a kiss, your hands reached for his face, and your fingers lovingly combed through his brown hair. He cradled the back of your head while his other hand supports the small of your back.

When you both pulled away, you saw that boyish grin on his face, the same one you fell in love with when you were younger. Oh how you absolutely loved and adored his irresistible playful smile and immature personality, even though it often only ever brought you headaches because it made you feel that you had eight children instead of seven. “Hope you like your gift, love”. You sat up and placed your hands on his chest and gave him a tiny peck on his lips, placing your foreheads against each other. “Of course I did, it was actually one of the best gifts I’ve ever received in my whole life”.

The both of you stayed like that for a moment. Forehead still pressed against one another, his hands now rubbing on your back and on your thigh. Suddenly, he lifts you up bridal style, you let out a soft gasp to not wake your children. “John!” you cried out, giggling like a school girl as you kicked your legs. He carried you to your bedroom and gently tosses you onto the mattress and locks the door behind him. You barely get a moment to react when he tackles you and litters you with kisses on your neck, leaving you squealing and laughing at his antics. His body hovers above you as he looks at you with those big blue eyes, leaning to give your lips one last kiss, “Happy holidays sweetheart, I love you, always”.

@weepingdreammarvel @tomhardystories @vivianleighwishesshewasme

[tcrocky14]

ONESHOT: MERRILY ALONG—tennis! star x Paige

((Okay I’ve been writing on Wattpad and never thought to put my work on tumblr so here we go! Plz be gentle I’m still new at this but I love manifesting life with P))

———————————————————————————-

After the 2024 WTA Finals(which you won) you were excited for a real break. Grant you it's less than a month, and most of that will be spent doing sponsorship work and photo shoots, but you still couldn't wait.

After winning the Finals, you hopped on a plane to Miami still wearing your photo shoot dress from winner's photos. You were so excited to be sleeping on your own bed and to see your family. Life could slow down at least a little before you were back on Tour.

You were given two weeks to truly rest and exercise like a normal person before training would start back. You planned to visit Paige, but her season at UCONN was really just beginning. The timing couldn't have been worse but you knew she felt most comfortable on the court, just like you.

Since college basketball was firing up, her name was beginning to really skyrocket in the press. And her partnerships were increasing too. With you as the highest paid athlete in women's sports and P as the highest paid CWBB player, you were unstoppable!

Her shoe with Nike just dropped and you genuinely cried the day every player for UCONN wore them at their game! You wish you could wear them for a day for support but New Balance is your shoe home. It's so surreal that P has a shoe while in college but you believe she's always meant to break records and set trends. You're just happy the world mainly agrees with you on that.

On December 21st, UCONN & USC play each other, at arguably the biggest game of the year. You knew you wanted to be there because everyone's eyes would be on Paige and JuJu, which could get stressful. Maybe having you there as moral support would make it a bit better .  She's born for the world stage, but that doesn't mean you don't worry about her mental health.

You promised your team that you'd be back in Miami right after Christmas. They wanted you to play United Cup, especially since you didn't plan on defending the ASB Classic title , but you were prioritizing your relationship....for once.

This is Paige's (likely) last year in college and you want to be there for her. There's so many moments you both have to miss because of your athletic careers, and it's easy to feel disconnected when you're constantly in different time zones. Once she's in the WNBA, it'll hopefully be more flexible and you'll spend more time together. 

But for now, you weren't going to miss big moments for a WTA250 or United Cup. Your team wasn't the happiest about your plans, and tried convincing you to change your mind. But it was already set: you'd fly to Storrs, CT that day and watch Paige. Then you'd both fly out to Minnesota to see her family for Christmas. Her next game is the 27th so you'll fly back to Miami while she goes back to school. Even a few days together has you anxious to remind her exactly why being long distance is worth it.

You haven't told her, but you've picked out the perfect presents for her dad, stepmom, and Drew. You've also found something for your perfect gf. Drew has a game of his own the very day after her game, so you guys will be jet-lagged but supporting him. You've met Paige's family a few times now but you still feel jittery before arriving. You don't know why because they're the nicest people, yet you always want to show you're a great girlfriend with good energy.

——————-

You were still in Miami trying to pick out what you could wear to the game Saturday. It was Thursday night so you needed to start packing, especially since you wanted to pack light. Living life basically out of a suitcase made packing during the offseason a disgusting experience. The less you had to travel the better, yet it seemed you were never home for more than a few days. The life of a "celebrity" was taxing and companies knew offseason was a better time for your brand dealings. You wished you could do photo shoots  from home but you try to remember how many people would KILL to be in your position.

For the game, you're thinking of a look you saw Bella Hadid wear a few years back. A green NorthFace jacket with black barrel jeans and black loafers. You'll definitely be wearing your glasses to the game for an even more comfortable experience. Then, for traveling to Minnesota and for Drew's game you'll wear an oversized grey New Balance sweatshirt with sweatpants and a camo hat. Cute-comfy— your favorite!

You began folding the clothes not so neatly when your sister came in. She's back home from Tulane for the holidays and you're really going to miss her the few days you're gone. Having a younger sister is one of the best things in life and you miss when she's away for college. Although you guys text and call each other almost everyday it's different when she's in person.

"Whatcha doing??," Anna asked, using her best Isabella voice from Phineas and Ferb. "Packing for my trip and failing to fold my clothes neatly," you said. You're definitely going to need a steamer when you travel because your clothes are going to be wrinkled from this lazy folding.

"I wish I could come with you!" Anna said. And honestly, if it was just to watch the game, you'd for sure bring your sister along. But Christmas at the Bueckers' house is for their family only and you're just getting used to joining.

Most of the time, Paige visits your family because she loves the Miami weather and enjoys the area. It's difficult in Minnesota when it's cold more often than not and her family has normal jobs .

The Heller family feels like it orbits your tennis career, something you wish wasn't true but definitely is. Tennis is so demanding, even compared to other sports, and your family has sacrificed a lot for you to continue being a top player. Basketball is difficult and can be expensive, but college helps ease the journey a lot. While Paige is at UCONN her family still maintains a normal life. While for you, the matches and your traveling schedule can affect everything.

That's why this Christmas is so special. You have a few days to hang out casually before the holiday and really soak it what being a Bueckers is like. You'd never tell anyone right now, but you're hoping this is practice for the rest of your life. Although it's only been a year, you picture growing with Paige and starting a family of your own. You look at people like Stewie and can't help but hope to have a little family of your own someday. Being in good cahoots with her family right now is important and luckily, it's been great so far

—————————

Friday passes quickly, thank God, because you leave for CT Saturday morning. The plane ride is a bit bumpy but it's the cold that stings the most. As soon as you step off the plane you're hit with the bite of a Connecticut winter. It felt weird boarding the plane in multiple layers but you're so happy you didn't dress Miami-Style for this trip.

Since it's the day of the game, Paige has practice most of the day. That means her good friend Kayla volunteers to pick you up, and you're very excited. As a fellow Black girl, you and Kayla get along too good. Each conversation leads to cackling and you even have a few inside jokes together. As much as KK and Ice are your girls, Kayla's super cool people. AND she's not on the team, so she can help with times like this!

You wait for your luggage and a teenager comes up asking for a picture. She seems shell-shocked from meeting you, something you never get used to. You're almost positive the picture will be on "Frances Heller" and "Paige Bueckers" fan accounts in the next hour. People will surely speculate but this is a big game, and who can blame you for wanting to see it in person?

You spot Kayla, or rather hear her music, right when you step outside the airport gate. She gets out to help with your luggage but you've only brought two carry-ons: your Glossier duffle and a New Balance black backpack. Like you said: packing light was key for this trip.

You guys catch up on all things life before pulling into the apartment complex Kayla and the girls live in. You go to text Paige you've made it but you see she's already texted that she's in practice, but can't wait to see you.

"She was obsessing over your location on the Find app," Kayla says. "She literally was refreshing it every second before they had practice even though SHE KNEW you were on the plane and undetectable."

Just hearing Paige's name makes your heart beat faster. It's corny, you know it is, but imagine being so in love with someone and NEVER getting to see them. You can literally count on your hands how often you and Paige see each other throughout the year and that's with big compromises in both schedules.

You go up to Kayla's apartment and patiently (very impatiently) wait for bball practice to be over. Since it's game day, there's one short-ish practice during the day and then real practice before game time. You mimic Paige and begin refreshing all the apps you guys communicate through: text, Snapchat, Find, anything to see whether she's out.

Eventually, her DND status on text goes away and Kayla has to watch you become an absolute fool as you wait for your girlfriend. Paige gets back and knocks on Kayla's door which you open with every cell in your body.

"FRANNY!" "SWEET P!" You two collide into one another with the same energy. The hug says: "I miss you, I love you, how are you?, all at once. It's like every event and moment that's been missed since the last time you've seen another culminated into a tight hug that lasts forever.

"I miss you so so so much Paige," you say, trying not to cry. You're not necessarily sad, just overwhelmed and relieved . You can feel in her hug that she must feel the same, and any insecurities from a long-distance relationship go away like a puff of smoke.

You go back to their apartment while Paige makes a quick snack. Once she's finished eating. She lets you know she misses you in another way. Thank goodness you can't detect blushing on your skin tone because you feel like you're about to burst into flames.

It's been SO LONG since you've been intimate with anything besides a silicone toy and you miss Paige's body. After her shower at the facilities, her hair is still wet and slightly curly. It's one of your favorite looks on her and doesn't help your desire to absolutely devour her.

She tries to casually insinuate your unexpected trip to the car but everyone knows what's going on. You'd rather have sweet moments in her bed, but it'd be unfair to her teammates/roommates. And you can't kick everyone out of the apartment either, totally not cool. So instead you head out to Paige's Grand Cherokee at an excited pace and allow her to drive you to the back of the parking lot.

It's still romantic with the snow falling and your tight space to work with. She turns on the warmers in the SUV and asks you to head to the backseats. Her playlist designed for these *moments* begins playing softly and you savor every minute in the backseat of her car....

———————-

Once you guys finished (no pun intended) you head (maybe a bit puny) back upstairs. You try taming your hair and fixing your swollen lips as best you can. But let's face it, the women in this apartment are going to absolutely clown you both.

"Oh y'all back? It's been almost an hour! Where'd you say y'all was going again??" Kk, per usual, is the first person to say something. Everyone else smirks to one another and Jana even films to put on her private SC later.

"We was busy." That's all Paige says as she blushes, smirks, and daps up Ice and KK. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she exemplifies pure fukboy energy. You so badly want to hate it but it's kinda hot...which she definitely knows because she continues smirking in your direction. You sit next to her and try to redirect the conversation to ANYTHING else but it takes a minute.

They're superstitious about talking about the game so it's talk about your stuff instead. You tell them your plans with Paige for the next few days and how preseason warmups are coming along. Before you  know it, everyone's getting up because it's time for pregame. You give Paige a million kisses as she gets ready to leave and then wait around until it's time to get dressed and leave.

—————-

You're not sure Paige would love your mode of transportation to the game but what else could you decide? Uber's are booked the entire way and the school shuttles are only for actual students. If you didn't have to show a school ID you would've hopped on or hoped a driver was being super nice but few have even passed. So instead, you're walking to the XL arena.

It's really not that far, so you don't mind the walk. Except for the fact that it's FREEZING. You can feel the inevitable sickness building in your body as you continue walking but that's what you do for love. You'd laugh at how ridiculous you feel, if you could feel your face.

Finally you get to the game and it's beyond packed. You knew it was a big game and sold out but it's bonkers trying to get inside. Even with a special pass you have to wait to get inside, letting the frost continue to harass you.

Once you make it inside you see a few girls get out their phones to video your entrance. It's weird, because you feel slightly conceded about it. But you also feel violated. And you never feel quite important enough to be taped walking into a gym. Yet here you are, and there's the phones capturing every moment.

You're not sitting courtside since that's reserved for paying members. Instead, you're a few rows up. Nothing crazy, but not on the ground. You realize how awkward you feel without somebody tagging along and wish you maybe would've brought your sister. Or even your twin Jack. But what would they do while you loved up on Paige all day?

So instead you got on your phone and waited for the starting lineup presentation. You filmed the whole thing and couldn't even hear the announcer say Paige's name because of the screams. It made you feel so special being Paige's girl when plenty of college girls, and adult women, fought for her attention. From shirts and fathead signs to homemade posters, it was obvious she grabbed people's attention.

From the moment the game began, UCONN had a difficult time. You didn't know why, but something just wasn't clicking that clearly worked better for USC. You really like JuJu Watkins and had a hard time rooting exclusively for UCONN, but your girl comes first.

After fighting tooth and nail they finally started coming back. With 8 seconds left, the game was only being won by two points . You knew how badly Paige wanted to win, with the country watching....if not the world. But sometimes, it's not just about who wants it. Being a super-senior meant Paige had some great highs and some lower-lows. This, would in fact, become a low.

—————

It was obvious how frustrated P was with herself. She was SO hard on herself, as most athletes are. But as the oldest on the team, she really felt like she was letting everyone down. You could see it in her demeanor and how she spoke to press. You only hoped she'd be able to see all the positives from the game and release herself from the pressure of it all. It's much easier than it looks though, you know from experience.

After speaking to Fox sports and Holly Rowe, Paige was making her way over to you. A literal LINE OF PEOPLE had formed while she was being interviewed who wanted to take pictures and get her autograph. You knew she wouldn't leave till everyone was satisfied, something you admired about her. Each person felt important in her eyes and she made sure to let them know. How lucky you were to be with someone so humble and kind to anyone.

She told the crowd to wait one sec as she walked over to your section. Now you really knew people would film  this and talk about it for a while. But honestly , who cares. You were shocked she even saw you in the section because of how intense the game had been.

The security guard removed the tape so Paige could slip by and give you a big hug. You whispered in her ear that she was so amazing and you hoped she'd known how bright she shines on the court. She nodded but didn't seem affected by your words which kind of stung. You knew at least be a few hours had to pass before she was truly cheery again, right now was just a performance of her fans.

She asked you to wait around until they were leaving the arena and to join them on the team bus. You felt like this was a big overstep and didn't want to piss Geno off, especially after the loss. You made her promise it was fine and already approved before you agreed to join them on the bus.

The rest of the night was a blur until suddenly, you were laying on Paige's purple sheets with her head on your chest. You continued to stroke her head and tried falling asleep because your flight tomorrow was super early.

———————————-

At the airport, a few fans asked for pics with you and Paige. It was so funny how fans of Paige began "stanning" you like an extra piece to the Paige puzzle. At 5 in the AM you only could pray you didn't look awful in the fan photos since you knew that'd be on social media later. After taking pics you sat at the terminal and then boarded the plane. It really wasn't a bad experience, even with a connecting flight.

Paige's dad picked y'all up and you could tell she missed Minnesota. With the photoshoots and games and everything else she visited home less and less. When her dad got out of the car she turned into Baby P again, rushing to her dad's arms. It was so sweet and made you feel fuzzy that she collapsed in his hug. Maybe she was feeling better now!

Mr. Bueckers brought you into the hug and the three of you laughed as people watched. He was arguably the coolest guy in Minnesota besides Gov. Waltz. You guys left the airport and picked up Culver's on the way to Drew's game. Even with an early flight you guys were making it right on time.

Drew's game was so well and they won! Even better, Drew won MVP and got a comically large MVP chain to wear. You guys gassed him up hard and he blushed the entire time. It was cute seeing Paige loving on Drew like a child of her own. ...you really needed to stop thinking about Mommy P and focus lol.

——————-

Once Christmas rolled around, you'd gotten comfortable at the Bueckers house. The past few days had been so chill yet never boring. And you didn't feel like you were walking on eggshells around the family.

You wore an Oxford shirt with a sweater vest over it tucked into a plaid mini skirt with black tights. You looked adorable, like a Christmas present.

Y'all went to church and then headed home to unwrap presents. Drew wanted to open presents before Mass but it was way too early for that.

You got Paige's parents a gift they'd told her about a while back, a bar cart and a Baristia machine to make cocktails. Drew got a new game for his PS5 and promised to play with you whenever you were in town.

For Paige, you got her a custom stack of cards with paintings of you guys on it. She always loved sentimental gifts more than expensive ones and she really liked this! You also gave her a Tiffany necklace similar to yours with F+P engraved inside. She put it on and never took it off, even to sleep.

————

After a full day of festivities and meeting a few Bueckers you'd never met, it was time to go to bed. It was hard to fall asleep because tomorrow, you'd be on your way back to Miami and she'd be going back to UCONN. These few days were so good, you wish you could bottle them up for when you miss her most.

Right before you start falling asleep she tells you she has one more gift for you. She reaches in her bag and pulls out the most adorable stuffed bunny in a Christmas outfit. She gives you the bunny and tells you to press on her paw. When you do, Paige's voice starts to speak.

"Anytime you miss me, just press the paw, and I'll be right there!" She gives you the cutest little smile while she waits to see if you like her extra gift. "ALSO, I sprayed her clothes with some of my perfume, so hopefully she'll smell like me for a while too."

You try not to cry your eyes out at the audacity of your girlfriend to be so sweet. You never would've thought of such a unique and kind gift.

"Thank you so much Paige, I love it!" You see her relax a bit at her successful gift. "I can't believe you're real sometimes, you're too good to me!"

You don't meant to sound insecure or anything, but she shuts anything like that down. "I'm so happy we're together Franny, I'd go to the moon for you."

"Maybe even the North Pole?" You joke, since it's Christmas.

"I go to college in the middle of nowhere Connecticut Frances, that's basically the North Pole."

You two laugh and then settle into a comfortable sleeping pattern. You know tomorrow you'll have to say goodbye at least for 2-3 months. But right now, you can't think of a life without Paige Bueckers in it.

——-❤️‍🔥END❤️‍🔥——-

🎄Happy Holidays!

[marsmaximoff]

🎄; 25th of december ❄︎⋆˚⊹☃︎

content warning: fem!reader. pure fluff. many curses. reader is 20 and calls him “dym” as a short name, he calls her “love, darling and my love”. they’re dating. let me know if i missed something.

word count: 732 ❣️

author’s note: i wasn’t planning on posting anything for Christmas, but i got this idea and i had to write it. so, i apologize if the quality is not that good, as i usually spend days on my writings while this was all done on a matter of hours. also, english is my third language, so i’m sorry for the mistakes. constructive criticism is welcomed as always. thank you so much for the support on my last post, and merry christmas everybody! 🤍 happy hanukkah, kwanzaa, diwali or any other celebrations too 🫶🏻 and if you don’t celebrate anything, have a happy end of the year ✨ p.s.: god im in love with dmitri and almost no one is posting anything, i’ll probably post more of him. anyways, enjoy!! <3

the silk grazes my fingertips as i stretch my arm. i tentatively palm the bed looking for some warmth, for him. but the sheets and pillows are the only things left around me.

the screen of my phone clears up as i blink. 11:28 a.m. with a bit more of focus, the notifications slowly reveal themselves and my eyes travel through them searching for his name. nothing. he’d have texted me if something had requested his presence back at the office. although, he couldn’t have business to deal with on Christmas, right? not this soon, at least.

the pearly white snow greets me through the window making me stand up with a smile. how gorgeous. i make my way to the kitchen to grab something to drink while knotting my robe, and the shiny decor welcomes me effusively. i don’t realize at first, but a big and unfamiliar shadow catches my attention from the corner of my eye while i open the carton of juice.

“holy fuck. dym?”

our christmas tree, stunning as always, lays now almost drowned in presents. in fact, the stack is such, that i can’t even make out the floor for a good four-five steps. some light chuckles behind my back fill the room with the warmth i’ve been craving since i woke up. “beautiful, isn’t it?”

i turn around to dmitri sitting on the couch, staring at me with a huge grin. as if that number of gifts was the most normal sight in the world. “what the hell?” “you’ve had me waiting, darling. did you sleep good?” he asks affectionately.

“what are you, on your Santa Claus era?” i say looking at the presents again. he grants me that laugh that i adore so much as i try to give them a quick count, but after the twentieth, it starts to feel simply bonkers. they’re not even small ‘little treats’, oh no. there’s large boxes and bags everywhere.

“seriously, are you giving gifts to your whole fucking building? or is every one of your men getting one?”

“wrong. and. wrong” he says proudly, and once he’s in front of me, he just smiles. there are obvious love and joy in his eyes, which sends a cute fluttery feeling to my heart. “dmitri-“ his lips seal my words with a gentle kiss. “merry christmas, love”. a sparkle makes space on his gaze that could so easily compete with the star of the tree itself. wait. oh. oh. there’s no way.

his hands take mine and softly walk me towards the swimming pool of gifts. then, he sits close by and points at them with his head. “come on, darling. you’ve had me feeling all impatient”. he looks so excited. so cheerful. but i can’t help the slight guilt that takes over me. “dym, you’re crazy. tell me these are not only for me. you can’t- god do you even have an idea of how many there are?!” “40”. he doesn’t even take a single second to think about it. seriously, what the actual fuck? “two for every christmas i couldn’t spoil you in” this has to be a damn dream. “we’ve been friends since school!” i say grinning. “but we weren’t dating. so it doesn’t count. i wanted to make it special.” “you really didn’t have to” i refute. “i wanted to. please don’t make me wait anymore i need to see your reactions”. with a final glance, i turn around and grab the first one. “ohhh you’ll love that one!”

how can he be so cute? he wasn’t wrong, tho. it was a special edition of one of my favorite books. during the next hours, i go one by one, filling the room with gasps, yells, curses and many “oh my good”s and “thank you so much”s.

by the end of it, i’ve got clothes, books, headphones, plushies, a phone, jewelry, plane tickets, merchandising, signed stuff from famous people i love, and the cherry on top; a new car.

“you are mad. i love you so much but you’re mad” i say hugging him still shocked. “madly in love with you, you mean” he answers pulling back. “you liked them, then?” “loved them” he gives me another kiss, longer this time. “good. merry christmas, my love. i love you” he adds.

he can only hope i’ll love the ring just as much.

[bayon-ett]

@keferon Hey I’ve been reading your TexAid and Mecha au and all of the short stories people have been adding. I love it!

@spector-author Ive been reading your chapters too! And I wanted to add a few of my own, you inspired me haha.

So my idea is…Everyone here knows of Eddie and Venom right? I was wondering, what if there was an instance where FirstAid figured out how to ‘download’ Vortex to save both of them? I’m also going for a Mark Spector/Stephen Spector vibe. Both those character dynamics were my inspo for this.

I Listened to TOOL while writing this. I just feel like Vortex is that kinda guy. Also the title of the song is fitting. I linked it if anybody wants to listen while they read :D

Story Under the Cut ⬇️

FirstAid woke blearily. And he was, the world was… sideways? He tried to focus on, anything. The cockpit was dark save for the flashing red light every few seconds.

It was quiet. An alarm should be going off with the lights. He should hear the sparking internals of the console.

Concussion. The vertigo, hearing loss, and splitting headache being anything to go by.

Green letters scrolled across the monitor. FirstAid tried to focus his eyes, his vision swimming.

YOU NEED TO RUN!

YOU NEED TO RUN!

YOU NEED TO RUN!

FirstAid blinked.

I CANT-

CANT CONTROL ANYTHING

GET OUT

THEY’RE COMING

FirstAid fumbled around for his seatbelt until he finally found the release button. He slid out of the chair and hit the side of the cockpit with a groan. He struggled to stand up. A sudden wave of nausea made him abandon the idea, gritting his teeth against the pain behind his eyes. The dull red light above causing a stab of pain in his head whenever he opened them.

“Whats iss goingonn-“ He slurred out, trying to remain upright.

DOESN’T MATTER. YOU NEED TO GO.

FirstAid chuckled weakly, slowly dissolving into somewhat manic laughter. Laughter that turned into a groaning and coughing fit.

“Vortex, I’m not m-making it fivestepsss.”

There was silence.

FirstAid tried to move towards the console. Every time he turned his back a certain way it would send pain shooting from his hip to his shoulders.

He drug himself along the console counter, trying to look at the cameras, the pop up display, anything to give him an idea of what was wrong.

FIRSTAID YOU NEED TO LEAVE

WHEN THEY GET HERE THEY’ll BE ABLE TO SMELL YOU

THEY’LL TEAR ME-THIS-THE COCKPIT APART TO GET TO YOU

“Worried about me are you?” FirstAid swiped his hand accross the control screen weakly, smearing blood across it. Where was he bleeding from?

From what FirstAid’s spotty vision could make out it looked like multiple hydraulic lines had been disconnected. The connection between the main frame and the rest of the relays to Vortex- The mecha’s body were not transmitting. A bright ‘SIGNAL LOST’ on the top of the screen.

“Shit shit shit-“

FIRSTAID I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE I WILL SEND YOU TO JESUS MYSELF

“What about you?” FirstAid asked, more of a muttering to himself. Vortex could read his thoughts so it’s not like he needed to really say anything out loud.

ITS BEEN FUN DOLL BUT OUR TIME TOGETHER HAS COME TO AN END

NOW GO

BEFORE I END YOU IN A LESS PAINFUL WAY THAN THEY WILL

The main frame. The main frame was disconnected from the body. So Vortex was stuck in the main frame. If this were to translate to a human body, it would be equatable to a spinal injury at the neck.

FirstAid scrambled to grab the pilots helmet, putting it on gingerly.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?

“Something stupid.”

FirstAid swiped through the control consul quickly, synching his consciousness with the mecha, Vortex’s anger and more surprisingly, anxiety, filled his head.

WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING-

“GIVE ME A MINUTE TO THINK.” FirstAid ground out, “Please.”

FirstAid had never actually fully synched with Vortex. The mecha. Not the way pilots usually did anyway. Vortex controlled it on his own, FirstAid was only along for the ride most of the time. Vortex was in his head regardless.

After fully synching he heard Vortex in his mind clear as a bell, clearer as he’d ever heard him, shouting at him.

His finger hovered over the ‘DISCONNECT FROM MECHA, REURN FULL SYNC TO PILOT’ option on the screen.

FIRSTAID YOU FUCKER I SWEAR-

FirstAid slammed on the button, an electric shock like sensation going through him before everything went dark.

…

FirstAid woke up in the middle of the desert, puking his guts up onto the cold dry dirt. Lovely.

After dry heaving for what felt like forever he sat back on his heels, catching his breath.

He stood slowly, every twist or bend past a certain point making his back smart. He stood stiffly, slowly moving around to try and get a feel of his range of motion. Which was not very much at all.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings. After a few moments of spinning in circles he could say confidently that he had absolutely no clue where he was. No sign of beasts anywhere though. Small mercy that. The mecha, Vortex, was also nowhere to be seen. He sighed, picked a direction, and started walking.

It felt like First Aid simply blinked, and he was… on top of the mecha, elbow deep in the internals of the machine. He had enough time to turn away before retching again, his vision going spotty. He held his head gingerly, his hands smearing grease on his face and in his hair.

He blinked again, and he was sitting in the mecha, strapped in. His hands were on the controls! He abruptly let go of them, the machine stopping in its tracks as he did so. That never happened.

Did Vortex… did he die? For real this time? Did FirstAid accidentally delete his consciousness from the mecha or something? Did he-

He blinked again and was climbing out of the mecha onto the scaffolding. At the base. He was back at base. He almost tripped and fell onto the platform before catching himself.

He blinked again and Ratchet was standing in front of him looking, kind of freaked out. Ratchet never looked freaked out.

“Ratchet?” FirstAid questioned.

Ratchet blinked at him. FirstAid just noticed he was holding onto a wrench. Standing in the corner. FirstAid was crowding him into a corner.

“Who am I talking to right now?” Ratchet asked, searching FirstAid’s eyes.

FirstAid made a face. “Ratchet its me…”

The room spun, and the world went dark again.

…

Thats all I got for now. I’m going to keep adding to this cuz Keferon’s idea is so good! I want to add Ratchet and Vortex’s POV to this little snippet so… that will come soon.

I love everyone’s little snippets/chapters they’re adding to this au and I think its so cool :) This is not proofread so please point out any mistakes in the comments.

[stripedstarsblueflags]

Sunshine boy

Word count: 3.5k

Pairing: Landoscar

Rating: T for substance use

caught in the rain

omg did blueflags just write fluff?

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Oscar says. “Remind me how you got this number?”

On the other end of the line, Max Fewtrell is not amused. “Mate, I’ve had it,” he grumbles, huffing into the speaker like he’s struggling with something. Oscar winces at the static and pulls the phone away from his ear. “And, seriously, you’re worried about that now? We’ve got bigger problems.”

From the background, a giggling voice slurs, “Hi Osc!”

Oscar allows himself one second of blushing and butterflies at hearing Lando’s voice; then Max’s concern spreads to him as well. He listens as Max attempts to calm him down from… whatever’s going on. “Hey, Lando, come on, look at me… take some deep breaths– no, no, don’t eat that–”

“What’s going on?” Oscar interjects, standing up and pacing. His anxiety is immediately conjuring up worst-case scenarios, and it’s not helping. He walks to the window and looks out at the night outside; some fresh air would be nice, but it’s been absolutely pouring for the last few hours and shows no signs of abating now. “Is he okay?”

“I’m okay!” Lando sings, so loud into the speaker that Oscar flinches and nearly drops the phone. There’s some more scuffling on their line, presumably as Max swipes his phone back. “He’s not,” Max contradicts firmly as Lando whines petulantly in the background. He has to raise his voice over a white-noise roar in the background, Oscar notes.

“Did he take something?” Oscar asks. He looks to the front door where he’s left his shoes. He thinks about driving fast in this kind of rain– it’s not that he can’t do it, it’s that none of the other drivers on the road can. “And where are you guys?”

“I found him in a park, stoned out of his mind,” Max tells him. The roar in the background gets louder, like a busy street. “I don’t know who he was smoking with, he’s not really giving me complete sentences, but–”

“That’s because you’re not nice,” Lando complains. “See? That’s complete. Tha’s very complete…”

As worried as he is, Oscar can’t help but feel an almost painful sense of endearment. As cute as he is, though, Lando has apparently had some lapses of judgement tonight.

“Are you outside?” Oscar asks, just as a roll of thunder rumbles overhead. “In this?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Max says, urgency creeping into his tone. “He’s locked out. No keys, no wallet. He called me on a payphone. I mean, thank god I know his spots…”

Oscar swears under his breath. He can’t take his eyes away from the storm outside, the way the rain slices through the air in cold sheets and spills over rooftops with whitewater force. “Okay, okay,” he says, mostly to himself as he tries to thinks. “You drove there, right? Can you at least–”

“We’re walking to my car right now,” Max confirms. “And normally I’d just let him crash at mine, but I’ve got family visiting this weekend. They can’t see him like this. Fuck, Lando, I told you to keep your arm around my shoulders– sorry,” Max apologizes. “He’s a lot to handle right now. Listen, Oscar, I’ve already called half a dozen people. If there was anyone else, I wouldn’t–”

Oscar puts the pieces together over Max’s fumbling. “You want to drop him off at mine?”

“I’ve got a spare,” Max says quickly, talking in a rush like he’s scared Oscar will hang up. “Somewhere, I mean. I didn’t have time to find it before I went out to get him, I can go back to my place and look for it properly but I don’t know how long that’s gonna take and I don’t want to leave him alone in the car too long and–”

“Max, it’s fine,” Oscar interrupts. It’s only when Max sighs, full of relief, that he starts wrapping his head around what he’s just agreed to.

“Thank you,” Max tells him sincerely. “You’re a good guy, Oscar. Knew I could count on you.”

Oscar bites his lip against the sudden warmth in his face, overwhelmed by the compliment, and tries to push his embarrassment aside. “Right,” he mutters. “Um, don’t mention it. How far away are you?”

“I need your address, first.”

Lando, sounding no less coherent, pipes up: “‘S in my phone already.”

“What?” Oscar and Max say at the same time.

“Lando, you don’t have your phone,” Max reminds him. Then, to Oscar: “Why does he have your address?”

“Um–” Oscar is uncharacteristically flustered at the interrogative tone in Max’s voice, which seems to imply something far beyond the mundane situation. “Uh, he dropped me off from padel, once, we were playing with–”

“Okay, yeah,” Max concedes. Whatever that edge was in his voice (suspiciously like jealousy) is smoothed out before Oscar can make sense of it. “Listen, just text me your address and I’ll tell you when we’re close. Also, uh–” Max clears his throat. “He’s, like, soaking wet, so–”

“I’ll take care of him,” Oscar assures him.

“Oscooooo,” Lando coos happily.

He hears Max open a car door, and the call ends sometimes in the midst of Max trying to manhandle Lando into the passenger seat, which is a relief. Oscar doesn’t think he can say a single word without stammering now.f

If Lando sounded out of it on the phone, Oscar is definitely not prepared for what’s standing on his doorstep.

Both Max and Lando are drenched to the bone, water pooling under their shoes and into the hallway carpet. Max must’ve given one of his layers to Lando because he’s only wearing a t-shirt, which is plastered to his skin and nearly transparent. Despite the extra jumper, Lando’s shaking so badly that Max has to hold him upright.

“Shit,” Oscar say. “You guys look terrible.”

“Nice to see you too, Oscar,” Max grumbles, slinging Lando’s arm over his shoulders right before he starts sliding.

“Nice to see you, Oscar,” Lando mimicks dopily, eyes glazed. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose are a blotchy red like he’s been badly sunburnt, while the rest of his skin is frighteningly pale. His teeth are chattering too hard for him to keep his mouth closed, and there’s a slight glisten of drool on his chin

Oscar quickly opens the door wider and beckons them both inside. Max struggles to get Lando to coordinate his feet enough to walk; Oscar reaches out instinctively, then immediately draws his hands back like he’s been burned. He aches watching the two of them struggle, but it’s one thing to agree to help Lando, and quite another to… what, cradle him? Carry him? Surely if Lando were sober he’d have objections–

“Did, uh,” he starts eloquently. “Did he, like, OD? Is that even a thing with weed?”

Max shakes his head and braces himself against a wall so he can adjust his grip on Lando’s waist. Lando watches the dark handprint spread under his palm and drip rainwater onto the carpet, mesmerized.

“He didn’t, and no,” Max says, in answer to Oscar’s questions. “But his tolerance is practically nonexistent. Worst I’ve ever seen. And knowing him he probably forgot to eat…”

“Sorry,” Lando mumbles, confirming.

Max sighs. “We’re gonna have a talk about this, you and I. Don’t think you get off easy just cause you’re with Oscar.”

Oscar’s taken aback, but before he can begin to wrap his head around what that might mean, Max nods at him. “Thanks again for your help. I’ll be back as soon as I can to take him home, just gotta remember where I left that fucking key.”

“Okay.” Max is clearly exhausted. Oscar finally reaches out without second-guessing himself; Max looks at him gratefully before stepping closer and finally shifting Lando’s dead weight from his own arms to Oscar’s.

Lando stumbles, nearly knocking them both off balance, and then curls into Oscar immediately. Oscar flinches and draws in a sharp breath; it’s like hugging a block of ice. Lando is absolutely freezing, and his rain-drenched clothes are quickly soaking Oscar as well. He shivers so hard Oscar can hear the spasm in his breathing, everything too tense for him to catch his breath. He closes his eyes and makes a sound like a mewling kitten and burrows into Oscar’s chest, tucking his face into his shirt.

”You got him?” Max asks, flicking water out of his eyes.

Oscar’s got him. One arm wraps firmly around Lando’s waist, maintaining their balance despite the actual pain his bare skin experiences from how cold Lando is, and the other cups the back of his head in his hand and draws his face closer to his own body heat. Lando hums against him, and Oscar can feel the vibration at the base of his sternum.

“Yeah,” Oscar answers belatedly. “I can find some clothes for him, something comfy…”

“Good. You do that.” Max gives him one pained smile, failing to suppress his own shudders, and steps back over the threshold. “I owe you one.”

Before Oscar can explain that Max doesn’t owe him anything, that he’s happy to help, that he would’ve offered without being asked if he’d have known, that’s he’s actually rather irritated that he wasn’t higher up on the list of people Max had called, come to think of it–

Max leaves, closing the door behind him.

Oscar is left alone with a very cold, very wet, very stoned Lando Norris.

Lando’s ragged breathing is the loudest noise in the flat. He’s squirming in Oscar’s arms, nuzzling insistently at his chest like he’s trying to climb inside of Oscar. His hands are so cold they leave painful stinging impressions wherever they touch Oscar’s skin.

“God, Lando,” Oscar murmurs. “You’re freezing.”

Stating the obvious. Lando moans miserably in agreement.

“Yep, okay. Follow me. Uh, can you walk?”

Apparently Lando can, as long as he’s allowed to cling to Oscar like a giant half-frozen octopus at the same time. The walk down the hall to the bedroom is agonizingly slow, but every time Oscar tries to detach himself to get them both moving quicker Lando cries out. He’s very much not in his right mind, but he still sounds so pained that Oscar lets himself be nearly frozen along with him in the simple quest to get to the end of the hall.

He has to physically pry Lando’s arms off him in order to sit him on the bed. Lando whines and reaches out into the air, trying to pull him back and missing atrociously. Oscar peers into his eyes; there’s not a spark of recognition or self-awareness. All Lando understands is that he’s cold, and the only bit of warmth is going away.

”Lando, please, just stay here,” Oscar pleads, only belatedly realizing he’s using the same voice he used with their family dog. “I promise I’ll be right back, I just need to get some extra clothes for you, okay? Something warm.”

“Mm’kay,” Lando mumbles, nodding too many times. He wraps his arms around himself, but his strength is visibly fading. His lips have darkened to a bruise-like blue. Not a good sign.

“Stay here.” Oscar moves quickly, digging through his drawers to find the warmest possible outfit. He gathers everything he needs and turns back to Lando, sitting near-catatonic on his bed, and stalls.

“Um,” he says, clearing his throat when Lando shows no response. “Hey. Lando.”

A flicker of awareness. Lando’s eyes focus on him for a split second, then cross.

Oscar approaches him, tentatively holding out the clothes like he’s holding out a treat to a stray dog. “Bathroom’s over there,” he says, gesturing with his chin. When Lando doesn’t react, he adds, “You need to get out of these clothes. You’re soaked, you’re gonna get sick.”

To his relief, Lando finally seems to hear him; unfortunately, some crucial parts of the sentence have evidently been missed as Lando starts trying to wriggle out of his shirts right there.

“Woah, uh, you sure–“ Oscar squeezes his eyes shut, which is stupid since Lando’s got so many layers on that he’s not even a little indecent, but he finds it easier to talk without looking. “You sure you want to do that here? And not in the bathroom? Or I could like, step out and–”

”No-o-o-!” Landos’ voice is so broken by shivers that Oscar’s resolve simply melts. He steps forward to help his friend.

It’s a lot quicker with the two of them working together. When Oscar finally pulls Lando’s last shirt over his head, exposing his bare chest and arms, he makes such a pained yelp that Oscar scrambles to get the dry clothes on him like he’s being timed.

With a lot of fumbling and strategically averted glances, they finally manage to get Lando completely redressed. His hair is still dripping, but he looks much more comfortable in fleece pajama pants and a hoodie so big it goes down to his thighs. His fingers don’t even reach past the sleeves; it looks like he’s got big paws instead, floppy when he reaches for the hood and pulls it up.

Oscar’s teased Lando about their height difference a few times, but right now he looks tiny. Red-rimmed eyes blinking up at him from the shadow of the hood, shoulders all but swallowed up in the fabric, hands tucked primly inside the sleeves as Lando rocks on his heels.

It feels only natural when Oscar opens his arms and welcomes Lando back into his embrace. Lando, to his credit, seems a lot more coordinated now that he’s not wearing half his weight in rainwater. He slides his arms under Oscar’s and holds him around the waist, letting his head rest on Oscar’s chest like it’s his new favorite pillow. “Thanks, Osc,” he sighs contentedly.

The nickname that can seem so mundane in the media activities feels suddenly, vulnerably intimate. Well, Lando’s never said it with his lips pressed right up against him, has he?

To distract himself, he tries to focus on just getting Lando away from the brink of hypothermia. He tightens his grip and rubs up and down his back with open palms. “You’re still so cold,” he frets, just to have something to say.

“Nmshph’ you,” Lando protests.

Oscar places his warm hand over the back of Lando’s neck, still refrigerator-cold. “What was that?” he asks.

Lando mouths at empty air a few times before he speaks, like he’s trying to form the sentence before his mind is ready. “I said ‘Not with you’,” he answers.

Oscar inhales a little too sharply.

This does not mean anything this does not mean anything this does not–

He just needs to keep the tremor out of his voice. He just needs to be normal about this.

He closes his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll keep you warm.”

To describe Lando’s response as anything other than a purr would be simply delusional.

Oscar’s hands move without his permission, seeking up to run shaky fingers through Lando’s hair. He’s careful to be gentle around the tangles. It’s still wet, but no longer dripping in small waterfalls into his eyes, so that’s an improvement. Lando sways his head from side to side, like he’s encouraging Oscar to keep going.

So he does. Lando’s breathing evens out, the shivering smoothed over. His eyes flutter shut.

“Do you want to lie down?” Oscar asks.

Lando nods tiredly against his chest, so he carefully walks them both over to the bed. Stripping back the covers proves to be a challenge, because Lando is putting more and more weight on him by the minute. His shoulder is starting to cramp up, an unpleasant stiffness making its way into his neck.

“Lando,” he huffs tiredly. “This would be easier if you could just step ba–”

“So pretty,” Lando murmurs.

Now Oscar might be the one turning to ice, with how quickly his whole body falls into stillness. “Uh,” he begins gracelessly, a pillow slipping out of his hands and back onto the mattress with a thwump that makes Lando giggle. “Erm, what was that?”

He’s asking in the confused, self-denying hope that Lando will either realize he didn’t mean what he just said or will have forgotten the thought entirely. No such luck, though, as Lando finally leans against the bed and allows Oscar’s shoulder a much-needed respite. He turns a bit and tries to arch his back to lean away from Oscar without completely detaching himself, but he doesn’t quite have the coordination. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he places his sweater paws on Oscar’s waist.

Looking down at the position, Oscar’s brain short-circuits.

It looks like they’re dancing. Not even in an elegant, romantic way, more like two school kids who are trying not to get caught by the chaperone.

Oscar brings his eyes back to Lando’s upturned face, bedsheets all but forgotten. Lando still looks so small, swimming in Oscar’s clothes, looking up dazedly through his eyelashes. The smile flickering on his lips could light up the whole room. “You’re so pretty,” he hums contentedly. “What are we doing?”

“What?” Oscar snaps himself out of it seconds after the question leaves his mouth; he does not need to give Lando any more prompting. His face is burning. He’s a little out of breath. He needs to find some way to neutralize this situation, to get himself and his own live-wire feelings away from this…. what, danger? temptation?

“We,” he says, answering Lando and talking over his own spiraling stream of consciousness, “are getting you ready for bed. And then Max is going to come back and take you home.”

“Tu tu tu tu…”

“No, not that Max. The other Max.”

Lando nods sleepily and, to Oscar’s immense relief, finally starts climbing into the bed. Oscar puts his hands behind his head so he doesn’t death-drop it into the wall.

Then Lando’s brow furrows. “Why?”

“Wh– because he has a key. To your flat.”

Lando shakes his head. “Why,” he repeats again with a petulant frown. “Got a bed right here.”

Oscar swallows. “Yeah, but that’s my bed.”

Lando shakes his head again and opens his mouth like he wants to argue, but instead settles for reaching into the air and making weak grabby hands for Oscar. “‘s your bed,” he reasons.

Oscar allows himself a split second of imagination: the two of them, curled together under the covers, the whole room blanketed in the shushing sounds of the rain outside. Lando curling into him like he’s finding some sort of sanctuary in Oscar’s arms.

Then he decides his best escape plan is going to be lying through his teeth: “Um, that’s okay, actually, I’m not tired…”

“Yeah, but I am.”

Something about that last sentence sounds scarily sober all of the sudden. Oscar peers into Lando’s eyes, trying to discern the bloodshot threads that mean the drug still has a dominant hold over his mind. In the dim lamplight of his bedroom, it’s hard to tell. Lando seems to like the attention, though, staring back with what can only be described as awe.

“Pretty,” he whispers, his voice barely audible on the edge of a sleepy exhale. His eyelids are starting to slide shut, slow and heavy as syrup. “Come to bed.”

He sounds tired, but he doesn’t sound nearly as out of it as he did even ten minutes ago.

Something between excitement and panic ignites in Oscar’s chest like a gas fire. His mind races two steps ahead of him, providing an onslaught of horrifying what-ifs: what if Lando comes to his senses and pushes him out of the bed, what if he realizes what’s going on and thinks Oscar is trying to insinuate something, what if he changes his mind about what he means when he’s obviously delirious and half-frozen to death, what––

What if he means it?

Whatever the case, the regretful, abrasive Lando in Oscar’s head is nothing compared to what’s curled up in his bed right now. Longing eyes, reaching hands. Rain-matted curls making little loop-shaped impressions on the pillowcase.

Who would he be to say no?

Oscar climbs carefully into the bed.

His initial plans to stay within the narrow strip of space between Lando and the edge of the bed are dashed immediately.

Lando finds him under the blankets and goes full koala. Within seconds of lying down he’s wrapped in so much Lando that the blankets feel like an afterthought. Lando’s practically lying on top of him.

Oscar tries to keep his breathing under control. He can’t remember the last time he was this close to… well, anyone. Their legs are entwined. Lando’s arm is slung across his waist, head back on his chest like he could build a home there.

And the thing is, it doesn’t feel dangerous. It doesn’t feel like temptation.

There’s no fear here, no second-guessing anxiety or hysterical self doubt.

He’s under the covers with Lando, and it feels right.

Lando’s still a little cold. Oscar shifts up just enough to free one of his arms and wrap it around Lando’s shoulders. Lando curls into him, purring again.

It’s nice.

“Thanks, Osc,” Lando sighs, voice muffled by Oscar’s shirt.

Oscar finds his free hand lifting to card through Lando’s hair again. He can’t help it. “Yeah,” he says as Lando nestles in, savoring all the warmth Oscar has to give, “anytime.”