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wafflefries13 · 1 day ago

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Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)

Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!

AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.

Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

Part 2: First Dates

The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din.

“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full.

“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said.

Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.”

“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.”

“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly.

“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?”

“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.”

Ace:

“Ace!”

Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?”

“Do you want to go out with me?”

Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited.

“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?”

“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?”

Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”

“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.”

“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.”

“What made you think that?”

“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.”

From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted.

Deuce:

“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?”

(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks.

“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?”

“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.”

(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?”

“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.”

Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her.

“(Y/N),” He began.

She clasped her hands together. “Yes?”

“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him.

Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much.

Trey:

“Ow!”

Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven.

“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!”

“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said.

“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?”

“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor.

“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!”

Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim.

“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”

“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn.

“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”

“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?”

Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”

Cater:

Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed.

He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one.

Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it.

Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before.

It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.

Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing.

(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.)

Riddle:

Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door.

“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!”

Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?”

(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!”

Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?”

Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses..

“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction.

‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’

“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?”

“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-”

“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.”

The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands.

“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.”

“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?”

“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love.

“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?”

(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?”

“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug.

Leona:

“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away.

(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached.

“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him.

“Hmm,” He replied.

“I have something important to ask you.”

“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.”

“Alright, ask away.”

“Will you go out with me?”

Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer.

“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.”

“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat.

Ruggie:

Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort.

“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled.

“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had).

“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!”

Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?”

Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh.

Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?”

“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?”

“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.”

Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?”

Jack:

Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown.

“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked.

“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk.

Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore.

Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?”

(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?”

“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.”

Azul:

Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently.

“Oh? I’d love to hear it.”

Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date.

“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?”

Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes.

“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?”

He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.”

Jade:

(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?”

“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.”

Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice.

“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-”

“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table.

Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire.

“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.”

“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased.

(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?”

Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.”

Floyd:

Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her.

She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often.

Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs.

“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?”

“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!”

Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.

“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.”

“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.”

Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.”

She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.”

Kalim:

Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work.

He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside.

“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?”

There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered.

“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything.

“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.”

Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?”

“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.”

“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.”

(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.”

They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace.

“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!”

(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?”

Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?”

Jamil:

“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil.

Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.”

“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!”

“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?”

Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.”

“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table.

Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!”

Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.”

“But you told me you liked her!”

“I said no such thing.”

Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.”

“There were no lines!”

“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back.

Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway.

(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.”

“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting.

Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name.

“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?”

“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.”

Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him.

“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway.

“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?”

(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.”

Vil:

Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing.

Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here.

Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk.

Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar.

“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles.

A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world.

Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?”

Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.”

Rook:

“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.”

“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.”

“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.”

Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said.

“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made.

“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off.

(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.”

“Bonjour, Trickster.”

“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.”

Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.”

“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading.

(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!”

“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?”

“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug.

Epel:

Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere.

He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever.

Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues.

Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’

That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood.

Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’

Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes.

“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?”

“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile.

She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?”

Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.”

Idia:

Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves.

The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support.

One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten.

“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!”

Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time.

“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!”

“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’”

Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice.

He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed.

He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts.

He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.”

Silver:

(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk.

(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.”

Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer.

(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees.

A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her.

“Hi,” She said. “Would you want to go out with me?”

Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red.

(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?”

Sebek:

“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot.

“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged.

Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full.

Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!”

“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?”

Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?”

“Sure,” Epel said.

(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along.

Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality.

“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.”

“Blessing?”

“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?”

For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.”

Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.”

Lilia:

Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him.

So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two.

“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face.

“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.”

Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well.

“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly.

“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back.

Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.”

Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway.

“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp.

Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?”

(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage.

“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?”

Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?”

Malleus:

Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble.

“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles.

In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her.

“What’s all this?”

She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?”

Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said.

She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.”

“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show.

Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”

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inthemiddleofmae · 1 day ago

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everything is romantic - paul mescal x reader

summary - you and paul take a trip to italy during the summer. lots of photo-taking and kissing.

word count: 761

a/n: everybody say thank to pedro pascal for these photos that have got me going absolutely feral!!!!!!!! it is absolutely freezing where i’m from and seasonal depression is getting to me so i’m writing something about summer to make me happy :) and thank you so much for the love on my last fic it means the world <3 i hope you enjoy this one just as much!!

the air smelt of salt and wild rosemary as you and paul walked down a narrow cobblestone street in the amalfi coast, hands locked together in a tight, loving embrace. paul had his beloved camera round his neck; a gift you had gotten him when you first started dating.

the sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a golden glow that seemed to warm everything it touched. the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore played like a lullaby in the background.

“this doesn’t feel real,” you said, your voice tinged with awe as you glanced up at the laundry fluttering on balconies.

paul looked over at you, a loving smile playing on his lips. “you’ve said that every ten minutes since we got here.”

“well, it still doesn’t!” you shot back, bumping his shoulder lightly. “it's unlike anything i've ever seen before. how am i supposed to stop talking about it?”

he laughed, gently letting go of your hand so he could grab your waist and pull you even closer as you both wandered down the uneven path. “i like it when you ramble. means you’re happy.”

you felt your face suddenly get hot. “i'm not just happy. i’m...i don’t know. full.” you gestured around. “this place, this trip, being here with you - it’s everything.”

paul stopped walking and turned to face you, his blue eyes warm and soft as they searched your face. “you’re everything.” he said, and you swore you could actually feel your heart swell.

you wrapped your hands around paul's neck as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a passionate series of pecks and one longer kiss that you both fought for control over. as you both realised your very public environment, you pulled back. you couldn’t help but smile as you rested your forehead against his.

“alright, lover boy,” you teased, though your voice was thick with affection. you stepped away from him and paused in front of a charming doorway painted a faded blue with potted geraniums clustered at its base. with a pout and a few bats of your eyelashes, you then said, "can you take a picture of me?"

rolling his eyes but unable to suppress his smile, paul raised the camera and pointed it at you.

you leaned against the blue door, tilting your head slightly as you brushed your hair back. paul snapped a few shots, then lowered the camera, his expression softening.

“alright, one more,” he said. “but don’t pose this time.”

“i wasn’t posing!”

“you definitely were,” he teased, lifting the camera again. “just laugh or something.”

you huffed a laugh at his instructions, and in that moment, he took a photo that he would never forget; your head was tilted back slightly, sunlight was on your face, and your eyes crinkled with happiness - he was unsure if he'd ever seen you look so beautiful.

when you realised paul had stopped taking photos and was now staring intensely at his camera, you ran forward and playfully smacked his arm. “let me see, babe.”

paul handed over the camera with a grin. as you scrolled through the pictures, you smile widened. “okay, these are actually really good. you’re getting better.”

“fuck off,” he said with a laugh, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

the two of you walked further down the street, but after a while decided to pause on a set of wide, sun-warmed stone steps to take a break from wandering. paul was in front of you, resting his elbows on his knees as he scrolled through his phone.

without a word, you picked up paul's camera that was still in your possession and adjusted the lens. the light hit him just right, illuminating the soft lines of his roman profile, his hair ruffled slightly from the breeze. you snapped a photo, then another, the sound of the shutter drawing his attention.

paul tilted his head at you and laughed. “you’re supposed to be taking pictures of the scenery, not me.”

“you’re part of the scenery,” you said cheekily, snapping another.

"alright give me back my camera - i'm starving, lets get some lunch." paul said, playfully snatching his camera out of your hand as he rose from his seat. he placed the camera back around his neck as he gave you his hand to help you rise from your own seat.

"you're my lunch, too,' you said, bringing your lips close to paul's ear once you had gotten up, and you watched his face turn pink.

#paul mescal #paul mescal x reader #lucius verus #lucius verus x reader #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #gladiator ll #pedro pascal #fluff

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rainroses45 · 2 days ago

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Cherry Pie with Whip

ᥫ᭡description: Dean thinks there is not a single coherent thought behind those eyes, you prove him wrong ish Dean Winchester x Bimbo Fem! Reader ᥫ᭡a/n: I can't write the whole smut thing BUT I LOVE GIRLY POP READER SO MUCH ALSO LOVE THIS SONG SO VERY MUCH (Not Edited) ᥫ᭡song inspo: Every Man Gets his wish - Lana Del Rey ᥫ᭡warning: mentions of the devils tango

"Dean, I don't get it," you whined, your new glossy pink nails tapped against the table as you tilted your head, lips in a perfect pout. "Why does it have to be salt? Can't we just, like, use sugar or something? It's prettier."

Dean smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the floor. "Sweetheart, if sugar worked on ghosts, trust me, l'd be throwing cupcakes at 'em." His voice dripped with amusement, “next time you can add glitter to the salt.”

You smiled up at him, your top hitched up as you reached over to place your hands around Dean’s neck. He squeezed you closer to him, pushing your bosoms up.

“Have I ever told you how much I love cherries,” he gazed into your eyes. The fresh coat of mascara and the shimmery eyeshadow made you look like a lost innocent baby doe.

“We should go get cherry pie,” you smiled innocently, unaware of the tall older man starring down your shirt. Your cleavage on full display for his lust full eyes.

“I think I got something better here.” He smirked. “Something bigger and juicier to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled, “maybe we can get some whip cream on top?”

“Now we are talking, got to keep my blood sugar in check.” He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist which caused his shirt to ride up displaying his delicious v-line. Your clotthed cunt rubbing against his abdominal instinctively.

Dean groaned as his hands squeezed your heart shaped ass. You laced your fingers into his hair steadying yourself from floating away from the moment, Dean noticed the fog begin to form in your eyes. “I wonder sometimes if there is ever a coherent thought behind those y/e/c eyes.”

You softly pulled the ends of your boyfriend’s hair in response, “hey don’t be mean,” you pouted.

“You know what I mean princess,” Dean kissed up your neck towards the sensitive spot that he knew would make you weak. You moaned causing your chest to rise further up Dean’s face.

“where did you learn how to be such a tease?” Dean mumbled in your ear nibbling at the skin.

“what does that mean?” You asked.

Dean stopped his actions to view your face, trying to figure out if you were actually joking.

“Honey, do you not know what tease means?” He asked to which you shook your head.

“Do you know about sex?” You nodded.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked again, “I don’t want to pressure you in anything sweetheart, you are in control.”

“I learned how to make love from the movies.” You blushed, hiding away from his gaze. Dean chuckled at your innocent response, before feeling guilty, had he known your level of knowledge on the topic he wouldn’t have been so forward.

“Aww sweetheart that’s nothin’ be ashamed about,” you still avoided his gaze, “why don’t you show me what you learned and I could help you out…wouldn’t that be nice sweet cheeks.” Dean kissed up to your face, trying to pry your hands away from his face. “Of course with your consent and approval it’s all up to you.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed from your previous statement.

Dean smiled fondly at you, “I promise to make you feel so good you’ll be seeing stars sugar.”

“Really?” You moved your hands away excitingly. “Just like in pretty woman?” You asked.

“Even better.” He pecked your lips. “Just say the words princess and I’m on my knees.”

“You’re so sweet Dean.” You blushed kissing his cheek. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I got a few ways but first things first I got to take care of my baby girl.”

#dean winchester #fluff #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester/reader #spn #dean winchester x reader #smuttish #smut implied #dean winchester is HOT #dean winchester x fem reader #dean winchester x bimbo! reader #short cute imagine #pretty woman

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bewaryofpity · 1 day ago

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jack's sooooo clingy he follows you everywhere like a lost puppy, especially after a long day of not seeing you.

jack has been following you around since you came back from work, yapping about anything and everything that has happened to him since you left this morning. and you’re not surprised because he has the habit of lingering close to you when you’ve been gone for a while, especially on his rare days off. today is no different.

he does follow you everywhere like a very grown and very loyal puppy, today more than ever as he followed you to the bathroom where you're trying to get ready for your night routine. he’s sitting on top of the toilet seat, babbling about his day out with nico that obviously consisted of hockey related things.

you snicker to yourself when jack doesn't realize that you're taking longer than usual to get unready, or that he’s talking for this long, but you know how much he hates boredom so you let him be. it’s just that you weren’t expecting this.

it’s cute, yes, but now you’re more interested in seeing how long he’ll yap for or rather how long he’ll stay here with you. so you finish taking your makeup off before pulling the shower curtain back and twisting the knob to turn on the water and adjusting it to the right temperature. the idea that he could easily stalk you into the shower makes you smile so you play along to his not so little rant.

“and then nico lured me to the rink because apparently the kids were practicing and he wanted to surprise them. not that i didn’t like that but then their coach didn’t look too pleased, the kids were distracted for the rest of the practice, obviously.”

you hum, “is it because they took nico’s attention off you?”

“Uh, n-no. i mean i was the one hanging out with him first, so.” he mumbles “but that’s not the point!”

jack huffs, changing into a criss cross position on top of the toilet. and it’s taking everything in you to not laugh at him because he looks like a child, pout on his lips and looking so small in this position.

“well then, was it fun at least?”

“duh, baby.” hands flailing around him. “the kids loved it, they kept asking us questions and some didn’t make sense –they were like four years old, you know– and like, we had to stop for even longer because they wanted us to sign some of their stuff.”

that must be why he also took longer to text you throughout his day.

“i bet, love.” you nod along, pulling your hair up in a bun so it doesn’t get wet in the shower, finally at the right hot temperature. “i’ll shower now if you don’t mind.”

“oh, now?” eyes wide like you told a child you’ll leave him in the parking lot.

“i mean, we’re in the bathroom, and i’m in a towel, and it’s been a long day. so yes, now.”

and jack’s cheeks have a faint pink tint as he shamelessly watches you unravel your towel and step in the shower. totally not because he saw you naked for a split second, it’s just the steam from the really hot shower, right?

“uh yeah, okay” he says as he stand up. “i’ll get unready too before i go then.”

you hum in reply as you go on about your shower, but you’re actually simply standing under the water, trying to keep an ear out for his movements and words.

suddenly he’s taking his sweet time to wash his face and you think he might start brushing his teeth soon too for the hell of it.

but his talking doesn’t stop at all. he blurts out random thoughts in between before going on to ramble about some hockey plays he’s been looking over, asks you what you had for lunch. he even asks you which body wash you’re currently using –which is none yet because trying not to laugh is revealing to be harder than you thought. he’s truly finding the most random topics to fill the silence.

and the talking does finally stop, but it’s replaced by jack’s whistling, clearly out of things to say. yet you know your boyfriend better than he thinks so you know very well what he’s thinking about.

“you still there, jacky?” you call wittingly. you can see his blurry figure through the shower curtain, an excited nod coming from his silhouette.

and you bite your lip as one of his hands reaches to scratch at the back of his neck. “i guess i’ll go now. uhm… i’ll wait for you to come out. i’ll get us take out, anything you’re craving? because if you want there’s a new italian place down the street that luke suggested to me and he says it's really good, so i think maybe–”

omg he’s so cute.

you pull the curtain back, just with your head peeping out to find jack with one hand hovering the door handle, still lingering around.

“jacky?”

“yeah baby, what’s up?”

“do you want to shower with me?”

and like a kid opening presents on christmas morning, his eyes light up so quickly. his head shakes with an overly enthusiastic nod, and he’s already clumsy in pulling off his clothes that he almost trips getting his sweatpants off. you’re not surprised at all, the lack of grace and coordination are not exclusive to when he’s on the ice.

a stupid, wide, boyish grin spreads over his lips when he finally steps into the shower in front of you.

“hi, baby,” he grins, leaning forward to hold your face in his hands and peck your nose.

“you know, if you wanted to join me, you could’ve just asked.” your smile now matching his. jack squishes your cheeks between his palms, “well, where’s the fun in that?”

#jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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authenticbunni · 1 day ago

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There is no mental fighting/struggle

Girl you is lost. Manifesting is not that complicated at all. You just have to simply decide.

Before you scroll, I know you’ve seen people say that all the time, and it just never wrapped around your complexed mind. I used to have that problem too, I feel you. I have a complexed mind, and even though most people say you don’t have to know everything, I did so I can wrap it around my mind and knowing more actually helped me de-complex my mind. Now that I understand it I’m going to explain some reason as to maybe why you’ve been struggling to just decide.

I’ve put it into two parts if you don’t feel like you need to read everything. Accountability and 4D = 3D NOT 3D = 4D

Accountability

I think where you go wrong is not realizing everything in your life that you’ve ever interacted with or did is from your thoughts. You’re still in a mindset of “how could this have happened? This is not my fault? This is not my doing?” Now that’s human, people always try to blame, don’t beat yourself up. But when you’re trying to manifest and blame every single thing in your life on everyone else, you’re never going to manifest because you can’t take accountability. If you can’t take accountability of your own life, how can you even have full control over your own life.

That was a really hard pill for me to swallow, when it came to taking accountability for the doings in my life. TRUST ME! When I had to move away from Florida, when I had a brutal falling out with my bf. I had to realize that was my fault. Both of those were not in my favor or desires, but I thought so much about those outcomes that it eventually happened.

Once you take accountability you realize the only thing you’ve been struggling with is you. The only thing you’ve been fighting off is you. The only struggle you’ve been going through is you. You have accepted those thoughts into your mind, and now you’ve become them. Now, don’t get panicky or feel like you gotta do a whole bunch of stuff to get past this. Just simply let them pass. Know that these are just thoughts and you have the power to accept and decline them with ease, because you’re subconscious mind always follows your lead without thinking twice.

4D = 3D NOT 3D = 4D

What I mean by the equation is. Your imagination controls/creates your reflection. Your mind is your true reality, and your 3D reflects that. Your 3D does not make you, you make you

4D = reality

3D = reflection (of your 4D)

Stop separating the two, they are always in the same equation. Your 3D is as changeable and flexible as your imagination. I didn’t realize this until I actually saw it happen.

Back to the brutal falling out with my bf. Prior we were just friends but he was pretty regular, talking here, having conversations. But due to dwelling in negative thoughts, in less than I think 1 or 2 days he completely took a 180 and flipped the switch. He hated me, and never wanted to talk to me. During this is completely shock on why this would happened because “I thought I was doing everything right” after a few I realize I was more strong on thinking he hated me, saw me as a nuisance. (Okay that’s enough, I don’t wanna talk about it tm cuz I’m manifesting him back) but that was the work of my manifestation.

As of right now that’s all I can think of, I might make another post or add on to this post. But yeah, those are the reasons I think people have a hard time with. If you feel like this wasn’t enough details for you, that’s fine I’m glad I at least helped u a lil bit 😋.

#manifesation #manifesting #void state #imagination creates reality #law of assumption #manifest it #void success #void state success story #reality shifting #affirm and persist

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cre8inghavoc · 2 days ago

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Can't help it...

Part 9

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

Inumaki's POV:

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours now, and I don’t understand why I can’t sleep. I mean, I’ve always had issues with sleeping—insomnia’s been my constant companion for as long as I can remember—but I thought it was getting better. This past week, for the first time in years, I actually slept well. It was odd, sure, but I wasn’t complaining.

But tonight? Tonight, it’s back to the old ways.

Back to no sleep.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I glanced over at the clock.

4 a.m.

Great.

Should I even bother going to school later? Maybe I should just skip. But then… I wouldn’t see y/n.

Fuck.

The thought of not seeing her tomorrow... or today, technically... made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to think too much about. I let out another frustrated sigh and turned my head to look at my phone on the nightstand. For a moment, I just stared at it, my mind running through all the reasons why texting her at this hour would be a terrible idea.

She’s probably asleep. You’ll wake her up. She’ll think you’re being annoying. Just leave her alone.

But then again… what if she’s awake too? What if she’s thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her right now?

Before I could overthink it anymore, I grabbed my phone, my thumb hesitating over the keyboard. I typed out a message and stared at it for a second, debating whether or not to hit send.

This is stupid. She’s not awake. You’ll look like an idiot.

But my thumb pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.

Hey… you up?

I tossed my phone on the bed beside me and ran a hand over my face, already regretting it. But now all I could do was wait.

Honestly, I was kind of hoping she would respond. It’s not like I can sleep, so maybe talking to her would help. But at the same time… I kind of hope she doesn’t even see my message. Because… what if I’m being too much?

What if she sees it, rolls her eyes, and thinks I’m just some guy who can’t get a grip? Someone who’s bothering her at 4 a.m. for no reason?

I sighed, staring at the faint glow of my phone screen as it sat on the bed next to me. What was I expecting? That she’d magically be awake, texting back right away? And if she did… what would I even say?

Hey, I can’t stop thinking about you?

Yeah, right. That would go over well.

I shook my head, feeling the frustration bubble up in my chest. Why was she in my head so much? Why couldn’t I just… let it go? Ignore it? Pretend I wasn’t thinking about the way she looked at me earlier, or the way her voice shook just a little when she was mad?

I groaned softly, rolling over onto my side and staring at the phone again. One minute passed. Then another. The screen stayed dark, and the silence stretched on. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe it was better if she didn’t answer.

Because if she did… I wasn’t sure what I’d say next. Or worse, what I’d admit.

But then, to my surprise, my phone buzzed.

I blinked, staring at it for a moment as if I’d imagined the notification. The screen lit up, her name glowing back at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I hesitated before picking it up, as if seeing her response would somehow make this real.

WARNING: SMUT (18+ ONLY) & HEAVY FLIRTING/TEASING

A/N

things are getting veryyy spicy now 👀

hope you enjoyed this little tease

im so sorry this took so look... it was very unexpected ive just been extremely busy and honestly haven't had the energy to write much

yes this is very short butttt i kinda just want some of yalls opinion on this... like would you actually wanna read the smut (next part)

ik its late ASF BUT ENJOY IT PLEASE OR ELSE ILL CRY FR

TAG LIST <3

@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001 @swarachxle @s3ns4ti0n4l @jdgfsgdgdvf @tomikixd @arabella0001 @emotionalasf @unofficialsapphire @miowxh @hansl0ver @miowxh

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eiightysixbaby · 2 days ago

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a holiday meet-cute

robin buckley x fem!reader

another fic for @littlexdeaths 12 days of promptmas 😌 prompt: you need a last minute gift, but man that salesclerk sure is cute…

The mall is packed.

You can’t really be surprised, what with Christmas being in two short days. Turns out you aren’t the only person in town who waited until the last second to buy a gift.

You’d thought you had all of your gifts in order, until one of your friends decided to mention they got you an unexpected gift, and now you felt obligated to return the favor.

You loosen the scarf around your neck, unbuttoning your coat now that you’re safe from the elements. You glance around the mall somewhat aimlessly, letting your feet carry you. Your gaze snags on the bookstore, eyes lighting up at the sight.

Bingo.

Trailing inside, you’re met with shelf after shelf of books. You don’t really know where to begin looking, you just hope that you’ll know when you find the right one. You brush past other shoppers, eyes roaming over the spines and covers of various novels.

“Did you need help finding anything?” a voice asks, breaking you from your shopping trance.

You turn, fingers still gently grazing the spine of one of the books on the shelf before you, and when you meet the face of the salesperson, your heart skips a beat.

She’s gorgeous. Stunning, bright blue eyes and freckles sprinkled over her face. Dirty blonde hair with bangs that suit her well. She looks at you expectantly, but there’s an almost nervous edge to her demeanor. Your eyes catch her name tag. Robin is written in blue marker, squiggles and dots and other designs littering the blank space around her name.

“Oh, um, no,” you stammer awkwardly. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift for a friend,” you tell her, feeling your cheeks grow warm under her stare.

“That one is actually one of my favorites”, she says, motioning with a nod of her head to the book where your fingers rest.

You follow her gaze, looking back at the book to pull it off of the shelf, though you find you don’t really want to stop looking at her.

“I-I’ve recommended it to all of my friends,” the salesclerk continues. “My friend Steve — he literally never reads — finally read that a couple months ago and he loved it. Talked my ear off about it afterwards. I almost regretted recommending it in the first place,” she laughs kind of nervously, chewing at her lip as if to keep herself from saying more.

You find the personal anecdote adorable, taking her recommendation seriously.

“Hm,” you ponder, staring at the cover of the book now in your hands. “I think you’ve just convinced me,” you tell her, watching as her eyes visibly brighten.

“Really?” she asks, her voice suddenly so quiet.

“Mhm,” you nod. “My friend, the one I’m buying for, hasn’t read in a while and they’ve been looking for something to get them back in the groove.”

The girl lights up, smiling so big. It takes all you’ve got not to reach out and trace the little laugh lines on her face. Instead you smile back at her, and maybe you hold each other’s gaze for a minute too long, but maybe it doesn’t matter.

“I’m so glad I could help,” she says finally, cheeks turning pink as her eyes dart away. “Do you want me to check you out?” she asks, before her eyes go wide. “I mean, like, ring you out. Not check you out like, check you out. Oh, god,” she trails off, but her embarrassment only makes you more smitten with her.

“That would be great,” you tell her, giggling softly to yourself as she nods and turns, skittering away like a mouse.

You follow, weaving through the shelves and up to the checkout counter. She takes your book, scanning it for you, and you find yourself tracing the freckles on her cheeks as she works.

“So, are you excited for the holiday?” she asks you. The small talk is welcome — anything to keep you here longer.

“I’m more excited now that my shopping is all done,” you reply. “Do you have any plans?” you ask, handing her the money for your purchase.

“Ah,” she says, expression turning kind of sad. “Not this year. I usually go back home for the holidays, but I couldn’t swing it this year between work and school.”

“Oh,” you frown, giving her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I know how that feels.”

There’s a pause, her pretty hands placing your book in a small paper bag, your eyes already on her when she looks up to meet them.

“You know, my friends and I are having a little get together. On— on Christmas Day,” you start. “Everyone always has a date and, well, I don’t have one.”

Her head tilts ever so slightly to the side, her bottom lip pulling between her teeth.

“I know we just met and you don’t even know my name or literally anything, but… if you wanted to come with me—” you stop yourself, suddenly self-conscious.

But the look in her eyes is so hopeful, it encourages you to go on.

“We’d love to have you. I’d— I’d love to help make your holiday less lonely. Since you helped me so much today, with the gift.”

“Am I attending this party as your date?” she asks, emphasizing the last word cutely, her voice gone so soft you have to lean forward to hear her.

Your face warms, fingers fidgeting on the countertop.

“If that’s okay with you, Robin,” you say, and the smile that crosses her face at the use of her name makes you certain you’ve made the right move.

The line of customers behind you grows, people in a hurry to get out and on their way. You both recognize this at the same time, and you shoot her an apologetic glance.

“I’d love to come,” Robin says, flipping your receipt over and scribbling something down. “That’s my number,” she says, handing you the slip of paper. “I’m off at 7 today, if you want to call. Or anything.”

“Okay,” you smile. “Yeah, okay. I will.”

With the receipt clutched in your hand and the book tucked under your arm, you give her a small wave before leaving the bookstore.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you look down at her writing, the glittery gel pen’s ink making each number sparkle.

Christmas can’t come fast enough.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fanfiction #thetwelvedaysofpromptmas 🎄#divider by strangergraphics

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saiintvalentiine · 3 days ago

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Hi Saiint! *heres a (virtual) dogfies plushie for you

Could I get a apologetic Parrotx2… :3 like he finally realizes how mean and ignorant he has been to wifies sometimes and actually says sorry says that he cares about him,.. that dog deserves apology and comfort :(

sorry for holding ur request hostage this dogfies is just so stinkin cute that every time i opened my inbox id see him and get cuteness aggression :(((( sweetest baby ever............ set in the first war video when they talk on the stairs at around 25 mins!

Word count: 508

“I’m really sorry for everything I said,” Wifies says, wringing his hands together. “I want to help you again. I’m sorry for not understanding your point of view.”

The thing about anger is that it’s easy. It’s hot. It expands. It rises. It fills. The anger is there, Parrot could touch it, a weight that breathes like a wounded animal in his chest.

But he’s sick of blood and wounds and burning. He can see the red around Wifies’s nails despite the way he’s moving them. The darkness under his eyes.

It hurts. Parrot is tired of everything hurting. He’s tired of— of hurting everyone around him. For once, he’d like to actually fix something. Not patch it over, not help it escape its fate for only one more day, but fix it. He can fix this, them.

“I’m sorry too,” Parrot says. Wifies’s eyes flutter, uncertain, dodgy.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how you felt either.”

It’s strange to see Wifies so still. He was all quick, small motions just a second ago, but it’s like Parrot’s dropped sand on his head.

“It’s— don’t worry about it. I was being inconsiderate.”

“So was I,” Parrot can’t stop himself from pacing, wings rustling. “The worst thing getting here was turning around expecting you to be there and nothing. It was awful. I kept thinking about how I had begun to rely on you being there with me.”

He drifts closer and closer to Wifies, who watches him with wide eyes. Is this such a surprise? Parrot can’t blame him. He can’t remember the last time they talked like this.

“But it was plenty of time and silence to think. I realize now that you care.”

“I do,” Wifies sounds more stressed than before, voice rising.

“And that what you did, what you said. . . it was because you care, and you were scared.”

“Terrified,” Wifies corrects. He starts to pick at his nail beds. “Parrot, I have so few people I’m close to in this life, and I don’t think I’ll be this lucky in the next. The idea of losing you terrifies me.”

There’s something unnerving about how Wifies says that, as if he’s resigned to loss but holding on anyway. He’s never been that much of a pessimist. Parrot reaches over and pries Wifies’s hands apart, holding them tight.

“You’re not going to lose me,” Parrot rubs his thumbs across the back of Wifies’s hands. They tremble in his grip, fine and shallow but trembling nonetheless. “You were trying to protect me. I’m sorry for not thinking of it that way.”

It’s easy to pull Wifies close and hug him. He curls up into Parrot instantly, breath puffing against Parrot’s throat as he presses close. Parrot’s wings rise around them, a second layer to keep prying eyes away. This is for them.

It doesn’t burn. It aches, but in a good way, the way a yellowed bruise does. Or maybe it doesn’t hurt at all, the way it was always meant to be between them.

#ask #dyn4motter #parrotx2 #wifies #saiintly apocrypha #saiintly hymn #i made him my phone background btw. i literally immediately fell in love w the feller.

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ssentimentals · 2 days ago

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hihi love!! i’m so obsessed w your work 😭😭 you just do such a good job writing ajdhjshdhw 🥺🩷🩷

could i request hurt prompt 35 w woozi pls? a happy ending would be nice but it doesn’t have to be!! tysm love🥹🩷

- 🫧

hihi babie!! omg this is so nice?? thank you so much for being this kind!! hopefully you will like your request 💜

hurt prompt: 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

'i feel like i should be happy and excited for the festive season but i just can't.' you mutter, adjusting your earphones. 'it's just been so shitty at work lately, you know? i don't have it in me to actually feel anything.'

your best friend lets you let it all out. she lets you go on and on about the work, your rant ending only when you come closer to your house. you also wanted to discuss jihoon with her, but that is going to wait for another time then. hanging you up, you sigh, slowing your stride. everything's been shitty lately not only at work; your relationship with jihoon started to crack as well. it's not very obvious, but the breach was formed and you feel like you both are just drifting further and further apart each day. coming home used to be the best part of your day, but now it's ad dreadful as going to work and it's just- sad. sadder than that is only your complete lack of any desire to do anything about it.

'welcome home,' jihoon greets, when you come in. he notices slight frown at your forehead and cautiously asks: 'is everything okay?'

'mhm.' you try to smile, but it comes off more as a grimace. 'how are you? have you already eaten? if yes i can just-'

'no,' jihoon interrupts. 'i waited for you.'

you blink. that is... new. you both didn't wait for each other last two months. your heart skips a beat at this, small flicker of hope reignites in your chest. this time you smile for real: 'oh, thank you. can you heat it up then? warm food will make me very happy now.'

jihoon smiles. 'i thought coffee makes you happy?'

'not right now. 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

you quickly change and come back to the kitchen right at the time of jihoon setting up the table. you both work in silence; you feel tongue-tied, not knowing what to say and how to ask simple things. when it became so awkward to just be with jihoon? you eat in silence too, or more like you both push your food around the plate, not looking up at each other. it's incredibly tense and you're surprised that jihoon is the one who snaps first with a humourless chuckle: 'this is not working, is it?'

you can argue, of course. you can remind him that it's not working because of him. you can start fighting again. instead, you agree. 'yeah, it's.. not.'

jihoon nods. he's staring at his plate intently like leftover meatballs have answers to his question. when he looks up, his gaze is filled with hesitance and hope: 'do you want it? to work?'. he licks his lips, quickly adding: 'because i do. i just- past few months were hard. i sucked, i know. but like, i- i want this. to work. do you?'

crying with meatballs in your mouth is really not the best thing you can do, but you can't stop tears from falling down. swallowing without chewing and choking on the food, you quickly down your glass of water and let out sincere: 'i do. i'm sorry, i sucked too.'

jihoon nods. he looks like he wants to laugh at your red face from choking, but he wisely holds himself back. 'okay. then,' he takes a deep breath, 'we will finish this now and go to bed and talk about it.'

you nod. 'we can come up for something to get us into holiday mood?' you suggest hesitantly.

jihoon brightens up at this. 'yeah, sounds good.'

you both smile at each other and hope inside your chest flickers stronger than before. jihoon reaches out across the table and takes your hand in his. flicker of hope turns into a burning fire.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

#seventeen imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon #seventeen woozi #woozi x reader #woozi imagines #woozi fluff #seventeen woozi x reader #seventeen woozi imagines #svt x reader #svt woozi #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon imagines #seventeen prompt #svt lee jihoon #svt woozi x reader #svt woozi imagines

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odyssean-flower · 2 days ago

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deleted scene #1

“Yes,” you nodded vigorously. Panic was now settling in. This isn’t real. I’m not actually going to share a bed with Neuvillette. That’s like…something out of a cheesy romance novel! “It’s not. I can just sleep on the floor. And--” “You most certainly are not,” Neuvillette fixed you with a look. “If anyone were to sleep on the floor, it shall be me.” “And I’m not letting you sleep on the floor either, and since there are no couches or sedans in here, it only stands to reason that we will both sleep on the bed.” The more you talked, the more you realized that this situation wasn’t as terrifying as it appeared at first. After all, this wasn’t some cliched romance plot where the two leads, with boundless unresolved sexual tension between them, were forced to share a bed and deal with their attraction to each other. This was just an inconvenient situation caused by some harebrained ploy of your sister’s which wouldn’t even work. Neither of you were attracted to each other physically (okay, maybe there was a little attraction on your part. But you weren’t some pervert who would act on it. …Perhaps I should sleep on the floor after all). “We are going to be mature adults about this,” you said. “Yes.” “This is just an unusual sleeping arrangement, that’s all. And the bed is plenty large for the both of us. It’s a queen-size.” “It does seem to be of that size.” “I’ve slept next to other people before. My sister, Anne… this is just like a sleepover.” “I’ve never experienced a sleepover before, but I shall trust your words on it, Madame.” You looked up, startled, and saw Neuvillette looking down at you, his eyes bright. You cleared your throat. “We’ll only be giving them amusement if we make a big fuss over this, so we won’t. We’ll both take a bath, and then get into bed and sleep, and that will be the end of it.” “That is what I’m planning to do,” Neuvillette said, the corners of his mouth lifting. You decided to stop talking.

#neuvillette x reader #genshin x reader #my works

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qrrieterisunnq · 2 days ago

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Marino smut where he gets jealous easily please but not because she’s like smoking hot because of her personality so he tries not to let his teammates talk to her😂😩🥴

Jealousy, Form of Love - John Marino

MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut — WARNINGS: sex scenes, fluff — SUMMARY: John is jealous because of your warming personality, which leads to him fucking you hard after he finally introduces you to his teammates, and you are friendlier than you should be. — WORD COUNT: 2,12K

You are the definition of people saying, ‘I don’t care about looks, but personality is all that matters.’ It was not that you were ugly or something; you were gorgeous, but that was not what caught John’s eyes; it was your friendly and sunny personality.

You always need to help people even though they are mean to you and keep saying they can manage themselves.

Whenever you see a cat alone on the street, you immediately want to take her home. If it weren’t for John, you’d have an apartment full of stray cats.

That is exactly why John fell for you and doesn’t want you to get to know his teammates. They would fall in love with you the moment you'd have to speak, that’s just who you are. But when he finally gets the courage to introduce you to his teammates, he knows he’ll regret it the moment you talk to them.

“Are you babygirl!” John looks down at his watches, making sure they still have time. “The ride is about fifteen minutes, so you better move your beautiful ass over here before I come for you.”

“Just a second, J,” you yell back from the bedroom as you are finishing your outfit and some touch-ups on your makeup. And I’m done!” you say with a smile, taking your handbag from the bed and making your way into the living room, where John is leaning against the wall, his hand folded across his chest.

“Can we go now?” he asks with annoyance in his voice but the beautiful smile on his lips tells you he’s everything but annoyed.

“Yeah, baby! We can.” You giggle soothing your dress, so it looks perfect.

“You’re gorgeous, babes!” he smiles at you pulling you towards him by your waist for a quick kiss. “Now come on, or we’ll be late!”

“We won’t babe! We still have fifteen minutes. Don’t stress yourself.” You kiss his cheek on the way to the door where you put on your sneakers and open the door for him.

“Yeah, you’re right, now let's go!” he smacks your ass urging you to go first so he can lock the doors.

“So, this is the popular y/n? Am I right, Johnny?” Sean asks with a smirk as he watches his teammate reddening from jealousy. Sean takes your hand and kisses the top with his eyes glued to yours.

“Yeah, I guess that is me,” you giggle at Sean’s questing turning your head to the side to look at John, whose cheeks are red. “It’s nice to meet you, —” you stop yourself realizing you don’t know his name.

“Oh, I’m Sean! Nice to meet you too, Y/n.” You shake his hand and step back, feeling John’s rising chest on your back. You melt into his presence and find his hand to interlock your fingers with his.

“Nice to meet you, Sean,” You smile at him, playing with John’s fingers as you smile nervously. “So, you do this Christmas party every year?”

“Yeah, for the past few years, I’ve been on the team, every year. And this year it was my turn, so I hope you like it,” he chuckles looking around his apartment. “My girlfriend helped me, actually. I can introduce you to her.”

“Oh yeah sorry. I completely forgot that Johnny is on a new team.” you giggle and rest your head on John’s shoulder, feeling his lips on your temple.

“I'm going to get you something for a drink,” John whispers in your ear before taking off to the kitchen.

“So, what do you say?” Sean asks with a grin on his lips.

“Yeah sure, let’s get meet her.” you giggle following Sean inside the living room where most people are.

“Baby!” he sighs when he sees her in a group of other wags. She smiles at him, pecking his lips and whispering something to him. After a while, Sean looks back at you with an encouraging smile. “Baby, girls, this is y/n John’s girlfriend. You haven’t met yet, because she was out of the States.” he introduces you with a smile.

“Hi?” you wave your hand with a nervous smile.

“You are so beautiful! By the way, I am Sadie!” Sean's girlfriend pulls you in a hug, making you feel welcome.

“Girl, you are gorgeous,” You yell slightly, slapping a hand over your mouth afterward. “Like drop-dead gorgeous.” You sigh, laughing with the other girls as Sadie blushes at your words.

“Oh, Can I keep her?” A girl on your left says with a grin on her face. “Please? I already like her! Johnny!” she yells, making you all giggle. “Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, Beth.” She smiles, reaching out her ebony black hand to shake yours.

As you get to know the girls, John makes his way to you just a few minutes after Beth yells his name. He looks at you with a grin, but that changes as soon as he sees Beth’s face.

“What happened?” he immediately asks, handing you the drink he made for you. He looks you up and down for some injury but finds nothing.

“Nothing, I just wanted to tell you that I—” Beth points her finger at her. “—am keeping her.” And then at you with a grin on her lips.

“Beth, you know her for what?” he looks at you with jealousy written in the wrinkle on his forehead. “Five minutes and you want her? No way girl. I saw her first.” He shakes his head, curling his hand around your waist, and brings you to his chest as you giggle at his reaction.

Beth sends you a wink and grins at Johnny, saying, “Oh, come on, Johnny-boy. You can share a little, can’t you? She’s got enough sunshine in her for all of us.”

The girls erupt into laughter, and you find yourself chuckling along, feeling an unexpected warmth from this new group of friends. John, however, wasn’t quite ready to let his guard down.

“You’re not supposed to charm everyone within seconds, you know,” he whispers in your ear, his voice a mix of exasperation and pride.

You lean into him, a playful grin on your lips. “I can’t help it, babe. It’s who I am.”

Sean approaches with another drink in hand, giving John a knowing smirk. “Looks like Y/n’s already a hit. Don’t worry, mate. We’ll try not to steal her from you... yet.”

John rolls his eyes but can’t hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew this would happen. He knew they’d adore you, just like he did. And while the jealous pangs prick at him every now and then, he can’t deny how proud he feels seeing you light up the room.

“And you never will.” You say, patting his hands that are lying on your stomach while his head is resting on top of yours.

“Eww, stop being so cheese.” Sean shakes his body in disgust earning a slap from his girlfriend.

“Go away and take Johnny with him. We wanna have some girl-talk here with y/n.” She wiggles her brows at you, making you giggle.

As the evening wears on, John’s patience is tested further. Sadie introduces you to the other woman in the group. And not long after, you become the center of attention. Whether it is story sharing, complimenting their outfits, or laughing at their jokes, it looks like you have wrapped them around your finger.

From across the room, John keeps a watchful eye on you. He can see how effortlessly you charm everyone, and while he adores that about you, it doesn’t stop the jealousy from shimmering beneath the surface. His jaw tightens whenever some of the guys make you laugh a little too hard or linger too close.

When Sean’s hand brushes against yours as he passes you a drink, John decides he had enough. He strides over, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist and pulling you close to his side.

“Having fun?” he asks, his tone deceptively light but his eyes sharp as they flick to Sean.

You nod your head, obvious to the tension radiating from him. “Yeah, everyone is so nice! Sean was just telling me about—”

“Yeah, Sean’s great,” John cuts in, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “But I think you promised me a dance, didn’t you?”

You blink up at him in surprise but smile, nonetheless. “Oh, did I? Well, let’s fix that then.”

He leads you to the makeshift dance floor, his hands possessively settling on your hips as he pulls you flush against him. The warmth of his body and the intensity of his gaze make your breath hitch.

“John are you okay?” you ask softly, tilting your head to look up at him.

“Just reminding everyone who you belong to,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice is low, almost a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, with John staying glued to your side, his presence a constant reminder to anyone who might forget that you were his. By the time you both say your goodbyes and step out into the crisp night air, his jealousy reaches a boiling point.

The walk home is quiet but charged with unspoken tension. You can feel it in the way his hand grips yours a little too tightly, in the way his jaw is set, and in the way, his eyes burn with something dark and possessive every time he looks at you.

John doesn’t waste any second the moment you step inside your apartment. He kicks the door shut and spins you around, pinning you against it with a force that takes your breath away.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he growls, his hands framing your face as his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is hard, demanding, and filled with all the jealousy and desire he’s been holding back all night.

“John,” you gasp when he pulls away, his lips moving to your neck. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Watching every man in that room look at you like they wanted you,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Hearing them flirt with you, laugh with you… Do you know how hard it was not to lose it right there?”

“But you know I’m yours,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I do,” he says, his voice rough. “But tonight, I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

Before you can respond, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom with purpose. The air is thick with anticipation, and as he lays you down on the bed, his eyes lock onto yours, dark with intent.

“You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice low and commanding. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping them possessively as he hovers over you. “And I’m going to show you just how much.”

The room is filled with the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows across the walls. John’s touch is both fervent and tender as he begins to explore every inch of you, his lips following the path of his hands. Each kiss, each caress is deliberate, as if he is trying to etch himself into your very soul.

“Look at me,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes search yours, the raw vulnerability in them catching you off guard. “You’re everything to me. No one else gets to have this—gets to have you.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you reach up to cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that speaks of your own devotion. “I’m yours, John. Always.”

He smiles against your lips, a soft chuckle escaping as his hands roam lower, drawing a gasp from you. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go—not tonight, not ever.”

He gets rid of all your clothes laying on top of you with his cock laying directly on your pussy. He presses his lips to yours in a hungry kiss whiles his hand reaches between you, angling his cock on your entrance.

Still kissing you he pushes his cock deep inside you, drawing a long, loud moan from your lips.

He moves his hips in frequent motions, while he rolls them every now and then, getting more of the pleasure. You roll your eyes, when his cock touches the spongy spot deep inside you, bringing you quickly to your ends.

It takes you both only a few more minutes of John’s harsh thrusts and you both fall over your edges.

#john marino x y/n #jm6 #john marino #john marino smut #nhl #john marino x reader #john marino x you #john marino fanfiction #utah hockey team #utah hockey club #nhl fanfiction #john marino imagine

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arthurhillmastermind · 1 day ago

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Anyone but him | Arthur Hill

“Same Building , same friends, zero patience for each other. For now.”

Kirstie stood in the doorway of her new flat, surveying the chaos of boxes stacked high around her. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the fresh coat of paint and the potential of the space, but the overwhelming mess felt like a mountain to climb. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead.

“Okay, let’s tackle this,” she said to herself, rolling up her sleeves. Just then, the door swung open, and Chris bounded in, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Look at you, all settled in! Ready to transform this place into your streaming paradise?” he teased, dropping a box beside her with a soft thud.

“More like a war zone,” Kirstie laughed, glancing around. “But I’ll take any help I can get.”

“Don’t worry, I’m here to save the day!” Chris proclaimed dramatically, hoisting another box from the car. “You’ve got snacks, right? This is going to be a long haul.”

“Of course! But you’ll have to earn them first,” Kirstie replied, mock-seriously, as she grabbed a box of kitchen supplies and headed for the kitchen.

They worked in comfortable silence, chatting occasionally about the best placement for her gaming setup and her hopes for her new place. The more they unpacked, the more Kirstie felt the weight of change lifting. She was excited about this new chapter in her life.

As Chris headed back out to grab another load, Kirstie decided to take a break and check her phone. Just as she was scrolling through her messages, she heard footsteps approaching. She glanced up, expecting Chris, but instead, she found herself face-to-face with Arthur, Chris’s roommate.

He leaned against the door frame, a casual but undeniably confident posture. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, and he had an expression that was equal parts amused and disinterested. Kirstie felt her heart rate spike—not from attraction, but from annoyance.

“Hey, new neighbour,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Nice to see you’ve already made a mess of the place.”

Kirstie’s lips tightened as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s called having a life. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of lurking in your own flat.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by her retort. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your little party. Are you planning to invite anyone over, or is it just you and your boxes?”

“Is there a rule that says I need to have a social event just because I moved in?” she shot back, crossing her arms defiantly. “I prefer to keep my circle small, thanks.”

He chuckled softly, as if she were the punchline to a joke only he understood. “Guess you’ll have to get used to it, then. This building’s basically a reality show waiting to happen. You might want to invite the neighbours over eventually—might help with the loneliness.”

Kirstie felt irritation flare inside her, the casual condescension of his tone grating on her nerves. “You know, some people actually enjoy their own company, Arthur,” she replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Right, that’s why you’re talking to me,” he said, his smirk widening.

“Yeah, because I’m really enjoying this conversation,” Kirstie retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

At that moment, Chris re-entered the room, arms full of boxes. “Hey, Arthur! Stop flirting with Kirstie and help me out!” he called out, breaking the tension.

“Flirting? Please,” Arthur replied with a laugh, tossing Kirstie a knowing glance. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kirstie narrowed her eyes at him, but the smirk he wore only fuelled her irritation. “Thanks, Chris. You really know how to make a girl feel welcome,” she muttered under her breath.

“Anytime!” Chris grinned, oblivious to the tension simmering between them.

As Chris and Arthur moved to start unpacking more boxes, Kirstie retreated to the kitchen, shaking her head. She could already tell living next to Arthur was going to be a challenge. His sarcastic humour rubbed her the wrong way, and she had no idea how she’d cope with the constant reminder of his presence.

Once she regained her composure, Kirstie forced herself to focus on organising the kitchen. She’d show them both that she could make this place a home, even if it meant dealing with her obnoxious neighbour every step of the way.

The thought of streaming in her new setup felt invigorating, but she couldn’t shake the irritation Arthur had stirred within her. She resolved to keep her distance from him and focus on what truly mattered—her gaming and her audience.

As she organized the last few items, she could hear Arthur and Chris bantering in the background, their laughter echoing through the flat. It was a reminder that this was a new beginning, filled with challenges but also opportunities.

Kirstie took a deep breath, knowing she would find a way to navigate her new life—one sarcastic comment at a time.

After a quick unpacking session, Kirstie finally settled into her new home office, a cosy nook brimming with potential. The walls were painted a soft teal, and twinkling fairy lights were strung along the shelves filled with her favourite gaming memorabilia. A large, sleek desk sat against the window, adorned with a top-of-the-line gaming monitor, a mechanical keyboard, and a high-quality microphone positioned just right for her streams. She had gone all out for this setup, wanting her space to reflect her passion for gaming and content creation.

Plopping down into her ergonomic chair, Kirstie flicked on her laptop, the screen lighting up and casting a cool glow across her focused face. She adjusted her headset, making sure the microphone was positioned perfectly. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she logged into her game, her heart racing at the thought of sharing this experience with her growing audience. This was her first stream in the new place, and she wanted everything to go perfectly.

She glanced around the room, taking in the vibrant posters of her favourite games that adorned the walls, alongside her carefully arranged collection of plushies that had accompanied her through countless late-night gaming sessions. A neon sign above her desk flickered to life, spelling out “NO!” in bold letters—a fitting mantra for most of her live streams when a game wasn't going the way she wanted.

Today, she’d be diving into her latest gaming obsession, a thrilling adventure game that had captured her heart, and she was eager to share it with her viewers. Maybe she’d even drop a few updates about her new living situation and how it felt to have her best friend Chris living just above her.

As she adjusted her chair and readied her fingers over the keyboard, she felt a mix of excitement and apprehension wash over her. The stream would be a chance to connect with her audience in a new space, and she was determined to make it memorable. With a final deep breath, Kirstie hit the “Go Live” button, the familiar rush of adrenaline surging through her as she welcomed her viewers.

“Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel! I’m super excited to share my new adventure with you all today. I just moved into a new place, and my best friend Chris, also known as ChrisMD or Christopher Michael Dixon is living right next to me, so things are bound to get interesting!”

As the chat flooded with emojis and enthusiastic greetings, she felt the comforting warmth of community wrap around her. She dove into the game, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and for the next hour, the world outside her office faded away. The game pulled her in, and she expertly navigated the challenges, sharing her thoughts and strategies with her audience.

Then, her phone buzzed on the desk, and she caught a glimpse of Chris's name lighting up the discord menu. With a grin, she accepted the call, and a moment later, Chris’s voice filled her headphones.

“Hey, Kirstie! Ready to show off your skills?” Chris's tone was upbeat, a playful tease woven through his words.

“Always,” she shot back, grinning at the camera. “But don’t get too comfortable up there, I might just win this one without any distractions.”

“Just don’t blame me if you lose!” Chris laughed, but Kirstie could already hear Arthur’s voice joining in the background.

“Yeah, Kirstie, you should really work on your gaming skills before you go live,” Arthur chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Kirstie’s eyes narrowed as she shot a glare at the doorway where Arthur stood, arms crossed, and that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. “What do you know about gaming?” she snapped back, refusing to let his presence derail her focus. “Isn’t your expertise more about how to flex for the camera?”

“Please, at least I’m not just sitting here hoping my setup distracts from my lack of talent,” he retorted, leaning casually against the wall as if this was all just a game to him.

She could feel irritation bubbling inside her. “And what are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be out making a TikTok or something?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eyes. “Funny you say that; I was just trying to figure out how to film your fail during this stream. It should be good for at least a few hundred thousand views.”

Kirstie's heart raced—not just from the game but from the challenge he posed. “You just wait, Arthur. I’ll show you what I’m made of,” she shot back, her determination refocusing her energy.

“You’re made of cringe. That's all you do, make people cringe” he retorts.

Kirstie’s smile faltered for just a moment. What an ass, she thought, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her cool. “Right, because you’re the expert on not being cringe,” she shot back, the heat creeping up her neck. “At least I’m not just sitting here flexing my non-existent biceps for views.”

“Hey, at least my views aren’t just because my tits are out,” he retorted, and Kirstie felt her cheeks flush with anger. The chat erupted, a mix of laughter and shock, but all she could focus on was the annoyance bubbling within her.

Kirstie took a deep breath, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she shot a glare towards her screen, where Chris had just emerged with Arthur, their laughter spilling into her stream like an unwanted guest. Arthur leaned in the background against the wall, arms crossed, and a smirk plastered across his face, the very image of annoyance wrapped in confidence. She felt her irritation rise like steam from a boiling kettle.

——————————————————-

ITS HERE! finally im so excited for you guys to read. the hashtag to follow is anyonebutyoufic and it’ll find all chapters!

i would like to thank everyone who helped with this, you know who you are and i love you🫶🏼

Enjoy - ArthurHillMastermind

#arthur hill fics #arthur hill #arthurhill x reader #arthur hill x reader #george clarkey #george clarke #chris dixon #chrismd #Anyonebutyoufic

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chicgeekgirl89 · 1 day ago

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A/N: @lemonlyman-dotcom. My darling. I HAVE CONNED YOU!! This is like in the Hallmark movies when you find out he/she was really a prince(ss)/secret millionaire/the owner of the evil corporation all along. YOUR SECRET SANTA IS MEEEEEEEEE!!! The Christmas tree fic is a FAKE!! I pretended to moan and groan about how I couldn't get this fic written BUT REALLY I WAS DELIGHTEDLY CRAFTING IT FOR YOU THE WHOLE TIME!!! Oh the evil joy it brought me every time I posted a little snippet of complete malarky and you reblogged it MWAHAHAHA!! 😈 How did I do? Were you fooled by my outstanding acting? Hehe, I hope you were and that this is a complete surprise! I took your @tarlos-santa prompt idea about Owen and Carlos teaming up to get T.K. the perfect gift and ran with it. It's full of holiday shenanigans and little easter eggs for you, good luck finding them all! (Also I hope you like this badly photoshopped header, I am delighted by the low quality badness of it lol!)

Read on AO3

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Carlos freezes, his lips pressed against the soft skin that lies just below T.K.’s bellybutton. His left index finger is hooked into the elastic waistband of T.K.’s boxers and he’s already pulled them down low enough to see the sharp jut of his husband’s hipbone. He lifts his head, slightly alarmed. “Am I sure I want to give my husband a pre-work blowjob? Well I was, but now I’m not.”

“No, not that. Please keep doing that,” T.K. says, shifting a little bit, his hands going up behind his head. “I meant are you sure you want to go Christmas shopping with my dad today?”

“Oh, that.” Carlos presses another kiss into him. “Why wouldn’t I want to go?”

“Because my dad is…a lot,” T.K. says, then sucks in a breath when Carlos scrapes his teeth over that sexy hipbone. “And he’s terrible at Christmas shopping.”

“I know,” Carlos mumbles against T.K.’s skin. “That’s why I’m going.”

A week ago Owen had given him a call and invited him out for lunch and Christmas shopping. Surprised, but also pleased, he’d readily agreed and they’d made plans to meet at a restaurant in The Domain and hit up some of the stores afterward. Owen had texted Carlos last night to remind him to wear comfortable, practical footwear and bring reusable bags.

“Maybe,” he says, nipping at the sensitive skin in the crux of T.K.’s thigh so that he squirms, “if I go, you’ll actually get something you like this year.”

“You really think that you can convince my dad to buy something normal for Christmas?” T.K. scoffs. “Good luck.”

Carlos looks up at him again. “You underestimate the cow eyes?”

“You’re going to use the cow eyes on my dad?”

“If I have to.”

“You’re going to use the cow eyes on my dad to stop him from buying me a fifteen pound block of imported cheese from Italy because the salesman tells him it’s a good deal? Or a decorative, three foot tall, hand carved horse statue that he thinks matches the aesthetics of the loft? Or—“

“I will take care of it,” Carlos assures him.

“What if he—“

“T.K.!”

“What?”

“How about we stop talking about your dad while I’m trying to blow you?”

He tugs T.K.’s boxers down, freeing his morning wood and T.K. lets out a hiss as the cool air of the loft touches his skin along with Carlos’ fingers. “Okay, yeah,” he says, his voice tight with the beginnings of pleasure. “We can do that.”

Two hours later Carlos is showered and dressed and pulling into the parking lot on the north side of the Domain. He checks the mall map and heads toward Flower Child, a restaurant with great vegan options and fresh ingredients.

Owen is sitting at a table outside, a Yankees hat on his head, and he stands when Carlos gets close, excitement on his face. “Carlos, good to see you,” he says, pulling him in for a brief hug.

“Thank you for the invitation.”

Owen looks at him sympathetically as they sit. “I know this year is going to be hard,” he says. “And I know Christmas shopping with me isn’t the same as doing it with your dad, but I want to help where I can.”

Carlos bites back a snort of laughter. He and his dad never once Christmas shopped together. His dad hated shopping. It’s very sweet that Owen—who loves shopping and would consider an afternoon at the mall with his son a highlight of his week—thinks Gabriel and Carlos would have enjoyed doing the same, but honestly the idea of trying to drag his dad around for hours buying presents is hilarious.

“That’s very thoughtful Owen, thank you,” Carlos says, hoping with all his might that his dad is watching down from somewhere and laughing too.

“I took the liberty of ordering us both their seasonal rose petal lemonade,” Owen says. “Have you had the Glow Bowl here? The shiitake combined with the sunflower sauce is di-vine.”

“That sounds good,” Carlos says, flipping the menu over to take a look.

“The last time I brought T.K. here he had the roasted beet and organic apple salad.”

“I think I remember that,” Carlos says with a smile. His father-in-law has a penchant for taking menu items very seriously, a fun quirk that has carried over to T.K. His husband gets very excited anytime they try a new restaurant. Although he usually ends up liking Carlos’ meal better than his own, stealing bites until Carlos offers to switch.

He ends up ordering the Glow Bowl and Owen decides to go wild and try the Brussels sprouts and organic kale salad after some banter with their server. “So,” Owen says, taking a sip of his lemonade. “How’s the new job?”

“Not so new anymore,” Carlos says. It’s been almost eight months at this point, but he and Owen really haven’t spent any significant time together since he started with the Rangers outside of professional reasons. He’s barely had time for his husband let alone anyone else. “I feel like I’m starting to find my place though. It’s different from beat work.”

“I’d imagine so. The hat and the belts alone are quite the change,” Owen comments.

Carlos chuckles. “Yeah it’s definitely a look.”

“Well, it’s one you wear quite well. How’s your mom?”

His smile dims. “She’s okay. The holidays are hard. She and my dad had a lot of traditions. But my tías and my sisters have been around a lot, so that helps.”

“And she has a son who is carrying on his father’s legacy,” Owen says. “I’m sure that helps too.”

Carlos shrugs, letting his fingers hug the glass in front of him, the condensation making them slick. “I guess.”

“You are humble to a fault Carlos,” Owen says. “I’m sure both of your parents are proud of you. I know I am. The way you’ve handled things this last year is impressive.”

“It doesn’t feel impressive.” Vulnerability slips into his tone. It’s not something he allows often, but his father-in-law pulled him back from the edge of making one of the biggest, most irreparable mistakes of his life. He’s already seen Carlos at his worst; admitting that he’s been struggling won’t do any damage. “It feels like I’m barely keeping my head above water most days,” he admits.

“The first year of marriage is always challenging,” Owen tells him factually. “I would know, I’ve done it several times. You and T.K. have faced some unique circumstances that have made it even more difficult. But you’re still together, working on yourselves, your relationship, your careers. That is impressive. Don’t forget to let yourself celebrate it.”

“Thanks,” Carlos says, dropping his eyes as his cheeks flush. “That means a lot.”

“Good.” Owen taps the table, his face serious. “Now, let’s talk about T.K.’s birthday. I have some ideas.”

They eat and talk with companionable ease. Carlos steers Owen away from the idea of hiring a mariachi band and circus performers for the party, but does concede to hiring a DJ. They also decide to have it catered by Carlos and T.K.’s favorite taco truck; the one that makes homemade churros that are to die for.

When they finish eating they throw away their garbage and Owen looks at him with renewed vigor. “So,” he says, “where should we start?”

“Well I have a few ideas—”

“So do I! Come on, let me show you!”

Carlos follows his father-in-law down the line of stores. Even though it’s seventy-five degrees outside the place feels festive. There are windows decked out with wreaths and snowmen and Christmas trees, and Mariah Carey is blasting over the speakers. Families walk by, some smiling, others arguing. There are little kids dressed in their holiday best, ready for family photos, and a few melting down over toys that Santa won’t be bringing for several more weeks.

They walk into a store selling fitness equipment and Owen gestures grandly to a large black tub. “An ice bath!”

Carlos tries to school his face into something neutral. “An ice bath?”

“They are all the rage in the health and fitness industry right now. They boost your metabolism, provide stress relief, reduce inflammation, and improve your mood.”

“Mhm,” Carlos says, fully aware of the ice bath craze, but seeing for the first time just how difficult it might be to sway his father-in-law away from some of his more zany gift ideas.

Owen’s face falls in a way that is so reminiscent of T.K.’s disappointed face that Carlos feels a pang of guilt. “You don’t like it.”

“No, I—it’s a great idea,” Carlos says. “I’m just…I’m not sure where we’d put it in the loft.” He tries to emphasize how small and unsuited the loft is to this kind of gift without saying it aloud.

“Ah!” Owen says. “That’s the thing! This one is completely collapsible. Store it in the closet until you want it and then inflate it with one of these pumps in less than twenty minutes.” He grabs one off the shelf and holds it up to show Carlos. “It’s a cinch!”

“It…yeah. Seems…easy,” Carlos says, wondering how the hell he’s going to steer this ship to something more appropriate for T.K.

“And,” Owen says, “it’s really two for the price of one. Because you both can use it. Not at the same time obviously, it’s a very small tub.”

“Right,” Carlos says.

Owen eyes him critically. “Hm…you don’t seem to love the idea.”

“Oh no, I mean, if you think T.K.—“

“No, no, I can see it in your eyes. This isn’t the one. Not to worry, I have other options.”

He marches down a few aisles, but before they can find whatever it is he’s got his mind on, a smiling employee blocks their path. “Hello gentlemen. Finding everything you need?” she asks.

“Ah, not quite yet,” Owen tells her. “We are shopping for my son. This is his husband, Carlos.”

“Nice to meet you,” she says and something in her eyes hooks onto them. “You know, I’m not sure what exactly you’re in the market for, but we are having a sale on our elite face shape massagers.”

“Face shape massager?” Carlos asks in confusion.

She whips out a white box with a circular shaped device on the inside. “Yes! This little piece of technology can help reduce the appearance of double chins and improve skin quality! Would you like to give it a try?”

“Um, no, that’s okay,” Carlos says. “You know I really think we need to be moving on, right Owen?”

“No, no!” Owen says. “Give it a try. It can’t hurt. We Strand men have strong jawlines and I’m sure T.K. would like to keep his intact as the years go by. Let’s see how it works.”

Before Carlos can protest further the woman is looping the device over his head, his jaw clamping shut at the pressure. She pushes a button and red light illuminates his skin while the entire thing begins to vibrate. “Can you feel how the photons lift and firm the skin?” she asks.

“Mhmm,” Carlos says, the sound vibrating along with the massager.

“That is incredible,” Owen says, taking a step closer so he can get a better look. “It has red and blue infra lights?”

“It does! And it works even better when combined with our Cleopatra LED Light Mask,” she says, showing them a plastic mask that would make even Hannibal Lecter flee in terror. Carlos can only imagine how T.K. would use that to torture him, leaning over him in the middle of the night, his face lit by the red glow of the lights…

Carlos rips the massager off his face and hands it back to the woman. “Thank you so much for your time, but I think we’re going to go a different direction.”

"I don’t know Carlos, these both seem very reasonably priced,” Owen says, checking out the tag.

“You know what, I actually think T.K. already has both of these,” Carlos says in desperation. He mentally casts around for a believable lie. “…Marjan got them for his birthday… last year.”

“Oh, well, in that case—“

“What about for you, sir?” the woman asks Owen, her skills at capturing her prey honed to perfection after years of retail work. “I can see you take excellent care of your skin. Your pores are nearly non-existent.”

Owen beams and fifteen minutes later they walk out the door with two bags of “me-gifts” for him to put under his own Christmas tree. “Are you sure you don’t want some of these under eye de-puffers?” Owen asks, “They come in a two-pack.”

“I’m good,” Carlos says. “Thank you though.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Will do.”

“Okay,” Owen claps his hands. “So we’ve struck out on T.K. so far, but I have another idea.”

“Great!” Carlos says.

Owen looks at him with great confidence. “A hat.”

“A hat?”

“A hat.”

Forty-five minutes later Carlos loses the hat battle and they leave a Western wear shop with a brown leather cowboy hat for T.K. that he is going to love, but will have no practical use for outside of their bedroom. Owen is thrilled that his son can now match with Carlos, and Carlos is just glad they got the brown one and not the shiny blue one with silver stars.

He offers to take their bags to the car since they’re starting to get in the way and he’s on his way back, trying to figure out how he’s going to convince his father-in-law to go to Dick’s Sporting Goods and buy some batting gloves that are actually on T.K.’s wish list. Owen will probably dislike this idea because it is both practical and reasonably priced.

Carlos is plotting his plan of attack when a hand reaches out and grabs him, jerking him behind a sign with a map of the mall on it. “Whoa, hey!” he says, before realizing it’s Owen who has latched onto his arm. “What’s going on?”

“Look. Over there.”

Carlos follows the line of his finger to a kiosk selling cellphone cases and accessories. “Owen, what am I looking at?”

“That guy.”

“The one that looks like Santa?” The jolly, bearded fellow is talking to the seller at the kiosk, smiling and laughing.

“And the other guy.”

A shifty looking man, younger than the bearded grandfatherly type who is talking to the salesperson, is lurking near the stand too. “Okay…” Carlos says.

“I’ve been following them since you left. I’m pretty sure they just shoplifted from Bath and Body Works. And it looks like they’re about to do it again. We need to stop them.”

“Owen, that’s a pretty serious accusation. Are you sure that’s really what you saw?”

“The jolly one was distracting the workers with his holiday charm and I’m pretty sure the shifty one put several hand sanitizers in his pockets.”

Carlos barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Pretty sure?”

“There was a stand of candles in the way, but I know I’m very sure he was shoving them in by the handfuls.”

“Then let’s go tell a mall security guard.”

“All they’re going to do is call APD. You can arrest them now and prevent more crime from happening before APD can even get here.”

“I can’t arrest them because you think you saw them do something,” Carlos says.

Owen sighs. “Just watch. You’ll see.”

As they watch the shifty guy moves away from the stand and slinks toward another store a little further down. Carlos relaxes his shoulders. “See? Nothing happening here. Let’s check out—“

He’s interrupted by a huge crash as an entire shelf of the cellphone kiosk hits the floor, sending things flying everywhere. Everyone in the area stops and stares as the kiosk worker reels backward and falls to the floor.

Owen and Carlos move simultaneously. “Whoa, easy there,” Owen says as the kiosk worker tries to sit up. “That was a nasty fall. Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m okay,” he says, wincing as he pushes himself upright. “I don’t know what happened.”

“It looks like someone removed the pins from this shelf,” Carlos says, examining it.

“Removed the pins? Why would someone do that?”

“Could have been a prank of some kind,” Carlos says.

“Or it could have been someone trying to create a distraction,” Owen says, giving Carlos a meaningful look.

“A distraction?” The guy looks confused. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Carlos tells him. “Here, we’ll help you clean this up.”

They spend a few minutes picking up cellphone bits and bobs and helping the guy get the shelf back into place. “Is that everything?” Owen asks.

The guy looks around. “Yeah. I think so. Thank you guys for your help, I’m sure you have other things to get back to.”

As soon as they’re out of earshot Owen shakes his head. “Told you. Shoplifters.”

“Owen…”

“I know, you think I’m crazy. But where are that Santa guy and his shifty elf helper now, huh? Did they stick around to help? No. I bet you that shifty guy loosened that shelf on purpose and then he and Santa grabbed things from one of these nearby stores while we were distracted.”

“Or,” Carlos says pragmatically, “the shelf was never installed correctly and fell on its own.” He smiles and nods toward the sporting goods store. “How do we feel about some batting gloves?”

Owen does buy the batting gloves, but Carlos suspects it’s only because he’s preoccupied with his fictional shoplifter case. He keeps looking around, trying to be casual about it, but failing miserably. Strand men are great at a lot of things; subtlety is not one of them.

“You’re still thinking about those guys, huh?” Carlos asks as they walk out of Dick’s Sporting Goods.

“I know in my gut that they’re up to no good, Carlos,” Owen says. “You see a lot of shady people in my line of work.”

“More than in mine?” Carlos asks skeptically.

“Okay, fair point. But are you really telling me you don’t think they looked a little suspicious?”

Carlos mentally reviews what he saw earlier. “They definitely looked like they could be trouble. But we have no proof. Unless we see something else, there’s nothing we can do.”

“I’m so glad you agree,” Owen says. “I think it’s time for further investigation.”

Carlos stops walking, his brow furrowing in surprise. “Further investigation?”

“Come on. We’re making a little detour. I hope you know what you want for Christmas.”

Carlos follows him toward the center of the mall where a giant Christmas display has been set up and fake snow flurries from the sky. There’s a large gingerbread cottage, fake reindeer, a candy-cane lined path, mounds of cotton acting as the only snowfall Texas will see this year, and the centerpiece of it all is a gigantic throne upon which sits a jolly Santa who is holding two screaming toddlers while an elf attempts to get a picture worthy of a Christmas card.

“Owen, what are we doing here?” Carlos asks. Two men hanging around a kid-friendly area sans children is not a good look.

“I heard that Santa guy talking earlier. He doesn’t just look like Santa, he is one of the mall Santas. The scrawny guy is an elf. And I know where their green room is.” He takes a look around and then ducks under one of the candy cane striped ribbons that line the area to keep pedestrians out. “Follow my lead,” he says and then drops out of sight into a mound of cotton snow.

“Owen!” Carlos hisses, dropping to his own knees instinctually so that both of them are now hidden in the piles of fluff. “Owen what are you doing?”

“Investigating. This way,” Owen whispers over his shoulder, beckoning Carlos forward.

He really has no choice. Owen is going to do this whether Carlos follows him or not. So Carlos crawls on his hands and knees after his father-in-law, past reindeer legs and lollipop stems, until they reach the base of the gingerbread house.

Owen points silently toward a cutout window and, like something out of a cheesy, 90’s Christmas film, they both rise up underneath it, trying to listen and peek over the sill without being seen.

Sure enough the Santa look alike and his scrawny elf partner are both inside. “Ugh. Only like fifteen hand sanitizers and a couple hand lotions,” the scrawny guy says, shoving merchandise into a large blue duffle bag. “Got some decent jewelry from Kendra Scott while everyone was distracted with that cell phone kiosk though.”

“I told you. We have to keep it small. Otherwise people will get suspicious. Besides, we got that laptop last week and all those clothes from Anthropologie. Those are worth a lot on resale.” Santa takes a sip from his coffee cup. “I made almost ten grand off a mall in El Paso last year. Trust me. This’ll be worth it if we can make it a couple more weeks.”

“It had better be. This elf costume itches,” the scrawny guy retorts, reaching for a red and green costume hanging from a hook on the wall.

Owen motions to Carlos and they crawl back out toward the regular part of the mall. “There you have it,” Owens says as they stand. “Proof. Let’s bust in there and arrest them.”

“You aren’t authorized to arrest anyone. And I’m off duty,” Carlos says. “There are lots of bystanders around. This isn’t a violent crime. We need to call it in first.”

“Okay, so call away.”

“I will,” Carlos says. “Keep an eye on them, let me know if they go anywhere.”

“You got it,” Owen says.

Carlos sends a mental apology to his dad. He’d been really annoyed all those times Gabriel had gotten caught up in one of Owen Strand’s schemes. But now he can see that it’s a very slippery slope and once you start sliding you can’t stop.

He places a call, explains the situation and confirms that officers will be arriving shortly. Relieved that this is almost over, he turns back to tell Owen they need to stick around until APD arrives, but Owen has vanished

Frantically Carlos scans the area, his eyes landing in horror on the line of children and parents waiting eagerly to meet Santa. Sometime in the last ten minutes their suspects have taken center stage, Santa on his throne and Scrawny taking photos. Owen is up next in line, the woman behind him eyeing him suspiciously as she holds tightly to the hand of an eager little boy in a sweater with a T-Rex wearing reindeer antlers on its head.

Before Carlos can even move, Scrawny, now dressed in full red and green elf regalia, calls Owen forward and he marches up toward Santa’s throne. “Oh no,” Carlos whispers under his breath as he jogs over to the line. “Excuse me,” he says, trying to push toward the front.

“Hey! No cutting! Get in the back!” an irate father yells.

Another elf with a headset puts both hands out to stop Carlos from moving further. “Sir! Sir! You have to wait at the end of the line!”

“This is official Texas Ranger business,” Carlos tells her, his heart pounding as he watches Owen step right up to their suspects.

“Right, sure it is,” she scoffs.”

“Buddy, what do you want?” Santa asks, suspicion in his voice, despite the smile on his face.

“Owen, stop!” Carlos calls desperately, pushing past the headset elf who immediately begins calling for security.

Either Owen doesn’t hear or he doesn’t care, his voice carrying over the din of the crowd. “What I want to know is, why you think it’s acceptable to use the good name of Santa Claus for criminal activity,” he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Santa tells him. “Ho, ho, ho, is this some kind of joke?”

“It most certainly is not a joke,” Owen says. “Santa is supposed to give gifts away, not steal them for himself.”

“Okay, get out of here,” Scrawny the elf says, marching toward him.

“I will not get out of here,” Owen says hotly. “The two of you are robbing the stores of this mall and I won’t stand for it. Not at Christmas.”

“Buddy, you knock it off right now,” Santa says, his twinkly persona dropping away as he gets to his feet.

“You don’t deserve to wear this suit,” Owen tells him, poking a finger at his chest. “We have evidence of what you’ve done. Let’s not make a scene in front of all these families. The respectable thing to do here is to calmly turn yourselves over to the authorities.”

Owen is right. That would be the respectable thing to do. But this is not a respectable Santa.

Instead, he runs. And Owen goes after him.

“Owen! Wait!” Carlos yells, vaulting a gumdrop fence to try and get closer.

It’s too late. Owen takes a flying leap and tackles Santa into a snowbank, knocking a fake reindeer’s head off in the process as the crowd around the display gasps in shock and Run, Run Rudolph begins to blast over the speakers.

“Stop! Texas Ranger!” Carlos yells, and then ducks as Scrawny grabs a giant candy cane and swings it at his head.

Carlos catches the candy cane in both hands and grabs on tightly. “Drop it!” he orders.

Scrawny refuses to let go and they wrestle over it for a minute until Carlos manages to rip it out of his hands, chucking it to the side. “Get on your knees,” he says, but Scrawny is scrappy. He lunges forward and catches Carlos around the middle, sending both of them sprawling onto the floor.

Carlos grunts as he lands flat on his back, the air immediately knocked from his lungs. Scrawny takes advantage of that to deliver a devastating blow to his jaw that sends pain exploding through Carlos’ face.

On instinct more than skill he manages to hook a leg around Scrawny and roll them both over, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the floor. “Stop moving,” he orders between gritted teeth. “Turn over.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Scrawny yells.

“Yeah well, you can tell the officers all about that when they get here,” Carlos huffs out, shoving the man onto his front and pinning his hands behind his back.

His assailant subdued, he looks up and find that Owen has Santa in a headlock. “Get off of me!” Santa yells.

“You, are a very bad Santa,” Owen says breathlessly as blood pools in a cut on his lip and a black eye begins blooming around his eye socket.

“He’s hurting Santa!” The yell of a small child catches Carlos’ attention and his face heats as he realizes how many onlookers are gaping at them, cellphones taking video that is likely going to break the internet at some point later today.

“Owen let him go!” Carlos calls as mall security appears in the distance, one of them cruising in on a Segway that has been decorated in red and green tinsel garland.

Owen releases Santa, both of them doubling over in pain as Carlos pulls Scrawny to his feet. The Segway security guard skids to a stop and approaches him warily. “I’m Carlos Reyes, a Major with the Texas Rangers,” Carlos tells him. “These two have been stealing from stores in the mall all day. I have APD on the way.”

“We’ve been getting reports of items missing,” the officer says. “Didn’t ever think it would be Santa and his elf though.”

“Do you have somewhere to hold these two until they get here?” Carlos asks.

“Yes, sir.”

Carlos hands off Scrawny as another two guards grab Santa and plop him down into the back of a golf cart, securing his hands with zip ties.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks Owen. It’s hard to get the words out, his jaw aching more and more with each syllable as it begins to swell.

“He got a couple good shots in,” Owen says, swiping at the blood on his lip. “I’ve had worse though.”

“You should have let me handle it,” Carlos says.

“Sorry Carlos, I know you’re good. But you’re not good enough to take on Santa and his elf,” Owen tells him.

Someone from mall security gets them ice and then APD finally shows up. Carlos has just finished giving his statement to an officer when EMS arrives. He groans when he sees who it is. “We’re in trouble.”

Owen follows his gaze and winces. “Oh yeah. We are.”

Tommy, Nancy, and T.K. are moving toward them and Carlos can spot the exact moment they get close enough to realize who they’re going to be helping today because all three of them freeze on the spot. T.K.’s eyes go wide and then a mixture of worry and fury crosses his face as he picks up the pace and beats his partner and his boss to their sides.

“What happened?” he demands, kneeling down and putting a hand on Carlos’ thigh.

“There was a situation that needed to be dealt with and we handled it,” Owen says and T.K. shoots him a look of fury.

“What does that mean?”

“It means Santa was up to no good and we stopped it,” Carlos says, suddenly feeling very tired.

T.K. opens his mouth, but Tommy and Nancy reach them at that point and they have their own questions. “Well this is a bit of a surprise,” Tommy says, reaching for the ice that Owen is holding on his eye. “What on earth have you two been up to today?”

“Yeah Captain Strand, I thought you had worked through the anger issues,” Nancy says, attaching a pulse oximeter to Carlos’ index finger.

“This wasn’t anger. This was holiday related justice,” Owen says primly.

“More like holiday related shenanigans,” T.K. mutters under his breath, but the concerned eyes he shoots at Carlos and the steady rubbing of his hand up and down Carlos’ thigh for comfort bely that his anger is really just worry.

“Okay, both of you, tell us what hurts,” Tommy commands.

In the end they get taken to the hospital for x-rays. Owen is pronounced fine, no damage done to his eye socket, although he’ll have one hell of a black eye, and Carlos’ jaw isn’t broken, but it is badly bruised. Scrawny really packed a punch. He’s relieved when he’s finally back home in bed, T.K. fussing over the comforter and the ice pack he’s holding to his face.

“Is the ice too cold?” T.K. asks. “Are you hungry? Of course you’re hungry, it’s like eight o’clock. I’m going to make you some soup.”

Carlos has a feeling he won’t be eating solids for several days, and soup does sound good; lunch with Owen feels like weeks ago at this point. But he catches T.K.’s hand and tugs him down onto the bed instead. “In a minute,” Carlos says. “Sit with me for a bit first.”

T.K. perches on the edge a frown on his face as he brushes a hand through Carlos’ curls. “I shouldn’t have let you go with my dad today. I knew something like this would happen.”

“How could you possibly have known something like this would happen?” Carlos asks, cracking an incredulous smile and then wincing when it sends throbs of pain through his face.

“Because that’s how it always is with my dad. If there’s trouble, he’s going to find it. He’s almost gotten us killed twice. He went undercover with a white nationalist group. He bought a horse and kept it at the firehouse for weeks. It’s like he literally can’t help himself.”

“He did the right thing today though,” Carlos says. “Those guys had stolen thousands of dollars worth of stuff from the shops in the mall.”

“I know, but I wish you hadn’t been in the middle of it,” T.K. grumbles, his hand coming up to gently cup Carlos’ bruised jaw. “Did you get any shopping done? Or did you spend the entire time playing detective?”

“Oh we got some shopping done,” Carlos says. “And I tried. I really tried babe. But your dad is…”

“Stubborn? Difficult? Unpredictable?”

Carlos nods. “All of those things.”

“So? What should I look forward to getting for Christmas this year?”

“How do you feel about hats…?”

#tarlossanta #tarlossanta24 #Tarlos #911 Lone Star #Owen Strand #Carlos Reyes #Christmas Shenanigans #T.K. Strand #Bad Santa

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