#and like. i hesitate to play it as often now

[buzzcutlip]

For @tyferbebe who requested "You know you didn't have to get me anything" & Touch starved from my Winter prompts list <3 I changed the sentence a little bit

Not Monday Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Rated E (oral sex) 2170 words

You have a massive, ginormous crush on your neighbour, Carmen Berzatto. You find him extremely good-looking—even though he might not be the typical hot guy type—and the fact that he’s a successful chef takes things to an even higher level. The fact that he’s been capable of running some of the best restaurants in the world definitely impresses you, and, frankly, turns you on in all sorts of ways.

Hi, are you at home?

Mind if I pop in for a sec?

The two messages from Carmy show up on the screen of your phone, and you simultaneously panic and get excited. You’ve just returned from the Christmas family visit late last night, and now you’re in the middle of unpacking, sorting out dirty laundry, and eating leftovers. The urge to put on at least a bit of makeup and change out of your old sweatpants is strong, but on the other hand, you’re worried that Carmen’s plan might change if you don’t respond immediately.

Sure, come over!

The next second, you hear the door opposite yours open and shut, followed by a quick rap on your entrance door. When you open it, you’re still clutching your phone in one hand.

“Wow, you’re quick,” you blurt out with a laugh. Carmy smiles back, his dimples appearing, and your heart swells. Your eyes quickly roam over his form and face, hoping that he won’t notice your obvious gluttonous interest.

“I’m returning the screwdriver,” Carmen says, handing you the tool he borrowed at the beginning of December.

“Oh, thank you.” This has become a game you two play. Not so innocent on your side, as you would often come up with silly reasons, but hopefully convincing ones, to either visit Carmy or invite him over to your place—to borrow a cup of flour, ask him to change a bulb, or help you move the sofa. On the other hand, Carmen’s been over to yours for small favors like shirt ironing, sewing a button on his chef whites, or suggestions for Natalie’s birthday present.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say quickly, clutching the screwdriver like it’s a precious artifact. “I just got back last night and haven’t really… sorted everything out yet.”

Carmen shrugs, a little smile playing at his lips. “Looks fine to me.” His eyes linger for a moment on the half-open suitcase spilling clothes onto the floor before they return to you. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s caught between being bashful and wanting to stay longer.

“So, uh, how was your trip?” he asks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. You know that despite The Bear being closed for the Christmas holidays, Carmen was probably busy coming up with new dishes and similar things. No rest for the wicked.

You’re a little surprised by the question—he doesn’t usually linger after these quick exchanges. “Good. A little chaotic, but that’s family for you.” Carmen knows about your mother and three siblings—each of you with a different father—and how intense she gets.

Carmen chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you wonder if it’s possible to bottle it. You’d play it on repeat whenever you needed cheering up. “I can imagine.”

“Oh—wait! I’ve got something for you,” you suddenly remember and reach into your suitcase to fish out a small package adorned with a green ribbon.

Carmen’s eyes widen, flicking between you and the package as you hand it to him. “It’s Belgian chocolate. Milk with roasted almonds and sea salt,” you quickly explain. “One of my older brother’s father is Belgian. He always sends a lot of chocolates. I think he doesn’t remember how old we are anymore,” you shrug. “This is my favorite.”

Carmen’s face softens as he looks at the package in your hand, and he hesitates for just a moment before taking it. His fingers brush yours, and you don’t miss the way he notices it too—his eyes darting to yours for a fraction of a second.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, his voice quieter, almost shy. “It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “I mean, you’ve helped me out so many times. And besides…” You trail off, shrugging again as you feel a little self-conscious. “I thought you might like it.”

Carmen studies the package for a moment before meeting your eyes again. There’s something so earnest about the way he looks at you, it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Thanks…Uhm—I didn’t get you anything.”

You wave your hand dismissively, shaking your head as you try to mask the pang of disappointment you feel, even though you honestly hadn’t expected a present from Carmy. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like that.”

Carmen’s shoulders relax slightly, though his brows remain knitted together like he’s still mulling it over. “Still… I feel bad now,” he mutters.

“You really don’t have to,” you insist, a small laugh escaping you. “I mean, unless you wanna give me the New Year’s kiss I didn’t get.”

When you blurt out the last sentence, your eyes widen as you realize what you just said. You quickly laugh again, only this time it sounds a bit forced. “I guess I take that from my mom—finding the right guy who would stick around is not my strength,” you ramble on uncomfortably, trying your best to get out of the situation with as much dignity as possible.

Carmen looks genuinely caught off guard, like he’s not sure if you’re joking or not. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, spreading all the way to your ears. “You serious, or…?”

Your heart skips—no, jumps—at his words. The laugh that escapes you now is soft, nervous, and entirely unplanned. “I mean… maybe?” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carmen’s eyes flicker to yours as he steps just a little closer, the tension between you so thick you can almost touch it. “You tell me,” he says conspiratorially, his voice even softer now.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he leans in, his movements careful, like he’s giving you all the time in the world to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head, your lips brushing his just barely, soft and tentative.

It’s you who leans back first, afraid of him ending the kiss. Only now do you realize you’re wearing old sweatpants and a stretched-out t-shirt, your face completely makeup-free. Carmen’s seen you at The Bear, when you went there for dinner with a friend—all dressed up in fancy clothes and carefully styled hair. “I’m a mess,” you state, still vibrating from the little kiss.

“You always look pretty,” Carmy says quietly with a small smile, sounding genuine. You want nothing more than to kiss him some more, so you ask: “Was that just a one-time—” but before you have a chance to finish your question, or even your thought, Carmy’s lips are on yours again, and your brain short-circuits.

Your bed is hiding behind an old antique paravent you bought in Boston when you first moved here. The bed itself is large, just how you like it, with a solid wood-carved headboard. That’s where you end up together.

The touch of your tongue against Carm’s is intoxicating; the taste of his kiss is absolutely addictive. You moan into the kiss needily, the sound catching in the back of your throat, and blush furiously at your own reaction.

Despite how much you hate admitting it, it’s been years since you kissed someone like this—since a guy has touched you like Carmen is now. His hands roam up and down your sides under your jumper, squeezing the meat of your thighs, enveloping you heavily, wholly.

Carmy’s solid weight above you is grounding and electrifying all at once. Your hands find their way under his hoodie, fingers brushing against his warm skin, the wiry strength of muscle a reminder of how physical his life is. He lets out a quiet, almost shy groan when your nails graze his back, and you feel the sound in your chest as much as you hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks between kisses, his voice husky, his breath warm against your neck. The care in his tone makes your stomach flip. “Yes,” you whisper, arching into him.

That seems to give him permission, and his touch grows bolder. He pushes your shirt up, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist, sending shivers up your spine. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck, each kiss deliberate. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep still under his attention, your head tilting restlessly, your teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the embarrassing noises spilling from you.

When Carmen leans away and up, you almost protest. He sits back on his haunches between your spread legs, all flushed cheeks and messy hair. He looks adorable and also devastatingly hot. Before you can say anything, he swiftly takes off his t-shirt and jumper in one go, and you finally have the opportunity to admire his bare torso.

The second you want to get up to explore his torso properly with your hands—and maybe your mouth—he stops you.

“Lie back,” Carmy gently nudges you into position, and you obey willingly, watching him curiously.

Carmen’s gaze is heavy, filled with an intensity that sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths as he studies you quietly. All you can do is watch as he reaches down for the waist of your sweatpants.

“Can I…” he trails off, leaning down to kiss the sliver of bare skin peeking between the waistband and the jumper. Immediately, you nod, letting him know he has your consent. You even help him push the garment down your legs and off. His calloused fingers are warm, rough in a way that contrasts beautifully with how gently he’s touching you. You feel like you’re about to melt into the bed.

A sudden stillness forces you to open your eyes to check on Carmy. He’s staring down, right between your legs.

“It’s not Monday,” he says, sensing your eyes on him.

“Whaat?”

He touches his thumb to your pelvis bone. “Here. It says ‘Monday.’”

Confused, you look down. It takes you only about two seconds to understand that he’s referring to the word on your panties, just above a picture of daisies.

“Shut up,” you nudge him with your knee, laughing.

He chuckles low, his breath fanning against your skin as he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I’m just observant,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin between words, sending a violent shiver up your spine with the tender contact.

“And for the record, these”—he hooks a finger under the elastic, tugging gently—“are cute as hell.”

Then, instead of taking your underwear off as you expect, he takes your hand in his and pulls it down to your crotch—a silent invitation to touch yourself. You do, feeling your heart in your throat, turned on and shy in equal measures. Carmen watches as you stroke yourself through your panties, hesitantly at first. You’ve been wet since the moment you two started kissing, the damp patch on the pale blue fabric drawing Carmy’s eyes.

He lowers himself, planting open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs and moving higher, closer to your core. He kisses your hand too, mouthing at it with his tongue as if it were your mouth—or your pussy. You can’t believe something so innocent can feel so sexual, and you let out a stream of soft moans. With every passing second, you’re closer and closer to voicing out loud that it’s time for the main act.

Carmen seems to sense it—your need, your desperation. His gaze flickers up to your face, heavy-lidded, and he murmurs, “Don’t rush. Let me take care of you.” His voice is a low rasp, full of tenderness and heat.

The way he’s looking at you sends another ripple of arousal straight through you, and your breath catches when he pulls the soaked crotch of your panties aside, kissing your pussy for the first time.

“Fuck. Carmy,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He hums against you, not letting up, giving you a hard lick—one that ends right at your sensitive clit. Your hands find his hair, threading through the soft strands as his lips and tongue explore you. You can feel his breath against your skin, the way it hitches every time you squirm or let out a sound. All the sensations are new, overwhelming, and intense in the best possible way.

Carmen doesn’t stop, doesn’t hesitate. His mouth is warm, deliberate, and unrelenting. The rough drag of his tongue paired with the softness of his lips makes your head spin. Each stroke feels like he’s memorizing you, mapping out what makes you gasp and moan with the precision of someone determined to get it right.

[luxerians]

The Last Mask (07)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 07 - Oh Young-il

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 08

PREV : Chapter 06

All six of you were led back to the dormitory. As you stepped inside, a low murmur of chatter echoed among the surviving players. But the moment your group entered, the room fell silent. You felt the weight of every gaze, the burn of eyes boring into your team as if your survival was a personal affront.

“They don’t seem so happy to see us,” player 001 remarked, his tone light but tinged with awareness.

With player 001 leading the way, your team moved toward the familiar corner where you often gathered. The quiet tension lingered, following you like eyes.

You glanced back at player 222, who trailed at the far end of your group. Slowing your pace, you allowed her to catch up before wrapping a gentle arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, have you made any friends here yet?” you asked softly.

She shook her head silently, her expression fragile. Offering her a small, reassuring smile, you said, “Then stay with us. We usually hang out in that corner.”

You nodded toward the area your group was heading for. Player 222 hesitated, her eyes flicking to the others as if gauging whether she’d be welcomed. Noticing her uncertainty, you gave her shoulder a comforting pat, keeping your arm around her as you gently guided her forward.

As you walked, Jung-bae’s enthusiastic wave caught your attention. You followed his line of sight and saw the mother (149) and her son (007). The mother’s face lit up with pure relief and joy at seeing your group alive. She and her son waved at you and player 222 with genuine warmth.

“That sweet old lady,” Jung-bae commented wistfully. “I miss my mom.”

You returned the wave with a smile while player 222 bowed politely to them. After the brief exchange, you continued toward the corner with player 222 at your side.

Once there, your group settled in. Gi-hun took his usual spot at the far end, and player 222 sat on the lower staircases just in front of him. Player 001 sat beside Gi-hun, with you taking the lower step in front of him, next to player 222. Dae-ho and Jung-bae sat nearby, completing the circle. For the first time since returning, the corner felt like a small haven amidst the uneasy silence of the dormitory.

“I’m sorry about earlier, everyone,” player 001 spoke up, drawing the group’s attention. He was clearly referring to his struggles during the Spinning Top event.

“It’s okay,” you said first, offering him a reassuring smile. “Everyone has moments like that, but you didn’t give up, and that’s what mattered.”

Player 001 glanced at you, his eyes softening. He smiled appreciatively. Jung-bae patted his knee with a comforting smile, while Dae-ho shook his head as if dismissing the need for an apology.

“Don’t be,” Gi-hun added. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made the last kick.”

Player 001 turned his attention to player 222, his tone gentle. “Player 222, are you feeling alright?”

“Yes,” she replied quietly, nodding with a small smile. “Thank you all for letting me be on your team.”

You smiled warmly at her. “From now on, just stay with us.”

Player 222’s gazed at you in surprise before she bowed her head respectfully. “Okay. Thank you, big sis.”

Jung-bae chimed in, his tone light. “She smashed that Ddakji and flipped it on her first try. That was impressive.”

Player 222’s smile grew, but she lowered her head slightly, her expression bashful. You smiled wider at her reaction.

“She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team,” Jung-bae added.

“What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot,” Dae-ho said. He got up from the staircase and mimicked Jung-bae’s underhand throw. “Bam! You were like Kim Byung-hyun.”

Laughter rippled through the group, you and player 001 joining in. Jung-bae shook his head, chuckling. “And you? Was Gonggi the only game you ever played?”

Jung-bae then mimicked Dae-ho’s swift movements during Gonggi, adding exaggerated sound effects as if reenacting a battle. “I could barely see your hands. It was like watching a martial arts movie.”

Dae-ho laughed before he shared, “I’m the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters.”

“And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?” asked Jung-bae, raising his eyebrows.

Dae-ho’s face froze for a moment. He stared at Jung-bae, his grin faltering slightly, then replied, “My father’s idea. He wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see.”

“Oh,” you said softly, the others nodding as they listened.

“He sounds like a great man,” said Jung-bae. “Was he a Marine too?”

“Yeah, well…” Dae-ho muttered, then suddenly shifted his attention to you. His tone brightened as he said in awe, “But how could we forget about Miss? The way you threw those arrows was awesome!”

He mimicked the way the arrows arched in the air and landed perfectly in the vase. “You must’ve done that a lot!”

Jung-bae turned to you as well, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. You passed on the first try and still had arrows left. Did you play sports like that?”

You chuckled, feeling a bit shy under their praise. “Not really. My school had games like Tuho during festivals. I joined for fun and found out I was good at it.”

“Ah,” the others murmured, nodding in understanding.

Jung-bae grinned at you. “We were lucky to have you. Oh, does your family know about your Tuho skills?”

You blinked and nodded. “Yeah, they do.”

Jung-bae leaned forward, his tone teasing. “Then they have nothing to be afraid of. If any bad guys show up, you’ll just grab something and throw it right into their eyes.”

Gi-hun, player 001, and Dae-ho let out brief, subtle laughs, and you couldn’t help but grin along. But as Jung-bae’s teasing lingered in the air, your mind wandered. You thought of your parents at the hospital and Ji-yoo. They must be wondering where you are right now, you realized.

Your smile gradually faded, and though you didn’t notice, player 001 and player 222 did. Their gazes lingered on you, a quiet concern settling between them. Jung-bae, however, remained oblivious.

“Oh, wait,” Jung-bae asked again, his tone light. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

You put on a small smile. “Oh, no, they don’t. They’re in the hospital right now, so I’m sure they have no idea where I am.”

The shift in the group’s mood was immediate. Their laughter faded, replaced by concern. Jung-bae tilted his head, his tone curious but cautious. “The hospital? Why? Are they sick?”

You forced a small smile, trying to sound casual. “Not exactly. They had a run-in with some loan sharks. My dad borrowed money, couldn’t pay it back, and… well, things got out of hand.”

The group went quiet, their gazes fixed on you. The weight of their attention felt heavy, and you glanced around, catching their curious and concerned expressions. You forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. My parents are doing fine in the hospital now.”

“Miss…” Dae-ho’s voice broke the silence, hesitant. He pulled his jacket’s collar up to his nose as if it could shield him from the gravity of his own question. “What did the loan sharks do?”

At first, you hesitated, unsure if you should tell them. Their concerned faces made it harder to avoid, so you took a breath and put on a fake smile, trying to mask the unease growing inside you.

“They roughed up my parents. Dropped them off on the porch. They’re in the hospital now, but they’re tough. They’ll bounce back,” you pause, glancing at the floor briefly, then looked up with that same forced smile. “I'm taking care of their debt now. But it's tough because the loan sharks recently tripled the amount.”

Player 001 leaned forward slightly, his calm voice cutting through the tension. “How much?”

You informed, “It’s not just the loan anymore. The hospital bills for my parents… the interest… everything together. It’s 350 million won.”

“Wah,” Jung-bae said, staggered by the amount. “Unless you hit a jackpot or something, that’s impossible to pay off by yourself. Those loan sharks are scum.”

Dae-ho spoke up, “Miss, I didn’t realize you were carrying so much. You always seemed cheerful, and I thought it was just money issues bringing you here. But you’ve really been through a lot.”

“Did those loan sharks ever hurt you?” player 001 asked, his gaze steady and piercing.

This was when your fake smile dropped. You dropped your gaze and said, “No. But they sent me a note. It said they’d… resort to drastic measures if I didn’t pay. They threatened to hurt my little sister. That’s why I’m here. I need the money for my family.”

You glanced at player 001, catching the way he stared at you deeply, his expression unreadable but intense. Gi-hun also stared at you, quiet and contemplative. It struck you that he might be thinking you’d consider staying in the game longer to accumulate more prize money.

Quickly, you spoke up, “Not that I plan to stay here any longer, though. No matter how much I earn, I want to go home.”

Gi-hun nodded in understanding, the tension in his face easing. Turning to Jung-bae, you bowed your head slightly. “Sorry for bringing up such a heavy topic.”

The group shook their heads, brushing off your apology. Jung-bae was the first to respond. “No, it’s fine! Honestly, I’ve been curious about why you’re here anyway. You look so out of place.”

Dae-ho nodded energetically. “I’ve been wondering the same thing too. You and Miss 222… you don’t seem like you belong here.”

You blinked at him. “Is it because we’re girls?”

Dae-ho grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Well, yeah. But Miss 222 is pregnant, and you… you’re really pretty. Honestly, you should be filming a commercial, not stuck here.”

The unexpected compliment made you smile sincerely this time. Heat rose to your cheeks as you glanced away shyly. Before you could respond, player 222 spoke softly, “Yes, you’re very beautiful, big sis.”

Jung-bae and Gi-hun smiled in agreement, their expressions earnest. Player 001 chimed in, “I agree. Many players here keep glancing at you.”

You lowered your head bashfully.

Suddenly, Dae-ho pushed himself up from his seat and stepped confidently into the center of your group, his usual energy lighting up the moment.

“Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other’s names. I still don’t know your names, gentlemen. Or yours, Miss,” he said, glancing at player 222 before turning back to you with a grin. “Though I already know yours. Still, let’s do this properly as a group.”

He straightened up. “I’ll start. I’m Kang Dae-ho. ‘Dae’ means big, and ‘ho’ means tiger.”

Jung-bae chuckled lightly. “Oh, ‘big tiger.’ Cool name. My name is Park Jung-bae. ‘Righteous’ and ‘twice.’ My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous.”

Player 222 hesitated briefly before introducing herself. “My name is Kim Jun-hee. I don’t know what it means, though.”

The group smiled at her warmly. Player 001’s voice softened as he spoke to her, “Jun-hee, when you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You’ve been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out.”

You noticed how gentle his tone was, and it melted your heart. He was genuinely considerate of her condition, and it showed in every word.

“Okay,” Jun-hee replied, her voice small but grateful.

Player 001 shifted his gaze to you, and you noticed the others following suit. Their expectant looks made it clear they were waiting for your introduction.

“My name is [Your Full Name],” you said next, offering a small smile. “I’ve never checked what it means.”

The others nodded in acceptance, their smiles encouraging. Player 001 also commented with a soft smile, “It sounds perfect for you. Beautiful, even.”

You hung your head bashfully.

Finally, player 001 spoke. “I’m Oh Young-il.”

You stared at him. Finally, you got his name.

“Young-il?” Jung-bae repeated in bewilderment.

“Yes,” Young-il said, pointing at his player number. “Young-il sounds like ‘zero one,’ and that’s my number. Easy to remember.”

Dae-ho’s eyes lit up as he pointed to the number on Young-il’s uniform. “Oh, that’s true! Your name is your number!”

“What a coincidence,” you remarked, smiling. “Maybe the game makers noticed the connection and assigned you as 001 on purpose.”

Young-il chuckled at your comment, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Who knows? It does feel a little too perfect.”

Jung-bae nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s almost like fate.”

Young-il turned to the man beside him with a curious expression. “Oh, Gi-hun. What’s your last name?”

“My name is Seong Gi-hun,” he said, finally introducing himself as his gaze flicked to you and the rest of the group.

You and the others nodded, murmuring sounds of acknowledgment. Young-il, however, tilted his head thoughtfully before remarking, “Oh. But ‘Seong’ literally means ‘last name.’”

He broke into a laugh at his own comment, his amusement evident. The rest of the group stared at him as if not quite catching on. You stared at him for a moment, then it clicked – he was probably making a dad joke. Unable to hold back, you chuckled softly, the lighthearted moment easing the mood a little.

A blaring beeping noise echoed through the dormitory. As usual, the main double doors opened, and the pink-clad guards marched in. At the front, the familiar square-masked guard stood.

You and the rest of the players turned to watch. Many began rising from their seats or stepping away from their hangout spots, awaiting the the announcement.

“Congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game. Here are the results of the second game,” the square-masked guard announced, holding up a remote control.

With a click, the dormitory lights dimmed, leaving the room bathed in the eerie glow of the piggy bank suspended near the ceiling. The familiar sound of money dropping filled the air as stacks of bills cascaded into the transparent bank. Almost every player stood, their eyes fixed on the mesmerizing sight.

You found yourself staring too, unable to shake the grim realization that each stack represented the lives of players who didn’t make it.

When the flow of money stopped, the guard spoke again. “In the second game, 114 players were eliminated. The prize money accumulated up to this point is 19.8 billion won. Since there are 258 players remaining, each person’s share is 76,744,186 won.”

Hearing the amount, you hung your head low. The number was far from what you needed to cover your debt. Disappointment gnawed at you. Unbeknownst to you, Young-il, standing just beside you, stared at you.

“Wait, what?” a player exclaimed, his tone sharp with dissatisfaction. “It’s still under 100 million? It’s not even 80 million.”

A woman with an ‘O’ patch on her chest asked bluntly, “Only 114 people died? Is that all? Did you count them right?”

Another voice from the O zone yelled out, “That’s all? But you shot all those people!”

Player 100 joined in, his voice rising above the others. “Count them again!”

The dissatisfaction rippled through the crowd as more players voiced their anger.

The square-masked guard's voice cut through the noise. “I completely understand your disappointment. However, we always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. You will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not.”

The circle-masked guards moved efficiently, setting up the voting equipment. The square guard continued, “Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here is entirely your choice. Please feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner.”

All of you were given a short break as the circle guards set up everything for the voting. You stood there, your head still hung low, disappointment lingering at the thought of 70 million won being nowhere near enough to solve your problems.

“[Your name],” Gi-hun called, breaking through your thoughts.

You blinked and turned to him. Gi-hun stepped down onto the same staircase where you stood, positioning himself on your left since Young-il was already standing to your right. His stare was steady.

“If the vote goes our way and we leave this game,” Gi-hun began, “memorize my phone number. Contact me. I want to help you and your situation.”

You gaped at him, stunned by his sudden offer. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jun-hee observing the two of you, her curiosity clear. Behind you, the subtle sound of shifting made you aware that Young-il had fully turned his attention to your conversation.

Gi-hun continued, “I still have billions of won left. More than enough to help your family. If you’re more comfortable, we can arrange to meet somewhere. Maybe at a park or a subway station.”

His words caught you off guard, but they brought a warm smile to your face. You nodded gratefully. “Thank you. That would mean a lot.”

Gi-hun returned your smile. Before you could say more, Young-il’s voice interrupted gently.

“I’d like to help as well,” Young-il said calmly.

You turned to him, your eyes wide in surprise. His gaze met yours, steady and kind.

“Whether it’s protection or financial support, I’ll do whatever I can. If we leave this place, let’s set up a meeting as well,” Young-il offered.

A soft warmth spread across your cheeks as his words sank in. You bowed your head respectfully, your voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you so much, you two.”

Young-il’s smile widened, but it quickly faltered when he noticed Gi-hun staring at the O patch on his chest. Young-il reassured him, “Don’t worry. I want to stop here too.”

Gi-hun’s shoulders relaxed, his posture softening as he nodded. “Ah, right. You have a wife waiting for you at the hospital.”

The words landed like a thunderclap. Your body froze, a chill running through you as your eyes darted to Young-il. You had suspected he might be married. His maturity and demeanor hinted at it. But hearing it confirmed struck you harder than you expected. It was in that instant you realized you had developed a crush on him, and the realization made your heart sink.

Your gaze stayed locked on Young-il, searching his face for confirmation. But instead of a smile, his expression tightened. He froze, his features tense, and the cheerful warmth he’d carried moments ago vanished. His silence stretched on until Gi-hun frowned and asked, “What? What’s wrong?”

Young-il’s eyes flicked to you briefly before he averted his gaze, his discomfort clear. You couldn’t help but gawk at him, your emotions tangled between disappointment and confusion. Young-il ruffled his hair awkwardly, exhaling deeply as if bracing himself.

“Well, about that…” he began, his tone hesitant, but you had heard enough.

Your gaze shifted away from him, and that’s when you noticed the other players gathering at the far back of the dormitory. The guards appeared to have finished setting up for the voting process.

Without another word, you stood and left the circle, making your way toward the crowd. The noise of the group and the hum of activity around you dulled the turmoil in your mind, but the questions lingering about Young-il remained unanswered.

You couldn’t understand why you felt so angry. It wasn’t his fault. Deep down, you’d always suspected he might be married. Still, you’d let yourself get swept up in the little moments, the kind words and gestures that made your heart skip a beat. You’d let your feelings blind you to reality.

You never saw this coming – you having a crush on an older adult male. The teenage version of you would be terrified, but you couldn’t help it. This Young-il guy was so charming, so caring, so considerate towards you.

But he’s married already. He has a wife waiting for him. At the hospital.

You facepalmed. Gosh, you’re such a whore.

You heard shuffling behind you, followed by the low muttering of familiar voices. You didn’t need to look to know that Jung-bae and Dae-ho were there. It seemed the rest of your group had followed you into the crowd, though you weren’t sure about Young-il or Gi-hun.

“Are you okay?” Gi-hun’s voice reached you from behind, but it didn’t seem directed at you.

There was a moment of silence before Young-il replied, “Yeah…”

His voice was calm but carried a faint edge.

You didn’t turn to look, keeping your focus ahead. That’s when you felt a presence beside you. A quick glance out of the corner of your eye revealed the adorable Jun-hee standing there. You looped your arm gently through hers. She turned her head to you and smiled.

The square-masked guard’s voice cut through the murmurs. “This time, the vote will begin with player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote.”

You stayed focused on the front, though the sound of movement behind you did not go unnoticed. A presence brushed past you. You glanced sideways and saw Young-il. He was already looking at you, his expression unreadable. He gave you a slight nod before continuing toward the voting counter.

You weren’t sure what his nod meant, but you feigned indifference and turned your attention back to the process. At the counter, Young-il pressed the X button, the deep ping echoing in the room. The tally on the TV screen updated immediately. He removed his O patch, replacing it with the red X patch, then walked to the X zone. His eyes immediately found yours.

Caught off guard, you quickly looked away and focused on the ongoing voting. Player 006 was next, voting for X as well. Then came player 007’s turn – the son from the mother-and-son duo. He was just about to step forward when his mother stopped him.

“Yong-sik, don’t get any foolish ideas,” she said. “If we put our money together, it’d be over 150 million. We’ll pay off your debt with it and use the rest to open a produce store or something. Okay?”

So his name is Yong-sik, you mused.

Yong-sik nodded wordlessly and made his way to the counter. His eyes lingered on the buttons, his expression contemplative. He glanced at the TV screen displaying the tally before finally pressing the O button.

You blinked in surprise. If you were shocked, you couldn’t imagine how his mother felt.

The voting continued, the process moving along steadily. As the numbers shifted on the screen, you began to notice the absurdity of the tie forming. Despite witnessing so much death, so many players were still willing to risk their lives for money.

Player 100 stepped up and, predictably, pressed the O button. Then it was player 120’s turn. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the buttons, before choosing O as well.

Several more players followed, each selecting O. The tally climbed to [X: 33 | O: 36] when Gi-hun suddenly pushed his way through the crowd. You watched him with wide eyes, wondering if he was about to disrupt the voting process again.

He emerged from the throng and turned to face you and the other unvoters. His voice was loud and urgent. “Everyone!”

“Are you all out of your minds?!”

Another voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding. You jolted at the sound and turned to see Young-il stepping forward from the X zone. He moved to stand in the middle of the X and O areas, his gaze sweeping over the players.

“You still want to keep going after watching all those people die?” Young-il shouted. “Who’s to say you won’t die in the next game? We have to stop. We’ll all die if we keep going! Come to your senses, and leave with that money. You’ve got to survive first, or there won’t be a next step.”

“What do you think we can do with a mere 70 million?” player 100 demanded, stepping forward from the crowd of O voters. His voice was loud, cutting through the tense silence. “I don’t know how much you owe, but for most people here, that doesn’t even cover 10% of their debt.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop yourself. Yeah, especially you with your 10 billion won debt.

“There’s no next step for us!” player 100 continued, his voice rising with each word. “That money won’t change anything!”

“Yes, he’s right!” another O voter chimed in. “With that amount of money, I won’t last long!”

Player 100 turned his attention toward the unvoters. “It was 25 million after the first game, and now it’s 76 million! After just one more game, the prize will be at least 240 million! That’s the kind of money that can actually change lives!”

A petite woman (player 095) suddenly spoke up, her voice trembling. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

All gazes were cast onto her. Tears streamed down her face. You recognized her from the Seven Legs Hexathlon, where she’d been on the same team as the mother and son duo and player 120.

Her body shook as sobs racked her frame. “Please. Please let me out of here. I really want to go home. I don’t want to die.”

Your heart clenched at her words, her fear echoing your own. You wanted to go home too, as did many others. But with the majority voting O, it felt like there was no escape.

A heavy silence followed her cries, broken only by her quiet sobbing. Then another O voter spoke up, guilt etched into his face, though his resolve to stay was clear. “Young lady, you’re young, so you’d probably have another chance.”

He looked like he was holding back tears as well. “But I don’t.”

“Please,” player 095 begged, clasping her hands together in a desperate gesture. Her cries were gut-wrenching, and you felt your own eyes begin to sting with unshed tears.

“My family and I have no future,” the O voter continued, his voice breaking. “My business failed, and now I owe over 500 million. I’ve got to make at least half of that here if I want a real shot at a fresh start.”

“What if you die?” Young-il’s voice cut through the silence. “If you die here, your family won’t even get your body. Then it’d be the end for you and your family!”

The O voter stared at him, his expression shifting as the weight of his words began to sink in. He cast their gaze downward, silent, as Young-il pressed further. “Don’t you see?”

“Don’t get fucking scared!”

The sudden outburst turned every head. Player 226 – another greedy player akin to player 100 – stepped forward. He continued, “Ddakji, Red Light, Green Light, Spinning Top! It’s not like the games are that difficult.”

He pointed at the TV screen. “Look. There are still 258 players. Way more than half of us survived! We’ve made it this far, so let’s do this one more time!”

Player 100 joined in. “You make such a good point, young man. That’s right! We’ve all played the games well and are still standing! Now, let’s play one more game! Just one more, and that’s it! Let’s play just one more game!”

“Yeah, let’s play one more game!” Player 226 shouted.

“One more game!” Player 100 began to chant.

The phrase spread quickly, the dormitory booming with voices as a majority of players picked up the chant. The sheer volume of it made your chest tighten. You hung your head low, the reality of the situation hitting you hard. This voting session was going to end with O as the majority. The thought frustrated you.

Unbeknownst to you, Young-il glanced in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Ten minutes had passed, and the voting process was still ongoing. You had tuned out the numbers being called, lost in your thoughts, when a slight shuffling nearby snapped you out of your trance. A presence settled beside you, and you turned your head to see a man who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. The number on his chest read 299. Behind him stood two other male players, and it was clear from their demeanor that the three of them were close.

What caught you off guard was that player 299 was already staring at you. As your eyes met, he smiled and spoke up, “Hi there. I’m Lee Min-jae.”

Blinking in perplexity, you hesitated before introducing yourself. His grin widened. “I want to say nice to meet you, but this isn’t exactly the perfect place for it, is it?”

You nodded blankly, unsure of what to say. He continued without missing a beat. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d be okay hanging out with me later. After this vote.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Hang out?”

“Yeah, with me and my friends,” he gestured briefly to the two men behind him. “I noticed you always hang out with the previous winner and his group. But if you don’t mind, I was hoping you could leave them for this evening and spend some time with us instead.”

You averted your gaze, feeling a little uncomfortable with the sudden invitation.

“Umm, I’m not sure yet,” you replied cautiously.

Min-jae didn’t seem deterred. “Come on. It’ll be fun. We’ll take care of you, promise.”

His friends chimed in as well. One of them, a tall man with number 277, added, “Yeah, it’ll be good to relax a little. Everyone’s so tense here.”

The other, player 304, nodded in agreement. “Exactly. We’ve got to find small ways to keep ourselves sane in this place.”

You noticed from the corner of your eye that Jun-hee was subtly observing the interaction, her gaze shifting between you and the trio. Her quiet presence gave you a strange sense of reassurance.

Feeling cornered but not wanting to be rude, you deflected with a polite smile. “I’ll see if I have time later. Things are a bit hectic right now.”

That response seemed to satisfy Min-jae, who nodded with an easygoing grin. “Fair enough. Just let me know if you’re up for it.”

With that, he stepped back, rejoining his friends. The three of them exchanged a few words among themselves before turning their attention back to the voting process. You let out a small sigh of relief, grateful that the conversation had ended for now.

Thirty minutes passed, and the final vote from Gi-hun echoed through the room with a deep ping. The TV screen updated with the final tally: [X: 117 | O: 141].

It was a complete defeat for your side.

The square-masked guard’s voice broke through the noise. “The results are 141 for O and 117 for X. Based on the majority vote, we will proceed to the third game tomorrow. Thank you.”

The players began to disperse. In the X zone, you stood beside Jun-hee, with Dae-ho on her other side. In front of you was Young-il, his posture tense. Gi-hun remained by the voting counter, frozen in place, his disheartened expression making it clear he hadn’t expected such a defeat.

Your frustration simmered beneath the surface. The vote itself had been crushing, but what stung even more was Jung-bae’s unexpected decision to vote for O. You’d thought everyone in your group had agreed to leave this time, yet there he was, standing in the O zone. It felt like a betrayal.

Letting out a weary sigh, you turned and walked away, heading for your bed. The dormitory felt suffocating, and all you wanted was a moment to collect yourself.

NEXT : Chapter 08

PREV : Chapter 06

Story Masterlist

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[loverboysturn]

✮⋆˙ newboy!matt and popular!reader have their first kiss !

read all newboy!matt writings here & find everything else here

note: this is obviously further down the timeline of anything else i have written for these two but i wanted to write something cute for them because everything else so far has been a lil angsty! after this the angst will continue tho..

for weeks now, you and matt had been spending more and more time together—hanging out after school most days, often spending time at his place with his brothers whilst you watched the three of them bicker, you’d take long drives around town, with no actual destination in mind, just the quiet hum of the car and the occasional glance between you. sometimes, you’d even sit in silence, both reading your books, each lost in them but still in the same space, just enjoying the presence of one another.

since you met him, there had always been something intense between you from the start, something neither of you had ever addressed. the lingering glances, the way it felt like the rest of the world was on pause when you were with him. you hadn’t said anything about your feelings for him, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, afraid of the rejection because you know that would break you now, but you felt it, the pull towards him, you just prayed he felt the same.

tonight was no different, you were sitting on the floor of his bedroom, flipping through one of his books you’d grabbed off the shelf. matt was sat on the bed, his elbows rested on his knees, watching you as you read, his brow furrowed.

“you know” you say, not looking up at him. “i was thinking..you still haven’t told me what happened at your old school.”

matt winces, not because you asking him the question bothered him, but because he didn’t want to get into it all with you. not just yet.

“it got me to be transferred to your school, that’s all that should matter” he says, his voice casual, trying to play it down. “it’s not a big deal.”

you glance up at him then, a smirk forming on your lips. “yeah, sure. because people just get transferred to a new school for ‘no big deal’”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back slightly. “yeah, well i did.”

you close the book with a snap and set it down beside you, you were unconvinced. “i don’t buy it, pretty boy” you say, voice turning playful, almost flirty. “you have this whole mysterious tough guy act going on, and just give me a little time, and i’m gonna figure you out.”

“oh, are you now? what’s your plan of action then pretty girl?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

you smirk, slowly standing up. “i just want to see if all those rumors about you are all talk.”

he straightens himself up, catching the playful look in your eyes. “you sure you want to do that?”

you don’t hesitate, taking a step toward him, nudging his arm lightly. “come on tough guy, show me what you got.”

before he can react, you push him, gently but just hard enough for him to fall back on the bed. he laughs, not surprised, but impressed by your sudden act of confidence. the sound of his laugh sends a flutter through your chest, making your heart skip a beat.

“oh, it is so on now” he says, grinning as he moves quickly towards you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down onto the floor with him.

you let out a yelp, laughing, but quickly managing to squirm out of his grip, moving so you’re now on top of him straddling his chest, hands placed softly on his shoulders, pinning him down.

for a moment, you’re both frozen in place, completely caught in how the level of intensity in the room had switched, there was a feeling of something else, something neither of you had acknowledged yet.

you catch your breath as you instinctively lean in, your fingers curling against his t shirt, your eyes searching his face, your lips hovering just inches away from his, and you could feel your chest rise and fall quicker than usual. the playful energy between you had faded, leaving only unspoken tension that had been brewing for weeks.

matt couldn’t help it, he wasn’t sure who moved first, but before his mind could even catch up to his body, he was pulling you closer, lips crashing against yours. the kiss started slow, hesitant at first, like neither of you wanted the moment to end, it was soft, your lips brushing together in a way that felt more like an invitation than an action. as the world around you completely faded, the kiss deepened, growing more desperate, as if you had both been waiting for this for a long time, and now that it had finally come, neither of you wanted to let go.

your hands find their way into his hair, tugging him closer. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, and he pulled you in tighter, deepening the kiss so it was slow and heavy. his hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing it lightly.

then, suddenly, the door swings open.

chris walks in abruptly, “matt, have you see—“ his voice cut off as he takes in the two of you, and he pauses, blinking in disbelief. “well, well…”

before matt could even react, chris was already calling down the hall. “nick! get in here, you gotta see this!”

[fawnsflowerbed]

♡ It's The Most Wonderful Time-out! ♡

A/N: is this late? 100% but it's time for some CHRISTMAS HYBRID TIMEEEEE!!! A HUGE thank you for the patience from my amazing sunshine anon for this commission <3 Personally I think the title is hilarious, do- do you get it- the most wonderful time of the year- plz laugh-

Warnings/content: 2nd person (you/yours), fem pup hybrid reader, puppy's first Christmas! Grumpy ol' man Vendetta Leon, Leon is referred to as daddy! Reader in time-out, visiting the hybrid park, angst and fluff, mentions and descriptions of gore, all gets resolved in the end!

Word count: 7,430 approx.

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December 23rd

Time out. Oof, those words. They were enough to take the swing right out of your tail. 

This definitely wasn’t your fault. On the scale of 1-10 you’re like, a -5 when it comes to being in trouble. Totally. It wasn’t your fault it had rained, or your fault you wanted to jump in the the new layer of snow and got all wet and muddy, the only part that might have potentially, potentially been on you was tracking said mud and sleet through the living room. The living room rug to be exact. The rather expensive, difficult to clean because daddy sometimes ‘truly can’t be fu- bothered’ rug. That was the one rule; he could deal with mess on the floorboards, the tiles, but not the carpet. The stains were just too hard to get out.

Leon could handle dirt and grime absolutely, he’d take it over guts and gore any day of the week, public holidays and Christmas included. But coming home from work after a long day, hands stinking of gunpowder and grease, only to find muddy streaks and pawprints all over the rug was his last straw. The coffee machine in the office had been broken, his magazine clip had taken three different attempts to click into place despite the million times he’d done it before, and the armoury’s practice range had been down for maintenance. This was just the gasoline flavoured icing on his flambe flaming shit excuse for cake. 

Woosh. Fire. 

So, there you were. Plopped back into your pen, favourite squeaky toy just out of reach sat beside Leon’s chair as he scrolled through whatever’s on his phone. Teddy was right there, all worn out fluff and stringy neck ribbon, you were being taunted! This was torture, punishment of 

the worst degree. The only thing that would make it even more awful was going to bed without a kiss goodnight. But even Leon wasn’t that cruel.

Don’t get it twisted, he was feeling guilty about this too. The face you made when he walked through the door told him plenty. Big, round eyes, head bowed and tail anxiously thumping. You knew you’d gotten carried away. But you also knew better. And it’d been so long since he actually disciplined you. This was long overdue, half chewed toys left sopping wet in the bath after tub time, weeks of chased squirrels and rabbits, staying up way past your set bedtime. This was what really sealed the deal though. So, you do the time, you do the crime.

Even now he could feel your eyes boring into the back of his head, like two teary, glossy lasers set to melt his old hardened heart. Every half-hearted thump of your fluffy tail, every scuttle of your nails against the floorboards as you got comfortable, every tiny whimper you seemed hesitant to let out. Not to mention your poor attempts at being ‘completely and totally cool’ with your timeout since he often caught you staring up at him through the bars, eyes following each swipe of his fingers over his phone screen. And when he craned his neck to check on you, you were swiftly looking in the opposite direction, swearing you weren’t just tracking each of his movements. How couldn’t you though? You were obsessed with your owner, Leon was your daddy at the end of the day no matter how many play pens or crates he had to put you in so you’d behave.

 His poor princess. You were killing him, really. He’d survived well over 15 years of bioterrorism just to die at the hands of his pup-hybrid’s big wet pathetic gaze. Could flood a village with the amount of tears you shed a week, but he loves you and that tender heart of yours.

The real question was how much longer could either of you take? Leon knew it was a ‘you do the crime, you do the time’ type of deal, but was this truly teaching you anything other than how to master your pouty bottom lip? You’re his favourite fluffball, fuzzed up and huffy, chuffing and rolling over onto your back like you’re ready to play dead if it gets you out. 

And honestly? He was caving. He was only a man after all.

You’d softened him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Three years ago he’d have scoffed at the thought of even owning a hybrid, let alone being this attached. But now you were glued to his side. Now he just felt like an old man, worn and tired, your sunshiney attitude and warmth had thawed through him like no heater had. He’d been frostbitten before meeting you, whether he’d known it or not.

He couldn’t bear it. Yeah, time was up.

So his heavy footsteps muffled through socks padded across the floorboards to you, although you tried to act like you didn’t care (and failed miserably). It was pretty obvious how much this mattered to you, because your tail was whipping something fierce, so hard it had your hips wiggling. 

“C’mon, darlin’. Think you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Those big eyes pierced his very being and soul as you gazed up at him from behind your lashes, ears all floppy and face streaked with past tear tracks. God, you’d been crying over this too? Might as well just rip his heart from his chest and stomp on it. 

Even as he turned around and sat back down on the couch, looking over to you expectantly, you seemed to hesitate at first. Glancing at the spot where the rug had once sat in the centre of the living room, right in front of the coffee table, with guilty furrowed brows. Then it was back to looking at Leon, back to melting him with those heartbreaking watery eyes.

“Oh, my sweet puppy.” He couldn’t help but croon as you made guilty little steps over to him, every tap of your feet filled with shame, tail swaying with embarrassment. You were a walking heap of emotions, and he was ready to scoop you up and put you back together. “Here she comes, there we go. Tough day for our girl.”

You’d missed it, oh how you’d missed it. At your heart you truly were just a puppy, in need of the loving praise and sweet words that only he could provide. You weren’t the mushiest pup in the litter, but there was nothing like a good hug from your daddy. That much was clear from the way you melted into Leon’s body as soon as you were sat in his lap, your tail thumping delightfully against his knees while you burrowed into him. Paws kneading his shirt so you nestled into him just right.

“I know it was rough, honey. M’ sorry. But sometimes daddy has to discipline you, y’know?” the thick pad of his thumb encased your chin just enough to tilt your gaze upwards, his hand sliding over the curve of your face so he could wipe your tears away. “And it hurt, didn’t it?” “Yeah..” “So next time you think about stepping on the rug with muddy feet, you’ll remember how much we both hated this, and you won’t do it, isn’t that right?” “,,Yeah.”

“That’s right, baby. My poor girl.” That last statement came out as a small sigh, rubbing the soft fuzz of your floppy ears tenderly between his fingers. Even now as he gave you a talking down your tail never stopped thumping against his leg. 

No matter what, you loved him. That must’ve been why they called it puppy love. And it made his heart ache something fierce. You were too good.

Leon felt like the worst daddy in the world sometimes, he wasn’t gonna even try to lie about that. Sometimes he scratched behind your ears too hard, or you didn’t understand one of his jokes and ended up getting pouty and upset, sometimes he didn’t throw the ball right or pick out the right snacks. But all of that was nothing compared to the biggest issue.

His intoxicated escapades were at the very top of that list. 

Raids of the fridge and mumbling to himself, slumping his jacket off only to pass out on the edge of his bed. Leon knew you didn’t like when he got drunk, it was probably what hurt him the most about all of it. Not the gunshots echoing through his skull when his shot glass hit the table, or the recoil of a pistol wracking his shoulder when he ran into a wall too hard. 

No, it was the look on your face.

How you seemed to curl yourself back into your pen, watching with a lowered head and a hesitant gaze, tail somewhat tucked. The foggy memory of the face you pulled when he was too rough petting you or spoke too loud while sloshed. That’s what ached, what truly stung like a bitch. 

He was supposed to be the one protecting you, caring for you, and because of his own problems now you’d seen a side of him he never wanted you to. He’d made your hands awaken to the crack of eggshells beneath them when you stepped towards him, you were familiar with the shell’s powdering like that of bullet sulfur, and inner yolk gold as the streaks in his hair back then. Knew of the blood that sometimes hung in the middle of it all, and in the worst scenario the curling of bones left over. 

But still at the end of the night, drifting between a muddled haze of asleep and awake, he’d hear you make your way slowly towards his bed, the mattress dipping when you climbed up and curled up at the bottom of the duvet. Because, despite it all, you wanted to be close to him.

 Because, despite it all, he was your person. So he dumped what he could of the remaining bottles, stashed a few shitty cans for safe keeping in case things got too hard, and stopped being a regular at Jerry’s bar. 

He was doing it for you, maybe only for you.

Now he had you sat in his lap, buried in his shoulder and curling in as small as possible. Trying to become one with the skin of his arms and fabric of his shirt. You wanted to crawl up under his jacket and be carried as one with Leon, you’d do it if you could. 

He had to do something.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” Oh, that voice. Despite the icy weather outside, despite the cold that hung in his chest from time to time, his tone always tried to be warm with you. Soft. like those mutts learning to gentle their snarls and unclench their teeth, to stop growling. He was so used to the sneering, the sarcasm, snapping when someone got too close or said the wrong thing to him. But you were so fluffy, so fuzzy to the world, so unaware and loving. So he had to wear a muzzle, and he learned how to adjust.

Why? Because he couldn’t be a violent dog if he had his very own puppy. “I dunno..”

A lopsided smile spread across his cheeks at the look on your face, chin tilted and tail squirming as you look to him. There’s still the matter of that guilt still hanging in your face, stray strands like an unruly mop of hair.

“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna squeeze ya.” While you were still processing Leon’s comforting words and the lull of his voice, he was quick to gather you in his arms and press you tight to his chest. Immediately you were bathed in the scent of his shirt, the natural smell and comfort of his body. A warm blanket of safety had been draped over your blankets in the form of his presence. He squeezed your body nice and close until you squeaked out a yapped laugh, the fluff of your ear squished against his stubbled cheek.

“Oooo, good squeeze. Get all those nasty feelings outta you.”

“Daddyyyy, you’re smooshing me!” These were the moments he really cherished, ones where your tail swung and you squirmed in his arms with that smile of yours.

“Awww, well that’s how you know that it’s a real good squeeze,” His voice waved every time he swayed you slightly from side to side, bringing bubbly giggles from your throat that drifted up into the air and popped right at his heart. “It’s like juicin’ an orange, gotta shake and twist you till you’re all better.” “I don’t wanna be juice!” You howled out playfully, throwing your head back like the dramatic little thing that you were.

“Oh you don’t huh? Then you gotta keep smiling for me baby, it's just that simple.” He pushed his cheek up against your own. God, how he loved that smile, the sound of your tail thumping across the fluff of the sleek couch. There you sat, cute as a button, curled up atop his legs and snuggled in close like the sweetest, softest stuffed animal. “Tell you what, we get you one last snack, and then we’ll tuck you in, and tomorrow we’ll go into town. Catch everything before it all closes up.” 

You were already half asleep in his arms by the time he’d finished talking.

December 24th

Planning the day out was the easy part, executing it was hard. Not only because Christmas was right around the corner which came with its own chaos, but because you were- well, you. Overly loving, over committed, overly loyal and lovely you. Leon swore you must’ve been the cutest looking leech or tick in a past life.

You insisted on putting together an outfit that yes consisted of your favourite bows and daddy’s most comfiest shirt that smelled like him. But even his ‘I’ve worn the same blue shirt for 3 years’ ass could tell when things didn’t coordinate together. So he did the gentlemanly and not-wanting-you-to-look-like-a-disaster-oustide-ly thing and helped you into some cute fleecy stockings, complete with a soft sweater and your favourite skirt. Gloves of some sort were a must, you had a thing for pawing at whatever you could get your hands on no matter how cold it was, and you were in your fuzziest boots. Adorable. Like a Christmasy puffball, a fluffy ornament. All you needed was a pair of angel wings and a halo and you’d be ready for the top of the tree. 

“Look at her, look at that posture and stance. Look at that trot. That’s a well trained leash dog right there.” A smirk tugged at Leon’s lips as he watched you pad in step with him, the lacy trim of your skirt swaying whenever your foot met the sidewalk. This was the very same puppy who sat staring at him from her crate with the most pitiful eyes yesterday, rolling over onto your back like you might die from lack of attention. And now you were practically skipping, a bounce to your tail with every step.

You were lucky enough to live in a small enough part of the city. Not too urban, but definitely not rural. An outskirt area that was a nice walk away from the nearest hybrid park, long enough to get you warmed up for the real fun. And even after Leon had you off the leash you were staying in step with him, glued to his side with the sweetest smile on your face. In fact it took a little coaxing and the presence of some other pups for you to finally run around.

Leon knew you could be sociable when you truly wanted to be, but even for such a smiley little thing sometimes you simply preferred his company to anyone else’s. You could be skittish, a bit shy, and it truly threw him off guard when that part of you poked its head out from behind the warm rays of sunlight that radiated from your very being. It was adorable, really. Watching you curl into his leg with a slightly swishing tail of fluff, giving a small wave only to burrow into him. But today you were doing well, today you chose to shake out your jitters. And yes, he wouldn’t admit it, but he was proud of you.

No matter how many times Leon brought you out here, letting you experience the wonders of a normal domestic life, it never stopped being nothing short of magical to watch you shine. You had this magnetic aura that always seemed to follow you around, people were drawn to you and that sunbeam that clung to the smile on your face. The warmth that you spread to those around you. 

You truly were his sunshine.

“Leon?”

A voice he hadn’t heard in a few weeks thanks to his time off work caught his attention, and sure enough as he looked over his shoulder there stood Ingrid Hunnigan. Bundled up in a long overcoat with a recyclable cup in her hands, steam wafting from the lid in smooth swirls through the crisp cold air. Already her glasses seemed to be fogging up again, despite so clearly being cleaned only recently. Yeah, he didn’t realise how lucky he was to have decent vision despite all the bullshit he’d been through. Glasses on top of the trauma and broken bones might’ve done him in.

“Hunnigan? The hell are you doing out here?” It wasn’t defensive or aggressive, moreso confused. Intrigued, interested. It wasn’t often he actually saw her out and about. A little silly in all honesty for him to think that, Ingrid always had some sort of plans around Christmastime. Her holiday decorations, complete with lights and glowing reindeer atop a tiled roof, were nothing to scoff at.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen the snow in person, I figured I’d go for a walk to get a feel for it.” She shrugged, hands tucked into her pockets. 

He was listening, or at least some part of him was. The other part was blurring through his peripheral vision to make out the blob of colour and wagging tail that was you balling up snow as you ducked behind a tree, playing with one of the other hybrids. If you asked anyone in his line of work, they’d say Leon is a hardass. He’s committed to his work and gets his job done, and he’s passionate about what he does whether that’s good for him or not. 

But with you? With you he was just a man. Just your owner, your person. And that was such a relief.

“How’s she doing?” Ingrid asks out of habit. Every woman in the office can’t help but ask Leon about his perfect princess. And of course he laughs, shaking his head.

“Spoiled as ever. Really enjoying my time off with her.” Much needed confirmation, he knows he’d never hear the end of it if he dared tell Hunnigan about the time out incident. Best to keep it lighthearted now. Even as her face seems to.. Falter. What was that about?

“Listen, about the Phillis report..”

And then that lightheartedness was gone. If it weren’t for the icy chill that surrounded him, Leon would’ve gone a new shade of pale in the cool winter light. 

It never used to bother him. It never phased him on the outside. But now? With you?

The Phillis report. A family with a hybrid that had been a target for a bioterrorism attack. 

A hybrid.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you smiling, the red tips of his ears pricking at your laughter, the soft crunch of snow beneath people’s feet feeling much louder now as they passed. Everyone’s footsteps were unique, every thud and crush that left a print. Evidence. Clues. Cases. Work.

A hybrid like you. Everything was muddling together into the nastiest shade of grey water freezing over into ice. He hated his job. If he could pull the pin on a grenade, jump on top of it and coat the walls of that godforsaken office in his blood and guts he would. Because that’s what they were asking from him. They were asking him to die for them. Jumping from subject to subject, he was playing jump rope and hopscotch with his morals and intrusive thoughts over one simple statement in the middle of the holidays. How the mighty so quickly fell beneath twinkling lights and atop brightly wrapped presents.

The pulse of his heart had managed to spike, thundering fast and heavy in his chest. Eyes half an inch wider, pupils shrunk.

It could’ve been you. It- “Please, don’t. I’m just- I’m trying to not think about all of that. Not with her here.” It came out a bit too rushed, like his body had forced each syllable from his lips to get a point across. A safety measure, a precaution for his well being.

Leon had already spent countless nights tossing and turning over the paranoia of you being caught in his work. Now it had gotten so bad that even the mention of a hybrid being involved in a case made him sick to his stomach.

Because what if that had been you?

His throat almost closed itself off to the world as he got his words out. Ingrid’s face was creased in worry at the state of him. How had one statement so quickly pulled him through a 180? “It’s our first Christmas together, I can’t ruin that. I can’t.” Swallowing felt like choking down gravel but he managed to nonetheless. 

Hunnigan’s gaze softened, because she knew exactly how much it would ruin a perfectly good day if she were to stretch this out. She knew you were bouncing around somewhere without even looking for you amidst the snow and differently shaped animal ears and noses. You were the centre of Leon’s world, even if he didn’t know it. But those around him, those like her and Claire and Rebecca, could see what a difference you’d made. “I get it. Just.. don’t worry about rushing it, okay? It can wait until next year.”

“Yeah.. Yeah, thanks.” Automated. Robotic. Leon felt like he was backseating his own life as he responded, hearing Hunnigan’s shoes click as she prepared to walk back to her apartment complex. The sympathy ebbing from her expression only made him feel more sick, and yes that would’ve made him feel bad if it weren’t for him being on the brink of what was most likely a panic attack.

“Merry Christmas, Leon. Take it easy.” He couldn’t get the words out, settling for a stiff nod. Work. Work, work, work. It followed him everywhere no matter how fucking hard he tried to escape it. Think of something else, he scolded himself through the deafening heartbeat in his ears. Anything else. Think of you.

Padding your way over the snow, he watched on in an attempt to calm himself down as you bounded around the park like a bunny. Maybe a fox, the type that burrowed deep under the flurries of fresh powder with yipping laughter. All he knew was you were enjoying yourself, and that was all that mattered. That was all he focused on as his breathing steadied. With a short, still somewhat breathless whistle, your ears stood on end. Immediately your head thwipped to him, and you were merely a blur of pink and white that came scampering towards him. Yeah, that got a snort. Good. He needed to laugh more.

“There’s my girl.”

And there you were indeed, practically barrelling into his leg so he let out a hoarse ‘oof’ at the impact. Complete with a whispered “Hi daddy,’ that somehow managed to calm his heart in ways no medication or therapy could. Maybe he could start you out on service hybrid training, get you certified. Nah, you were too cuddly for that. Plus the vest would have to be pink or you just might refuse to wear it. So for now, he figured he may as well treat you.

“How about some hot cocoa, hm? You were a good girl after all, took your punishment like a champ.” Lie. Big, fat lie. If the ladies at the office ever caught word of how Leon had put you in timeout he’d be getting the most gruelling of death glares. His grave would be trampled on as they sprinted their way over to comfort you. He couldn’t really blame them, though, how could you not run someone over to pet someone as precious as you. You, currently sticking your little tongue out to catch the delicate snowflakes floating down from the sky as you approached the cafe. That’s what he had to keep reminding himself of in this moment. He did all of this for you. Trying to drown out the sinking ache in his stomach as if he’d swallowed an anvil, that son of a bitch must’ve been hidden between the bubbles of his saliva, or maybe the frost that dripped from the roof. 

So yeah, he was using you as the most sweet looking distraction right now, watching your wide eyes take in the wood grain and sleek walls of the coffee shop tucked into a corner of the park. On your best behaviour as you both stood in line until you got to the register. The metal tang in the back of his throat definitely had nothing to do with the gut weight still lingering after talking to Ingrid. Nope. Must’ve been the cold.

“Yeah, can we grab one long black and one.. Hm.” For a moment Leon caught himself rethinking his decisions. Was it really the best idea to give you something that had ‘cocoa’ in the name? You guys had yet to test how you’d react to chocolate after all. Taking the time to test and breakdown what food and beverage you could eat or simply didn’t like was a meticulous process, but better safe than sorry. “Wait, that was on our testing list..”

“Daddy?” Sorry puppy, daddy’s too busy having a small crisis over whether or not you can actually drink what he was ordering for you.“Is it- It should be safe for you to have hot cocoa, right?” “Daddy.” This time it was flatter. Unimpressed.

“I mean you haven’t had a bad reaction to anything yet despite being part puppy but, it’s technically chocolate to some degree so-

“Daddy!”

The tugging at his wrist was enough to get his attention back on you, the draw of your big dewy eyes and scrunched nose luring him in like a fish to bait.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” “Turn brain switch off.” 

Sometimes he thought you were pretending to be as curious and innocent as you are, because you so easily sensed when he was anxious or worried. Like an instinct. Sure, he loved you to bits, but you weren’t the brightest bulb in the- light store? Batch? He’d come up with a better analogy later. Either way, the point stood. And yet you always did that little head tilt when something seemed off. That bulb flickering to life.

“Right, puppy. Daddy’s turning the overthinking switch off.” Leon reassured as best as he could. And it seemed to satisfy. “Good daddy.”

He couldn’t help but snort again at that. “Thanks, baby.” Being praised for his minute efforts in managing his thoughts by his very own puppy hybrid. By the time you hit the register he was still smiling despite the storm in his head. “One long black and a hot cocoa, please.” 

But oh, how quickly it faded into thunder clouds. Even as he gave the barista his name for the order and walked over to wait for your drinks, it lurked over him. A sickening thickness in his throat, like tar tobacco and nicotine had clogged his windpipe. He was on auto pilot when he collected the recyclable cups and placed one of them into your eager hands, not recognising his own voice as he warned you about it being hot.

Leon was stuck between reality and dissociation, his feet leading both of you on the path back home that you’d taken enough times to have memorised. And even as you blew on the surface of your cocoa through the spout of the cup’s lid, you could see it in his eyes. That distant look. Deflated, the same as when you chewed on your favourite squeaky toy too hard and it popped.

“Daddy? You’re all droopy.”

Your voice was high and puzzled, all floppy ears and arched brows in confusion. Did he not like the park? You’d had a wonderful time making snow angels and bounding through the white powder like sweet icing sugar atop a winter cake. Maybe daddies just didn’t do parks well, like how you didn’t do the vet too well.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Daddy’s just thinking about things.” It had him staring out so far his eyes hit the end of the sidewalk, through the ice and snow to the cement. One hand held your leash, the other swiping past his lips. Hoping to wipe away the residue of his frown. 

It didn’t work. “But the switch..” Oh, don’t give him that tone. So heartbroken, so worried. It broke him.

“I know, I know the switch honey.” Already he was rubbing over the crease between his brows. This conversation couldn’t happen, not here and not now. “But sometimes- sometimes it’s not that simple, you know? Sometimes the switch doesn’t work.”

You supposed that made sense. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder. And pry, just a smidge. You could be a little pushy and shovey, whether you meant it or not. “Well, whatcha thinking about?”

What wasn’t he thinking about was the real question. It was all blurring together.

He simply shook his head. Made the bangs of his hair sway when he did. “Don’t worry about it, pup. It’s a conversation for another time.”

Well, that didn’t seem right to you. Usually Leon was so open with his feelings towards you, so you couldn’t help but nudge him. This time not with your nose or paw, but with your words. “But..”

And then his voice was lighter, as if he’d dropped the weight he’d been carrying over to one shoulder. Giving the illusion that things were better, that things were normal. But that shoulder still slumped. “Hey, weren’t you telling me something about Jill’s dog Carlos showing up on his own today? What was that about?” 

It still dragged.

At first you were very willing to tell him, the very concept of a hybrid on their own both bewildered, confused and excited you. Carlos was a big shaggy furred fella, he always played fair and shared the good treats Jill handed out.

But you knew this tactic. It was the same as when you’d ask him questions and instead of giving you an answer he’d pick up the nearest squeaky toy and suddenly you were playing fetch instead of talking. This time you were all the wiser.

“You’re trying to distract me! I don’t get it, when people say certain things you go stiff and wonky.” You couldn’t help but frown up at him. It didn’t feel fair, not knowing these things about him. A whole year together and yet sometimes he looked more like a stranger, dodging your questions and petting your ears so you’d move on. But you weren’t expecting him to furrow his eyebrows and sigh low in his chest, the way his forehead creased and nose flared. It was the same look you got before time out, only this one seemed more defensive than the last. 

“Not now, sweetheart. Please.” Leon’s tone was flat, no room for argument no matter how much your wriggled and squeezed your body between the cracks. Your tail’s wag deflated, slowing to nothing more than a slight sway. The snow felt a little colder after that.

December 30th

Christmas had been nothing short of a success in the Kennedy household, with Leon’s living room being covered in scattered wrapping paper and a whole new variety of toys in pastel colours. He was delighted. This may have been one of the few times he actually enjoyed a holiday rather than loathing it. Maybe it was because you were there, so he wasn’t spending it alone like he usually did. The way you’d spun in circles and yapped happily about it being Christmas morning.

It had been your first real Christmas ever. Your first Christmas not spent in a cage, where you got toys and ate warm meals with the man you loved, with Claire and Becca and Chris and Jill coming over for lunch under the fluorescent glow of the Christmas lights you’d insisted Leon put up. You’d sat by the tree unwrapping gifts with the fastest wagging tail Leon had ever seen, ears perked to attention and eyes wide and sparkling. He was glad, honoured really, to witness this moment of pure unbridled joy for you.

The two of you spent most if not all of Boxing Day lazing around the house in your pajamas, cuddling by the fireplace and bundling under blankets for more than a few naps. Lazy days, oh how you both loved them. Soon it was the 26th, then the 27th,so on and so on. 

Now, the christmas paper had been collected, the tree’s decorations were slowly taken down in day by day intervals, and you sat politely by the glass door to the backyard watching the snow. Leon figured if there was ever a time to truly explain to you the truth behind his career, it was likely now. A tough conversation to have, but one that needed to happen. He just couldn’t leave you in the dark like this, not any longer. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” “Hm?”

There it was. That innocent lilt, the curve of your neck as you craned to look at him. You were something too pure to be sitting on the floor of his home. You deserved mattress upon mattress like the princess and the pea, only he wouldn’t be an idiot like the ones in that book. Leon knew better than to leave under the bed unattended in case there were coyotes trying to nip at his sweet girl’s toes and tail.

Softening, that’s what he was doing. Cracking. This wasn’t going to end well and he knew it. “Y’know how daddy doesn’t like to talk about work?”

Uh oh, now you knew it was time for a serious talk. Not like when you dirtied the rug, this time you weren’t in trouble. Still you looked at him so gently, with such trust while that mountain of fluffy fur behind you swished. Because if it was serious, it was important. “Yeah.”

Leon patted the spot on the couch beside him, complete with a pretty pink bone print blanket for you to settle on, to which you trotted yourself over as dainty as could be. Hopping up next to him, a tail curled around your back. Getting yourself cozy under his arm with your head nestled right next to his chest. Listening to the steady thrum of his heart as his pulse picked up. Doing so much, yet so little, and it all comforted him.

 It was starting to sink in. He was telling you. He was opening the casket, dragging the corpse of his past through the dirt to pose for a real, living person. How was he supposed to break this to you? How did you even word his job without saying ‘I might die one day’?

“Well, that’s cause what I do is pretty dangerous, puppy. I don’t want to worry you with all the stuff I have to do.” The violence, the bloodshed, the screaming. Flashes of red that haunted his dreams, the ones you’d nudge at his face over until he’d wake up because you heard him muttering in his sleep.

“Why?” You were so oblivious to his little inner world, the one he made sure to hide from you. The one filled with guilt and shame. He wanted to keep it that way, but what choice did he have? How could he keep you safe if you had no idea what you were being kept safe from? You should be worried about what colour skirt to wear, or if your collar matches your outfit, not this bullshit. 

“Because it’s just better for you to sit and wait for me to get home at the end of the day, baby.” It was better for you to expect him home every day. 

It was better for both of you if you just always thought he was coming home.

 It made his heart break so hard his ribs snapped thinking about you sitting by the big bay window, tail flicking and throat weeping whimpers if he didn’t show up for a few days. Then weeks. Then eventually someone would have to take you in, pack up all your toys. They’d find the list he kept stashed on the top of the fridge just in case; instructing anyone who found you on just how you liked your food and which stories to whisper in your ear at night when the thunder got too loud. 

You’d never go willingly. Someone would have to leash you and tug you out the door to their car. You’d cry. You’d cry so hard your throat would die out hoarse. It would probably be Claire or Chris or Becca picking you up, he’d have to hope. The thought of some stranger from the DSO taking you from his home, your home, the home you shared together, had him swallowing down a lump. He knew you’d never recover from it. It would shatter you, after sitting in a kennel alone for so long and finally crawling out of your shell, just to lose the person you so clearly loved more than anyone else. Fuck, Leon could feel his eyes watering.

But he couldn’t do that to you. He just couldn’t. It would be the cruelest thing in the world for him to abandon you without any choice in the matter. If he were a stronger man he’d have retired by now. But he wasn’t stronger. He had no backbone when it came to his job, the government, the United States as a whole. Some fucking hero. He was more like a lapdog, breaking his neck for a board of people who didn’t give a shit about him. Taking the scraps he was offered.

“Daddy, you’re crying..” Your sad voice pulled him back into reality, where you were now taking those soft hands of yours to wipe away his tears. Wet streaks that lined the creases forming in his scarred over skin. He was getting too old for this. Too old to be bottling up these feelings for days on end. Wearing himself down for the sake of denying what he felt.

“Fuck, sorry sweetheart. It’s just.. It’s my job to keep you safe. But it’s also my job to keep everyone else safe, too. And your daddy’s been through everything, honey. Zombies, parasites, bioterrorism, war, the whole five yards. I’ve had so many people turn their backs on me or- or look to me for help for so long that it drives me crazy to even think of you worrying about me not coming home.”

How long had it been since he’d cried? Really cried? How much more could a man like Leon take? Sure he was strong, he had to be. Built up from broken beginnings on bloodied glass, shitty past relationships and world-ending catastrophes. But he was only human for Christ’s sake.

And maybe he was finally starting to sober up to that realization.

“I always think you’ll come home..”

Of course you did. Of course you, this sweet angel of a puppy girl, looked up at him with those watery eyes filled with confidence in such a statement. As if you loved him so much it almost poured from your lash line in heart shaped droplets. You had such hope despite where he’d adopted you from. Had he done that? It was odd to think about. How someone as shitty as him (in his perspective at least) had gotten you to blossom and bloom into the sweet thing you were today.

“Yeah, why’s that honey?”

“Cause you’re Leon, and Leon is the strongest person I know.”

The weight of your head now resting against his shoulder was like an anchor that stopped Leon from washing out on the beach of his despairs. He wasn’t left to drift off into oblivion, to drown in his sorrows and regrets. He had you. You had him. A hand came out to instinctively pet over the warm fuzz of your floppy ears, and he seeked out the comfort that came with your presence.

It was comforting, the quiet. Not tense or awkward. Like the waves of the ocean sloshing to a slow and serene sway after a tsunami or a tidal wave. To know you saw him as your hero, that you held him in such high regard. It made every grey hair and creased feature feel worth it. Everything he did, he did it for you. And for once it didn’t feel like a pressure, or a burden, it was a responsibility he was glad to shoulder. Like he were your knight in shining armour.

“Why’d you never tell me you went through all that stuff?” Even now as you spoke your voice was low and soft, sweet to his ears like a drizzling of warm honey right to his cochlea. Those homemade remedies for aches and pains.

Even now he found himself chuckling to get through this, an ache in his chest with each exhale. Someone had set a cinderblock on his chest, and you were mustering up all the strength in those little paws to ease it off. “And ruin what we’ve got going on right here? I wasn’t gonna risk that.”

Apparently that was the wrong answer, because now you were perked upright with the slightest of pouts perched atop your lips. Disagreement etched into your features. “S’ not ruined, dummy. It just means I get to say I love you a whole lot more.”

Now it was his turn to snort sincerely. Always so stubborn. Adorable, sweet, but stubborn. "Oh, is that so?”

“Mhm. So when things are yuck it’ll be easier to remember that I love you. Cause I’ll say it as many times as I gotta until you believe it.”

You ruined him, and not in a bad way. You took the world’s smallest pick to the world’s coldest iceberg and chipped back his layers sliver by sliver. Sculpting him back into what he once was before the world dumped cold water onto him and froze over the softness that lay within. 

Leon’s hand stroked aimlessly over the curve of your head, tracing over the edges of your hair gently. Even with the scrapes on his knuckles and bruises on his palms he always made sure to be soft with you. His voice, half cracked and brimming with affection, was quiet as he whispered back. “I love you too, puppy. You’re my best girl.”

Firewood crackled in a low, jagged white noise in the background, smoothing into a quiet simmer that cast a warm orange glow against the walls. Bathing the room in heat, one that you both let wrap around you like a safety blanket. You found haven in each other, because no matter what, you always came back to one another. Leon was your owner, after all. It was his job to ensure you had the best life, with all the comforts you could ask for and then some.

And he planned to do just that. Whether it meant dumping out all the alcohol in his house or not.

“So.. Do I get more presents?” It’s a teeny voice against his shirt that had him tilting his chin down to look at you.

“Well no puppy, the next holiday is New Years Eve. We don’t give presents then, only Christmas.” A pretty straight forward explanation, or at least that’s what it felt like to him.

“Why?” Another chirp.

His brow arched. “Cause Christmas is only once a year, sweetie.”

“Why?” And another. “Okay, we’re not starting this.”

God, just wait until you find out about birthdays. Then he’s done for.

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[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

6115 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴀʀᴍ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛꜰᴜʟ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴᴅ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

JAYCE

The dim glow of the workshop’s lanterns flickered softly, casting long shadows over the polished metal surfaces of Jayce’s creations. His hands moved with precision, the soft hum of machines and the rhythmic tapping of his tools filling the space as he focused intensely on his latest project. His mind was consumed by his work, as it often was during times of pressure, and for the moment, everything else in his world faded into the background.

Except for one thing: Y/N.

She stood at the entrance to the workshop, watching him in silence. He didn’t even notice her standing there for several moments. The light music that played softly from the small speaker on the corner of his workbench filled the space, but it only highlighted the growing distance between them.

“Jayce…” Y/N finally spoke, her voice tentative, almost hesitant. She hadn’t meant to interrupt, but the silence had stretched on for far too long.

Jayce didn’t look up from his work, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Hmm?” His response was curt, distracted.

Y/N’s heart sank. She had grown accustomed to the intensity of Jayce’s dedication to his research and inventions, but it seemed lately like there was always something pulling him away from her. She stood there, waiting for him to acknowledge her, to invite her into his world like he used to, but nothing came.

“I was thinking… maybe we could spend some time together tonight?” Y/N suggested softly, stepping a little closer to the workbench. Her voice was gentle, not wanting to push him, but wanting to feel that connection again—the one they used to share so effortlessly.

Jayce finally looked up, his eyes tired but focused. He hesitated, glancing back at the project in front of him, then back at Y/N. His expression softened for a brief moment, but then the weight of his responsibilities seemed to pull him back.

“I can’t right now,” he said, his voice quieter than before, almost apologetic. “There’s too much I need to finish. I’m close… so close to figuring it out.”

Y/N nodded, understanding the passion in his voice, but it did little to ease the ache in her chest. She had seen this before—the way Jayce would lose himself in his work, pushing everything else aside until he felt he had done enough. But this time felt different. This time, it wasn’t just his work pulling him away. It was as though he had built an invisible wall between them, one that no amount of pleading or patience could break.

“I get it, Jayce,” Y/N said, trying to keep her voice steady. “But when was the last time we actually spent time together? Just the two of us? It’s been weeks… months, even.”

Jayce looked at her, and for a moment, there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it quickly vanished, replaced by a weariness that seemed to settle deep in his bones. “I don’t have time for that right now, Y/N. I need to focus.”

Y/N felt her stomach twist, a sharp pang of hurt cutting through her. “I’m not asking for much, Jayce. Just… a little of your time. It doesn’t have to be anything big, just—”

“I said I don’t have time!” Jayce interrupted, his voice rising before he could catch himself. He immediately regretted the sharpness, but the damage was done. He saw the hurt flash across Y/N’s face, and something inside him crumbled.

Y/N stood there for a long moment, her lips pressed together tightly as she held back the tears that threatened to spill. She didn’t know what to say anymore. Jayce’s work had always been important to him, but it had never felt like it came before her. But now, in this moment, she wasn’t sure if she was even part of his world anymore. His ambition, his goals, seemed to consume him entirely.

“Fine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I get it. I’ll leave you to your work.”

She turned to walk away, but before she could make it to the door, Jayce called out her name.

“Y/N… wait.”

She paused, but didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to see the look in his eyes right now, didn’t want to see the guilt or the frustration. He had already made his choice, and it wasn’t her.

Jayce’s voice softened as he stepped toward her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just… I’m close to something big. You know how important this is to me. I can’t stop now.”

Y/N slowly turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest as if to protect herself from the weight of his words. “I know, Jayce. I know how important it is. But don’t you see? You’re pushing me away”

Jayce swallowed, the words hitting him harder than he expected. He had always prided himself on his work, but he had never meant to let it overshadow the one person who had stood by him through everything. But now, as he looked at Y/N’s hurt expression, he realized the truth: he had been so focused on proving himself, on achieving greatness, that he had forgotten to nurture the relationship that mattered the most to him.

“I’m sorry,” Jayce said softly, taking a step closer. “I don’t want to push you away. You mean everything to me.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “It doesn’t feel like it right now, Jayce.”

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Jayce reached out, gently taking her hand, his thumb brushing over her skin as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t say. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I’m just… afraid I’ll never be enough.”

Y/N’s heart twisted. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear that had driven him to bury himself in his work. She stepped forward, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

“You’re already enough,” she whispered into his ear. “But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you too, Jayce. Not just as someone who can fix the world, but as the person you are. The person I love.”

Jayce’s arms tightened around her, the weight of his regret heavy on his chest. He held her close, savouring the feeling of her warmth, but knowing that he had a long way to go to make things right.

“I promise,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us. I swear it.”

And in that moment, Jayce realized that he couldn’t afford to lose her—not for his work, not for his ambitions. Y/N had always been his anchor, and he couldn’t let go of the one person who truly understood him.

It was time to rebuild what had been broken. And he would do whatever it took to make it right.

VIKTOR

Viktor’s lab was a quiet, sterile environment, lit only by the soft glow of arcane machinery and the faint hum of the chemical reactors working in the background. The air always smelled faintly of oil and metal, a testament to the ambitious scientist's unyielding drive to push the boundaries of his experiments. Tonight, however, the atmosphere was different. Tonight, it was filled with an undercurrent of tension as Viktor prepared for his latest, most daring experiment yet.

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this,” Viktor said softly, turning to look at her with a mixture of concern and determination in his eyes. He stood tall despite the cane he leaned on, the weight of his past decisions and ailments making his movements a little slower, but still purposeful. “I can run the experiment alone. It’s too risky.”

Y/N, however, stood resolutely next to him, her hand resting gently on the table where the prototype of the new device sat. It was a marvel of engineering and alchemy, a machine designed to unlock the potential of Hextech technology in ways that had never been done before. She had always admired Viktor’s genius, his drive, and his unflinching pursuit of progress. And while she understood the dangers, she trusted him completely.

“I’m not afraid, Viktor,” she said with a small, reassuring smile. “I want to help. You’ve been working on this for so long, and I’m right here. I trust you.”

Her words seemed to settle some of the unease within Viktor, but a part of him still hesitated. He had always put progress above all else, but with Y/N by his side, it had become more difficult to keep his heart and mind from conflicting. She had become so much more than just an assistant to him, so much more than someone who helped him. She had become his partner, and the thought of risking her well-being gnawed at him in ways he wasn’t used to.

But she was persistent. Her faith in him was unwavering, and with a soft sigh, he nodded. “Alright. But you promise me, if something feels wrong, you’ll stop, yes? Don’t be reckless for my sake.”

Y/N’s smile widened. “I promise.”

The two of them worked together in synchrony. Viktor carefully adjusted the settings on the device, while Y/N followed his instructions to the letter, her focus sharp. The energy in the lab seemed to vibrate with anticipation, as though the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for the experiment to begin.

Viktor’s fingers hovered over the final switch, and he glanced at Y/N one last time. “Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Viktor flipped the switch.

For a moment, everything was still. The machine hummed to life, its core glowing brightly, and streams of energy surged through the air. Viktor’s heart raced as he watched the device’s progress on the monitors, his breath caught in his chest. But then—just as quickly—something went wrong. A burst of energy erupted from the machine, more intense than he had anticipated. The surge knocked both of them backward.

Y/N lost her footing, her body tumbling toward the ground. Viktor reached out, but his cane slipped in the chaos, and he couldn’t catch her in time. The floor was cold against Y/N’s back as her head hit the hard surface with a sickening thud. The world around her spun in a blur, and a sharp pain flared across her skull.

“Miláčku!” Viktor shouted, his voice laced with panic as he rushed to her side, his cane discarded on the floor. His hands trembled as he cupped her face, his eyes frantic as he checked for any signs of serious injury. (Darling)

Y/N blinked slowly, her vision still blurry, but she tried to focus on his face. “I’m okay, Viktor,” she mumbled, her voice groggy. “Just a little dizzy… nothing serious.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, though his face was still drawn with concern. “I should have never let you do this” he whispered, more to himself than to her. His hands shook as he gently helped her sit up, his voice tight with guilt. “I put you in danger. I... I should’ve been more careful.”

“Viktor,” Y/N whispered, reaching up to place a hand over his. She could feel the tension in his fingertips, the weight of his regret. “This wasn’t your fault. I agreed to help you, remember? I knew the risks. This isn’t on you.”

But Viktor couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of responsibility he felt for her safety. She had trusted him completely, and in that moment, he realized how much he had taken for granted. His pursuit of science, his desire to change the world, had come at a price. A price that could have cost him the person he cared most about.

JAYVIK

Y/N had always admired the dynamic between Jayce and Viktor—their partnership, their unyielding dedication to their work, and the bond they shared despite their differences. She had tried to be supportive, stepping into their world of Hextech whenever she could, even though she wasn’t a scientist herself.

But tonight, everything had unraveled.

It started with a simple misunderstanding. Jayce had been pacing the workshop, his frustration palpable as he ranted about deadlines, council meetings, and the pressures of Hextech’s growing influence. Viktor, meanwhile, was hunched over his workbench, tools in hand as he adjusted some intricate device with the precision only he could manage.

Y/N had tried to help in her own way. She suggested taking a break, maybe grabbing something to eat, or just stepping away from the lab for a while. But the suggestion was met with resistance. Jayce waved her off, muttering something about needing to stay focused, while Viktor barely acknowledged her, too engrossed in his work to respond.

Feeling dismissed, Y/N’s patience snapped. “You two are going to run yourselves into the ground!” she exclaimed, her voice sharper than she intended. “You’re so obsessed with your inventions that you’re forgetting everything else—including the people who care about you.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight, and for a moment, the room fell silent.

Jayce was the first to react, his brow furrowing as he turned to face her. “We’re doing this for everyone, Y/N. For Piltover. For Zaun. You know that.”

“And you think that excuses shutting people out?” Y/N shot back, her frustration bubbling over. She turned to Viktor, who still hadn’t looked up from his work. “And you—do you even realize how much you’ve been pushing yourself? You’re not a machine, Viktor. You need rest too.”

Viktor finally looked up, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “This work isn’t about convenience, Y/N. It’s about progress. Sacrifices must be made.”

The words stung more than she expected. “Sacrifices?” she repeated, her voice faltering. “Is that all I am to you? A sacrifice?”

Jayce stepped forward, his expression softening as he reached out to her. “Y/N, that’s not what he meant—”

But Y/N pulled away, shaking her head. “I’m trying to help, but it feels like I’m just in the way. Maybe you don’t need me here at all.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Jayce’s face fell, hurt flickering in his eyes, while Viktor’s expression hardened into something unreadable.

“Miláčku…” Viktor began, his tone quieter now, almost pleading. (Darling)

But she was already backing toward the door. “I’ll leave you to your progress,” she muttered, her voice shaking as she turned and walked out of the workshop.

=

As the door clicked shut behind her, the silence in the shared apartment was suffocating. Y/N’s chest felt heavy as she retreated to the guest room, a place she rarely used but tonight felt necessary. She couldn’t face Jayce and Viktor—not after the way she’d lashed out at them.

Lying awake in the unfamiliar bed, Y/N replayed the argument over and over. She’d let her frustration get the better of her, and now all she felt was regret. Jayce and Viktor were trying their best to change the world, balancing immense pressure with their passion for Hextech. Instead of supporting them, she’d only added to their stress.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed her, though her sleep was restless and shallow.

The next morning, the faint scent of something warm and savory roused her. Y/N blinked against the soft light filtering through the curtains, her senses slowly sharpening. It smelled like… eggs? And toast? Was that coffee, too?

Curiosity outweighed her lingering guilt as she slipped out of bed and padded down the hallway toward the kitchen. Her heart clenched at the sight before her.

Jayce was at the stove, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he flipped something in a pan. Viktor stood beside him, a bit awkward with his movements but focused as he carefully poured coffee into a mug. The kitchen table was already set with plates of food—scrambled eggs, toast, and a small bowl of fruit.

“Morning,” Jayce said, glancing over his shoulder with a sheepish smile. His voice was soft, hesitant. “We, uh, made breakfast.”

Viktor turned to her as well, his golden eyes scanning her face for a reaction. “It’s not perfect,” he said, gesturing to the table, “but we wanted to… apologize. For last night.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, and she had to blink back the sudden sting of tears. “You don’t have to apologize,” she murmured, stepping closer. “I’m the one who—”

“No,” Jayce interrupted gently, turning off the stove and placing the pan on the counter. He faced her fully, his expression earnest. “You were right, Y/N. We’ve been so caught up in our work that we’ve been neglecting everything else. Including you.”

Viktor nodded, his voice quieter but just as sincere. “Your concerns weren’t unwarranted. We… forget sometimes that there’s more to life than progress and deadlines. You were only trying to help.”

Y/N felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, smiling despite herself. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t doing enough. I just worry about you two. You’re both so driven, and I don’t want you to burn out.”

Jayce approached her, his arms opening slightly in invitation. “We’ll try to do better. For you. For us.”

Without hesitation, Y/N stepped into his embrace, feeling the tension from the night before melt away. Viktor joined them after a moment, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. The three of them stood there in the warmth of the kitchen, a quiet understanding passing between them.

When they finally broke apart, Jayce gestured to the table. “Come on, before the food gets cold. Viktor even made coffee.”

Y/N chuckled, taking a seat and letting herself relax as they sat down together. The food wasn’t perfect—Jayce had overcooked the eggs slightly, and Viktor’s toast was a little burnt—but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the effort, the thought behind it.

In that moment, surrounded by the people she cared about most, Y/N realized that no argument, no misunderstanding, could break the bond they shared. Together, they’d figure out how to balance their passions with their lives. And together, they’d always find a way back to each other.

VANDER

The Last Drop was unusually quiet for a change, with the patrons gone and the dim lantern light casting a warm glow over the upstairs room. Y/N and Vander sat at the small table, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey between them. Laughter spilled from their lips as they reminisced about the past, their cheeks flushed from the alcohol they’d both indulged in.

“You’re slurring your words, big guy,” Y/N teased, pointing at Vander with a playful smirk. “Can’t handle your drink anymore?”

Vander let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head as he poured the last bit of whiskey into their glasses. “Says the one who’s giggling like a schoolgirl,” he shot back, his grin widening. “You’ve had just as much as I have.”

They clinked their glasses, the sound ringing out like a toast to their shared camaraderie. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much, her sides aching from their banter. But as the whiskey settled into their systems, the laughter turned into something lighter, more carefree.

It was Vander who suggested the tickling match, his mischievous side coming out in a way it rarely did. “Bet you can’t take me down,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a cocky grin.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, rising to the challenge. “Oh, you’re on.”

The playful scuffle started as harmless fun, with Y/N darting around Vander’s large hands, trying to tickle his sides while dodging his counterattacks. Their laughter filled the room as they stumbled around, their movements slightly clumsy from the alcohol.

But then, in one uncoordinated motion, Vander’s hand swung a little too wide, catching Y/N squarely on the nose.

The room seemed to freeze.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back as her hand flew to her face. A warm, wet sensation met her fingertips, and when she pulled her hand away, she saw the telltale red of blood.

“Oh, no,” Vander muttered, his voice low and panicked. The buzz from the whiskey evaporated in an instant, replaced by a wave of guilt and worry. “Sweetheart—”

“I’m fine,” Y/N interrupted, her voice muffled as she pinched her nose to stop the bleeding. But her words didn’t stop Vander from rushing over, his large hands hovering near her face, unsure of what to do without making things worse.

“Let me see,” he insisted, his voice steadier now but still heavy with concern.

Y/N relented, tilting her head back slightly as Vander gently cupped her face, examining her nose with a care that belied his size. “It’s just a bloody nose,” she said, offering him a small smile despite the situation. “No big deal.”

But Vander didn’t smile back. He grabbed a clean cloth from the table and carefully pressed it to her nose, his brow furrowed deeply. “No big deal? I hit you, Y/N,” he said, his voice tight. “That’s a big deal.”

“It was an accident,” Y/N said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “You didn’t mean to, Vander. We were messing around. It happens.”

“Still,” Vander muttered, his jaw clenched. “I should’ve been more careful. I could’ve really hurt you.”

The sight of him so distraught tugged at Y/N’s heart. She reached up, resting her hand on his cheek and forcing him to meet her eyes. “Hey,” she said gently, her voice steady despite the lingering sting in her nose. “I’m okay. Really. Accidents happen. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll let you pamper me for the rest of the night.”

Vander huffed a small laugh, though his eyes were still clouded with guilt. “Pamper you, huh?”

“Yup,” Y/N replied with a grin, her usual humour returning. “I expect a warm drink, a blanket, and maybe a foot rub.”

That finally earned a chuckle from Vander, though it was tinged with a hint of sadness. “You’ve got a deal,” he said, his voice soft.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they sat back down at the table. “I’m still sorry, Y/N,” he murmured. “You mean too much to me to let something like this happen.”

“I know,” Y/N said, resting her head against his chest. “But you don’t have to beat yourself up over it. I’m not mad, Vander. Just maybe… let’s save the tickle matches for when we’re sober next time.”

Vander let out a low laugh, his grip tightening around her in a protective embrace. “Deal,” he said, his voice warm and full of gratitude.

And as the night went on, the incident became just another memory to laugh about later—a reminder of how much they cared for each other, even when things got a little out of hand.

SILCO

The room was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the neon signs outside filtering through the cracked windows. Silco and Y/N stood across from each other, the tension in the air palpable. The weight of their argument pressed down on both of them—words had been thrown like daggers, each cutting deeper than the last.

"You don't understand!" Silco's voice was low, tinged with frustration, but his usual coldness was absent. He was angry, yes, but there was something else—fear, desperation—that lingered beneath his words.

Y/N’s face was flushed with anger, her voice quivering as she retorted, "I understand perfectly, Silco! You think you're the only one who’s sacrificed? The only one who’s had to make hard choices?" Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. "You’ve built this empire, but what have you really gained? Power? Control? At what cost?"

Silco’s jaw tightened, his fists trembling at his sides. The scorn in her words stung more than he cared to admit. He opened his mouth to respond, but instead, a primal instinct surged through him. He raised his hand, palm open, as if to gesture angrily, but the movement was much too sharp, too quick. It was a motion born out of years of frustration, a gesture that, in his mind, had always been a warning.

But it wasn’t the hand that struck her—his intention never was. It was the movement itself that made Y/N flinch, her body jerking back as if she expected a blow.

The sight of her flinching—of seeing the fear in her eyes—stopped Silco dead in his tracks. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. He never meant for it to go this far. He’d raised his hand out of pure instinct, a lifetime of anger and hurt flooding to the surface, but Y/N—Y/N, the one person he allowed into his world—had flinched.

Her eyes were wide, her expression one of shock, her breath catching in her throat as she looked at him. It wasn’t fear of him—he realized that in a split second—but fear of the violence he represented. It was a look he’d seen in so many others throughout his life, but never from Y/N. The thought that he had made her feel this way broke something deep within him.

"Y/N..." Silco’s voice faltered, the anger draining from him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he slowly lowered his hand, the weight of his regret crashing down on him. He hadn’t meant to scare her. He had never meant to make her feel small, weak, or vulnerable in front of him. And yet, that’s exactly what he had done.

She didn’t move, her body tense, as though still bracing herself for something worse. Her wide eyes met his, searching for an explanation that he could not provide, and that broke him even more.

"I didn’t... I didn’t mean it," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a cautious step toward her, his hands trembling as they hovered in the air, unsure of what to do, how to fix what had just been shattered. "I... I'm sorry. I’m sorry."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them felt suffocating, heavy with the realization of what he had almost done. He could see the tear that had formed in the corner of Y/N’s eye, a silent testament to the pain he had caused her.

Before he could say another word, Y/N spoke, her voice barely audible. "You scared me, Silco." Her words were simple, but they cut through him like a blade.

A broken sigh escaped him, and in that moment, all the walls he had built around himself—walls he had so carefully crafted to protect him from weakness—crumbled.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he said, his voice strained with emotion, each word feeling like it came from the very depth of his soul. "I swear to you, I never wanted to make you feel like that."

The cold exterior he had always worn—his calculated control, his ruthless demeanour—began to crack. He couldn’t stand the thought that he had made the one person who mattered to him feel this way. Y/N was more than just someone to him; she was the only person who saw past the monster he’d become. She saw the man beneath the anger, the man who was capable of love—real love, not the twisted, possessive affection he was used to.

Slowly, cautiously, Silco closed the distance between them. His hand reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against her arm, then slowly slid around her back, pulling her into him. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, sent a wave of guilt and longing through him.

Y/N didn’t pull away. Instead, she rested her head against his chest, her hands gripping the fabric of his jacket as if holding onto something solid, something that still felt like home. She didn’t speak, and neither did he. The only sound in the room was the steady beat of their hearts, somehow in sync, despite the chaos that had just unfolded.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered again, his voice hoarse. “I never want you to be afraid of me.”

Y/N's arms wrapped around him, returning the embrace, but this time there was no tension, no fear. Just the rawness of emotion, of two people who had hurt each other, but who could still find solace in each other’s presence.

“I know,” she murmured softly into his chest, the words carrying more weight than anything else. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. They simply stood there, in each other's arms, finding comfort in the stillness. Silco wasn’t sure if he could undo the hurt he’d caused, but he knew one thing for certain: he would spend every moment of the rest of his life making sure that Y/N never had to flinch again when he raised his hand.

And that, in a strange, painful way, was a promise that broke his heart and rebuilt it at the same time.

POWDER/JINX

The explosion had rocked The Last Drop, sending shockwaves through the tavern as smoke and debris filled the air. No one had been hurt, thankfully, but the mess was impossible to ignore. Y/N had been upstairs in Silco’s private office when she heard the blast, and her heart sank as she rushed downstairs to find Jinx standing in the center of the destruction, looking sheepish but almost proud of her work.

“What did you do?” Y/N’s voice was sharp, the frustration bubbling to the surface. Her eyes scanned the wreckage—the broken tables, the charred walls—and then locked onto Jinx, who was standing there with her arms crossed defensively, a nervous smile on her face.

“I didn’t mean for it to go off like that,” Jinx muttered, her eyes wide with guilt. “I just wanted to... I thought I had it right, but it... I don’t know.”

Y/N didn’t have time for explanations. She grabbed Jinx’s arm roughly, her grip firm as she pulled her away from the wreckage. “We’re going upstairs, now.”

Without another word, Y/N dragged Jinx up the stairs to Silco’s office. The tension between them was thick, and Jinx didn’t resist. It was obvious that she knew she’d messed up, but she didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t know what to say, either.

Y/N threw open the door to Silco’s office and practically shoved Jinx inside. The office was silent, the only noise being the soft hum of the air and the distant echoes of the tavern downstairs.

Silco, who had been at his desk working, looked up at the commotion. “What’s going on here?” he asked in his usual calm tone, but his eyes flickered with interest as he saw the mess Jinx had caused.

“Jinx almost blew the entire place up!” Y/N snapped, the anger in her voice still raw. She wasn’t sure if it was frustration with Jinx’s recklessness or just the overwhelming fear of what could’ve happened. Either way, she wasn’t backing down.

Jinx shrunk back from the two of them, her usual bravado slipping away. She couldn’t stand being scolded—especially by Y/N, the one person who always showed her care.

“Do you even think before you act?” Y/N’s words cut through the silence like a knife. “What were you thinking, Jinx? You could’ve hurt someone—or worse, hurt yourself!”

Jinx opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Her eyes welled up with tears, her hands trembling. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. She hadn’t meant for the explosion to be so big, hadn’t meant for it to create such a mess. But now she was being yelled at, and Y/N’s disappointment stung more than she could bear.

“I... I didn’t mean to...” Jinx whispered, but her voice was so small it barely registered.

Y/N’s frustration hadn’t dulled, but the sight of Jinx standing there, vulnerable and scared, made her pause. “You’re going to hurt someone if you don’t learn some control, Jinx. This is why I’m so worried about you. You act first and think later, and it’s dangerous.”

Jinx’s lip quivered, and she finally broke down. She didn’t want to cry, but the tears came anyway. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions. “I didn’t mean to... I just wanted to... I just wanted to do something big. Something that would... matter.”

Y/N’s heart softened, the anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. Jinx wasn’t a bad person—she was a broken one, and Y/N could see that. But the anger was still there, and it felt like there was nothing Y/N could do to fix this in a single moment.

Silco stood from his desk, his expression unreadable as he walked over to Jinx, placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. “You need to understand the consequences of your actions, Jinx. Not everything can be a game. Some things, like what you just did, are dangerous.”

Jinx nodded silently, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “I understand,” she whispered, though the words felt hollow. She didn’t know if she really understood, or if she was just trying to make them stop shouting at her.

Y/N let out a long, heavy sigh, the tension leaving her shoulders. She walked over to Jinx and placed a hand on her arm, her voice softer now. “You’re not a bad person, Jinx. But you have to be more careful. You have to think about the people around you, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

Jinx looked up at her, the tears still visible in her eyes. “I don’t wanna mess up anymore... I don’t wanna disappoint you.” Her voice cracked, the weight of the apology heavy on her heart.

Y/N’s heart ached at the words. She reached out, gently cupping Jinx’s face in her hands. “Jinx, you haven’t messed anything up. You’re not a disappointment. You’re just a kid trying to figure it all out. But you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep putting people at risk.”

Jinx sniffled, looking down at the floor, her fingers clenching and unclenching nervously. “I just wanted to do something... I just wanted to make something explode... I wanted to be... important.”

Y/N sighed, her heart aching for the girl standing before her. “You are important, Jinx. You matter. But making explosions isn’t the only way to prove that. You’ve got so much more to offer. Just... just stop before you make another mistake, okay?”

Jinx nodded slowly, her lip trembling as she wiped her eyes again. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

Y/N’s heart broke a little more as she watched Jinx retreat back to the door. She knew this wasn’t the end, that the girl would need more than just words to change her ways, but it was a start.

Jinx’s sobs echoed in the hallway as she ran from the room, retreating to her bedroom, where she could cry without anyone seeing her weakness. Y/N stood there for a moment, feeling the sharp sting of regret in her chest. Maybe she had been too harsh.

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N quietly followed after her, her footsteps soft as she approached Jinx’s room. She knocked lightly on the door, her voice quieter now. “Jinx?”

There was no response, but she could hear the soft sounds of sobbing from inside. Y/N opened the door slowly, stepping inside. Jinx was sitting on her bed, her back to the door, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Y/N sat down next to her, her voice low and gentle. “Jinx, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Jinx looked up, her red eyes filled with the hurt that she had been trying to hide. “I just... I don’t want you to be mad at me. I don’t want to be... a burden.”

Y/N pulled her into a tight hug, her hands running through Jinx’s messy hair. “You’re not a burden. I care about you, Jinx. And I just want you to be safe. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to try.”

Jinx sniffled, clinging to Y/N, her small frame trembling with the weight of her emotions. “I’ll try... I won’t do it again.”

Y/N held her closer, knowing that this wasn’t the end of the journey, but for now, it was enough. She would always be there for Jinx, no matter what explosions she caused or mistakes she made. Because, despite everything, Jinx was family. And Y/N wasn’t going anywhere.

[rekino2114]

Makima’s (and really anyone else you could see this ask working for) reaction to her finding her Male S/o sad after he was told by someone (I dunno who, you could decide) that she doesn’t truly love him, and that she’s just using him for her own gain, and that when she’s done with him, she’ll just discard him, and him believing what they told him.

Makima comforting you

Makima loved you. She knew that for sure. After all, you were the person who made her feel love and emotions. You changed her completely from an emotionless and cruel devil to.....a person, her love was the least she could give you to repay you for that.

She would gladly tell you how much she loved you every time you wanted, and she already did so very often, while cuddling, watching movies, and just when you were alone in her office. The words "I love you" just spilled naturally from her mouth whenever you were close to her because it was the pure unfiltered truth. She loved you with all of her newfound heart.

And you thought the same, you thought she loved you just like you loved her, even after telling you her true identity you still loved her, you knew you changed her, you saw her cry and smile for you, just like she said you changed her and made her a person. You loved her and you believed her.

But even you can't fully control your emotions, and so even if you didn't know it, a seed of doubt had already started to grow in your heart. Was she just using you? Manipulating you like everyone else? Maybe she was even using her powers without you realizing it. You didn't think those questions often, just when she was what makima was truly capable of, usually against someone who hurt you. In those moments, you remembered that she was still a devil, someone who could and would kill without hesitation. Sure, she basically only did it for you now. But you couldn't help but wonder if that was just her lying to you so you would stay loyal.

But you still loved her and all of the moments spent with her, those moments when you could feel the pure love coming from her words and touch, far outweighed those thoughts, so you decided to believe her and to continue loving her as you always did.

That was until a conversation you had with kishibe. You didn't know him that well, but you knew he was an incredibly strong devil hunter and that he knew of makima's identity. You two didn't talk much (mostly because makima didn't like him too much), but you had occasional conversations when she had to talk with him and brought you with her.

During one of these conversations, makima had gone away to take care of something, and you stayed with kishibe while he got drunk and started talking to you. It was more like a one-way conversation since you stayed silent because of the awkwardness but you still heard everything.

He called her a devil, a monster, and said that she was just using you for whatever plan she had now. Just like every other person in her life, he said you were nothing more than a dog for her, maybe one cuter than others, but still just someone she'll kill once she's done playing with.

You knew that it wasn't true, it couldn't have been, makima loved you, and you wanted to say that, but inside of you, the doubt grew larger. You knew that no matter how much you didn't want it to be true, there was still a possibility it was. And the mere thought destroyed you

"Is everything alright, darling?"

You looked up to see makima looking at you. Her eyes made you stutter a bit, but you still answered

"Y-yes don't worry"

She stared at you again and paused the movie you were watching

"Are you sure? You don't seem ok"

She got closer and grabbed your hand, making you flinch, which made her even more worried

"You never flinch when I touch you.....please tell me love, what's wrong?"

You avoided her gaze as a bit of sweat feel on your cheek. You were scared, and makima could see that

"Please y/n, you're my boyfriend, I love you, please tell me what's wrong"

Your silence and growing worry made her eyes widen and her grip on your hand tighten

"Was it someone? Do you need me to.....take care of someone?"

That last sentence pushed you over your limits, and you looked down and started crying, taking your hand off of makima's and putting it over your face

"Y-y/n!"

The control devil quickly went near you to hug you, but you pulled back and continued crying

"W-what's wrong y/n? Why are you crying? I-i-"

Looking at you crying and denying her help filled makima with despair. She hated this sight, but most of all, she hated how you kept pushing her hugs and attempts to help away.

".......y/n.....please....tell me"

Her voice wavered....something you had rarely seen before. You moved your hands out of the way of your face and saw her staring at you again but this time you noticed something that not even makima herself noticed. Her yellow eyes were tearing up

"...................makima?"

She immediately perked up at hearing you speak

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you.....love me"

"Of course I do, you're the most important person in my life"

".......Really?"

"....where is this coming from?"

"I......I've just been thinking"

"About what?"

"You I guess"

"Hm?"

"You told me you used to manipulate people to get what you wanted right?"

"Yes but that was before-"

"How do I know you're not doing the same with me?"

"........."

"I know you love me, you have to. I refuse to believe that you don't......but I'm scared of being controlled and blinded by my love for you........please be honest......do you love me?"

Makima wiped her tears a bit and sighed heavily

"To be brief....yes....but it's a lot more than that"

She looked at the ceiling and continued talking

"I don't think I started living as a person until I met you. You gave me a soul a heart and made me feel love, the love I feel for you is far greater than anything I could describe, it's a need, to continue living I need to love you and I want to love you, you're a wonderful and amazing man, you made a devil like me feel emotions so you have to be. I hate my previous self, and for me to never become that again, I need to love you. Y/n you made me a human, and I will always be grateful for that, I will repay you with my eternal love. I will never ever abandon you or let anyone hurt you. Because I love you, that is the truth"

When makima looked back down and opened her eyes, you immediately hugged her, she was a bit surprised but wrapped her own arms around you and pulled you closer to her chest

"I knew it.....I knew it was true, I love you too makima, so so much"

".......thank you"

"No....thank you....you cried...that made me understand you could feel emotions...and love...thank you for clearing up this doubts inside me"

"........I cried?.......I didn't realize it"

"Oh?"

"Sorry I must have been distracted by you.....but I think I know why I cried"

"Why?"

"Because you cried.....and pushed me away... I hated that.....being unable to comfort you...and not being with you it's horrible.......I can't live without you"

".....sorry"

"No it's alright You had doubts and that's understandable, especially because it's me... it's alright if you doubt me again but know I will always love you no matter what"

"Don't worry, I'm 100% sure you love me now after that, I....want to be with you forever too"

"...that will happen y/n I'm sure of it"

You two got closer to each other and kissed, makima smiled at you and pulled back before kissing you again multiple times

"Thank you, my love, I'm glad for your existence and your love"

[heart-eyed-love]

Winston

Summary | A stray that wonders the trailer park, that you’ve claimed as yours, as gone missing

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers (eventually), Cursing, Cute kitty, Mentions of Dealer Eddie, Psycho kids attempt to hurt the kitty :(

Pairing | BestFriend!Eddie x BestFriend!Reader

Word count | 2.1k

An | Another cat story cause I love them and I’m cat sitting rn!!! Also sorry this is kinda bad

The boys had decided that their favorite hang out place was Eddie’s trailer. Much to your dismay, cause sometimes they apparently wanted boy time and you had to sit in your own trailer like it didn’t affect you.

It had taken you awhile to find a friend outside of Eddie, excluding the rest of the boys, but as of this year Nancy and her friend Barb had become some nice acquaintances of yours. Nice enough you’ve even recently been invited to a slumber party with the two at Nancy’s house.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t still want to hang out with the boys when they came around, but you let them have their time. And from the sound of it, it has something to do with the band they had recently established. You could hear eddie’s guitar from out on your porch where you sat next to a can of cat food you had bought for the special cat you had come quite close with.

Eddie had informed you he was a stray that had been abandoned by one of the previous owners of one of the trailers. You teared up at the thought of someone leaving him behind, which Eddie had teased you about being so sensitive when it came to animals.

That earned him a glare and quick snap from you, “since when isn’t it sad to be abandoned?” He shut up after that.

You had begged your mother to let you keep him, promising to take care of him, and that you’d pay for all the things he needed with your own money. But she didn’t hesitate to say no, and after begging for a full week after coming across the cat you’d accept your fate, and settled for making a small bedding area around the side of your trailer and feeding him as often as you could.

You had informed Eddie that he’d now be called Winston.

Which is what you were currently trying to do, even with a small pout on your face as you stared at Eddie’s trailer across from yours.

You’re a bit preoccupied by boredom to realize that it has taken Winston quite a bit longer to arrive at his food than he normally did. You had a system that you both seemed to know pretty well, once you came home you’d come back outside with something to eat for the sweet old guy, he seemed to surprisingly be pretty aware of the time frame too.

But as the time went on you began very aware of the lack of cuddly creature you came to love so much.

You stand from your spot on the porch, “Winston?” You called you looking around in front of you. He didn’t come though. You hop down and venture to the padded box that was tucked a bit under your trailer but it was empty, you furrowed your brows slightly.

You felt silly for already being worried but you couldn’t help it, he wasn't some young, nimble cat that enjoyed running around and playing. He liked sleeping, scratches, and food. He never passed up on food.

You wandered towards Eddie trailer, sneakily, the last thing you needed was then think you were spying. You peaked under his trailer, whisper yelling his name out and not hearing or seeing a thing.

You popped back up and rushed quickly back over to your trailer, feeling more and more panicked when you couldn’t find him, you rushed into your trailer grabbing a flashlight, ready to search under every other trailer to find him. But knowing he couldn’t have gone too far, you were worried he may have gotten hurt somewhere.

After searching under and around the nearest trailers and having no sign of Winston, you got teary eyed when you saw it was getting darker.

You decided you didn’t care for Eddie’s boy time, you really needed his help. You ran up the steps to his trailer, knocking a bit frantically as a tear fell down your check and you anxiously chewed at your lip as you waited for him to answer.

And soon enough he does, “Hey, what’s up?” He asks with a smirk, but it quickly drops as he sees the sadness on your face, “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Winston… I had his food out ready to feed him and he didn’t show up so I went and looked around for him and I still can’t find, and I’m scared he might’ve gotten hurt and-“

“Hey, Hey, calm down. We’ll find him, wait out here I’m gonna got get the guys, okay?”

You nod and he’s quickly rushing inside. “Hey, so change of plans… We got a missing cat so, we’re gonna have to go look for him, Kay?” He says as he as he rummages through a drawer in his kitchen, grabbing a flashing, ready to look under trailers for a second time just to ensure you have your cat back by the end of the night.

He remembers when you met Winston, He was a skittish cat not appreciating the presence of just about anyone until he met you. Eddie slightly felt like he related to the cat in that way, but Winston had warmed up to him after he discovered he was a friend of yours. He smiled when you had revealed the name you had picked for the old guy, it was fitting.

And when Eddie found out that your mother had told you ‘There’s no way I’m taking in a gross old stray. It’s not gonna end well, Y/n.’ He wanted to offer to take the cat in at his trailer, telling you that the cat could be both of yours and you could come over as often as you wanted to see him, but that idea was stomped out by the fact that Wayne’s was allergic.

So he tried to play his part by helping anyways, he occasionally brings home a bag of cat food for you to give to Winston. And one he had gone as far to get some catnip.

You laughed and joked, claiming he was doing a great job solidifying his place as a dealer.

“What? Why?” Gareth asked, he had now stopped aimlessly twirling his drumsticks.

“Because Y/n can’t find him on her own so where gonna go help her.” Eddie said matter a factly.

“Maybe the cat just need a break from her.” He’s smirking, as if this is a laughing matter to you. Jeff tries to nudge the boy with his elbow before he can get the sentence out, but Eddie already has that glare on his face, the one they know all too well, the one he uses when he needs to shut them up real quick. And it works.

Eddie tosses one of the flashlights harshly at the boy, “We’re gonna get our asses out there and we’re gonna look for that cat until it’s found. Got it?” His tone has all the boys nodding. Eddie makes his way towards the door, grabbing a hoodie on the hanger by the door, and throwing it over his shoulder as they make their way outside.

You stand from your spot on the bottom step, quickly wiping your tears so the other boys don’t see, “Thanks for this guys…”

“Don’t worry about it…” Eddie says as he makes his way down the steps to where you’re now standing, “Here…” He adds, handing you the hoodie he brought out.

“Thank you…” You say as you slip the hoodie over your head.

“Jeff, Grant.“ Eddie nods his head off to the side, “Gareth you stay with her, help her look under the trailer again in case he comes back…” Eddie says.

“What? Why do-“ Gareth freezes yet again as Eddie send another glare his way and Gareth nods his head, “Yeah, okay… well look over here…” He points his flashlight in the opposite direction and begins trailing off, you’re quick to follow behind him.

You and Gareth begin checking under the trailers that you had already looked under, it felt useless, which made you feel even worse for interrupting their night.

“Hey, uhm… I’m sorry… really I didn’t want to have to come and ask for help… I’m just really worried…” You’re voice was sad, and he felt bad for making you feel worse about it. He turned around the flashlight hitting your eyes as you squinted, and he lowered it quickly.

“No it’s okay… I get it. I’ve you that cat with you, seems like he really loves you…” He says softer than before, he turns back around shining his light in more spots, you come stand next to him.

“You think…?” You duck down where he’s shining the flashlight to check under this trailer.

“Yeah, totally… I have a cat, you know?” Causing you to pop up from where you were crouched, looking at him with a small smile. He thinks it the first time he’s seen you smile since you’ve come over to Eddie’s.

“Really?”

“Yeah, her names Coco. She’s a little diva…” He says as he look over at you, and now there’s a genuine smile on your face, “We’ll find him, okay?”

You nod softly, “Okay…”

On the other side of the trailer park Eddie can hear the chatter of what sounds like some younger kids, maybe a couple years younger than his own group.

He has been acquainted with these boys before, they were fucking nuisances in his eyes. Constantly being a pain in the asses of people within the trailer park, but they stayed away from Eddie, which in turn meant they stayed clear of you as well.

As Eddie approached the kids ready to ask whether or not they had seen an older cat, he caught sound of a distressed meowing sound.

He looked over at Jeff and Grant whose eyes widened at the sight and Eddie rushed over to the boys. They were circled around Winston. Eddie approaches fast, “the fuck are you doing?!” He yells, crushing the boys to jump, startled by the voice that appeared behind them. One of the boys accidentally dropped another one of the fire crackers letting it pop onto the ground.

Winston seemed to recognize the voice and quickly ran away from the boys in the gap of their moment of weakness, “nothing we’re… just playing…” one of the boys says, Jeff and Grant could tell that Eddie had an affect on these boys as well, and they’d hardly ever heard him yell the way he just did.

“Playing?! In what fucking world is torturing a cat fun? Don't be psychopaths.” Eddie sounded so pissed. Which is valid, those boys were being insane, “I know where you guys live, so it’s probably best you don’t fuck with the cat again. Got it?” They nod quickly, walking away, throwing more of their crackers onto the ground as they did.

He looked down to where Winston was standing by his feet, the cat didn’t usually get this close to him if you weren’t around, but Eddie guesses given the circumstances this was different. Eddie picked the old cat up and began walking back to his trailer, and on the way back he spotted you and Gareth poking your head under The Smiths trailer.

“Hey, look.” Gareth says as he taps your shoulder, causing you to pop up and follow where his finger is pointed at Eddie holding Winston.

“You found him!” You say approaching him quickly, Winston seems to recognize the voice as he squirms in Eddie’s arm and jumps down, running up to you. You kneel down picking the cat, “thank you…” You say, looking at Eddie as tearing up again, “thank you all, honestly… I really appreciate…”

“It’s no problem…” Eddie shrugs, trying to play off how happy he feels for helping you.

You turn to Gareth, “And thanks for making me feel better… sorry to interrupt your… band practice?”

“Not really a practice, more so us having to sit around and listen to Eddie play guitar…” Gareth says with a smirk, and he catches Eddie raised brow look.

“You’re lucky we found the cat and I’m in a good mood.” Eddie shoves the boy's head as he makes his way back to the trailer, everyone follows behind him and you follow as well, making your way to your own.

“Thanks again, guys!” You wave from your porch, Winston still in your arm. They wave and you go inside.

You’d sneak Winston into your room that night, feeding him treats and scratching his neck until he’s fast asleep.

[lover-of-skellies]

Does anyone know of games similar to Lethal Company that don't have horrible nightmare creatures in them?

I like the premise of Lethal Company (exploring buildings, avoiding mines/turrets/falling, and finding and selling stuff), but I don't do well with scary things. I can tolerate it a little once in a while, but I typically get spooked pretty easily ^^" as silly as that might be

[astrxealis]

good morning 🥺

[bambrinaa]

season one rafe is so pervy bestfriend rafe he’s so gross and mean and disgusting and nnnghhhgg ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི

rafe’s feet thudded against the floor of your empty house, having let himself in with the key he had copied a few years back. he knew you nor your parents were home, so it gave him the opportunity to do what he wanted.

he has always had a slight crush on you, which as you both got older, it turned into an obsession. a gross, objectifying obsession. he knew he probably shouldn’t think about his bestfriend sucking his dick, or fucking her pretty pussy from the back as often as he does — but who’s to stop him? He’s Rafe Cameron, he does what he likes.

he entered your room, the sweet, faded smell of your candle filling his nose. he glanced around, gliding his fingers across your dresser, before his hand fell to your top drawer, where your panties were.

he opened it, rifling through them until he found his favourite pair — the pink lacy ones. he clutched it in his large hand, not even bothering to close the drawer before going over to your bed.

he sat down, leaning up against the headboard and your soft pillows, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as his other hand grabbed his phone.

it immediately opened to your instagram page, filled with pretty little pictures of you. You at the beach in a skimpy little bikini, in tight little dresses that showed off your pretty little body. he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, shimmying his shorts down enough to free his cock, wrapping your pink panties around it and jerking off slowly.

pre cum dribbled from his angry red tip, making his cock slide easier on the silk part of your panties.

He was panting softly, letting out little groans as he jerked himself off with the lacy silk, in your bed, admiring your pictures.

God, he couldn’t wait until he got his hands on you.

he was so wrapped up in what he was doing, eyes half lidded and lips parted as his hand sped, he didn’t notice your door open, nor your little squeak of surprise at the sight in front of you.

“Rafe?…” You gasped at him, blinking multiple times as if your eyes were playing tricks on you, and that this wasn’t happening.

Upon hearing his name be squeaked from the door way, he turned to look.

instead of jumping up, or stopping, or doing the cliché line of ‘this isn’t what it looks like!’ like any non perverted person would do, he just shrugged.

“Yeah?” He raised his brows, acting as if you were the one being strange, smirking a little as he continued jerking off into your panties.

“Wha—What are you doing? How did you…get here?” You spluttered, eyes glancing between his face and his cock, before staying on his face, cheeks flushed red.

“What’s it look like? ‘N’ I let myself in.” He shrugged, looking back down at the photos of you, letting out soft groan that made your stomach flip.

“Rafe, this — you shouldn’t be in here. What if my dad came in? He would freak—“ You began to ramble, but got cut off once Rafe let out an exasperated sigh, tossing his phone aside.

“C’mere.” He grunted, beckoning you over with a hand as he shuffled in the bed. When he noticed your hesitation, he rolled his eyes before glaring at you.

“M’ not askin’. C’mere, now.”

you slowly made your way over to your bed where he was now knelt, yelping when he grabbed your hand and tugged you down.

“You’re gonna lay here, n watch me jerk off, ‘kay?” He murmured, watching your cheeks flush and hips squirm, glancing between his face and his hand still wrapped around his dick with your lacy panties.

“B–But —“ You squeaked, and he just scoffed, slapping your outer thigh to shut you up.

“Just shut the fuck up ‘n’ watch.”

He began jerking himself off again, this time looking at you instead of your photos. you looked so pretty, with your cheeks all red with embarrassment, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

he smirked down at you, letting out a string of sighs and groans as his free hand went to touch your thigh, slightly spreading your legs for him.

“play with your tits f’me.” he grunted, knelt between your legs and jerking off above you.

it all felt so taboo, this shouldn’t be what bestfriends do, right? they don’t do this.

he rolled his eyes yet again at your hesitation, nudging your leg. “you’re a good friend, right? You wanna make your best friend feel good?” he almost cooed, as if he was mocking you, free hand gently stroking your soft inner thigh.

you gave a soft, shaky nod, eyes drifting to his hand movements for a moment, chewing the inside of your lip as you felt warmth pool in your lower abdomen.

you always had some feelings towards Rafe; whether sexual or romantic, you didn’t know. he was an attractive guy, in his own gross, pervy frat guy way.

“then do what i fuckin’ asked.” he hissed, letting out a lopsided smile of satisfaction as your hands drifted to your chest, softly palming yourself through your shirt.

you let out such a sweet sigh at the feeling, thumbs running over your hardening nipples as you stared at him — now more or less, watching him jerk off as he told you to.

his hand sped, feeling his balls tighten at your sweet little sighs and moans as you played with your tits for your bestfriend.

“pull up your shirt.” he said through gritted teeth before letting out a groan that went straight through your body and to your core.

with your building arousal, you started to no longer care, your embarrassment and hesitation fading as you pulled your shirt up enough to reveal your pretty lacy bra, pulling your tits out of them without him even asking.

he let out a soft laugh, the sound arrogant and smug as he stared down at you, watching you play with your tits, rolling your nipples between your forefinger and thumb.

“rafe…” you moaned, hips twitching towards him as you searched for some form of friction.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut. you like your best friend jerkin’ off for you? huh? with your panties? knew you fuckin’ would, dirty little bitch.” he laughed mockingly, pushing your skirt up to your waist to reveal your cotton panties, clinging to your cunt with your arousal.

he felt his orgasm rapidly approach at the sight of it.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, running a thumb over your clit through the cotton, watching your eyes flutter and a soft whimper fall from your lips. “fuck.” he groaned.

he tore your panties down your legs, pocketing them for later as he stared down at your glistening cunt, clenching around nothing as you whined little pleas at him.

he ignored you, brows pinching together in focus as he stared at your cunt, primal growls and groans falling from his lips as he stroked his dick in sloppy movements.

“f-fuck, shit. fuuck.” he hissed as he came, coating your lacy panties as a few droplets dripped down to your sheets beneath you.

you let out a little whimper at the sight of him cumming, his face scrunched up and eyes rolled back, breaths coming out ragged and rough.

He let out a low groan as his orgasm faded, and he looked down to see your pink panties stained white with his cum.

He smeared his cum all over the silk with the tip of his cock, smirking to himself as he did so. he made sure to coat the part where your pretty pussy would be, before grabbing your legs.

he slid the panties up your legs, up and over your thighs, before pulling them to rest high on your hips. watching with a sadistic glint in his eyes and a mocking smirk as you gasped a breathy whine at the feeling of his warm cum against your cunt, thighs moving to clench together.

“Rafe —“ you whimpered, reaching out for him as he tucked himself back into his shorts, climbing off your bed and walking to your door.

“catch you later.” he said nonchalantly, leaving you in your bed — horny, wet, and with his cum on your cunt.

[miihho]

Can you write type of guy headcanons for thanos (230) please? thx <33

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition) nsfw

English

Korean

Thanos / Player 230

—THANOS IS THE KIND OF GUY who’d shamelessly flirt with you, his words dripping with confidence and charm. He’d slip in Spanish pet names like "señorita" so naturally, it was as if he were born to sweep you off your feet.

There was one day when he suddenly dropped to his knees, a smirk dancing on his lips as he grabbed your hand gently. "I might just start my own religion, because of how often I find myself on my knees for you." He said as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt your face heat up, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks at the boldness of his actions.

He’d also call you every sweet name in the book—"baby," "angel," "princess," "beautiful"—each one rolling off his tongue with effortless confidence. And if that weren’t enough, he’d take it a step further, rapping his feelings for you in a way that was both cheesy and undeniably endearing.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d have a slow-burn romance without even realizing it. At first, it’s nothing more than casual interactions, small moments here and there. He doesn’t notice the shift—how his thoughts linger on you longer than they should, how he starts to care just a little bit more. It’s gradual, almost imperceptible, until one random moment hits him. Like it would suddenly click that he likes you. And now, he can’t stop thinking about it.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t give up on you, no matter how many times you ignored him. Your cold shoulder, your silence—it didn’t faze him. If anything, it only fueled his determination. He’d chase after you relentlessly, his confidence unwavering, his charm impossible to ignore, until you had no choice but to face him.

He spotted you weaving through the crowd, your determined strides screaming leave me alone. Naturally, that only made his grin wider. He adjusted his jacket, his confidence as unshakable as ever, and started after you.

"Señorita!" he called out, you didn’t even glance back at him, but when he saw your pace quicken, it only fueled his determination. He caught up easily, walking alongside you like he belonged there.

"Ah, playing hard to get? I like that," he teased, tilting his head to glance at you with that infuriatingly smug smile. "But you know, you make it way too easy for me to chase you baby. You’re irresistible."

You rolled your eyes and turned sharply, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But the next corner you turned, there he was—leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, like he’d been waiting there all along.

"Miss me already?" he teased with a smirk, his body blocking your path. "You can run, but you can't hide princess. Not from me."

You tried to sidestep him, but before you could get far, he placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, breaking my heart like that? Really?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Just stop, I can’t stand you."

With a smirk that practically oozed confidence, he leaned in slightly, his voice teasing yet bold. "Then just sit on my face."

"W-what!?" You froze, eyes wide with shock, your heart pounding. "Just fuck off!" you snapped, brushing past him quickly, your face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

He chuckled, watching you retreat with that same infuriating smirk. But you knew, as much as you tried to get away, he wouldn’t stop. He was persistent, and no matter how many times you brushed him off, he’d keep following, keep bothering you.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t tolerate some random guy flirting with you. If he saw it happening, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. He’d interrupt the conversation, push the guy back with a forceful shove, and growl, "Back off man! Who the fuck do you think you are hitting on my girl!?" (Yeah even tho you're not his yet)

If the guy was making you laugh or smile, he’d simmer in silence, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. Once the guy was alone, he’d track him down, corner him, and with a dangerous edge to his voice, he’d lean in, his eyes burning with fury.

"Stay the fuck away from Y/n. Got it?" He said, his fist landing a brutal punch to the guy’s stomach, leaving him crumpled on the floor. "She’s my girl," he’d add, his tone low and possessive. "My woman."

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t help but yell, "Ah, there’s my girl!" with a huge grin spreading across his face when you made it out alive. Without a second thought, he’d rush to you, scoop you up in a tight embrace, and hold you like he’d never let go. "I’m so happy you're alive, baby. God, you don’t know how much I missed you." His grip would tighten as if to never let you slip away again.

—He’s the kind of guy who isn’t intimidated by you. He’ll rush toward you, full of energy, relieved that you made it through when the lights went out. While everyone else stood frozen in fear, staring in shock, you were casually wiping blood off your hands, having taken down a whole group without breaking a sweat.

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t believe he’s dating you after you finally accepted him. Like, a guy like him? Sure, he’s Thanos and pretty damn cool, but damn, you’re way cooler than him. So, every now and then, he’ll just blurt out, “Damn, I’m dating her?” when he thinks about you, or “I can’t believe she’s mine.” and his friend will just stare at him, completely weirded out.

—He's the kind of guy who's wildly in love with you, the type to fight a wild animal just to impress you. He lives to make you laugh, even if it means pulling off the dumbest, most ridiculous stunts. His love is chaotic, loud, and endlessly entertaining, but that's what makes it so unforgettable.

One day he tried to bake you a cake from scratch, only to set off the smoke alarm—but he still proudly presented you with the lopsided, half-burnt result, claiming it was "made with love." Or he'd show up at your door with a bouquet made of random wildflowers (and weeds), proudly declaring it’s “nature’s finest” while grinning like a fool.

—He’s the kind of guy who would let you paint his nails in any color you choose or decorate them however you like, all because he loves you and wants you to have that little piece of him.

—Thanos is the kind of guy who always needs to be in physical contact with you when you're together—his hand on your thigh, his arm around your shoulders. He craves that connection, that constant reassurance of your presence. Public displays of affection? He couldn’t care less. If you want him to kiss you in front of everyone, consider it done. If you mention he can kiss you after a game, why would he wait for privacy when he can claim you right in front of his friends? For him, it’s not just about the kiss—it’s about showing the world that you’re his and making sure you feel adored, no matter where you are.

—He’s the kind of guy who’s utterly captivated by your thighs, completely addicted to the way they feel wrapped around him. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, no place more intoxicating than being suffocated by your softness.

He doesn’t just admire them—he worships them. His lips leave a trail of love marks along your skin, his way of claiming every inch as his own. Between kisses, his voice comes out low and teasing, filled with desire. (He also loves eating you out while you're wrapping your thighs around his head and getting suffocated by it. )

—He’s the kind of guy who would cover you in hickeys, leaving them all over your neck and thighs, a clear sign that you’ve been claimed and are already his. With a smirk, he’d tell you he’s just marking his priority, as if every mark is a reminder of who you belong to.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d proudly show you off to his friends with a grin and say, “Yeah, this my girl right here.” And damn, he wouldn’t just say it—he’d feel like the luckiest guy alive to have you by his side.

—He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just take you—he claims you. If he ever finds out you're with someone else, he'll make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

Thanos' rough words dripped with condescension as he gripped your hips, pulling you onto his thick shaft in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into your mercilessly. "You're fucking mine, this fucking tight pussy is mine," he snarled, his balls slapping against your ass with each savage stroke. "This fat cock is the only thing you need. That pathetic loser can't touch this, can he?" He reached down to rub you clit, his fingers pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to ravage you. "Hngg!...—pls s'too much! too much! Thanos m'sorry p-please I w-won't do it again."

"Stop?" He chuckled, "We both know you love this. Being used like a cheap whore, stuffed full of dick. Admit it, you'd rather choke on my cum than go back to that limp-dicked loser."

—Hes the kind of guy who loves messy blow jobs. The sight of your lips stretched obscenely around his throbbing cock, your eyes glazed over in blissful submission, he fucking loves it. Loves how you surrendered completely, letting him control every movement as he fucks your mouth.

"Fuck... Your throat was made for my dick, wasn't it? Such a perfect fit, like you were born to worship my cock." he moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair and using your mouth like a cheap fleshlight as he chased his pleasure. The wet sounds of sloppy oral sex filled the air, punctuated by your muffled whimpers and gurgles. (Gosh he fucking loves that) "Fuck yes... hngg—take it baby, take it all, you filthy little cumdump!" His hips snapped forward, burying his cock to the hilt in your gullet while thick ropes of cum spilled in your mouth, forcing you to gag and sputter around his girth. "Look at you, such a good girl, gagging on my dick like it's your purpose in life. You were meant to be a cumdump, weren't you? Fucking slut."

—He's the kind of guy who loses his shit when you squirt into his mouth, he just fucking loves it when you're flooding his mouth with your ambrosial release. Saying "Holy shit," "I love you so fucking much baby," "Mmmm, you're fucking addictive as hell, baby. Can't get enough of this sweet juices." as he greedily laps up every drop. Just the taste of your squirting orgasm would send him into a fucking frenzy.

—He's the kind of guy who takes you apart piece by piece every time he gets you alone, his usual cruel exterior dissolving into raw, unbridled need. He doesn't just touch you—he worships you, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to draw out every moan, every shiver, every scream he can pull from you.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he'd say, his voice dripping with hunger as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. His lips never leave your skin, trailing kisses and bites down your thighs, across your stomach, up to your neck.

"Look at you, spread open and dripping for me like the filthy little slut you are," he taunted, dragging a finger through your slick folds. "I bet all those prissy boys never made you feel this good, did they? They probably couldn't handle a real woman like you." he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as your body writhes beneath him. Even when your legs shake and your cries turn into breathless pleas, he doesn’t stop. He keeps you teetering on the edge, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until you’re left trembling, completely undone, and utterly his.

[sincerely-sofie]

Many thanks for the tag @asimplearchivist! The post was getting a bit long, so I cleared the reblogs.

coffee or tea (hot chocolate for me!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold (brass) | pop or alternative (I just like what I like, haha!) | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony (I'm scared of heights lol) | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris (Homebody) | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party

some tags of my own: @oblonger, @aria-the-derg, @battyaalllday, @onlyhereforghosttrick, @billycorn, and @stingraywipe along with all you shy guys who would love to join in!

Thanks for the tag @steven-grants-world (we won't go into how giddy I get when I'm tagged in something!)

This or that…

coffee or tea (neither!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party

no pressure tags: @marieziffer, @jewelsrulz, @diplomaticprincess, @wrenwithapen, @witch-oftheflowers, @lunar-ghoulie, @coneygoil, and anyone else who wants to because I hate forgetting people! Do it!

[tender-rosiey]

kneel — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: more utterly devoted gojo? sign me up

you and satoru stroll side by side, the usual banter flowing easily between the two of you. it’s been a relatively calm day—an unusual but welcome change from the usual whirlwind of sorcerer duties and school life.

both of you savor this rare moment of tranquility together.

as you pass the rows of neatly trimmed hedges, satoru suddenly chuckles to himself, a broad grin spreading across his face.

the sound of his laughter is light and carefree. you raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, "what’s so funny?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

he turns his head to glance at you, his eyes glinting mischievously behind his signature blindfold, "y’know, I realized something recently," he says, his tone casual, almost teasing.

you hum in response, waiting for the punchline of whatever random thought has captured his attention. "oh yeah? what’s that?"

satoru slows his pace and then stops, his head tilted slightly as if he's carefully weighing his words.

the light plays over his features, highlighting the contours of his face in a way that makes him look both relaxed and contemplative.

with a lighthearted chuckle, he hums, "all you have to do is breathe, and I’d kneel for you,” he grins at you, “must be nice having the strongest sorcerer wrapped around your finger, huh?"

the words hang in the air, the warm light of the setting sun seeming to pause around you. you blink, stunned. the casual nature of his declaration is in stark contrast to the intensity of the sentiment.

who says something like that so nonchalantly? you stare at him, trying to decipher if he’s being serious or if he’s just messing with you, as he so often does.

satoru resumes his leisurely stroll, his steps light and carefree. his posture is relaxed, a picture of ease in comparison to your flustered self.

you catch up with him, your mind still reeling from his unexpected statement. a soft laugh escapes you, partly out of amusement and partly out of disbelief.

“who drops something like that and then acts like it’s nothing?” you mutter, though your heart is still racing, a mixture of affection and astonishment swirling inside you.

he glances back at you over his shoulder, that playful grin widening further.

"what? it’s true." his voice retains its casual tone, but there’s a glimmer of something more beneath the teasing—a rare flicker of sincerity that catches your attention.

you come to a halt, reaching out to grab his sleeve, gently pulling him to a stop. the gentle pressure of your hand on his arm is enough to make him pause, and he turns to face you. his grin remains, but it softens, the playful edge giving way to something more.

“satoru,” you say, your voice a little quieter now, “but I don’t need you to kneel or do anything for me.”

his expression shifts, curiosity flickering across his face, "oh?"

you step closer, wrapping your arms around him, a gesture he doesn’t hesitate on reciprocating. you take a deep breath and speak softly, “I don’t need you to be the strongest sorcerer or prove anything to me. I just want you.”

for a moment, the air between you changes.

satoru’s smile falters, just for a second. his usual playfulness is replaced with something quieter, more genuine. he looks at you with an intensity that even makes its way through the blindfold.

in fact, for a moment, his hand reaches out for the blindfold and he pulls it down under his chin.

your husband’s eyes never fail to catch you off-guard. they’re bright, so bright. though, you don’t get to appreciate them for long as he closes his eyes and presses a gentle kiss on your forehead.

your lips part in surprise, but satoru doesn’t give you the chance to react further.

because, true to form, he can’t stay serious for long, too much seriousness, and he might just cry.

so he pulls the blindfold right back up, pulling away as that familiar smirk creeps back onto his face, "so you’re saying you married me for my stunning personality and good looks?"

you laugh and roll your eyes affectionately, "exactly. you’ve got me all figured out."

he slips his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, so you continue walking. his grin softens, and he quips, "good! because you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, and I’m not planning on going anywhere."

“like a parasite?”

your husband lets out an incredulous gasp, pulling away from you yet again and clutching his chest. he fake sobs, “do you have hurt me everyday?!”

“aww, I am sorry,” you coo.

“really?!” he beams.

“no.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize

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[misswynters]

Christmas Present

featuring. viktor x afab!reader

warnings. MDNI SMUT (18+), reader wearing lingerie, riding, praising, unprotected sex, blowjob, creampie, viktor being obsessed with hearing the bell you are wearing, soft sex, bondage (m. receiving), breeding, begging and whining, aftercare at the end

requested by anon (combined the christmas and the riding viktor requests)

a/n. got lazy at the end :(

The workshop was unusually quiet for the evening, a rare stillness settling over the room. The only sounds were the faint hum of machines idling in the background and the soft creak of Viktor’s cane as he approached the workbench. You could hear his measured steps echoing off the walls, the rhythm unhurried, likely lost in some grand idea. You smiled to yourself, anticipation bubbling as you sat in his chair, carefully positioning yourself for the reveal.

The lingerie you wore was festive yet bold, a delicate mix of red and green fabric that hugged your curves. A small, golden bow sat perfectly in the center of your sternum, just above a jingling bell that chimed softly with every shift of your body. You felt equal parts daring and nervous, unsure how Viktor might react to such an unconventional “gift.” But you knew him, beneath his composed exterior lay a man brimming with emotions he often kept restrained. Tonight, you intended to bring those emotions to the surface.

Viktor called your name, his voice carrying an affectionate cadence as it bounced through the workshop. “Are you here? I thought we agreed to meet for dinner, not…hide in my workshop.” His words were laced with amusement, though there was an edge of curiosity.

You waited until you heard the soft click of the door closing behind him before turning the chair around slowly. His amber eyes widened at the sight of you, his steps faltering as though he had forgotten how to walk. For a moment, he simply stared, his mouth parting slightly before snapping shut. His fingers gripped the handle of his cane tightly, and you could see the muscles in his jaw flex as he struggled to find words.

“Viktor,” you said softly, your voice laced with playful confidence. “Merry Christmas.”

He took a shaky breath, his eyes roaming over you. It was hesitant at first, as though he were unsure if he was allowed to look, but soon lingering on every detail. The red and green satin, the bow, the golden bell. It all seemed to render him completely speechless. His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and when he finally managed to speak, his voice was a hushed whisper.

“Y-you look stunning,” he stammered, his accent thick, each word tinged with awe. “I did not expect this. You are…my present?”

You nodded, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “Do you like it?”

His steps were hesitant as he moved closer, his cane tapping lightly against the floor. When he reached the chair, he leaned down, his hands gripping the armrests tightly, knuckles white with the effort it took not to touch you. His breath was warm against your face, and his amber eyes, usually so focused and calculating, now shimmered with a mix of love and unspoken need.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. His gaze flickered to the golden bell resting against your sternum. A small, almost mischievous smile played at the corners of his lips as he reached out, his fingers brushing the bell lightly. The soft chime it produced sent a shiver down your spine, and Viktor’s eyes darkened at the sound. “Thought of everything,” he said, his tone warm yet trembling slightly. “Even this small detail…too much for me, my love.”

You reached up, your fingers curling around the edges of his vest and tugging him closer. His body stiffened for a moment before he gave in, leaning closer until your noses were nearly touching. His gaze flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, his internal battle written all over his face.

“Are you just going to stand there and admire me, or are you going to do something about it?” you teased, your voice a soft purr as your fingers trailed down from his shoulders to his chest. Lowering down to his stomach.

Viktor let out a shaky laugh, his lips twitching as though he wanted to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “Taking my breathe away,” he said, his voice low and filled with a mix of reverence and amusement. “You know this, yes?”

“Of course,” you replied, your eyes locking with his as you leaned back slightly in the chair, giving him a better view of your figure. “Now, are you going to unwrap your present, or should I do it for you?”

Viktor’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, as though trying to commit every detail to memory. Then, with a determination that sent a thrill through you, he straightened and moved his hands from the armrests to your thighs, his touch was light. His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns against the satin fabric, his movements reverent.

“My pretty gift,” he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. “Not just tonight, but always. How did I ever deserve you?”

“You don’t have to deserve me, Viktor,” you replied, your voice equally soft as you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones. “You just have to love me.”

“I do,” he said, his voice firm now, his amber eyes locking with yours. “More than I can ever express.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. You tugged him closer again, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was slow at first but quickly deepened. Viktor’s hands gripped your thighs more firmly, his restraint slipping as he poured every ounce of his love and need into the kiss. The bell at your sternum chimed softly as you shifted, the sound blending with the faint hum of the workshop’s machines. Viktor pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “The sound… It is perfect. Just like you.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you smiled against his lips. “Merry Christmas, Viktor,” you murmured.

“And to you, my love,” he replied, his voice full of warmth and promise as he leaned in for another kiss, the workshop fading away as the two of you lost yourselves in each other.

Viktor's breath lingered against your lips as he leaned in again, his hand cupping your jaw delicately. His kiss was featherlight at first, as though he were savoring the taste of you, committing every moment to memory. The softness of his lips, the way his thumb brushed against your cheek. It was achingly tender, his care evident in every movement. Time seemed to stretch as the two of you stayed like that, exchanging gentle kisses that grew slower, deeper, more meaningful with each passing moment.

Viktor's free hand found its way to your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the delicate strap of your lingerie. His other hand remained steady on your jaw, holding you as if you might disappear at any moment. When he finally pulled back, it wasn't far. His forehead rested against yours, and his amber eyes gazed into yours. His breathing was uneven, each exhale mingling with yours as the two of you stayed in this shared bubble of intimacy.

"You are..." he started, his voice hushed but thick with emotion, "you are more than I could have ever dreamed of. Sometimes I wonder if this is all some invention of my mind."

You chuckled softly, your hand rising to brush a strand of hair away from his face. "This is very real," you murmured, your voice filled with affection. "And so am I."

His lips curved into a faint smile, but the look in his eyes was serious, filled with love and awe. He nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over your face as though he were memorizing every detail. Then, without another word, he leaned in again, this time closing the distance with a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was as though a dam had broken. His lips moved against yours with a new passion, every kiss filled with a need that had been simmering under the surface. His hand left your shoulder to slide down to your waist, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours, and a soft hum of pleasure escaped you, which only seemed to spur him on.

Viktor pulled back briefly, just long enough to catch his breath, his eyes darkened with desire as they met yours. "You make it hard to think straight," he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent, sending a thrill through you.

"Isn’t that the point?" you teased, your voice soft but breathless as you pulled him closer, your arms wrapping around his neck. "Seems like I’m doing something right."

His response was a soft laugh, but it quickly dissolved as he dove back into the kiss, this time with even more passion. His hands slid around your waist, holding you firmly yet gently, and with a surprising strength, he lifted you out of the chair. Your body pressed flush against his as his arms wrapped around you, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. You yelped his name, surprised by the sudden action.

He only smiled, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. "Sure, full of surprises tonight," he murmured, "but two can play that game."

He turned, carefully sitting back in the chair while positioning you to straddle his lap. The new position made your breath hitch as your knees settled on either side of him, your bodies impossibly close. His hands settled on your waist again, holding you steady as his gaze roamed over you, lingering on the golden bell nestled against your chest.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward, and he reached out to flick the bell lightly again. The soft chime it produced seemed to echo through the workshop, and his eyes flicked back to yours, filled with mischief. "I like this sound," he admitted, his voice a little rough. "I may want to hear it more."

Your cheeks heated at his words, and you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you. "You'll have to work for that," you teased, your fingers slipping under the edge of his vest, brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Viktor's breath faltered as your hand brushed against him, his fingers tightening around your waist with a quiet intensity. "Everything about you is a temptation," he said softly, his voice laced with both admiration and desire.

You smiled up at him, a hint of playfulness in your eyes. "I think you're just weak for me," you teased, your voice tender and full of warmth.

His only response was another kiss, this one searing in its intensity. Your hands wandered further, slipping under his shirt to trace the lines of his torso. His body tensed slightly under your touch, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you even closer against him.

The golden bell jingled softly with every movement, a reminder of the festive occasion, but the two of you were far too lost in each other to notice much else. Viktor's lips left yours to trail down your jaw, his kisses soft but deliberate as he moved to your neck. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access, and a soft sigh escaped you as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot. You whined slightly, your hands tangling in his hair as he continued his care.

"Yes, my love?" he replied, his voice a soft whisper against your skin.

"Keep going, please-" you begged, your voice barely audible but filled with need.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. "I had no intention of doing so," he assured you, his lips trailing back up to capture yours again in another passionate kiss.

Viktor’s hands slid down to your waist, gripping you more firmly as he pressed you closer against him. The movement was slow but deliberate, and your body instinctively followed his lead, your hips shifting to meet his. The only thing separating the two of you was the thin layer of fabric you wore.

He smiled faintly, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. One of his hands trailed upward, brushing against the small of your back before settling there, holding you steady as he encouraged your movements with a subtle shift of his hips. The friction elicited a soft moan from you, and Viktor’s grip tightened slightly in response.

The sound of the golden bell ringing faintly between you only heightened the moment, the delicate chime contrasting with the growing intensity of your shared passion. Viktor’s lips left yours to trail along your jawline, leaving a path of warm, lingering kisses. When he reached the curve of your neck, his lips hovered there for a moment, his breath hot against your skin.

“...so perfect,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of reverence and longing.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you tilted your head to the side, giving him better access. “That's sweet of you to say,” you replied, your voice soft but playful.

Viktor let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your neck. “Sweet, hmm?” he said, his tone laced with a teasing edge. “You may find I am not so sweet after all.”

“Viktor,” you breathed, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as you leaned closer, your lips brushing against his ear.

His response was a shaky exhale, his head dipping forward to press a kiss to your shoulder. “It is you,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You make everything, every moment, so much more.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, your hands moving from his shoulders to cup his face. You guided his gaze back to yours, your thumb brushing lightly against his cheek. Viktor didn’t need to be told twice. His lips found yours again, and the two of you lost yourselves in each other, the rest of the world fading away. The chair creaked softly beneath you, but neither of you paid it any mind. All that mattered was the shared warmth between you, the unspoken promises conveyed in every kiss, every touch, every whispered breath.

His hands began to roam your body, not leaving a single part untouched. You began reaching down to undo the buttons of his trousers, and when you finally undid all of them, Viktor stopped. Looking at you in the eyes with a soft and kind expression. “My love, do you want to continue?

Then you slowly began stroke his cock starting with the tip, your thumb pressing lightly. This earned a ragged groan from him as he leaned his head back against the back of the chair.

“Y-you have… experience in everything don’t you? he whispered against your ear as your hand moved down to the base, pumping him a few times. Now that you actually look at it, it’s longer than what you thought. It has been so long since you found time to do this. He would always be so busy with his inventions, meeting with the council, etc.

Taking his now hard cock into your hand, you hovered over his hips. Your arousal was sticky, the soft layer that separated the two of you, clinging to your body. Then Viktor looped it around his finger, moving it to the side. “Go on,” he whispered his amber eyes looking at your with such love and desire. He took your smaller hand into his, helping you align his cock between your folds. “Let me help you.”

Oh, how you loved the way he looked at you. Maintaining eye contact while intimate always made you blush inside. Viktor began to slide it between your slick folds a few times, collecting the wetness that lingered before setting the thin fabric aside again. He pushed his tip slowly and antagonizing, as the two of you moaned softly. Leaning forward you flushed your chest against his, resting you head of his shoulder. He got ahold of your hips with a firm grip, slipping the palm of his hands towards the bottom of your ass.

He looked at you as he leaned toward you, his head laid on yours. Kissing you temple, as his lips brushed against your ear, reassuringly. “Doing alright, my love?”

You didn’t want to respond. Well, more like you couldn’t the overwhelming pleasure was too much for you so you just nodded in agreement. With that he began to lower you down, his cock slowly filling you up to the hilt. His long length being wrapped tightly by your walls, he wanted to let out a moan. But all that came out was a shaky sigh.

He slowly pulled out and pushed back in, each thrust causing soft, wet squelching sounds as your bodies met. The sound of your skin slapping was a reminder of how deeply he was filling you, every thrust a testament to the care he took in making sure you felt each inch of him. His pace was measured, slow, but intense. He was lost in the way your body responded to him, how tight and warm you were around him.

Every time he thrusted upwards, the golden bell that laid on your chest rang more loudly. It was like it ignited something in his that make his go slower but harder. He wanted to hear that bell ring more. The harder you bounced on his cock, the louder the bell rang. His chair creaked at the hinges from each impact.

Viktor kissed you slowly starting from the edge of your shoulder towards the end of your collarbone. Leaving wet kisses as he traveled up your neck, and finally reaching your jawline. His hand moving up between the valley of your chest. When he reached the precious bell, he flickered it with his fingers. Ding Ding Ding.

You had an idea, very brilliant one. Slowly you lifted yourself up from his hips, his cock falling limp. He looked up at you with curiosity.

He cupped your gently, “Where are you going?” he said softly, that it make your heart flutter even though you were in a compromising position. You didn’t say anything yet, thinking about how you were going to put your idea into words. A few seconds had passed before you could get the courage to ask.

“Where’s the ribbons at?” you asked, looking away shyly, not making eye contact with him.

“The satin ribbons we used for wrapping some of the presents?-” he replied, pondering trying to reach the depths of his mind to see if he can remember where he last placed them, unaware of your intentions.

You nodded yes, as he pointed towards a wooden cabinet near the table the two of you sat by. Walking over, with your legs trembling and weak, you reached the doors opening them with a creak. It was an old cabinet for sure. There were the ribbons, in the center with its pink satin colors slightly glowing with the dim lights. You picked it up and walked towards Viktor who was still siting in his chair, with somewhat of exhaustion lingering in his face.

Trying your best as you maintained eye contact, you lightly tied the ribbons around your chest. Once it was softly secure against your body with a bow finishing it off, you sat on his lap again.

Viktor’s hands, still gentle yet trembling with restraint, hovered over your waist as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The soft golden glow of the workshop lamps illuminated his tousled hair, casting shadows on his face that only deepened the intensity in his eyes. His breaths were shallow, and though his posture remained collected, you could feel the weight of his emotions beneath the surface.

“I… cannot do this to you,” he murmured into your ear, his voice thick. Accent curling around every word like a warm embrace. His eyes darted toward the ribbon tied loosely around your chest, the bell at its center giving a soft chime as you shifted.

You tilted your head, confused by the sudden hesitation. “Why not?” you asked, voice teasing but with curiosity.

Viktor pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “Because…” He hesitated, his lips parting as if searching for the right words. “You are no gift to be unwrapped and claimed. You are so much more than that. I cannot bear to treat you as though you are anything less than my equal.”

His confession caught you off guard, your heart squeezing at the sincerity in his tone. There was something achingly vulnerable in the way he spoke, as if the very idea of reducing you to a “present” was an slur to the depth of his feelings for you.

The playful grin on your face softened into something more tender. “Oh-,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair, your touch gentle. “That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

A flicker of a smile touched his lips, though his blush deepened. “I mean every word,” he said softly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the ribbon with reverence. “But…” His gaze turned quite mischievous, his golden eyes glinting with newfound confidence. “If it must be someone, then tie me up instead.”

Your eyebrows raised at his suggestion, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You?”

“Why not?” His tone was soft, but his words carried a daring edge. “If you are to tease me like this, then it is only fair I surrender myself to your whims. Let me be yours.” The image of Viktor, bound in ribbons and entirely at your mercy, sent a delicious shiver down your spine. You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his in a featherlight kiss before pulling back, your smile playful.

“You’re serious?”

His gaze never wavered. “For you? Of course, I’m always serious.” The boldness in his reply sent warmth flooding through you, and without hesitation, you reached for the loose ribbon on your chest, pulling it free with a gentle tug. It slid from your skin, the bell giving one last soft chime before you wrapped it around your hands.

“Let’s see how you handle being my present,” you slightly teased, looping the ribbon around his arms. Strapping them to the arms rest of the chair. Once you finished tying him up (with the finishing touches being bows on each side), you went on your knees placing you hands on his thighs. Caressing them upwards until it reached his glistening length.

One of your hands eagerly ran from base to shaft, the other resting comfortably on his thigh as your lips eagerly sucked on the tip. Biting your lower lip, you pulled your eyes away just for a second to glance at how evident he was. His length had gained its strength. You just can’t help the smile that breaks over your face. You were staring up at him through your eyelashes as you work your hands and mouth. His breath is shaking, as you go to lick up his length he quickly brings a hand towards your hair to curl into your head.

“Fuck.” he whispered out, so much pleasure building already with the added height of fear of someone walking in at anytime. Bursting through the door, like someone would always do.

Removing yourself briefly you locked eyes with him. “You are sure enjoying yourself, huh?” you let out a small chuckle, lightly scraping your teeth while looking back up at him with am innocent smile.

“S-stop teasing-” he softly stuttered, his hand laced back into your hair pushing you back down on his length.

You pressed your lips against the head of his cock, tongue darting out to taste the precum there. You gave kitten licks, wrapping your hand around the base and giving his length gentle pumps.

You maintained the eye contact, looking up at him while kissing his sensitive skin. Your free hand massaged his leg, up and down his thigh to ease the pain there and earning you another pleased sigh from his lips as his eyes fluttered shut.

He groaned, sagging back into his chair. As you continued, your hand found his, lacing your fingers together to ground himself. He let out soft moans, bucking his hips a bit as he muttered sweet nothings you couldn’t understand.

Taking his tip into your mouth, you began to lap and suck it before pushing yourself further. As you continued, he got louder without hesitation (though it wasn't loud enough it could be heard through the door) and more whinier.

He whined, moaning your name as softly. His muscles tensed as he gripped the arms of the chair, hard enough to make his knuckles go white. His chest moved upwards, voice breaking as he begged you to slow down between more broken begging of your name.

You ignored them, tears beginning to build and spill from your eyes as your own body demanded an end to the constant badgering at the back of your throat. He groaned loudly; your only warning before he was coming, thick, hot streams jetting into your mouth. You whimpered slightly.

His eyes are soft, almost shy. “Let me return the favor,” he says as he lifts up his head to look down at you, his voice low, warm. With careful movements, you stood up from your knees which were slightly red due to the hard floor as you straddled him once again.

You melted into him, feeling safe and loved. “Is there anything you want for Christmas?” Viktor asks, his voice hesitant, as though he’s unsure of what you’ll say.

You think for a moment, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I want you to be a father," you say quietly, your heart full of warmth as you look into his eyes.

Viktor’s face flushes a deep red, his grip tightening gently around the chairs armrest. He looks at you as if processing your words, his expression both surprised and touched. Slowly, he adjusts you, making sure you’re comfortable as you straddle his lap once more. then you remembered that you hadn't came yet, so its a perfect opportunity.

Sinking down his sensitive length you let out a moan, your hands gripped the bottom of his vest. Viktor began to breath heavily, matching yours perfectly. Burying himself deep inside of you, wanting so badly to pull you into a hug. Sadly, his hands were still restrained. He whined against your lips, "C-can you untie the bows, Please-"

"Sorry Goldie, No can do," you said teasingly with a soft voice, wiggling your finger no towards his face.

He kept hitting the perfect spot, over and over again. It felt amazing. You leaned towards him, hands resting on his chest. Then you laid your head over his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He desperately wanted to hug you back that it was painfully noticeable. How he moved his head, caressing it against your arm. Smelling your scent of vanilla bean and coconut oil as he ran his big slightly curvy nose bumping on your forearm.

“Can you please untie me, my love” he begged once again, his hips bucking against yours delicately. The way he looked at you with the softness in his amber eyes. Oh, you couldn’t resist much. Barely lasting more than 5 minutes having his hands tied up, such a desperate man. Leaning back slightly with his cock still inside of you, you began to untie the bows. Luckily, you didn’t tie them tightly around his wrists so they easily came off in seconds.

Immediately, his hands went straight to your ass again, like earlier. This time however he spread them wider, the pleasure overwhelming his senses unable to fully control his grip on you. As he thrusted upwards, he set a slighter faster but nevertheless harder pace.

Viktor's hand slip up to the small on your back, pulling you towards his chest. All you could do was lay against him as he continued his pace. Occasionally you would bounce on him, nearly pulling out before going back down. But it was very difficult to keep up with him as he desperately tried to find his own release inside of you after a longing of teasing. This would also will be the first time tonight for you. The ringing of the bell intensified with every thrust.

Clutching at his black button-up shirt, now stained with your tears of pleasure and a bit of drool. As you finally started to find your own release, the lewd squelching sounds were present in the room. Moans and soft gasps were all that could be heard from the two of you alongside the whispered of encourage he would speak into your ear.

You’re doing so good.

Taking me so well.

With every second that passed by, the closer your climax was. It was a close call though seconds apart, but you were the first one. Squirting on his cock with some of it dripping down to his pants as it spilled out of you. Then he came inside of you, shooting his load deep inside. Filling you up to the brim, hoping that with this your Christmas wish would come true in the next 9 months.

He caressed your back as he pulled you off him, sitting you back on his lap. Soaked by your arousal, luckily his pants were black.

“Best gift ever.” he simply said as he smiled, looking at your face that rested on his shoulder in exhaustion. Ringing the bell on your chest with his slender fingers, once again.

You sat on his lap, your legs tucked to one side, cradled securely by his strong arm wrapped around your waist. His other hand rested lightly on your thigh, his thumb brushing idle patterns your soft skin. Your head rested against his shoulder, and his faint scent surrounded you into the present. Viktor’s heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, and the rise and fall of his chest matched your own.

"You’re quiet," he murmured, his voice soft and slightly raspy. "Are you alright, my love?"

You tilted your head to look up at him, his amber eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and adoration. "I’m fine," you whispered, your lips curving into a small smile. "Just...happy."

A rare, genuine smile tugged at Viktor’s lips, and his hand moved to cup your cheek, his fingers gentle and warm. "Good," he said simply, but the weight behind the word spoke volumes.

His eyes studied you, his gaze lingering on the faint flush of your cheeks and the way your lashes fluttered as you looked at him. "You take such good care of me," he continued, his tone tinged with both gratitude and guilt.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his expression softened further. Viktor’s hand slid from your cheek to your back, pulling you closer until your foreheads rested together. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and you closed your eyes, letting the world outside the lab fade away.

"Stay like this a little longer," he whispered, his voice a gentle plea.

"I’m not going anywhere," you promised, your hand finding its way to his chest, where you felt the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

His lips brushed your temple in a featherlight kiss, and you felt him relax further beneath you, his body molding against yours as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle. For a man who often carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, you holding him close to your heart, was the best gift you could ask for.

taglist. @simsaelies @urboylys @nanamea @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @jinxsfavoritepookie @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

oral fixation but it's biting instead of sucking. toji has noticed that you like to gnaw on your lip a lot – when you're deep in thought, when you're watching tv, scrolling on your phone, in bed. it's cute. teeth sinking into the soft flesh, eyes blown wide as he works his mouth on you. he can't tear his gaze from you – you're biting down so hard, toji thinks you're going to draw blood. you're desperate, you're needy, and you need more.

he often finds you chewing on your on fingers, too. playing with the sharp canines in your mouth, toji holds back a groan before fixing himself through his pants. it's not his fault you look so good all the fucking time! and the fact that you're doing it unconsciously too, is making his head spin.

you do that in bed as well. toji has learned that you're not trying to hold back your moans – your teeth itch. you need more. he can see the marks you leave on your own skin, how you drool all over the finger that's lodged between your fangs. you bite down harder and harder with every thrust he makes and it has him wondering how much it hurts. do you like the pain? can you even feel it, or is it just pleasure in your head? he needs to know.

so, with one quick move, he pulls your hand from your mouth and pushes his own pointer finger past your lips instead. his hips never falter and he fucking adores the way you try to focus on what he's doing; you're fighting the urge to just let your eyes roll back inside your head but now that his heavy finger sits on top your tongue, you cannot allow them to do so.

your mouth is so warm and wet, and toji twitches inside you. his own lips part as he stares down at your confused expression. you close your mouth around his finger, thinking that he wants you to suck it but no, no...

"bite." his voice is more hushed than usual and the knot in your tummy tightens. "i know ya want to."

hesitation pools in your eyes but he washes it away by leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to your cheek. it's sloppy, it leaves a stain and a whine bubbles up from your throat. he stays close, his lips brush over your jaw – and that's all it takes for you to obey.

the hiss he let's out is addicting; he pulls back from you in an instant, his mossy eyes glued to your mouth. it doesn't hurt, not really – it's perfect. the roll of his hips slows as he tries to slide his finger between your teeth (he wants it to hurt a little more), he loves the way sharp edges scratch st his already rough skin and he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. a little scared that he'll stop, that he'll tease you, but he won't. not when it feels this good.

you bite down even harder and his hips buck forward at the sensation. his own eyes grow wide, surprised by how much it's affecting him and he grumbles something under his breath before picking up the pace again. you're leaving dents in his skin and you're drooling, you're squirming and twitching. you're so fucking pretty and fucked out and cockdrunk and you keep whining around his fingers and he's going to pump you so full that you're going to taste his cum<33333

[auroracalisto]

with all the power in oz

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 2.2k words summary: the reader, rather anxious and studious, finds their self head-over-heels with none other than fiyero, supposed boyfriend to galinda upland. to placate this, they somewhat agree to meet him at the ozdust ballroom. a/n: YOU pronouns are used to address the reader, but there is no usage of y/n. just watched the movie today. tried to find a fic, couldn't. here I am writing one instead. reader worries a lot. so me. you're welcome. also, I'm going into this blind. I have unfortunately never seen the actual musical (downsides to living in the middle of nowhere) so I'm only going off based on wikis and the movie. it should be gn as I read through it like... five different times, but please let me know if I missed something!

Breathtaking. That's what he was. But could you truly refer to a man like him as breathtaking?

The very features that graced his face were absolutely mesmerizing, and you felt like a fool watching him at times. How could you not? He seemed so full of life, so full of... well, not a care in the world, really. It was as if he brushed everything off of his shoulders without hesitation.

You could only wished you were the same way.

No cares, no worries. How lovely that would have been.

No, you hold onto the things that happen to you as if you have no other way to live. You hold grudges, you think over things that happened years ago that no one could possibly remember.

For someone who wished to be a sorcerer, you had a hard time simply letting things go. Your emotions often got the better of you, even when you knew better. Even when you wished it could be the opposite. But perhaps that was the way of the world.

Not a man in Oz could tell you otherwise.

Books in hands, you crossed the path to your dormitory, brows cinched together in mild concentration.

You had a project in your history class, and an extensive paper to complete on the study of mathematics—of all the things you could have had, a paper in mathematics. You'd rather perform magic in front of the entire student body, but you couldn't.

As you walked, you heard your name come from behind you. Eyes flicker back, a soft frown on your lips. You see him—Fiyero. The one fool you meant to avoid with all the gumption within you.

You'd melt just being near him.

"Fiyero," you softly greet.

He gave you a charming smile, coming up to walk with you. "Heading back already?" he asked.

"I am."

"Working on the project, hm? We could work on it together if you'd like. I'm sure our minds could do wonders," he said, a playful wink coming from him.

"I'm fine," you simply said.

He blinked slowly, but his smile never wavered. "Come now," he said, your name leaving his lips rather sweetly. "Surely you're not going to spend the rest of your evening alone. Why don't you come to Ozdust tonight?"

You looked back at him, frowning. "Ozdust. Me. I don't think so, Fiyero."

"And why not? I'm sure you'd be as dashing as ever."

You stopped in your steps, eyes searching his for but a moment. "Dashing. Are you in earnest, Fiyero?"

"Yes," he said, smiling.

"And what of Galinda? You'll be with her. Why invite me?"

"She doesn't need to know. It's not her business," he said. "Besides, she will be busy with Elphaba. I'd much rather spend time with you."

"And I think you're just pulling my leg," you said defensively. You crossed your arms over your chest, careful to keep your books close.

"Pulling your leg? I haven't even touched you," he said, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Come now, don't play coy. You should come."

"And if I do?"

"Then I'll be quite happy."

You rolled your eyes and went to walk away.

A hand wrapped around your bicep, and you paused, glancing over your shoulder at him.

His eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hand, albeit hesitantly. Perhaps he didn't think he would actually reach out to you. He cleared his throat.

"I really would like you to be there. You'll have the time of your life."

"The time of my life," you repeated. "I don't think you realize how much I dread parties."

"Have you ever been to one?"

"No."

"Then how do you know you dread them?"

"I just know," you said. "I feel it in my bones. I know going will just get on my nerves."

He scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. "I think you're foolish for that," he said. "Come on. What are you losing? A couple hours to work on a project that you know you could finish in a morning session? You'll be fine. Come to the Ozdust tonight. I'll show you a good time."

You clenched your jaw. "I don't want—"

"—I would like you to be there. That is all. I won't ask again." He gave you another small smile before he looked away. "I'll see you around. Perhaps tonight?"

You stared him down. He would like to see you there? Was he being honest? And what of Galinda? Would he be going behind her back? Wasn't he madly in love with her, or something? Or was it the other way around?

He said your name once more, and you looked up at him, letting out a soft sigh.

"Right. Perhaps tonight," you softly said.

The smile on his lips was rather... hopeful than anything else. There wasn't anything smarmy by it. He seemed as genuine as the glint in his eye—the one he used when he spoke with anyone he trusted. At least, you hoped so.

The night came quickly as you finished up your outfit—one you would hope you didn't look completely foolish in. The color you chose seemed to fit well with almost anything, but you still worried. You always worried about something.

Time was of the essence. You weren't even supposed to leave Shiz University's campus, but here you were, sneaking like some scoundrel.

Well, perhaps you were, listening to the requests of a man who already had a girlfriend—a fantastically beautiful one at that.

But you paid no mind. You did what you could, and soon, you found yourself walking down the steps of the Ozdust Ballroom.

Never had you been in a place like this. It was almost... breathtaking, had it not been for the overpowering smells of perfume and some kind of drink wafting from the bar. Your eyes flitted from patron to patron until you finally spotted him—Fiyero.

He looked just as handsome as ever.

Good Oz, what in the world were you doing? This was foolish.

You took a step back, staring at Fiyero for a moment as he spoke with another man, drink in hand. You needed to leave. This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous! Never in a thousand years would you ever imagine yourself to do such a thing—

"You made it!"

Fiyero's voice rang out above the music.

You look to him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Because of course he saw you as soon as you had decided to leave.

Fiyero smiled and made his way to you, taking your hands in his, drink left with the confused man behind him. Surely he didn't just up and leave in the middle of his conversation.

You part your lips and go to speak, but to your dismay, Fiyero is instant.

"I was afraid you had changed your mind," he said. "You look ravishing, darling."

Your eyes widened. Ravishing? You'd been called many things in your life, but never ravishing.

"Galinda couldn't make it?" you asked.

"Wha—no, she couldn't. But what of it? I didn't ask her to the Ozdust, I asked you. I'm glad to see your face."

Warmth blossomed in your cheeks as you watched him. "Fiyero, please... I shouldn't be here."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, grinning all the while. "Come. Dance with me."

"But I don't—"

"—do not say you don't dance. I can teach you."

"Teach me?"

"It's as easy as breathing," he said.

"For you, maybe, but not for—"

"—humor me," he said, smiling.

You pursed your lips. Of course he had to give you that charming smile and the sweet bat of his eyelashes.

"I do not dance," you repeated.

"I think I will be the judge of that."

He grabbed your hands once more and pulled you out into the ballroom floor, smiling all the while.

"You'll be a natural. I can just see it."

"I feel like if I were a natural, you wouldn't have to teach me," you said, gasping as he pulled you close to his chest. His face was dangerously close to yours, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

"You know," he began, eyes flickering back to your eyes. "We all start somewhere, do we not? You should know that better than anyone."

"What? What does that—"

He interrupted you by spinning you by your arm, back into his embrace. The music was rather ambient, not quite one for dancing so enthusiastically, but Fiyero embraced it. Hand to your hand, face close to your face.

"See? A natural."

"You merely spun me around, Fiyero. Do not be foolish."

"You could have fell flat on your face," he said, a boyish grin evident on his lips.

"Stop looking at me like that," you defiantly said. "You are far too close to me for my liking."

"Oh, feisty, are we?" he asked, moving his body along to the music and forcing you to go along, too. You nearly stepped on his toes several times. "I do not think there is anything wrong with the way I'm looking at you. You're rather breathtaking, if I may."

Breathtaking. The same way you had described him only hours before. He wasn't a mind reader, was he?

No.

Of course not. That was foolish. He was merely a man. Nothing of great importance—no power within him other than the power he held in every single eyelash as they batted down at you, making you melt over and over again.

"What of Galinda?" you repeated.

"What of her?"

"You shouldn't be calling someone who isn't yours breathtaking. It's quite..."

"There is nothing wrong with admiring the beauty in front of me," he said, your name playfully leaving his tongue. "Look at me. Galinda and I are only friends."

You rolled your eyes. "Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened a bit. "Lie? I do not lie. We are friends and nothing more. Though I do believe she thinks differently..."

"She must," you said, huffing softly.

"But that does not make it true. I have eyes for someone else."

"Eyes for someone else?"

He tilted his head once more. He was rather endearing when he did that.

"Who did I ask to their very first party?" he asked, smiling. "It's quite a feat, isn't it? Afraid you wouldn't show, and then you do, questioning me and everything I stand for, hm?"

Warmth found its way to your cheeks once more. You looked away from him. With the crescendo of the music, Fiyero pulled you closer, fingers lacing with yours. His lips hover dangerously close to yours.

"You know, if you would just give it a chance, perhaps you and I could make some magic of our own."

You let out a curt laugh. "You—oh, good Oz, I hope you never use that line on anyone! Has that worked for you before?"

He gave a cheeky smile. "It seems like it's working on you."

"Absolutely not!"

"Not even a little!"

"No!"

His smile only seemed to grow. "Truly?"

You looked away, swallowing thickly. "I mean... no. Not even a little. Not at all."

"You're lying," he said.

"I am not."

"I do think I know what I'm talking about," he said, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. "Come now," he said. "Stop with the lies."

You looked up at him, a soft huff escaping you.

"Fine. I lied. It may or may not be working. But it's not just because of what you said."

"Oh? Are you saying you like me for more than my suave words?"

"Suave words? Who in Oz said they were suave?"

He just smiled, his eyes flickering to your lips once more. "Do you think instead of just a dance, I could try something more?"

"Try what?"

"I think you know."

You blinked slowly at him, your fingers gently gripping onto his tunic. Your lips part in mild surprise, but you realize that you shouldn't have been. He'd been eyeing you the entire evening.

"Very well," you softly said.

"Wonderful," he replied, and in a swift motion, he pressed his lips to yours. It was short as he pulled back almost as soon as he had kissed you, but it was enough to keep you wanting more.

"Fiyero, that wasn't—"

"—come with me," he softly said, lacing his fingers with yours once more. "Somewhere without so many prying eyes, yes?"

Your answer was almost instant: "Yes."

Fiyero led you back up the staircase, and he didn't look back once at the ballroom.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Somewhere where I can see you and only you," he said. "If that's alright."

"Oh," you softly said. "Yes. That's alright."

"Then follow me," he said. "Do you trust me?"

You smiled sincerely for one of the first times in the evening. Did you trust him? What kind of foolish question was that? If you had the chance, you'd do whatever he'd ask of you. You found your answer rather quickly, knowing within yourself that it was far truer than any other statement you had ever uttered.

"With all the power in Oz."