#and the feeling of beig grateful to own and learn what you worked hard for

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Undercover | Mob!Steve Rogers

I saw this post  by @rosierose-e​ and got inspired to write this mob! Steve Rogers smut. All mistakes are my own. 

ALSO THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS! Love you all and appreciate the support immensely! Thank you :) 

Warning: Smut!!! NSFW choking, cockwarming, swearing

Part Two

Word Count: 5k

You squinted as you looked at yourself in the mirror. The weight of the false lashes a foreign feeling on your eyes. You felt like a clown. This was not you at all. You wore the basics: some foundation, concealer, blush, mascara and if you were really feeling fancy a lip gloss. But nothing heavy. One, your skin was unforgiving and if you went heavier than the BB cream you used you would have pimples for days. Two, in your line of work heavy makeup just wasn’t ideal. 

“Wow, you look amazing.” You looked up in the mirror to see the rookie Peter Parker getting into the van behind you. Peter was sweet, a little naive, but a good agent nonetheless. He had joined the force about three months ago and Director Fury had insisted he learn from the best, so now he was your partner for the remainder of the year. 

“Thanks, Pete.” You sighed as you straightened up, pulling the hem of the skin tight black dress down only to have it bunch up again. “I feel ridiculous.” 

“Well you don’t look it.” He handed you a cup of coffee and you took it with a grateful smile. You needed all the caffeine you could get tonight. 

Tonight you were going undercover at the notorious Red White and Blue Gala hosted by none other than notorious mob boss Steve Rogers. It was his lame attempt and pretending to be an upstanding citizen but hosting an event in honor of the men and women in service. A good cause but for a bad reason. It was rumored that more than just helpful charity happened at this event. 

 You and the rest of your team had been tailing Rogers for close to two years. Trying to get anything to tie the bastard down to all the crimes you knew his organization was behind. But he was good at his job. Leaving no trace evidence that could link any of the nefarious acts back to him. 

He was a cocky son of a bitch and you wanted to be the one to nail him. 

Peter glanced down at the watch on his wrist before clapping his hands together. “Almost showtime, partner.” 

You felt your hands get clammy as the nerves started to wrack your body. You had done undercover work before in the last seven years you’ve been a part of the force but there was something different about this one. Something more dangerous. Steve Rogers was a dangerous man. 

You turned back to the mirror and fixed your hair and makeup one last time before letting out a long breath. You again tried to pull down the hem of the dress but with no avail. You wanted badly to be mad at the catering company that you had been able to infiltrate but you knew that this was probably the work of Rogers. Sick bastard. 

You slipped on the four inch heels they gave you and you nearly stumbled into Peter as you tried to take a step. Heels. Another thing not usually worn in your line of business. 

“Okay, this is a listening device.” Peter explained as he pinned a small but beautiful butterfly pin on your right breast. You couldn’t help but chuckle as his hands fumbled as he accidentally grazed over where your nipple would be. “Sorry.” 

“It’s a boob, Parker. It’s fine.” Peter just nodded before finishing pinning it. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “It’ll be recording everything that we need and coming right back here to my feed in the van. It’s small enough that it won’t get detected by any scanners. Unfortunately we won’t be able to communicate but if you say ‘pineapple’ we’ll come in and get you out.” 

“Pineapple.” You said more to yourself than to Peter. 

“Pineapple. And I mean, Y/N. Anything starts to get fishy you get out of there. Roger’s is ruthless.” 

“I know.” You patted his shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for me, rook.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He pushed you out the van. “Kick ass, partner.” 

You gave him a small salute before turning around and following another group of girls dressed just like you into the expansive mansion in front of you. 

You tried not to be too awestruck as you took in the structure of the building. It looked like something out of an old mystery novel. The entire place was dark. Dark wood and dark furniture. The lights all a dimmed tan light that fed into the mysterious atmosphere. Your eyes darted to the artwork that littered the wall, all depictions of a fall from grace. 

Is that how you see yourself, Rogers? A fallen angel? 

“Hey!” You snapped back to attention as a frantic voice called over to you. “What the hell are you doing? Get to the kitchen.” 

You bit your tongue as you glared at the rude man before following the rest of the women into the kitchen. 

Dressed all like you, there were probably about twenty other women there. All of them easily could have been supermodels. The rude man pushed you towards a group of about three of them who were all balancing drinks on a tray. 

“Grab one and go.” The man, Stan you gathered from his nametag, said before turning to another group of women. You picked up a tray and prayed to all powers in the universe that the combination of full glasses of wine and these heels didn’t cause you to completely embarrass yourself. 

The ballroom was huge. You suddenly felt very small as you wandered around the room, offering drinks to some of New York’s most high profile residents. You kept your eyes peeled for the familiar mob boss. Your heart rate sped up as you noticed him across the room, chatting with a beautiful woman. You watched as he leaned down and whispered something to her, causing her to blush before playfully pushing his shoulder. He just smirked before turning his attention to the man on the other side of him-Clint Barton, completely ignoring her now, but she still stayed by his side watching his every move. 

Pathetic. 

You had to get to him. Get him alone and get him talking. But how? 

“Well aren’t you the prettiest thing in the room.” You felt yourself stiffen as a pair of hands wandered down your back and rested on your hip. The smell of expensive cologne attacking your senses. 

Slowly you turned around to find James “Bucky” Barnes looking at you like a predator to its prey. Bucky, was Steve’s right hand man. His best friend. He was handsome. Dark hair, even darker blue eyes and a smirk, that if he was anyone else, would have your panties melted off before you could even blink. You glanced down at the infamous metal arm that was hidden underneath an expensive suit jacket, but his hand flexed slightly as he noticed you looking at it. 

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” You forced out. “Can I offer you a drink?” You pushed the tray between the two of you in offering and also creating more space. 

“No, I’m all set, doll.” He raised his glass of scotch. “Just wanted to talk to a pretty thing like you.” 

“There are plenty of other beautiful women here.” You said, your voice slightly cold. You hoped he would get the hint. 

“None quite like you.” He smirked and you fought everything in you to roll your eyes. 

“Does that line actually work?” 

Bucky took a step back at your bluntness. You see out of the corner of your eye, Rogers and Barton start to head towards the door. You had to make a move, because if he left to go do business he might not come back down for a while. 

“It was nice talking to you, Mr. Barnes.” You quickly moved past him, ignoring his short “wait”. You rushed, but not too obviously, towards where Steve was heading. If you went fast enough you could cut him off. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you tripped over your heels, the tray in your hand shooting forward and the glasses of red wine landing square on Steve Rogers’ suit. 

“What the fuck?” The room went silent at his angry outburst. You stumbled as you tried to stand up, but were immediately hoisted up when his large hands wrapped around the tops of your arms. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” You sputtered. For a moment you forgot where you were. Why you were here. His blue eyes, dark with fury, scanned your face as he held your arms. You had never really taken a good look at him. All pictures in his file weren’t anything special or high definition. But now, seeing him up close? You were beginning to understand the woman from earlier giddiness. 

He was beautiful. 

You bit your lip as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. You suddenly felt very aware of your body and the fact that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. 

“Go.” He pushed you towards the door he had been walking to with Barton. You walked through the door with shaky legs as you heard him mutter something to Barton before following you. 

“Sir, I’m so-” 

“Shut up.” He growled as he stepped through the door, the heavy wood slamming shut behind him. “Walk.” 

You hesitated. You didn’t know where he wanted you to walk to. Grumbling, Steve once again pushed you forward and you just started walking down the hallway. As you walked down you noticed a door that was slightly ajar. You glanced in while walking past and took note of the firearms and drugs that were very obviously there.

“Keep. Walking.” Steve’s voice was harsh in your ear before you heard him slam the door shut. 

“Yes, sir.” you muttered. 

The two of you continued to walk until you made it to the room at the end of the hall. Tentatively you opened it, waiting for any different direction, but Steve remained silent behind you so you continued. 

The room was...different. It was very different from the dark vibe of the rest of the house. There was a large bay window to your left that overlooked the back of the house that homed a large garden and pool. The walls were painted a soft beige and the furniture a lighter wood than the rest of the house. Even the bed was covered in a white duvet that looked like a cloud just waiting to be jumped on. It was homey. It was nice. 

“Mr. Rogers-” 

“Who do you work for?” He demanded, shutting the door. 

You froze. You tried hard to make sure your face didn’t give away anything as he stared you down. You didn’t let your gaze falter as he stalked closer to you. 

“Lee’s Catering.” You answered earnestly. 

“Bullshit.” He was now only a foot away from you. His broad shoulders heaving as he raked you up and down. “I know every single girl that works for Stan. I’ve never seen you before. So answer me again and honestly this time. Who the fuck do you work for?” 

“So he’s not allowed to hire new girls?” You snapped, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. 

Fuck. 

“Watch your tone with me, sweetheart. You’re on very thin ice right now.” He closed the final gap between the two of you and you gasped when his hand went around your throat, but not tightening enough to cut off any oxygen. 

“That old bat isn’t allowed to hire anyone that I haven’t vetted.” He hissed in your ear. You shuttered as the vibrato of his voice sent shivers straight down to your core. 

“Please.” Your voice came out in a whisper as your eyes pleaded with him. 

Steve opened his mouth but nothing came out, his nose brushed along the curve of your neck and you sucked in a breath as his mouth latched onto the sensitive spot underneath your jaw. 

“Strip.” He commanded, pushing you back causing you to fall onto the bed. 

“What?” 

“Take off your fucking clothes so I can see if you’re wired.” He snapped. You slowly pulled at the hem of your dress before drawing it up your body and over your head. Before you could fully get it off he stopped you. Your heart stopped as he reached over to the butterfly pin and pulled it off the dress. You watched in horror as he walked to his door, opening it and calling out to someone at the end of the hall. 

“Yeah boss?” You tried to see him, but Steve’s frame was blocking the small opening in the door. 

“Take this and run a test. Let me know if it’s bugged.” He demanded before closing the door. When he turned around he raised an expectant eyebrow at you letting you know you still had to take off the dress. You resumed your actions and turned your face away when his eyes flared at the matching set of red lingerie you had on underneath. 

“See? No wires.” You whispered. 

Steve didn’t say anything as he stalked towards you, rolling up the sleeves to the dress shirt he had on. Your body flushed as he leaned over you, his strong arms resting on either side of your chest. Slowly, he moved on hand to the strap of your bra before lowering it down off your shoulder. His thumb brushed over your pebbling nipple and you wanted to smack the smirk that formed on his face straight off. 

“I better double check you’re not hiding anything anywhere.” He muttered before pulling the cup of your bra down, exposing your left breast. You shuttered as his thumb brushed over it again, this time with no barrier. His mouth was hot as wrapped his lips around the bud, causing you to let out an unwilling moan. Your hips bucked up as his tongue expertly ran over your nipple. His deftly unclipped your bra and moved his mouth to your other breast and continued the same assault. His hands moved down to your hips to steady them from bucking against his growing member. 

“Hmm, looks like we’re clear up here.” He chuckled as his lips moved up to your jaw before capturing your mouth with his. 

The kiss was fiery and embarrassingly so sent a wave of pleasure down to your aching core. You moaned into the kiss as you ran your fingers through his hair, giving it a tight tug. Steve growled at your movements as he fully leaned into you now, his muscular thighs trapping yours on the bed. 

You ran your tongue along his bottom lip before slipping it in to find his own. You nearly came as Steve moaned into your mouth, his hands tightening on you and pulling you up to meet his rutting hips. Using all your strength you spun the two of you around, your mouths still connected, so you were now straddling his pelvis. You pulled away from the kiss and sat up. 

Steve slowly opened his eyes, his pupils blown in desire as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. You began to unbutton his wine stained shirt, running your hands over his porcelain skin when it was fully opened. You traced your fingers over the tattoos that littered his abs and ribs. You took pleasure in the fact that Steve would shiver with every pass of your fingertip. 

“I’m sorry about the stain, Mr. Rogers.” You said innocently, leaning down, your breasts pushed together as they rested on his now bare chest. 

“You should be, princess.” His voice was deep. You let out a small yelp as one of his hands gave a harsh slap to your ass. “This is an expensive shirt. And don’t even get me started on the trousers.” 

You hummed in understanding as you gave tiny kisses across his jaw and neck, taking time to suck on the skin around his collarbone. Your hands wandered down his body till they came in contact with the trousers in question. Slowly you sat up, running your hands over the stain on his pants but your eyes never leaving his. 

“I hope you can get the stain out.” You licked your lips as you moved your body down his own until your face was directly by his crotch and the stain. You sucked on the stain near his cock and smiled when his member jumped in his briefs. You slowly pulled down his pants until he was just in his underwear, his cock trying so hard to break free from it’s confines. 

Steve groaned as you finally freed his aching member. You gave the tip a little kitten lick as you looked up at him. He was now resting his weight on his arms as he leaned back and watched you in absolute wonder. You brushed your thumb across the tip, dragging the precum that had gathered there down the rest of his shaft. Your mouth watered at the thought of having him in your mouth. But you wanted to torture him a bit more. 

You ran your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock, while your hand squeezed lightly at the base. You wrapped your lips around the tip, your tongue playing with the slit there before pulling back with a pop. 

“Mhmm, tasty.” You continued treating him like your own personal lollipop, but never fully enveloping his dick in your mouth. 

“Sweetheart, either fucking suck it like I know you can or I’ll shove it down your fucking throat.” Steve wrapped your hair into a makeshift ponytail and forced your head up. “Got it?” 

You didn’t respond, instead you finally took him into your mouth. You pushed past your gag reflex and took him all the way in until your nose brushed against the hairs on his naval. 

“Oh fuck.” Steve’s voice praised as he started moving his hips, fucking his cock down the back of your throat. 

Your eyes watered as you let him use your throat as his own little fuck toy. You reached between your legs trying to relieve the tension that was building there. You moaned around his cock as your fingers toyed with your clit. 

“Shit, I wanna come in that fucking pussy.” He moaned as he pulled you off the floor and threw you back on the bed. You laid back, your fingers moving back to your clit as you watched him fully take off his clothes. He watched you with interest as you moved your lace panties to the side and slid a finger up your slit, gathering your juices before gently rubbing your clit again. He ran his hands up your legs before grabbing your hand and stopping your actions. 

“This,” He patted harshly against your pussy and you moaned at the sensation. “Is mine. Don’t touch, unless I tell you to.” 

“Yes, sir.” You moaned as his fingers replaced yours. Your back arched as he dipped one finger into your hole. 

“Fuck, baby. When was the last time somebody fucked this little cunt? You’re so fucking tight, baby.” He moaned, watching as your pussy greedily closed around his finger. 

“You’re gonna feel so good around my cock, sweetheart.” Steve’s eyes met yours and for a moment he looked like a man that you might actually want to be with. His cold exterior was gone and replaced with a man who was just as lustfully lost as you were. 

“I want your cock now. Please.” you cried out as he slipped another finger in. Your body bucking as he curled his fingers up hitting that spot that so few had been able to get to with you. 

“Yeah? My little slut wants daddy’s cock to fill her up?” He leaned over you, capturing your lips again. You moaned into his mouth at his words. You never admitted it to anyone but you always had a little bit of a daddy kink. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure crashed over you. 

“Please, daddy.” You whimpered against his lips as your hips bucked against his. “Please fuck me.” 

Steve chuckled darkly, kissing you quickly again, before ripping your panties clean off your body. You didn’t even care that he just ruined the most expensive pair of underwear you owned. You just needed his cock in you now. 

You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched him lineup his cock with your dripping hole, slowly pushing the head into your tight channel. You both let out moans as he bottomed out. He fell forward, his forehead resting against yours. You whined as you tried to move your hips against his but he just forced them down with his hands. 

“Steve!” You all but screamed. “Please.” 

“Patience, baby.” He said through gritted teeth. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight. Squeezing daddy’s cock so good. I just need a minute.” 

You let out a humph as you continued to buck your hips against his. 

“What the fuck did I just say?” He growled, he leaned up and wrapped his hand around your throat. “Don’t be a fucking brat.” 

You opened your mouth to apologize but it was overtaken as you let out a yelp as he pulled himself out before slamming his cock back into you. You threw your head back as he fucked into you relentlessly, his hand tightening around your throat. You were in a state of euphoria as his cock dragged in and out of your walls. 

“Oh my god.” You mewl as he continues to completely destroy your pussy. Before you could process what’s happening, Steve flips you over so your face is pushed into the fluffy comforter. He pulls your hips back so your ass is in the air and he easily slides back into you. 

“Tight little cunt fucking loves my cock.” You cry out as his hand delivers a slap against your ass before moving to your hips and pushing you back onto his dick. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot. 

“Daddy!” You call out. Steve leans over and pulls you up by your neck, causing your back to be flush with his front as he fucks up into you. His other hand moves down to play with your clit. 

“Are you gonna come baby girl? I feel your pussy milking my cock. You wanna come?” He growls in your ear. “Huh? You wanna come all over my cock?” 

“Yes! Oh god, yes!” 

“I’m so close, princess.” He drops his head into the crook of your neck. “Come on, baby. Squeeze my cock, make daddy come with you.” 

You feel that familiar feeling in your tummy as your orgasm approaches. 

“Shit.” You breathe out as your orgasm gets closer and closer. Steve’s fingers move faster against your clit. You cry out as your orgasm finally crashes over you. Steve lets out a groan as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, his cum shooting inside your walls. 

“You feel so good.” He breathes as his orgasm dies down. You hum in agreement but you’re too tired to say anything else. You close your eyes as you feel Steve lower your both to the bed. You whimper as he pulls out of you. 

“I’ll be right back.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you just give him a nod. You’re completely incoherent. Totally fucked out. He’s gone for a couple minutes and you hear the water in the bathroom running before he comes back. With your eyes closed you don’t see how he pauses at the side of bed, appreciating the curves of your body as you curled yourself under one of his many blankets. 

You whine as you feel him move the blanket before running a washcloth between your legs. “Steve?” 

“Yes, princess?” You hate that your stomach flutters at the nickname. 

“Don’t leave.” You mutter, closing your eyes once more. 

Steve doesn’t respond for a second and at first you think that he’s going to leave but then you feel the bed dip and a strong arm pulling you close. You smile to yourself as your hand lands on top of his. 

“Get some rest.” He whispers in your ear. 

“Mmkay.” you hum and you don’t know if it’s your imagination or not but you swore you felt Steve smile against your skin. 

You wake with a jolt. You glance at the clock and curse silently. You’ve been asleep for two hours. You turn over and see Steve still there, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. You find yourself staring at his long eyelashes and how they rest gently along the tops of his cheek. He doesn’t look like a scary mob boss here. He looks human. He looks peaceful. 

“I can feel you staring.” Steve opens one eye and gives you a small smile. “Like what you see?” 

You gasp as he grabs you and has you straddle his hips. You rest your hands easily on his chest and stare down at him, smirking as you feel his cock start to stir. 

“Hmmm, I love these.” His hands reach up and twist at your nipples causing you to bite back a moan. 

“Steve…” 

“And your pussy is so responsive to me, princess. It’s like it was made for me.” He rubs his thumb across your clit. “I can feel how wet you are again.” 

“Well you’re playing with my clit. Of course I’m gonna get wet.” You retort. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at you. “You really think being sassy is in your best interest?” 

You roll your eyes but don’t respond. Steve grumbles before lifting you up a bit and impaling you on his now hard cock. 

“Fuck!” You slap his chest and Steve chuckles. Nonetheless you start rocking your hips against his. 

“Nuh uh,” Steve tuts. He holds your hips still. “You’re just gonna sit here like this. Keep me nice and warm.” 

“Steveeee.” You whine, lowering your head to his chest. 

“Don’t be such a brat then.” He growls. You raise your head to look at him and even though his words are tough, his eyes are soft. And for a moment your taken back. “So sit still for daddy.” 

You groan but stay still. Steve runs his fingers up and down your back, tracing patterns along your skin and you hum in appreciation. Your peaceful moment is upended though when his phone rings on the nightstand next to him. 

“Rogers.” He answers quickly. You stay quiet as you hear the voice on the other end of the line talk about the product movement. You smirk to yourself as Steve begins to discuss logistics, completely ignoring your presence. 

“I’m a little busy, Stark.” Tony Stark? As in Mayor of the city Tony Stark? He was in on this too. “I’ll call you back.” Steve threw his phone back on the nightstand and brought your face up to his to pull you into a searing kiss. 

“Please, daddy?” You say against his lips. You start rocking your hips again and this time, Steve doesn’t stop you. 

You're a moaning mess as Steve’s hips snap up yours, your orgasm fast approaching. 

“Gonna cum already?” 

“Yes, yes! Oh god, I’m so close!” You breathe as he quickens his pace. 

“Cum, baby girl. Make a mess on daddy.” He groans, his head tipping back. 

“Steve!” You choke out as your body spasms with pleasure. Steve comes quickly after you and you shutter as you feel his seed leaking out of your worn out hole. 

You lay your head down on his chest again and try to gather your thoughts. You need to get out of here. 

“I should go.” You whisper, sitting up. Steve’s cock is still inside you and you almost don’t want to leave because you feel so full. 

“I wanna see you again.” He runs his fingers across your cheek. The sense of power you feel seeing the country’s biggest mob boss underneath you, drunk on your sex is overwhelming. You love the feeling. 

“You will. Soon.” You lean down and give him a deep kiss. “I promise.” You peck his lips once more before gathering your clothes from the floor. 

Slipping on your shoes you give him one last wink before hurrying out the door and down the hall. You manage to find a way to the kitchen without having to walk through the rest of the party and you sneak out behind a delivery man who brought in a ridiculously large ice sculpture. 

Once you're outside you take your heels off and run towards the van down the street. You hurriedly knock on the back, checking your surroundings to make sure no one sees you. Peter opens the door and he looks like he’s seen a ghost when he sees you. 

“Y/N!” He pulls you into the van. “Oh my god, I was getting worried. When we heard him say that he wanted to check the pin I had to turn off the devices so they wouldn’t get traced. And then you didn’t come out. But Fury said that you would be fine but man, I was so nervous and-”

“Parker, shut up and hand me a piece of paper.” You clapped your hands together, pulling him out of his ramble. Peter nodded and handed you a pen and paper watching intently as you started writing down everything you overheard on the phone call. 

“What is this?” 

“Rogers is working with Stark and they're moving some sort of product tomorrow.” You said proudly.

“How did you...this is huge!” 

“My Ma always said that there are two ways to get to a man. One is through his stomach and the other is in his pants.” You shrugged. 

“And I’m guessing you didn’t make him a grilled cheese sandwich.” Peter makes a face. 

“Not exactly.” You laugh. “Now let’s go. We gotta get this to Fury.” 

Part 2

[kiyoomeii]

strawberry shortcake / f!reader x l lawliet / wc: 1.5k

lake scene, knee deep in the stars / this simple season is all ours, yeah / “simple season” by hippo campus

a/n: for the past four days i’ve only been thinking about soft!l lawliet and how much i want to lay in his lap someone pls pay my bail from simp jail  also! ayy first one shot ig??

cw: the use of the word ‘shit’ three times, kissing, very self indulgent, no editing just grammarly lol

Today will be one of the few times you two have gone out together since L is meticulous about keeping his identity private, and you’re grateful for the change of scenery. Instead of being cooped up in his hotel of the week, you’re out wandering a botanical garden in Tokyo. Of course, Watari made all the arrangements for the park to be conveniently closed to the public that day, but still, it’s the thought that counts.

In your left hand is a wicker basket filled with food, and your right pinky looped around L’s left pinky. As you walk through the garden, the fresh smell of flowers fills your noses and the sunshine filters through the cumulus clouds, causing droplets of sweat to collect on your back.

With anyone else, such extended periods of silence would be uncomfortable, but with L, it feels like home.

You feel a tug of resistance on your pinky and turn back to see L engrossed in a flowering tree. “What’s that?” You join him in inspecting the tree, clutching his dangling arm tight to yours and resting your head on his hunched shoulders.

“It’s a Magnolia Stellata, or Star Magnolia. I’m surprised they’re still in bloom right now.” L makes no effort to explain himself, instead opting to put a finger to his lip.

“Because…?” With your head still on his shoulder, you look up at him expectantly. He often makes statements like that without explaining himself since he assumes that everyone else knows what he’s talking about. It used to bother you when you first met, but you’ve learned that it’s just because his mind is moving a hundred miles a minute. Now, you just ask him to elaborate, and it surprisingly doesn’t bother him. When other people ask him questions that he thinks are blatantly obvious, he grows annoyed but masks it in his voice by scrunching the toes of his left foot. But with you, he never does that. Instead, he’s patient and kind. You can see it in his eyes.

“Because they are particularly susceptible to frost damage and we had a handful of very cold days this March,” he answers coolly. Where he stores this knowledge about flowers native to Tokyo despite him being from England, you will never know, but you’re thankful for the information regardless.

“Oh, I see. Thank you," you sigh. Together, you stand marveling at the light pink flowers and feeling the breeze on your backs, which causes L’s hair to sweep over your face. He quickly brushes it away for you with his free hand.

“And don’t worry, y/n, it’s not wilting; the petals are just wavy like that.” He gently tugs his arm away from you to signal that he’d like to move on, and once you release him, he takes your hand in his and leads you through the garden.

It has taken L a while to become comfortable with you enough to initiate contact first, but you’re glad that he can now. When you first began dating, things were uncomfortably stiff. You have the habit of word vomiting any time there’s too long of a pause, and L has a habit of withdrawing into his thoughts, so the first few months of dating was just a lot of you oversharing and him just listening.

You didn’t actually think he was paying attention until one day you mentioned how as a child you carried around a stuffed animal, which you affectionately named Ollie the Otter, and lost it on holiday in the US with your family. Within just three days, he bought you the exact same version of your beloved childhood stuffie. You had long since grown out of your stuffed animal phase but were touched nonetheless that he put in the effort to find you the toy, proving that he cares about you in his own way.

Ollie Jr. now sits on L's bed, always tucked under his comforter as if it’s sleeping. Sometimes, though, when L is up late at night doing work, he will wedge the otter between his knees that are pulled up to his chest and rest his chin on it so that he can smell the traces of your perfume on it. He would never admit to it, but you’ve silently watched him work many times before to know that it wasn’t just a one-time occasion.

“Would you like to stop here, y/n?” L gestures to a patch of manicured grass under the shade of a cherry blossom tree.

“Sure. Will you help me lay out the blanket?” You untangle your fingers from him to open the picnic basket you have been carrying. Truthfully, you were relieved that he wanted to stop because the basket had become increasingly heavier throughout your walk. L nods and waits for you to give him an edge of the beige checkered linen blanket so that you can place it down on the grass. As soon as it’s laid out, L splays himself out on it and watches you unpack the food.

His mouth is nearly frothing at the sweets that you place at the edge of the blanket. “I know, I brought your favorite: strawberry shortcake,” you pause to look back at him with his mouth slightly agape. “But you gotta wait until everything’s ready.” Suddenly aware of himself,  L obediently closes his mouth.

At last, you sit across from L with a plate for you to share. L’s eyes grow wide as he reaches for a piece of cake until you swat it away. “Hey,” you coo in a sing-songy voice, “not so fast….” You take the fork out of his hand and cut off a small piece of cake as you feel L’s jet black eyes intensely study your movements. Silently, you lift the fork up towards L’s mouth. “Open,” you say sweetly, waiting for him to comply, which he does quickly. With a smile, you gently feed the cake to L and watch as he closes his eyes in bliss.

One part of L is telling him to be alarmed at the obvious loss of control he’s experiencing, but the other is telling him to relax and allow you to take control of the situation. As he quickly calculates the outcomes of each choice, he realizes that you’ll probably get your way anyway and that it’s no use to object. “’S it good, L?” He opens his eyes to see you watching him intently and nods. “Good, I’m glad. Now gimme a bite, will you?” A sly smile spreads across your face as you pass the other fork to him and wait for him to give you a piece.

The two of you pass some time taking bites of cake, feeding each other strawberries, and talking about random things—from the way L doesn’t like the way the grass pokes his skin to how you’re excited to finally be done with university in a few weeks. Finally, you lie down beside him and situate your head on his chest while his lean fingers languidly massage your scalp. Your breathing quickly syncs together and your chests rise and fall like waves lapping the shore.

“I’m glad we got to go out today. Thank you, y/n.” L picks up your hand resting on your belly and gives it a quick kiss. L had been working on a particularly difficult case for the past few months, which had just wrapped up, so the two of you hadn’t been able to see each other much lately.

“You’re welcome,” you rolled over onto your stomach to face L. “And thank you too. I know how hard it is for you to go into public, but I’m glad to know that you’d do it for me.” You watch as a quick smile paints L’s face, and at that moment, you feel your heart bursting with affection towards him.

“Of course I would, y/n, and I’d do it again, too.” His normally ivory-colored face flushed with color, causing him to turn away from you out of embarrassment.

“L?” He senses you staring at him and slowly meets your gaze again.

“Yes?” His onyx eyes catch yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he replies, not skipping a beat. You smile as you pepper a few kisses on his jawline towards his lips and when finally your lips meet, he presses into you more firmly than you expected. His technique is a little sloppy, but you know he’s trying. When he’s like this, trying to show you his affection instead of explaining it, he’s like a puppy who wants your attention, and who are you to refuse?

“L, I—" you say in between passionate kisses, “love you.” He immediately pulls away from you to study your facial expression. Oh shit oh shit oh shit maybe this wasn’t a good time I shouldn’t have—

“I love you, too.” He responds quickly, pulling you into another series of needy kisses.

With the whole park empty, you don’t have to hide your affection for each other, and oh, how you wish it could be like this all the time.

[castleshadows]

Baby Fever

When Casteel and Poppy go to meet Kieran's new little sister, Casteel underestimates just how much seeing his wife with a baby will affect him.

18+ Content: Smut

Requested by Anonymous

Written May 28, 2021

Kieran’s new baby sister was one of the most loved babies Casteel had ever seen. Practically the entirety of Evaemon was in and out of the Contou residence, bringing presents and good words, or just a request to hold the little girl. She wasn’t even six months old, and yet she had a collection of toys so large he doubted it would all fit in one room. He supposed that was what happened when you were born a Contou. The whole family was famously one of the warmest households in Atlantia, and the children had been adored by all from the moment they entered the world.

Currently, however, the large town house was empty save for he, Poppy, and the Contous themselves. The house was quiet, their footsteps the only sound as Poppy followed him down the long hallway. He made several turns, so many that his wife looked like she was about to kick something. Hopefully not him. But then again… He wouldn’t be entirely opposed to it.

Casteel reached back and gripped Poppy’s hand, tugging her to walk alongside him. He threaded his fingers through hers, meeting her eyes as he brought their joined hands up to his lips, giving the back of Poppy’s fingers a slight kiss. He relished the way she blushed, the pink spreading across her cheeks and overpowering the slight dusting of freckles across her nose. Her emerald eyes glinted brightly from the sunlight pouring through the window behind them, and as always, the light of the eather shone behind her pupils.

Today, she was yet again wearing that deep blue dress that had become a favorite of hers. The first time he’d seen her in it had damn near knocked him off of his feet, and it was no different when she’d stepped out of the closet this morning. His eyes freely perused her body, and her sweet scent heightened, the familiar smell of honeydew wafting towards his nose. Casteel smirked, the corner of his lip peeling up to reveal the tip of a fang. Poppy glanced at it and then to the side at the dimple that had no doubt formed in his cheek.

“Whenever you two are done…”

Poppy’s eyes shifted away from him to glance at Kieran, who was leaning against the wall several yards away. The door next to him was cracked open and Casteel could hear the sounds of quiet conversation drifting through the opening. A baby’s laugh sounded in the near silence and Casteel smiled.

He hadn’t been around when Netta was born, having been taken the month before. He hadn’t gotten to meet her until she was well into adulthood. As the Prince of Atlantia, he’d held many babies before. Some willingly, others practically shoved into his hands as their parents stood by, eyes filled with giddy excitement. However, being the Dark One had been a full time job, and playing with children hadn’t exactly been at the top of his priority list.

“Sorry Kieran,” Poppy said, practically sauntering towards the door, though her smile told him that she was not even remotely sorry. Casteel couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t either.

“You don’t sound sorry at all,” Kieran echoed dryly. He didn’t say anything more, only held open the door as Poppy passed through.

As Casteel made to follow her inside, Kieran put a hand on his shoulder, a knowing look spreading across his face. What the wolven thought he knew was beyond Casteel. Kieran only smirked and patted his back, sending him inside after Poppy.

He probably would’ve been weirded out had he not been used to it by now. It seemed that Kieran liked confusing people with vague statements or looks that no one could understand

The nursery was brightly lit, several windows lining the walls and letting in the soft afternoon sunlight. Kirha and Jasper sat on a plush rug, the former leaning back against her husband’s chest as he raked his fingers through her hair. The baby sat against her mother’s stomach, chewing on her little fist and waving the other hand around in the air as she cooed. At five and a half months she already undoubtedly resembled her family. Her hair was a bright silver, and curled in short strands on top of her head. Her eyes were the ice-blue of the wolven and her skin the same shade as Kieran’s, a dark brown-beige.

Poppy had stopped just in front of him and was also staring at the little girl, her face a mixture of awe and awww. Casteel chuckled, and moved to sit on the carpet, bringing Poppy to do the same.

Kieran came up behind them and handed Casteel a drink. He offered one to Poppy, but she didn’t seem to see it, so he set it on the side table instead.

“How are you two?” Kirha asked once everyone was settled in, “I know it’s been a difficult few months for both of you, and I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to come check on you Cas.”

Her gaze was loving and concerned and felt like a hot mug of tea on a cold night. Kirha had always been like a second mother to Casteel and he was extremely grateful for her naturally kind nature. He loved his own mother to death, but she didn’t have the same warm feeling that Kirha did.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, taking a sip of his drink, “And I’m fine, really.”

Kirha gave him that look that meant she knew he was lying, but she seemed to sense that he didn’t want to talk about it and backed off.

His time spent with the Ascended had always been a sensitive subject. He didn’t like to talk about it, for doing so always brought back memories he’d worked hard to bury. This recent capture was no different.

Casteel shoved any thoughts of the Ascended to the back of his mind, instead focusing on the present, something he’d learned to do many years ago.

“Well I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said, turning her attention back to her daughter who was now chewing on the hem of Kirha’s shirt. She patiently wrestled the fabric from the girl’s mouth, and gave her a wooden rattle instead. Immediately the room was filled with the sound of wooden beads clacking against each other.

“Sorry,” Kirha said, adjusting herself to better face them, “She just started teething.”

“Already?” Casteel asked in surprise. Usually wolven pup’s teeth didn’t start growing in until around seven or eight months old.

“We were surprised too,” Jasper replied, “Sabel’s been a quick developer so far, though the Healers predict she will slow down soon. She’s been the fastest of all our children so far.”

“Who was the slowest?” Poppy blurted out. Kieran sighed, and Casteel could vaguely hear him complaining under his breath about random questions. He only smiled, amused by his wife’s random curiosity. Kieran them muttered the word stupid.

Not taking his eyes off of his wife he punched Kieran in the shin to get him to shut up. It worked.

Kirha laughed, “Kieran definitely,” Jasper nodded his agreement, “He was extremely content to take his time with everything, including during labor. I almost swore off children after that.”

“Oh gods Mother, not again,” Kieran complained and Casteel laughed, knowing Kirha was probably about to launch into the story of all the things the Healers tried to coax Kieran out into the world.

Instead she only leaned back more fully against Jasper and smiled at her eldest’s pained expression. “Don’t worry, that story is for dinner guests only.”

“Well maybe we’ll have to stay for dinner then,” Poppy said innocently, and Kieran glared at her.

Sabel made another cooing sound and Poppy glanced towards the baby.

“What did you say her name was again?” She asked Kirha.

“Sabel,” the wolven responded as Sabel threw her wooden rattle across the floor, continuing to chew on her knuckles when she realized it was gone.

Jasper snorted, grabbed the rattle, and handed it back to his daughter who immediately threw it again.

“Can I hold her?”

Kirha nodded, picking the girl up and handing her carefully to Poppy, who looked like she was more scared than excited to hold the little wolven.

Out of the corner of Casteel’s eye, Kieran reached out a hand and tapped his shoulder. He turned and raised a brow, nodding when he read the silent request in the wolven’s eyes. They stood up and dismissed themselves quietly.

“So… How do you like having another sister?” Casteel said when they had moved towards the back of the room.

“I’m nervous, and excited I suppose,” he paused for a moment, “I wasn’t there to watch Vonetta grow up. I mean I was there, but not really.”

Casteel didn’t say anything. It was rare that Kieran talked openly about how he felt, and he’d learned from experience that the wolven would shut down the moment anyone responded. So instead he stood there quietly, watching Poppy as he listened.

Her copper hair had been pulled back into a low ponytail at some point, a style that she had discovered several months ago and had been obsessed with ever since. In her arms was Sabel, who had her tiny little fingers wrapped around two of Poppy’s much larger ones. His wife giggled and the little baby smiled widely, making Poppy’s eyes shine. She carefully wrestled away her fingers, smiling back at the little girl as she covered her face with her hand. Little Sabel reached for the finger she’d had a hold of earlier, but before she could grab them, Poppy revealed her face and quietly booed the little girl. Sabel shrieked with laughter, bringing a smile to Poppy’s face. Casteel’s lips parted at the beautiful expression. She did it again and Sabel laughed even harder, which sent his Queen into a fit of giggles. Kirha and Jasper watched on with fondness, but he barely noticed them as Poppy continued to make the baby laugh. She brought her hand down and tickled Sabel’s small tummy which brought forth another round of frankly adorable laughter.

Poppy moved Sabel so that she sat against her chest and little hands came up to grab a fistful of copper hair. As patiently as a mother would, she pulled the little girl’s hand away, instead letting Sabel grip her thumb. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kirha and Jasper get up to retrieve drinks, but he was unable to take his eyes off of his wife. The whole world seemed to shrink down to her, and suddenly they were no longer standing in the Contou’s town house, but their own chambers. Poppy was sitting on the rug cradling their own baby, with dark copper hair and bright golden eyes. There would be freckles across her nose, and eather in her eyes, and her laugh would be perfect, just like her mothers. She would giggle and smile at everything, and when she grew older she would ask question after question. But, Casteel would never mind. He would answer them all and more, teaching her everything he knew, feeding her curiosity, and encouraging it. He would read her stories and tell her about the lamea, which would piss Poppy off... On second thought maybe he wouldn’t tell her about the lamea. No one really needed to know about a creature with fins for legs and tails for arms. With that thought, the vision popped like a bubble and fell away, revealing reality once again.

Poppy no longer sat on the rug. Instead she was near Kirha, handing her a wriggling wolven pup.

“I should’ve warned you, sorry about that” Kirha was saying, “She was pretty calm today so I figured she wouldn’t shift too much, but it was bound to happen eventually.”

“It’s no problem,” Poppy replied, “It just took me by surprise that’s all.”

“Casteel?”

A hand waved in front of his face and Casteel jerked, suddenly remembering that Kieran was still standing beside him.

“Are you done creepily staring at your wife or would you like to continue,” he said dryly, leaning one arm against the wall.

“No I’m done, sorry,” Casteel shifted a bit, trying to assuage the slight heat in his groin. Good gods, was he aroused? That seemed wrong. But then again, the thought of Poppy as a mother, holding a swaddled infant in her hands as they built a family together…

The love in his heart wasn’t the only thing that swelled.

Kieran cast him a knowing look.

“Look Cas. You’re my brother. You know that. But, I swear to the gods if you do not get yourself under control right now I will shove you out a window, because I do not want to have to smell your arousal all day.”

Casteel was about to respond with another apology, when he noticed Poppy making her way over to the two of them.

“Hello,” she said, plucking her previously ignored drink from the side table, and dragging a small wooden chair over to sit in front of them.

Casteel crouched so that they were even, and locked eyes with her, letting his desire show plainly in his gaze. He finished his drink off, smirking as a blush started to creep across Poppy’s cheeks and down towards her breasts.

“Good gods, you two,” Kieran groaned, “Please for fuck’s sake go get a room.”

“I think we’ll do just that, won’t we Poppy?” Casteel raised a brow, holding out his hand and setting his empty glass on the ground.

Poppy placed her smaller hand in his and allowed him to pull her out of the room, even as Kirha asked where they were going.

“We’re not going to have sex here, are we?” Poppy asked, eyeing the door that led to the nursery.

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t know,” she paused, “It feels rude I guess.”

“Not if it’s in my own quarters.” He said, leading her up a flight of stairs.

“You have quarters here?”

“I have quarters pretty much everywhere, Poppy. When you’re a Prince of Atlantia, you tend to rack up a lot of places to stay. Besides, the Contous are like a second family to me. I have designated rooms in pretty much any house they own.”

They stepped into a short hallway, his chambers the fourth door on the right. With every step the anticipation grew, until Casteel was aware of every place they touched. Every piece of skin Poppy’s body brushed up against. He could smell the sweet scent of honeydew coming off of his wife, and his mouth watered. He longed to get his mouth in between Poppy’s thighs. To taste every drop of arousal that coated the inside of her cunt.

His hands shook slightly as he opened the door to his quarters. Poppy started to look around the room, emerald gaze snagging on the various furniture and decorations. Casteel however, wasn’t as patient, tugging at Poppy’s arm to get her to face him.

“What?” she chuckled, the laugh turning into a gasp when Casteel reached a hand to cup her breast.

“I’m sorry to have pulled you out so quickly,” he said, running his finger along the curve of her chest and then in tight circles around her nipple, never quite brushing where she wanted him to. He smirked as she squirmed under his touch. “But seeing you like that… I couldn’t control myself. I needed…” He paused, “I just needed.”

“You always say that,” Poppy replied, “But you never tell me what you need.”

She lifted her hands and ran them across his chest, her fingers making their way down his stomach and stopping at the waistband of his breeches. Each place she touched erupted into goosebumps, and he could feel his pants getting tighter.

“That’s because I don't know what I need, Poppy,” he buried his face in her neck, licking a nipping at the sensitive skin there. She moaned, “My mind is so completely and utterly consumed by you that I’m unable to form another coherent thought.”

He brought a hand up to her cheek, cupping in and then sinking his fingers into her long hair. The other hand he used to deftly untie the thong that was holding her hair in place. Free from their constraints the copper strands fanned out across her back, falling several inches lower.

Poppy took her own hands, and gripped his backside, pulling him to grind against her stomach. He let out a low moan and allowed her to cover his mouth with her own. It wasn’t a soft kiss by any means.

His heart raced as she moved her mouth possessively along his, their lips sliding across each other’s. Their teeth clacked together, tongues meeting. Casteel used her hair to pull her closer, still grinding his cock against her lower abdomen. He ran his tongue lightly across the roof of her mouth, smirking as best he could when she jerked at the sensation. He did it again as he brought his hands to grab the backs of her thighs, pulling her up so that his cock was pressed against her softness. She wrapped her arms around his back pulling him in impossibly closer. Sinking her hands into his hair, she pulled away just long enough to gasp “Bed.”

And then they were on each other again, frantically pulling as clothes, limbs, hair, anything they could reach. Poppy dug her fingers into his backside again, grinding against him. The scents of their combined arousal filled the room. Casteel pushed Poppy back onto the bed, using the monetary separation to grasp the hem of his tunic and pull it off. Poppy’s hands were immediately on him again, tracing the muscles underneath his skin.

They locked eyes just as Poppy did something completely unexpected. She took both of her thumbs and ran them lightly across his nipples. The action sent a series of shivers down his body and straight to his groin. Her swollen lips twisted into a smirk and she did it again.

“Fuck,” Casteel choked out, digging his fingers into the bedsheets.

“You like that?” Poppy asked, her tone less dirty and more genuinely curious if he actually liked it.

“Yes,” she did it again, harder this time, and his eyelids fluttered closed, “Yes I like that.”

Things were slower this time. There was less pulling and grabbing and more slow, seductive, acts. Poppy gripped the waistband of his breeches, slowly popping the buttons open one by one, freeing his cock from it’s constraint. He kicked off the offending fabric, throwing it onto the floor as Poppy’s tongue made its way into his mouth again, pressing against his teeth. He moaned into the kiss, pressing his wife down farther into the mattress as he let his weight settle onto her.

Reaching behind her, he undid the laces on her gown, pulling the cinched bodice down her front and revealing her breasts, the nipples peaked from arousal. Without hesitation, he enveloped one breast in his mouth, while his fingers played with the other one, pressing down in places he knew she liked. He swirled his tongue across her nipple, teasing his fangs on the soft skin. She panted, squirming underneath him. Poppy’s fingers explored his stomach and then lower, brushing up against his cock. He jolted, groaning around her breast. The vibrations seemed to travel straight to her groin and she shuddered beneath him.

“Casteel,” she said, her voice rough, “Oh gods.”

Casteel pulled his head away from her chest, giving each breast one last lick as he moved to focus on the real treat. Running his hands up her thighs, he moved the skirt of her gown to gather around her waist. His nostrils twitched as the scent of honeydew emanated from between her legs. He could see her arousal gathering and the sight of it was enough to send a pulse of pleasure through his body. He grunted, grinding down slightly on the mattress. Poppy lifted her hips towards him, grabbing the back of his head to try and pull him to her.

“Greedy,” he commented, and then buried his mouth between her thighs.

The first lick was heaven, and the second was even better. The taste of her filled his mouth, and the rest of the world fell away. All that was left was his wife, her taste, and the perfect noises she was making as she writhed in her pleasure. He rubbed his tongue between her fold, momentarily slipping it inside her and licking slow and deep.

“Casteel!” she moaned, grinding against his face. He delved deeper into her, the taste of her arousal coating his mouth and coursing down his throat. Her muscles locked up like they always did when she was close.

He rubbed his tongue across her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to—

“Wait.”

He stopped at once, pulling back to make sure she was okay. The word was like a bucket of ice falling over him. His pleasure became completely inferior to the need to make sure his wife was taken care of. Had he hurt her? Did she just need a break?

“I want to try something,” she said istead, and the ice started to melt.

“Okay,” he replied, shifting so that he was above her again, “What do you want to try.”

She grasped his shoulder, pulling him down so that he was laying beside her on the bed. His breathing became shorter as she ran her eyes down his body, and his cock hardened more if that was even possible. The dress was quickly discarded and thrown into a pile on the floor.

Casteel lay there patiently waiting. It was obvious Poppy was nervous, so he didn’t say anything, only let her take the lead.

She came to kneel by him, placing her hands on his hips and then lifting her leg to straddle him backwards, her cunt positioned right above his face. She shifted a bit, bringing her knees up so she was closer to his mouth. Her head was right near his cock and he could feel every breath she took.

“Is this okay?” She asked, her voice muffled, “I don’t want to suffocate you.”

“This is just fine Poppy,” he said as he blatantly stared at the wetness between her thighs, “Perfect actually.”

Her breathing got heavier as he spoke, and just for fun, he blew cold air directly onto her clit. She cursed quietly, jerking at the feeling of the sensation on her most intimate part.

Casteel smiled at her reaction and then let out a loud moan as Poppy enveloped the head of his cock in her warm mouth. He throbbed, resisting the urge to thrust up into her throat. Oral sex was still new to her, and he didn’t want to scare his wife off of the deed forever.

He pulled his attention away from the pleasure slowly rising in his groin, and instead focused on the dinner before him. Casteel blew another breath of air onto her clit, jerking as he felt the responding moan throughout his cock. He used his tongue to circle the bundle of nerves, passing over it as she took him deeper.

He used one hand to grip her thigh, and pull her more fully against his mouth, the other he brought up to her entrance, groaning at the abundance of arousal that had gathered there. Taking his ring finger and middle finger, he teased the entrance, pressing up against it slightly. He felt her clench in response to his touch and he followed that slight suction, sinking two fingers into her tight channel.

The response was almost immediate. She was quite worked up from when he’d almost taken her over the edge just minutes before and he could feel her muscles starting to grow taut again. Similarly, his own muscles tensed, and he could feel his groin get tighter, the feeling growing as Poppy took in more of him.

Wetness surrounded both his cock and his fingers, and it was hard to focus on the task at hand when his wife was so perfectly sucking at his sensitive skin. Casteel could feel her reach a hand downwards, massaging his balls, then going lower, to the small expanse of skin just below. She massaged that too, and something deep inside him was stimulated to the point of almost pain. He moaned into her cunt, the vibrations sending shudders down her body.

Wanting to give her the same amount of pleasure she was gifting him with now, Castel removed his hand from between her legs and replaced it with his mouth, licking and sucking at her clit with renewed vigor. The taste of her filled his every sense until there was nothing but the flavor of honeydew running down his throat.

Poppy gave one more hard suck and pressed down on that expanse of skin, and Casteel exploded. Waves of pleasure shot through him, and he fell off of that cliff at an impressive rate. His cum filled Poppy’s mouth and he could feel her struggle to take it all as she too orgasmed on his tongue. She shuddered one final time, falling limp as he did the same. He gave Poppy a last lick, before gripping her waist and carefully rolling her off of him.

Her limp and sated form fell to the bed, and she stayed like that for several seconds before opening her eyes and giggling.

“What is it?” he asked hauling himself up to come and lay beside her, their feet on top of the pillows.

“Nothing,” she rubbed her thumb across a drop of cum that hadn’t made it into her mouth, “You just taste funny that’s all.”

For a moment Casteel wasn’t able to muster a response. Finally, after several seconds of trying to come up with something to say to that, he burst out laughing, surprising Poppy enough that she jumped.

He struggled to breath, his laughs deep and real. It went on for so long that his stomach hurt, and he gripped it, trying hard to get control of his breathing.

As he gasped for air he looked over at Poppy, whose face was as red as a tomato. She avoided his eyes and muttered a quiet “sorry”.

Casteel immediately felt guilty, pulling Poppy back towards him. Her face was still red, but she allowed him to pull her close and lay his head on her breast. He entangled their legs and then lifted his head to look her in the eyes.

“I’m sorry Poppy, I didn’t mean to laugh.”

“It’s fine I shouldn’t have said that anyway.”

He opened his mouth to tell her it was fine, that he found it more funny than anything else, but she said something else that caught his attention.

“Why did you bring me up here?”

Casteel was silent for a moment, contemplating how best to tell her he’d gotten aroused at the thought of her as a mother. At the thought of them starting a family. Together. They’d never talked about it before, not beyond the contraceptives talk. He didn’t even know if that was something she would want in the future. Children. Their children.

“Cas?” She poked at his face with a finger, “Are you still there?”

“I’m here Princess, sorry,” he replied, grasping her hand in his, “I took you up here because I love you, and the sight of you with little Sabel, brought forth many thoughts that I don’t know if you would approve of.”

“What kind of thoughts,” she sounded suspicious, yet curious.

“You, me, and a child,” he traced the lines on her hand, not daring to look at her expression, “Our child. A family that I hope we’ll one day get to have. Maybe once everything with the Ascended is over.”

Poppy was tense in his arms, and he was tempted to completely retract what he just said. Instead, he sat there, letting her think and relax again before meeting her eyes. Poppy was crying.

“Are you okay?” he cupped her face in his hands, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset—”

“I would love that,” she whispered, taking his hand and kissing the knuckles, “I would love to have a family with you. Not now of course, but once we’re at peace again. If we survive that is.”

She said it lightly, almost as a joke, but Casteel knew that not surviving the coming war was a very real fear of hers.

“We’ll survive,” he reassured her, “We’ll survive and after that we’ll have a family. Two beautiful children.”

“Oh, so you’ve already planned everything out I see,” Poppy teased, running her fingers down his chest.

“I have my Queen,” Casteel snuggled in closer to her, “We’ll have one girl and one boy, and the girl’s name will be Rue because I’ve always liked that name.”

“What about the boy’s name?”

“The boy’s name can be whatever you want, as well as their middle names. You can choose.”

“Ian,” she said without hesitation, “I want to name the boy Ian.”

Casteel nodded, “Then we will name him Ian. And they will be the most perfect children in the world. Better than even Sabel.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” Poppy said, rolling Casteel under her.

“I have no doubt they will exceed my expectations.”

Poppy laughed and then pressed her lips to Casteel’s, pulling him in closer, and positioning herself to grind against his cock—

An angry knock sounded on the door, and several seconds later, Kieran yelled, “You do realize everyone in this house can hear you two moaning in there right?”

[mindfulvenus]

How I View You_LeviHan

To: @tundrainafrica

From: @mindfulvenus

A/n: I loved being your secret santa Sav!! It was so fun to write this and I feel as if Levihan has only grown more on me! Thank you for being such a wonderful giftee!! Merry Christmas and I hope we can continue chatting!

“We leave in two days at the crack of dawn, no exceptions. Am I clear?” All the scouts saluted as Levi’s voice echoed through the cabin. Tomorrow was yet another day that would be spent preparing for battle. There was also the fact that in a couple of days Levi and his squad would have to head out before they were spotted but they needed to get moving anyway.

Levi walked back to the room he would be occupying so that he could clean it up a little. The cabin carried a musty smell with dust particles shining in the atmosphere. He and the rest of his squad was spending a full three nights here in this cabin so might as well make it clean. He seemed a little sluggish in his movements, even wobbly as he waked up the stairs.

A couple hours later of working he was suddely unable to move his hand in a swiping motion. His legs then gave up on him, no longer supporting his weight. Hange went to go check up on him as he’d been up there for quite some time. She saw his form as he looked limp on the floor, until he attempted to stabd up. He used his arms to helped him stay leveled. Levi then started to fall foward again, he was fainting.

All day Hange has been looking out after Levi after she noticed that he almost tripped over himself while he was walking to the kitchen. She knew that Levi was never one to let his guard down and always stayed up late hours making sure no enemies or titans were around us. It was finally leaving a strain on his body.

“Levi, what happened..!” Hange exclaimed as she ran over to help Levi up on the small bed in the room. Hange rested him on the bed sitting up with a pillow to his back. She sat next to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Levi then explains to Hange,

“I’m fine, I just fell. That’s all…” Levi grunted as he attempted to get up. Hange pushed him back down to sit on the bed. By the means of the situation, Levi looked flushed as his cheeks were tinted a light pink. Hange raised her hand to touch his forehead, he pulled back a little but her hand touched it for a second.

“You’re… you're burning up!” Hange got up from the seat next to the bed so that she could get something to help his fever. When she was walking over to the door of the room she ran into a couple of scouts who asked to speak with Levi since they wanted their next orders. Hange told them that captain Levi said to take a rest for the night and wake up refreshed in the morning to work.

Hange went down to retrieve a small towel and bucket filled with warm water. She stammered her way up the stairs spilling some of the water on her way back to the room. She opened the door only to see Levi passed out on the bed, still heaving his heavy breaths.

She set the bucket and cloth on the nightstand and proceeded to tuck Levi under the beige and white bedding. Levi’s eyes peek open as he tries to resist taking a break. Hange forced him under the sheets as she gave him a look of grave concern. He took notice and stopped, laying down into the light sheets of the bed.

Pulling the nearest stool next to the bed, Hange dipped the soft cloth into the lukewarm water letting it soak in. She wrung it out a little and then rested it on top of Levi’s head, brushing his hair out of the way.

There was a calming silence for a brief amount of time. It was almost as if the world had gone back to normal. No more fighting for our lives and sanity. Just blissful peace for the time being. Levi’s stern expression seemed to have dropped from his face. Hange noticed. She felt at peace knowing that Levi was finally resting from going non-stop.

It made her heart warm, as she stared at Levi’s sleeping face. Remembering how Levi would always help her out in his own unspoken ways. It was her turn now since the tables have truly turned.

“Usually I’m the one that doesn’t care about my physical health, guess it was your turn…” Hange lightly chuckled, bringing her hand up to rub the side of his arm with her rough yet supple fingers. He stirred a tad bit at her touch, Hange pulled away. It’s best if he just rests like this for the remainder of the night.

. . .

A couple of hours passed, it was well late in the night. Levi’s eyes opened slowly but his body remained still. Hange continued to sit on the wooden stool next to the bed he laid on. She was reading a book that was seen to have lots of pages and a red hardback cover.

“Oh, you're up. How are you feeling?” Hange asked as she leaned forward a little so she could hear his quiet voice.

“Better to say the least… thanks.” Levi avoided contact with her eyes towards the end. The color to his already pale skin looked to have returned a bit.

Silence was common between Levi and Hange sometimes. When it did come by, it was their way of acknowledging each other’s presence. Most of the time when people saw Levi and Hange they would look at them for what they stood for. To their old training regimen, Levi was just a merciless beast, Hange a mad scientist woman.

In the end of it all though, he was just another soldier and so was she. Hange’s thoughts always remained discreet towards Levi. He wasn’t just another soldier, he was Levi, an insensitive, little clean freak. She was the complete opposite of him. Levi saw her for how crazy smart she is and her messy ways. He learned to accept the parts of her that contrasted him. Maybe the way their traits contradicted was why they stuck together for so long.

Levi was one that never got a ton of sleep, he was usually super easy to wake up. Hange has spent many sleepless nights chatting with Levi about, absolutely anything. They were the talks that she treasured the most, he could see his soft side seeping through his steel wall of a facade.

Sometimes, Levi would even fall asleep right next to her while she was in the middle of describing her day. He was listening but she knew that distracting him would knock him out in seconds. Saving him from those deep thoughts that kept him awake.

So that’s what she did for every other night, including tonight. One may call this “being boring” but it was a useful tactic to get Levi to fall asleep. Hange preferred physical touches of intimacy when she felt like her thoughts were getting the best of her, and sometimes Levi would offer his touch. It was meaningful, what they did for each other.

Levi was fast asleep a couple of moments later after Hange bore him. He looked so undisturbed, it was enough to bring even Hange peace in her own world of chaos. She rested the thick book back onto the nightstand and placed the stool back into the corner of the room.

As she was about to make her leave she paused in her steps. She walked back over to the small bed, admiring Levi. All that he stood for and the fact of how he pushed himself past his limits to protect others. She loved him, but this was a feeling hard to admit out loud.

She leaned down her face just centimeters far from his. She paused taking in the way the blue moon enhanced his features, then leaning in. Her lips brushed against the lithe yet rough skin of his forehead. Her hands grasped the side of his upper arms gently resting there. Levi stirred again, a small smile broke out onto his features.

. . .

The sun peeked through the glass pane, providing soft light to the small bedroom. Levi woke, quickly pulling off the covers of the bed. He got dressed as fast as he could into his uniform and made his way down to give the scouts their jobs for today. When he opened the door, Hange was right there in front of him.

“Don’t worry, all the scouts are gathering resources already. Take the day off today.” Hange beamed as she threw a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks Hange, I appreciate it.” Levi smiled, a genuine smile, one of respect and compassion. He was grateful that Hange was there to pick him back up whenever he felt weak. She never judged. In return Levi was there to help her during her desperate times. It was a form of compassion for each other, one that would last more than a lifetime.

[damn-scarhead]

DGM tag game

I’ve been tagged twice. You can find the other part here.

Answer the questions and tag four people.

I was tagged by @xbloolii​ (Warning: this is full spoiler!)

What’s your favorite manga page/panel?

Kanda from chapter 170 aside, another panel that I dearly love is this one of Nea/Allen and Mana/The Earl hugging in chapter 219. But since I find that something is missing when I post it alone, I decided to post it with the page from before where we see Nea’s reaction right before he hugs Mana back. For me, these two pages go together. (Nea closing his eyes tightly and clinging to Mana as he hugs him back tells us so much about them. Nea loves Mana. We can clearly see that this whole “I have to kill Mana” thing is killing him too in a way.)

What’s your favorite chapter?

Let’s stay with chapter 219. It’s the first time Nea and Mana truly reunite (even though Mana is pretty confused by the whole thing). The goddamn hug is enough to propel this chapter into my top 5 favorite chapters (do I even have a top 5? lol). It’s just... We finally get to learn more about them (tho we did guess already about some of the things Nea says), about how they came to be, about who The Earl is. During this whole conversation where Nea is telling Mana about who they are and what happened, Nea keeps staying close to Mana and touching him. Maybe it’s meant to be intimidating (and we can see that Mana is confused and scared by it all). But Nea isn’t gripping his arms or shoulders to keep him in place, he’s holding his face. Not gripping it, there’s no force behind it. He’s holding his face. I’ll even go as far as saying that he’s cradling his face and I just *clutches heart*. This chapter really made me love Mana and Nea.

Do you have a favorite volume?

Sadly I already talked about volume 19 and volume 20 so I’ll have to go with my second favorite volume which is volume 25. (Yes, chapter 219 is in this volume). This volume is all about Mana and Nea (and Link and a bit of Allen too!). About their story, about what happened when Mana became The Earl (we’re still left with many mysteries tho) and it’s fascinating. This volume also contain a chapter that I really like which is chapter 222 with Allen stucks in that wheat field and having a conversation with “Cross”)

Also, I don’t know how this volume is called in other countries. But here in France it’s called “Il a oublié l’amour” (”He forgot love”) and this alone is enough to make me feel things.

Do you like Mana or Nea more?

Both. I already talked about Nea so I’ll talk about Mana. Like with Nea, he’s surrounded in mysteries that we have yet to know more about. Was it really him who became Allen’s father back then? Was he the one dying and being brought back as an Akuma? (I do believe it was him, in a way. I do believe The Earl killed and gladly made “Mana” an akuma in order to get rid of this part of himself that was bothering him. But alas, it didn’t really work) Why is he the one who became The Earl and not Nea? He’s fascinating and I can’t wait to know more about him.

What’s one thing that you like and dislike about Hallow?

I already talked about how I feel about Hallow in my other reply so I won’t repeat myself here. 

Like: They didn’t have to go that hard with Alma and yet they fucking did and I’m so grateful for it. He’s gorgeous. The whole purple thing going on during his fight with Kanda is gorgeous. The colors they choose for him are gorgeous. I know technically Hoshino is the one who choose that whole purple thing for him, but they could have easily fucked it up and yet they didn’t. Alma was perfect and I thank them for it. They also didn’t have to go that hard making Tyki. Clearly the whole budget went into making Alma and Tyki as handsome and fuckable as possible and I thank them for it.

Dislike: I understand the vibrant colors. Actually it doesn’t bother me that much. As much as I loved how dark the first anime is, I like the vibrant colors they used for Hallow. (Tho the blood seems fake, which completely destroy the gore/gruesome aspect of DGM. But I believe they did it on purpose so they could target a larger audience. So again, it doesn’t bother me that much.) But why the fuck is everyone so white????? Marie is supposed to be black and yet it doesn’t show??? At all??? They made him slightly darker than everyone else. And they didn’t even do it correctly because he just have this weird grey-ish skin that makes him looks like he’s sick lmao. But I mean, they’re all so goddamn white??? Wtf??? Did they forgot to apply some goddamn beige on their skin or something??? At least they made the Noah with some goddamn dark skin. (I saw some people complain about it. Their skin in Hallow looks too natural compared to the grey skin they had in the old anime which made them stand out more as those weird demi-god thing they’re supposed to represent. I understand their point of view. But personally it doesn’t bother me.)

What’s your favorite piece of DGM merch?

I already said the plusies. So I’ll go with the mugs. I only own one. But I love it. I love mugs in general so for me you can never go wrong with mug merches. I also love the art books and the logs. But I don’t really know if they count as merches or not.

Follow up question: what’s a piece of merch that you wish existed?

I suppose saying more figurines would make sense. I know figurines are a huge thing and we clearly don’t have that many. But personally I’m not a huge fan of figurines. Never really saw the appeal. It can be pretty when it’s well done but aside from that I’m just ???? But I do love prints. I have a lot for different fandoms. Official or not. So more official prints would be nice. I would love to have pins as well. (Yes, I have a lot of pins too and want some DGM one)

I tag @kanda-yuu-kun​ @rabbitknight​ @metzzi​ and @nooooooooooooo00000000​ and everyone else who would like to do it. (Please tag me guys so I can see what you replied)

[xfandomwritingsx]

The Sweet of Night – Loki Laufeyson – Part 5

-gif source unknown-

Description: After growing up besides Loki and having a complicated friendship with him, you visit him in his cell at night.  

Warnings/Labels: Overbearing mother? Is that a warning?

Approx. Word Count: 2,700

Story Masterpost

Flowers in hand, you knock on the large wooden door of your mother’s home. It’s a quaint little cottage in one of the nearby villages. She had moved into it shortly after your father passed despite still being offered a place in the palace. While you missed seeing her daily, it didn’t surprise you that she declined and ventured into her own little home. The quiet, common life simultaneously suited her while making her feel important.

“My daughter!” she greets warmly as she opens the door. Her once golden hair, now slowly melting into white, is tied into an elegant braid draped over the front of her shoulder. “What brings you by?” she asks as though you don’t visit her the same time every week. You smile anyways as she pulls you into a hug which you return. “So beautiful!” She takes the bundle of flowers from your hands. “Come in! I have tea almost ready.” Her robe is a dull, dirty beige color and it always humors you how even with the extravagant and expensive silk robes in her closet, she chooses the most drab clothing for her daily life.

“Mother, you don’t even like tea,” you laugh.

“Ah, but you do!” she points her finger at you and then shuffles you to the table. “So,” she sighs happily as she puts the flowers in an already prepared vase in the center of lace table cloth. “What have you been up to?” You sit as she disappears behind a doorway to her kitchen where you hear her bothering with the tea pot and cups. She comes back quickly and arranges the dishes neatly on the table.

“Just work, Mother.” You know she’s going to ignore your tone. It clearly portrays that you know the real question she’s asking, the one she’s about to ask directly, and that you have no interest in answering. She’s going to ask anyways. It’s what she does. According to her, it’s what every good mother does.

“Not seeing anyone special?” The expected question causes an unexpected squeeze in your ribcage, but you manage to hide it well.

“No, Mother.” You use the same drawn out, placating tone you always use and reach for a tea cup.

“Shame,” she hums, passing you the honey.

“How’s your garden doing?” you ask quickly before she can press further. “It looks like it’s thriving.” She throws a look over her shoulder at the window as if to peer out at it.

“It’s doing well. The children are taking very good care of it.” You smile warmly at her. For all her faults, the woman has always been generous. She regularly pays young children to tend her garden and then usually gives away most of the produce. “The little one, Alistair, he’s quite dedicated.” You sip your tea and nod. “You know, his father is Lord Devereux.” She raises a brow at you and you sigh, setting your tea back down, already sensing where this is going. “Lord Devereux’s eldest son is of age now.” She pauses for merely a moment. “He would make a fine suitor.”

“Mother!” you exclaim, not sure if you’re irritated or amused at this point. “His son is much younger than I!”

“Yes, but he’s of age! And a younger man will certainly ensure he’ll be around long enough to take care of you.” She leans back in her chair and crossing her legs, shrugging. “Plus… think of his stamina.” Your eyes widen and if you’d had tea in your mouth, your sputtering would have sent it all over her table.

“Mother!” She laughs at your outburst and picks dust from the lace cloth.

“Oh, come now!” She always manages to scold you with a smile on her face. “You should at least meet with the boy.”

“The very fact that you’ve referred to him as a boy leads me to believe I should do no such thing.” The woman is relentless and perhaps a little delusional, but she never fails to makes you laugh at the insanity she brings forth.

“When was the last time you were out with a suitor?” she pries. You squint your eyes and look upwards as though thinking deeply.

“Well,” you ponder. “It was roughly two days after the last feast.” Her eyes widen with intrigue and she leans forward.

“Really? With whom?” Her genuine excitement causes laughter to bubble within you.

“Warrior Patrick! You arranged a dinner!”

“Oh,” she shies away with a smile.

“Perhaps you should stop trying to arrange suitors if you’re forgetting every match you’ve tried to make.” You go back to drinking your tea and watch her fluster.

“I wouldn’t have to make so many matches if you weren’t so stubborn.” She sits back with a huff. “You must have gotten that from your father.”

“Obviously, because you clearly still have yours.” You both take a moment and crumble into laughter at one another. When the giggles subside, she reaches across the table for your hand and you allow her to take it.

“Oh my daughter,” she sighs. “I just want to make sure that before I pass, I know you’re going to be taken care of.” You open your mouth to retort, but she stops you. “I want you to have more than I did. I want you to marry wealthy and have not a care in the galaxy. I want my grandkids to grow up lavishly.” Her fingers rub gently over your hand and when she looks up at you, her eyes glisten with the threat of tears. “I want you to be more than okay.” Your heart softens and you place your other hand over hers.

“Mother,” You squeeze her hand. “Rushing me off into the arms of the man with the wealthiest pockets isn’t going to make me okay. I want more than riches and gold gowns. I want love, passion, a man who makes me feel something other than obligation. And if I’m to have children, I want their father to be a man on honor.” You give a small smile and roll your eyes. “Half the noblemen are barely fit to be a good husband, let alone a good father.” She pats underneath her eyes with the pads of her free fingers, dabbing away at any stray tears that may have fallen. “When I find a man, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Well I’d better!” She smiles and retracts her hand. “And I refuse to die until I see you married. Though I suppose if you chose a middle class gentlemen, that would be alright too.” You manage to withhold your eye roll but let you smile out. “Better than some of the women in this village, pining after downright criminals!” She narrows her eyes in disgust and shakes her head, but you find your breath caught in your throat again.

“Yes well, no pining for criminals here.” Did your voice waver? You aren’t certain. If it had, your mother shows no signs of noticing, for which you are very grateful. She starts prattling on about how some of the women talk and some of their men. You choose to stay quiet and finish your tea. Best not to risk any more oddities in your untrustworthy voice.

---

“You seem tense,” Loki observes. You’ve been sitting in the chair Decimus provided for quite some time now, but your body has yet to relax into it. Before you can deny it, he continues. “As long as your habits haven’t changed, I would assume you’ve visited your mother this morning.” You scoff at your own predictability. “What did dear Penelope do now?”

“You know she would have you hanged if she heard you address her like that?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but can’t quite muster the energy to hide your amusement.

“Well, lucky for me then that I’m not high on her list of visits to make.” He leans forward in his own chair which has been pushed further towards the barrier tonight. “So what did our Madam Healer do now?” You give a short roll of your eyes.

“Nothing new. She’s still trying to marry me off to the highest bidder.” He grimaces and you realize your words are perhaps a bit harsher than they should have been. “She means well,” you defend. “She just doesn’t quite understand there’s more to my happiness than a title and wealth.” Another sharp roll of your eyes and a hard, bitter stare at the nearest wall. “Stars forbid I ever get involved with someone less than well off and apparently it would be an utter disgrace to marry a criminal.” You’d learned she is quite quick to harshly judge those men who may not have followed the law to the letter. The thought of her bittiness towards them angers you.

“Was that a proposal?” Loki teases after a short silence. It takes you a moment you put together his question with your statement and your eyes widen, suddenly in a panic.

“Of course not!” You feel heat rise into your face as he bares his teeth in a wide smile. “I would not propose to you!” He shrugs.

“Well if you’re expecting one from myself, I regret to inform you I don’t have access to a selection of fine jewelry from my current state.” Deciding to let yourself relax and simply play along, your fold your hands in your lap and finally lean back.

“Well I suppose you’ll just have to make me a ring out of the paper from my books you borrow, won’t you?” He crinkles his nose up at you.

“A ring?” Shaking his head, he leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “My darling, a bride of mine would have a crown.” He turns to look over his shoulder at his bed where the latest book is hidden. “In fact, I may have to tear up more than one of your books to make a proper piece.”

“Don’t you dare ruin a single of my books.” You point your finger at him, breaking the playful ruse to make sure he wouldn’t actually do such a thing. Some of those you lend are rare! His smile snaps off his face and he holds up his hands.

“I would never,” he promises before breaking back into a smile again. The air settles and you try to relax your body into the hard metal of the chair. You are not successful. Something about your visit with your mother just has strings of your muscles tense and on edge. You roll your shoulders back and Loki watches you with a look of consideration. He seems to make a decision and lifts his chin. “Close your eyes.” You do no such thing.

“What?” You most certainly need more information before obliging his wish. He sighs with a slight impatience.

“Close your eyes,” he repeats. You still do not do as he says. “What do you think I am going to do from in here?” he questions, sensing your uneasiness. “Trust me.”

Trust him? It’s a large thing to ask and yet he commands it so casually. You force yourself to think about it, to mull it over in your mind despite the fact that your first instinct is to do just as asks; trust him.

In the end, with one more curious and unsure glance his way, you let your eyes close and envelope you in darkness. You’re aware, firstly, of where the light sources make the black behind your lids just the slightest bit brighter. The lantern on the wall off to your left. The dull light from his cell. The flicker of barrier wall in front of you.

“Good,” he coos, his voice washing over you. “Let your mind relax and just listen.” A part of you holds a suspicion and wants to open your eyes, but you push it back. “Imagine you’re in your chambers. Warm. Safe. Plush.” You let yourself imagine a small fire underneath your mantle at night, the shadow of the flames dancing along your walls. It’s a comforting image. “You sit on your bed, the blankets thick and soft beneath you.” In your mind you wear short pants cut off mid-thigh so that you can feel the lush fur of your favorite blanket against your legs as you climb atop the bed. “A man is with you, sitting behind you. Hands come to your shoulders, squeezing softly.” The mention of a man threatens to ruin your peace, but his words continue to ease you into relaxation. “He runs his fingertips down your arms, so feather-light it sends small chills through you.” Your body tenses to suppress a real shiver at just the prospect of the sensation. “Fingers glide back up and thumbs press into the space between your neck and your shoulders, kneading there, pushing at your tension, battling it. Slender fingers that hold strength. When the knots break, his thumbs slip down your spine, fingers gliding along the smoothness of your bare back.” You’re mutedly aware of a flicker of light in front of your eyes. The barrier, perhaps? Has he touched it? Lost in the fantasy of the massage Loki is telling, you don’t dare open your eyes to find out. “Fingers back up to your neck, rubbing, pressing. Harder in your tense areas, lighter and softer at your more tender. You can feel his breath at your ear as he eases your tension.”

His words work wonders. Your head even lolls to the side as though leaning into someone or giving someone access. You let out a long, audible sigh and then suddenly it doesn’t feel so imagined anymore. You feel the physical sensation of cool fingertips at the juncture of your neck contrasted with warm breath at the back of your ear. Cold dread plummets down your body and your eyes snap open, your hand darting to your shoulder only to find nothing there. You look back at Loki and he’s not at the barrier as you had thought, but still sitting in his chair. He raises a single brow.

“What did you do?” you question, suddenly slightly out of breath.

“What do you mean?” His voice lacks the coy nature you expected. “I was helping you to relax.”

“Yes, but how did you…” Confused, you turn in your chair to look around. There’s no one in sight, not that you had thought there would be. You narrow your eyes back to him before considering the barrier. You analyze it from your seat, looking for any sort of damage or crack or any kind of vulnerability at all, but can see none. “I thought your magic is contained to your cell, that it can’t reach outside of the walls.”

“It is.” He squints and you can’t tell if he’s genuinely confused or if he’s simply playing you.

“Then how did I feel your hands on me?” There’s the smallest smirk playing at his lips.

“Is that who you were imagining? Were they my hands caressing your skin?” You tighten your robe around yourself and cross your arms, but do not answer. “Words and the mind are powerful things. Perhaps you simply felt what you wanted to feel.” He leans back in his armchair so comfortably. Was he right? He had vowed no trickery for your visits.

“If my mind is playing tricks on me, then I believe that’s a sign it’s time for me to retire.” You can’t seem to decide if you believe him or not, but it makes for an easy and safe exit. Going to bed and sleeping isn’t a bad idea at all right now.

“Then off you go,” he waves at you. “Perhaps your mind will add onto that little scenario as you drift off,” he suggests. “You’ll have to let me know how that little fantasy ends.” His little smirk widens as you turn away. Normally, you’d have a quick retort to throw back at him, but this time you can do nothing more than simply leave. Your body and mind are just a little too unstable, already missing the invisible contact of his touch.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading darling! If you’ve enjoyed, I ask that you like, reply, reblog, or if you’re really feeling generous, buy me a coffee! 

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[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 3

Hello all, here I am, once again, presenting you with more of Midnight Striga. Thank you for your consideration.

Eda grumbled, awkwardly shifting in her seat. The fact that she was stuck here, in this den of propaganda and conformity grated on every fiber of her being. Still, the chance to loot this place after the fact was incredibly enticing, feeling herself grin at the thought. Glancing to the kids next to her, Eda took stock of what Luz had shared about them; the Plant Girl had serious power to her, enough to wipe the floor with full adults if she felt like it, and the Illusion Boy was a genuine prodigy, something rare, much like herself. ‘It made sense they would end up in Luz’s odd gravity,’ she mused. As the lights started to dim, signalling the start, Eda grumbled again, longing for it to end.

Bump strode forth to his place on the terrace, raising a mic to his face. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Witches and demons of all ages!” His voice boomed, echoing across the excited crowd. “It is my pleasure,” ‘Suck it up and think of the funding Bump, think of the funding!’ “To present to you… The Emperor’s Coven!!” With an explosion of fog and light, three Guards sauntered forth, with one even launching themselves into the air for the spectacle. Bump groaned internally at the theatrics, reminding himself once again of the funding this would net him and the school. The crowd roared.

“Now, I must ask you, do you all wish to know what the pinnacle of magic is?” He called out, hamming it up.

“Is it this!?” One of Bump’s students, one of the transfers from Glandus if he recalled correctly, excitedly shouted, before magically enlarging their head, collapsing on another student and prompting chuckles from his group.

“Wow, I have failed you as a principal.” Bump bluntly stated at the off-putting sight, not entirely sure how to process it. Brushing the uncomfortable moment aside, Bump regained his momentum. “No, it stands before you! The Emperor’s Coven possesses the ability to use not one, not two, but ALL Forms of magic!!” He boldly proclaimed, as the guards below unleashed dazzling displays of power. Privately, after his conversation that day of Boscha’s brief rampage, Bump wasn’t too sure about the Emperor’s personal followers being the pinnacle they were described as.

“Whoo! Luz, did you see that!” Gus excitedly yelled, bouncing up and down in his seat.

“Eh.” Luz shrugged her shoulders, before critiquing the group below. “Powerful, but overly flashy, and not particularly quick. Wasteful of energy, and not much technique that I can see. I give it a 6 out of 10.” She clinically listed off, marking each point with a raised finger, raising an extra finger to give the score, resulting in Gus and Willow deflating over her disinterest.

Oblivious to the musings of those who had started the change that was slowly encroaching Bonesburough, and the Isles at large, Bump continued his presentation. “And now, it is my honor to present to you,” and this time he wasn’t just speaking out of his rear, “an individual who stands at the top. You know her,” light and mist pooled around his feet, “you love her,” a massive, translucent raven cawed and swooped down next to him, tucking into itself, “give it up for Emperor’s Coven Head, Lilith Clawthorne!!” The raven burst away, revealing Lilith standing next to him as he quickly stepped back, wearing the traditional cloak of the EC and a stylized mask, black-painted lips quirked up in a smile.

Eda choked on her drink (that she’d stolen), desperately sucking for air. She eeked out a hushed, “Lily?”

“You know her?” Luz asked, Willow and Gus sparing Eda a glance of light concern.

Eda gave a resigned nod. “She’s my sister.” This elicited widened eyes from the three, and Eda just knew they’d be asking questions afterward. Ugh.

Lilith walked up to the front of the terrace, mildly glad for her former principal’s presence and his glowing introduction, she would NEVER admit it aloud but she always gained the worst jitters when it came to public speaking, even if she was skilled in it. She smoothly pulled away her mask, allowing her features to be seen and admired by the crowd. She felt a smug glow of satisfaction over her looks, before focusing on the present situation. “Citizens of the Boiling Isles!!” Her voice boomed, a neat little trick she had learned for just these sorts of situations. “I am proud to stand before you today, humbled by the exaltation you have displayed.” She gave an elaborate bow, prompting a roar of enthusiasm from the crowd. 

“It wasn’t easy to rise as far as I have. I too started from humble beginnings.” This prompted some muttering from the assembled crowd, particularly from those students who were themselves from rather humble backgrounds. “But now, I possess the highest honor of enforcing the Emperor’s will!” An honor that would all be worth it when he saved her sister, her stubborn, arrogant, bleeding-heart sister. “And today, I am pleased to present my protege!” She announced, raising her hand. In a burst of light, there she stood. “Amity Blight!” As the crowd went wild, she allowed her student to bask in it, a smirk playing across her face at the barely hidden giddiness. “She has taken the steps to excel, to ascend to the highest level! Work hard, and the Emperor’s Coven awaits you!” She shouted, slamming her staff down, and with a flash, she and Amity vanished into the depths of the Center, the crowd crowing in delight behind them.

Smirking, she and Amity waltzed into the main area of the center, watching in satisfaction as the excited crowd poured from the stadium area. Turning to her with gleaming eyes, Amity said. “That was amazing Miss Lilith! You were incredible out there.” She said with a grin, before turning serious. “I must ask, when will our next lesson take place?”

Lilith hid a smirk. The girl was eager, ambitious, skilled, and dedicated; even just one of those traits would serve her well in life, but all? She would truly be a monster to contend with as she grew older. She just needed to look into subtlety a bit more. “I believe I can schedule a lesson to take place in a weeks time, sometime around the weekend. If that’s acceptable of course.” She raised an eyebrow. She knew it would be, but politeness and social expectations existed for a reason.

Amity gave a solemn nod. “Of course. I will take my leave.” She said, walking off into the crowd, entering from the area containing those who had not exited the stadium, a smart way to avoid being mobbed by the crowd.

“Take care, Amity Blight.” Lilith murmured. “It would not do for your potential to be cut short.” With her musings over, she wandered into the main body of the Covention, prepared to meet and greet her public. Ah, the sacrifices made for a life such as hers.

Amity wandered through the center, idly taking note of the various Covens that had set up today. None truly interested her, but seeing the dedication on display, the willingness to restrict oneself so deeply in pursuit of one’s personal passions was admirable in its own way. She wondered what path she would’ve taken, had she not been born a Blight; would she still have this intense drive to excel, or would she be content with simpler things? She would never truly know, but it was an interesting thought. Lost in her musings, she was rightfully started when she crashed into someone.

As she fell, Amity caught a glimpse of the person who had also taken a plunge in their collision, and her eyes widened. Chocolaty brown skin. Smooth, swirled brunette hair. A light blue shirt with a stylized picture of a cat, tucked beneath a hybrid vest and jacket of gleaming white with a climbing vine decal. Well worn beige pants, and sporty looking shoes. Wide expressive eyes. And, most telling, rounded ears. In a flash, Amity had essentially memorized her appearance. Now if only she could puzzle out why she had done so…

With a small gasp of slight pain, Amity crashed to the ground, the human girl doing so not a second later. Growling at the discomfort, Amity quickly moved to her feet, wrestling control from her temper before it reacted over an accident. “Oh man, I am so sorry for that.” The human groaned, clambering to her feet. Stretching herself out briefly, the girl gave Amity a discerning look, before familiarity dawned on her. “Oh yeah, you were at the school that day! Amity, right?” She asked, holding out a hand for a shake.

Amity glanced at the hand, and briefly contemplated not shaking, before stifling the impulse, giving the girl a firm grip. “Indeed. I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced, however.” She said, cocking an eyebrow. She gave a shallow bow. “I am Amity Blight, youngest of the Blight family and heir-apparent of our name and company, Blight Industries. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She recited, keeping the kind of bland, formal tone you’d expect from a meeting between politicians, prompting a mild look of surprise from Luz.

The human grinned, almost amused, much to Amity’s confusion. “Well, Miss Blight, it is a pleasure to officially meet you when you aren’t acting like a bitch.” She said bluntly, but without a hint of malice or mocking that Amity could detect.

Amity awkwardly clutched her shirt, feeling small at the reminder of her conduct from that day, however lacking in harshness that reminder was. “Indeed. Speaking of which, may I know your name?” She requested.

The human arched an eyebrow, but shrugged, agreeing. “Eh, why not. The name’s Luz Noceda. Why did you ask?”

Amity internally sighed in relief that she’d be able to finish part of her mission so quickly. “For this.” Stepping back, Amity once again bowed, this time a full bow at the waist, head parallel to the ground. “Luz Noceda, I, Amity Blight, offer my sincerest apologies for my conduct towards you prior to today. I allowed anger, suspicion, and bias to cloud my judgement, but that is no excuse for what I said to you. I was dismissive, rude, and judgmental. If my apology is insufficient, I will do anything within reason to make amends.” Amity shut her eyes tight, desperately begging to the Titan that she wouldn’t be ridiculed, that her words would be accepted. The fact that this was so public… it burned her, how many people might try and hurt her with this.

“Aw man, could you get up? There’s no need for that.” Amity cracked an eye open, spying Luz’s sardonic expression.

“I beg your pardon?” Amity started.

“Look,” Luz began, giving a loose shrug, “I’ve been called way worse before by much more horrible people than you. Was I mad when you said those things? Oh absolutely. But, I got over it, because it wasn’t worth holding a grudge against someone who probably ended up regretting it, if they hadn’t already regretted it after saying it, and had been punished enough. You okay with just forgetting about it all?”

Amity huffed, amused at Luz’s candidness. “Very well.” Her face grew serious. “However, I would like to make a request, if it isn’t too presumptuous of me.”

“Oh?” Luz mused, cocking her head. “That depends on what your request is.”

“What are you?” Amity asked, Luz pulling up short, dumbfounded. Amity continued on. “I know you’re human. But strange things have surrounded you. You helped Willow gain an immense increase in skill after just a short conversation, and was able to oversee her application of her new skill level. You were able to survive a confrontation against Boscha while she was wielding those flames. And there have been rumors about someone matching your expression appearing around town.” She slowly walked around Luz, allowing herself to gain a better look all around. “I want answers for the mysteries surrounding you. Please.” She finished, fixing a strong, unwavering stare on Luz.

Luz sighed, scratching her head. “Ugh, fine, but it’ll cost you.” She said, opening a single eye to look at Amity.

Amity nodded firmly. “How much.” She had told herself she wouldn’t be leaving the girl without answers, and even if her mother was annoyed at the expense, it would be well worth it to give Amity peace of mind.

“An apology.”

Amity paused, perplexed. “But I already gave you one?”

Luz shook her head, elaborating. “Not for me. For Willow. If you want answers, you have to apologize to Willow.”

Amity gave a smirk. “Well lucky for me I was already planning on doing just that.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Provided she grants me an apology as well.”

“Huh, looks like things’ll work out pretty easily! She wanted to give you one too.”

“In that case, I see no reason we shouldn’t look for her. Care to join me?” Amity finished, gesturing for Luz to follow her. Shrugging, the human girl followed the witch through the crowd, unaware of the elongated figure looming in the shadows.

Eda stormed through the Covention, nimble fingers snatching up odds and ends as she shifted through the crowd, looking for her quarry. As she finished stashing the last of her loot in her hair, her eyes sharpened, spotting her target. Gliding forth, she stopped dead center in front of her prey.

“Hey Lily.” Eda grinned, all teeth.

“Ah, Edalyn!” Lilith drawled, pulling herself up from where she had been signing a little Witchling’s poster. “You came after all!” She placed a hand under her chin, looking smug. “Still rooting around in the trash in that shack of yours?” She chuckled at her little ‘joke.’

Eda rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah, real funny.” Getting an idea, she leaned over to the kids, she whispered. “Hey, did you kids know Lily used to wet her bed until she was-”

“Edalyn!” Lilith yelped in embarrassment as the children giggled.

Eda smirked, before pulling out her wallet (one of them anyway), and gave each child a small snail bill. “Hey, why don’t you kids all get yourselves a treat and go back to your parents, okay?” As the children eagerly nodded, rushing off, she turned to Lilith, her smile dropping into cool seriousness.

“Ugh, what do you want, Edalyn?” Lilith scoffed, folding her arms. Suddenly, she blinked, eyes brightening. “Unless… you’re finally here to join the Coven!” She cheered, a childish delight gleaming in her eyes.

“No.” Eda flatly stated.

“Oh.” Lilith said just as flatly, her excitement dead already. “Well, in that case-”

“I learned something pretty interesting, Lily.” Eda began, grabbing her sister’s attention. “About how the Emperor’s Coven presented what happened to me to the public.”

Lilith felt her blood chill; she had never really agreed with that decision, but it had been out of her hands. If Edalyn was bringing this up now… “And this holds bearing, how?” She asked, trying to play it off.

“I want you to set the record straight, Lily.” Eda said, a note of barely contained fury in her voice. “Now. If not sooner.”

Lilith reeled back. “I couldn’t possibly do such a thing! It is the Emperor’s Will!”

“Nuts to the Emperor, Lily!!” Eda shouted, slamming her fist against the wall nearest to them. “He used my pain, my trauma, my public humiliation as a way to get people to fall in line. I hate the Coven System, but I’m willing to accept that for most people, they choose to be a part of it. But using what happened to me as a way of scaring kids into falling in step!? I won’t stand for it!!”

“It’s not my decision to make, Edalyn.” Lilith coldly replied. “And really, you have no one but yourself to blame; if you just joined a Coven all that silliness would just drift away.” She firmly replied, internally begging that Edalyn would finally see reason, to agree with her, to admit she was right!!!

Eda paused. Then she chuckled. “Okay. I really didn’t want to do this. But! It looks like you aren’t giving me a real choice.” With a sigh, Eda stepped back, just enough to where she could point at Lilith at full extension. “Lilith Clawthorne, I challenge you to a Witch’s Duel.”

Nearby Witches and Demons gasped, reeling back, even as Lilith herself blinked in shock.

“Edalyn, you can’t possibly be serious!” She said, shock still coursing through her body.

“The terms are as follows,” Eda said, steadfastly ignoring the increasing mutters of the crowd. “If I win, you have to publicly admit the truth behind my curse, not that crap the Emperor peddles. If you win, I’ll join Bonehead’s little club.” She finishes, crossing her arms in defiance.

“Edalyn, you can’t be-” Lilith starts, only to cut herself off with a choke, as Eda formed the glowing white circle of an unbreakable vow, already sticking her hand through. “You really are serious.” Lilith breathes out.

“I am.” Eda says grimly. Staring at her sister’s hand trepidatiously, Lilith’s eyes flash with fear, shock, longing, pride, and finally, determination. Reaching out, she joins hands with her sister, for the first time in years… and completes the vow. The duel is officially on.

“A Witch’s Duel, eh?” A cold voice mutters in the dark, shadowed figures lurking behind them. “Well, won’t that be a fun way to start this operation.” They chuckled, their entourage cackling behind them, the cooling corpse of a Coven Guard behind them.

[sparklegemstone]

Taking a break from work so time to write up more of my Loki trailer thoughts since all the cool cats around here seem to be doing it :-D.

In chronological order:

1) Personally I was 'meh' about the trailer starting with the Endgame scene just because I think the Russos did a terrible job matching the tone of that scene with the tone of the original Avengers film's conclusion and I want the Loki series to feel like a continuation of Avengers.  Alas, the Endgame scene grates on me as feeling inauthentic to the story it's supposed to take place in.  But I certainly understand the practicality of needing to put it in to give the audience the context for when/how this new story with Loki is taking place.

2) But five seconds later on the other side of the wormhole…yay, Kate Herron fixed the tone!  This feels much closer in tone to when Thor and Lok depart for Asgard at the end of Avengers.  Excellent job Kate.

3) Was so pleasantly surprised by Owen Wilson's portrayal!  Very different than any of the comedic characters I strongly associate the actor's acting style with.  I like his character a lot with what we've been given so far.  It's instructive reflecting back on the potential concerns I had and that were being discussed in the fandom when we were working with scraps and rumors that we now know don't have merit: things like 'Hiddleston is only there to narrate the series' and 'How comedic in tone is this going to be if Waldron from Rick and Morty is hiring Owen Wilson?'.  Ah the good old days of baseless speculation.

 4) I mentioned the frequently low camera position in another post -- it does a poor job of conveying how Loki carries himself, tall and straight and elegant.  It makes him seem more ordinary, but maybe that's the point -- equalizing him with Mobius rather than it being an Asgardian in a non-Asgardian's presence.

5) The way Loki goes from locked down and not letting any sense of what's going on his head slip to Mobius (what I feel is in-character for Loki) to suddenly being a lot more open with what he's actually feeling and having less guarded, more friendly/casual attitude toward Mobius is weird to me.  I think it's a cut just for the trailer and hopefully it will make more sense in context, but Hiddleston's acting here and the way he has no qualms about being physically guided out of the elevator by Mobius is one of the points where it felt more like Hiddleston playing a different character than playing Loki to me (and lacking Loki's costuming doesn't help that perception certainly).  Which I know is nitpicky, but I was just curious to see to what degree this would actually feel like 'fresh off of Avengers' Loki and so I'm paying close attention to what feels in and out of character for me.  Does Mobius say something to really throw Loki for a loop that would cause him to drop his guard like that?

6) "Glorious" -> YAASSSS that's the Loki I wanted to recognize.  He's back!  I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around how blessed I am, but we've got him back for more screen time.  Also, with him back in Stark Tower and the later image of post-apocalyptic Manhattan, I am super intrigued by the possibility of Loki (and me too!) experiencing different ways things could have played out on Earth, if he'd succeeded in his conquest for example.

7) Loki's going to learn about what happened in the main timeline and the choices he made in the future?!  That's huge!  Should be a fascinating character moment.  This bit of Loki turning away from the projector gives me a lot of hope that the writing in the show is actually going to explore, honor, and authentically run with where Loki was as a character at the end of Avengers and the context of what he experienced rather than Marvel just plopping the "general" character of Loki into a genre-fied crime thriller show basically disconnected from the events of Thor and Avengers so they can say they made a Loki show.

8) Do I like Loki in the beige detective jacket?  Nah, not really.  But I do appreciate that even with the earth costume they kept Loki's style of being completely covered up.  Also creates contrast with him not being in control when he's in the TVA prisoner jumpsuit that has short sleeves.

9) Thought that was Nat on Voromir at first because of the purple environment.  Been reading some thoughts on how that's probably not Nat, and while the theories make sense, if that's true, why would Marvel put in a shot of a character that looks so much like Nat that it would cause confusion and maybe get her fans' hopes up?

10) I agree with @delyth88​ on the D.B. Cooper scene.  Didn't think I'd want Loki looking like Hiddleston, but I don't mind it / it's not taking me out of the scene as I might have expected.

11) The fight choreo and edit into the twirling -- I already discussed this before, but the physicality of it is giving me human-strength!Loki vibes.  If instead the guy he's fighting is also super strong, wouldn't the plastic or metal disc thing between them break upon impact?  Also the fact that it seems implied that Loki would get hurt by jumping out of the plane w/o Heimdall’s help to catch him.

12) The twirling -- is Loki legitimately, celebratorily, uninhibitedly happy?  I feel like we've never seen him like that since the Thor cut scene before they all made that fateful trip to Jotunheim.  I read a theory that the roman numerals on the building in this frame might mean he is in Pompeii the year the volcano erupts, which is interesting.

13) Loki saying "Brother”,  “Heimdall", coordinating with at least Heimdall, traveling on the Bifrost -- HOPE!  BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL, HOPE!  I was honestly expecting the show to make no mention of anything connected to Asgard, except maybe segueing into Thor 4 at the very end, so the fact that Loki is (indirectly) interacting with Heimdall -- calling Thor "Brother" (even if not to Thor) !!!!!!!!!!!! -- interesting!  

14) The idea of him being D.B. Cooper is very fun! (though I didn't know who that was in advance).  It's very easy to pretend that Loki is real and has been an unidentified part of our history all along.

15) I do not like the last scene with comics!Loki suddenly being brought to life.  In fact I had a very kneejerk dislike of it the first couple times I watched the trailer (so many watches ago :-P) because it presses a very personal button of mine, which is how the MCU is moving toward becoming more spectacle-driven and comic-book-y and therefore away from the grounded, character driven storytelling that I enjoy about the MCU.  I'm here for the character of Loki that I love as he is already established in the MCU, not the comics versions of the character.  Also, IMO the acting is out of character for MCU Loki and more goofy.

That said, I'm hopeful context will help a whole bunch here as @iamanartichoke​ has said.  Given all the timey-wimey multiverse shenanigans, it's probably not even Avengers!Loki anyway, and I'm certainly not going to begrudge the many fans who are excited to see comics references on screen.

Overall impression?  Very excited, very hopeful.  Would I selfishly want a story that's just a direct continuation of the Avengers and hyper focused on the exact context of the character of Loki as he was in Avengers, fleshing out the off-screen bits and up-until-now only implied emotional impact of what Loki experienced between the end of Thor and the start of Avengers, digging into his relationships with the Black Order, and family, reconciling with his heritage?  Uh…duh ;-).  

But you have to give an audience what they need as opposed to what they think they want, and from a craft perspective, this has to be its own story.  The Thor and Avengers stories are their own stories, they're told, they're done, even if certain emotional threads were left hanging / implied / off-screen that we as very detail-oriented Loki fans would like to see dealt with explicitly.

But given that this was always going to be its own story, I'm very hopeful that the series has an explicit creative goal of telling a story that also does a great job with emotional continuity and exploring the fallout of Thor and Avengers and what that means for Loki's character; of honoring, picking up from, and running with Loki as a character in the context of who he was when he surrendered to the Avengers and where he goes from there.

The Marvel Studios executives could have easily decided to make an isolated story featuring Loki that general MCU fans that don't think overly deeply about the character would have been very happy with and probably it would be very successful, and I would have gladly taken that over nothing.  But I'm optimistic that that isn't what we're getting and that they chose to ground their story in the specific context of Loki's character.  We'll see!

[fleckcmscott]

The Falls

Summary: Arthur and Y/N reach Gotham City Hall. Two weeks later, they share a taste of newly-wedded bliss.

Warnings: Swearing, Adult situations

Words: 5,953

A/N: This request came from @jokerownsmysoul​. I'm grateful for it - it was a real challenge. I can't wait for more! I also need to extend a hearty thanks to @sweet-nothings04​ for her support. I've been going through a rough period, which is why my output has slowed. She encouraged me, listened to and helped me work through my doubts, and gave me great feedback. Also, send love to @howdylilflower​ for reading through this, sharing her thoughts, and pointing out my obvious errors!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Gotham City Hall was, to put it briefly, imposing. Statues of former mayors and city founders stood on either side of its massive staircase. The Corinthian capitals of the portico's columns rose three stories above the entrance. The glass and copper doors, made heavy by their vertical, iron security bars, provided a sense of elite exclusion, regardless of it being a municipal building.

As Y/N and Arthur dashed up the marble steps, their buoyant laughter filling the air, none of that mattered. All that pomp and circumstance was immaterial compared to the leap they were about to make. The leap she hadn't expected that morning but had craved for months. The leap into wedlock and all the dedication, trust, and responsibility that went with it.

The Office of Licensure and Registration was far busier than she'd assumed - it was set to close in half an hour. Two clerks worked the winding line of people dealing with the unremarkableness of bureaucracy. A woman complained about the cost to renew a dog license. ("But he's only a mutt!") At the window, a man was being told he needed to head down the hall and to the left. One guy was muttering to himself about what he was going to have for dinner once he was "out of this hellhole." The atmosphere, admittedly, was not ideal.

However, the love of her life standing beside her, clutching her hand a tad too hard, made it perfect. She examined Arthur's profile as he stared ahead. The joy and relief hadn't left his visage after she'd accepted his proposal. Pensiveness hid in the flare of his nostrils, though. In the repeated clench of his jaw. In the quiet bounce of one knee.

She pursed her lips. Taking off up the street and demanding to be married straight away had been pushy. Under no circumstance did she want him to feel pressured, especially not when it came to this. But, she considered, it was natural to be anxious. And he'd appeared ecstatic, too, nearly yanking her onto his lap on the bench at Lemmars Park.

Tucking back the stray, chestnut strand by his temple, she murmured, "I'm the happiest woman on earth right now." She gently loosened her fingers from his grip and hugged his slim waist. With a bashful duck of his chin and quick puff, his arm went across her shoulders. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes told her his tight-lipped smile was sincere. That he needed this as much as she did. That he'd be all right.

The clerk, whose nametag read "Kyle," was polite and indifferent. Leaning on the counter, they hastily retrieved their IDs from her purse and Arthur's wallet. She rattled off her social security number from memory, while he had to find his card. After paying a fifteen-dollar fee, a slew of typing, and Y/N promising to provide a copy of her divorce papers, Kyle handed them a fountain pen and beige piece of parchment.

Floral borders decorated the edges, an art deco design out of the twenties. The title "Marriage License" leapt out, printed in a font belonging to a carnival barker's wagon. Their names, cities of birth, and birthdays were listed. A final paragraph stated the following: "The undersigned are both of sound mind, are consenting adults, and willingly commit to the bonds of matrimony." They merely had to sign on the respective "bride" and "groom" lines to make it official.

Y/N bent to sign the paper without delay. Not wanting to smudge the ink, she forced her hand to go slower than usual. Arthur grazed her knuckles as she passed him the pen. Only a couple seconds went by, then he jotted his name, a scraggly "A. Fleck." She heard his breath catch as the clerk notarized the document.

The paper needed to be mailed to central office for processing, Kyle explained (which Y/N already knew). A photocopy was made so she could change her name. The official marriage certificate could be picked up in approximately three weeks. To her surprise, he said, "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Fleck" before closing the window's shade.

And that was it. They were husband and wife in less time than it took to register a new car.

Exhilaration fluttered in her abdomen. Pumped its way from her heart to the tips of her toes as they strolled arm-in-arm towards the closest subway station. Y/N suggested they grab a bite to eat to celebrate, maybe go to Kao Wah. But Arthur stated he wasn't hungry. "I'd like to be home. With my- with my wife." He averted his gaze as he said the last words, the tip of his tongue darting to his top lip as if to the savor their flavor.

Given how much he'd learned about traditions from old movies, she'd suspected he'd try to carry her over the threshold. She was grateful he didn't. Instead, he pressed her into the coats and jackets hanging on the wall. Kissed her with his entire body. "I need to make love to you," he uttered into her neck. The softness of the euphemism was strikingly different from his urgency as he unbuttoned her blouse. He'd have likely taken her in the entranceway if she hadn't led him to the bedroom.

The intensity with which he fucked her into the mattress hadn't been experienced since he'd shown up at her apartment drenched, lost, and unable to fully accept she loved him. But this moment was distinct. Although the lines of his face were taut, his eyes were filled with ardor. He entwined their fingers, crushed her to him, drove her hand into the pillow. "Say you're mine," he implored, the jerks of his pelvis deep and uneven. "Please. Say you're all mine."

It wasn't like her to give herself to someone. To allow that person to own her. She'd tried that before; it hadn't been good for either of them. Yet, she'd pledged her fidelity to Arthur barely two hours ago. She knew what his request meant. He didn't want to change or dominate her. He simply needed to hear her answer. To know he was no longer alone in the world and wouldn't be for the rest of his life, even if he doubted.

Caressing the expanse of his back and his distended shoulder, she responded. "Of course, I'm yours, Arthur." The tip of his nose met hers, and she savored the smile he pressed against her cheek. "Of course, I'm yours."

She absentmindedly played with his hair. Holding him to her breasts, she went over everything she had to do the following day. Having a plan calmed her, aided her in thinking straight. And the list she was making was a pleasure because everything on it involved him. "I have to call the landlord to add you to the lease. Go to the DMV to get my name changed. Add you to my insurance at work. Oh, we need to combine our bank accounts, too." She peeked at the top of his head. "I have a feeling I'll remember to write 'Mrs. Fleck' easier than '1983' when the new year arrives."

The emerging rigidness of Arthur's frame and the burps that suddenly left him alerted her to his tumult. He pushed himself off her, swung his legs over the side of the bed as guffaws ripped their way from his throat. She scurried behind him to see his palm hover above his ribs as he covered his mouth with the other.

It had been weeks since his condition had flared up around her. Even longer since he'd tried and failed to hide it. Acceptance of his affliction was a concept that was sometimes hard for him to accept; her kindness and love couldn't erase thirty-five years of distress. But he had gotten better at believing it and she was proud of him. Not wanting any of his progress to be lost (especially not on their wedding night), she helped him through it, as usual. Kissed his bicep. Reminded him to take deep, even breaths. Blessedly, the attack didn't last long.

He was wringing his hands, the shaking of his head almost imperceptible. "What if I-" He spoke lowly, fear emitted with every syllable. "What if I wake up in Arkham? Or taking care of Penny again?" Y/N continued to listen as she searched for the best reply. "I never thought I'd have what I wanted." A humorless chuckle as he swiped his nose. "I don't want it to go away."

She wondered if what he was saying was due to trepidation or illnesses. Then she realized the differentiation was irrelevant. What mattered was soothing him. Letting him know it was all right. And real. Slowly, she knelt on the floor in front of him. "I'm not going anywhere," she confirmed, cupping his weathered cheeks. "I adore you." Smiling, she claimed his lips. "I'm your wife."

His toothy grin caused her pulse to skip, and he drew her to his chest. "I'm your husband."

"There's no one else I'd rather be married to."

Laying on the mattress, he closed his eyes. She stroked his lean pectorals, delighting in his resulting sighs. Once the tension in his sinews seemed to ebb, once he looked relaxed, he made a thoughtful sound. "Are we gonna have a honeymoon?"

~~~~~

For as long as he could remember, Arthur had ridden buses. They were usually crowded, stuffed full of humanity. A cushioned, plastic seat was free about a third of the time. Apart from the engine, the rides were fairly quiet. Everyone wanted to get to their destinations instead of conversing. He'd gathered that from observing them. From trying to figure out how to make a connection.

The tour bus he was currently on felt like the pinnacle of luxury, with its padded, fabric chairs and tinted windows. A newer adventure movie played on the tiny television built into the ceiling, its volume so low he could make out only half the dialogue. There was a bathroom (a bathroom!) in the rear, cleaner than any public one around the city. Passengers were few. A young couple sat across the aisle, playfully teasing each other. Sights like that had sparked melancholy in the past. Now the corner of his mouth quirked.

He'd yearned to get out of the city. To go somewhere warm, beautiful, and calm. To have space but not loneliness, which was readily available at home. The postcards he'd kept in his locker at work and on his refrigerator had been a feeble attempt to keep the hope of leaving alive. A co-worker had asked about them once. Arthur, seeking to cover-up his vulnerability in a room full of tough guys, had mumbled a quick, "They're just pictures."

California's distance from Gotham had made it a promised land. He would have liked to walk its shores. They had to be cleaner than those of the city. Meet the people there. They were likely kinder due to the sunniness of the state's weather.

He'd lain on his worn sofa or written in his journal, particularly on chilly nights, fantasizing about playing ukulele on the beach with a pretty Hawaiian girl. The light shining off her tan skin, a contrast to his own pallor. The sway of her hips while she danced the hula would match the rhythm of his novice strumming. After a shallow dip in the ocean, they'd make love in the sand. The sun would be setting to their left. A campfire would burn bright on the right. It would have been great.

But the woman currently dozing on his shoulder made the reality he was experiencing finer.

It had been difficult for him to admit his disappointment upon learning Y/N hadn't thought of a honeymoon. The notion had been unimportant to her, as unimportant as having a wedding. When they'd married two weeks ago, she'd said, in her usual, casual manner, "You're my husband and I'm your wife and that's fine." He'd believed he'd gotten her meaning - that frills and fusses were unnecessary, so long as they were partners. But his chest had ached all the same. He'd awaited the opportunity to let out the old romantic in him for years. Those frills and fusses were crucial to him.

The brochure for Niagara Falls had been one of many in the travel agency's window. Its bright blues and greens had caught his eye when he'd passed by on the way home from therapy. He'd heard of the tourist spot on television. Weekend trips were awarded as prizes on game shows. A magician may have gone over them in a barrel. It was supposed to be the honeymoon capital of the world. And it was only four hours from home. He'd figured it would be easy to sell her on the idea.

He'd shown her the pamphlet as soon as she walked through the door, prattling with anticipation as she slipped off her heels. "There's a Skywheel. We've been on the Ferris wheel as Amusement Mile but this one's taller." He'd pointed at a picture while taking her coat. "There are a lot of restaurants. And a town we can walk in..."

Trailing off, he'd lifted one shoulder. "I know you've done all this before. A honeymoon, I mean." His brows pinched. "But not with me. I just want-" The interruption of Y/N's lips had stilled him, the twine of her fingers in his hair switching the racing of his brain to the pounding of his heart. Once they'd parted, the affection in her eyes reassured him.

"That's wonderful suggestion," she'd said. "We'll call a hotline for motel recommendations after dinner. I'm sure I can wrangle a free Friday from Phil." Her eyelashes had fluttered against his neck and she'd snorted. "You should have seen his face when I changed my name. And told him you'd be joining me on every business trip."

The memory made him feel fuzzy in spots he hadn't known existed until she'd seeped into them.

It was early evening, cold, and raining when they arrived. Y/N held her pop-up umbrella over them as he retrieved their shared suitcase. Thank goodness the stroll from the bus depot and to their lodgings was short. Only shallow splashes got on their pants during their scurry up the sidewalk.

Arthur had chosen the Honeymoon City Hotel for a few reasons. The ad had promised a view of the falls from every room, which he'd thought charming. A special newlywed's suite had been offered, Jacuzzi, cable television, and free breakfast included. And the place's corny name. Its silliness had touched the part of him that had bought a rose when he'd had no clue what he was doing, having dinner at a woman's apartment like a regular man. The part that compelled him to impulsively grab her hand while they stirred pots on the stove. The part that could, every so often, envision a brighter future for himself because he had her.

The motel, however, stated there was a problem. The room had been double-booked, a mistake blamed on a new employee having forgotten to note their reservation. The other guests had checked in earlier and couldn't be moved.

Having had a plethora of first days, Arthur understood what it was like to be new on the job. But he was still irritated. He asked where they were supposed to stay, then muttered to himself. He didn't want to be upset on their special weekend. Graciously, Y/N patted his arm and stepped in. He self-soothed with nicotine and noted how, in her kind but direct style, she negotiated a stay in one of the business suites and a ten percent refund. The front desk person told them their bag would be in their room.

They were also given a coupon for the nearby revolving restaurant. He'd been intrigued by the mention of it in his brochure, but he'd assumed it was too expensive. It was just beyond the Canadian border in Skyfall Tower. Because of the discount and no passports being needed, they decided to catch a cab and go.

Though Arthur usually didn't eat a lot, they opted for the buffet. He'd thought it a better value, and it would allow him to try new dishes without worrying he'd be stuck with something he didn't like. The novelty of the made-to-order stir-fry felt opulent. And it was fun adding broccoli, carrots, and mushrooms, but no water chestnuts because their texture was bizarre. Y/N appeared to enjoy the chicken Kiev and quiche, going back for a second helping of the latter.

Gazing out at the panorama provided by the windows surrounding them, Arthur titled his head. Droplets ran down the pane of glass, obscuring the view. The multi-color illumination of the falls were hazy from the rain. The plaque at the entrance had stated they were fifty-five stories up. In Gotham, he'd never been worth enough to go above the tenth floor. He wondered how fast they were spinning. He couldn't feel the momentum, but their position had changed slightly during dinner.

In his peripheral vision, Y/N was licking the rest of her chocolate mousse off a spoon. Nonchalantly, as if she didn't know the effect it would have on him. "This was almost worth the mistake the motel made," she said. But she winced as she straightened, put her palm on her stomach. "I'm not going to be able to move for the rest of the night."

Rolling his eyes and giving a half-smirk, he stood and guided her out of her seat. "You just need to walk a little." He slipped her jacket around her back. "Come on."

~~~~~

Y/N tried to stifle her laughter at Arthur's bewilderment. The room was...not what either of them had anticipated. (And a reminder why she was dubious about motels that had silly names.) Saying it left something to be desired was being generous.

Brown wood grain paneling, too dark to be considered cozy, was on the walls. Two twin beds, about three feet apart, were on the right. She chose the one closest to the windows, and it creaked and groaned as she sat on it. ("I hope the walls are thicker than they look.") Dim lamps with avocado green shades were on the nightstands in the middle. A thirty-two-inch television sat on the bureau across from the footboards. The room's saving grace was a fireplace in the back corner.

He popped his head into the bathroom, stated the shower was smaller than theirs, and grumbled that there was no whirlpool bath. She did not mourn that loss. The couple of times she'd used one, the pumps and jets had been loud and distracting. Besides. They were bound to test one out eventually.

Arthur made his way to the acrylic curtains and opened them. "I see...a parking lot." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket and sighed. "This wasn't what I pictured."

She knew he'd blame himself because he'd picked the place, which was ridiculous. They'd both agreed to it. Disappointment and guilt on their honeymoon? That wouldn't do. "Vacations never go as planned. That's why you return home more drained than when you left." Reaching behind her, she flipped on the radio. Searched for and found a station playing upbeat music. Kept the volume at a level where the notes of "The Hustle" were barely audible but could still cheer. She stood and flipped back the covers. "Well, the sheets are clean. Help me push these together."

Chuckling, he brought the lamps she'd unplugged to the nearby desk, then moved the nightstands out of the way. There were four or so inches between the mattresses when the bed frames met, but they'd make the most if it. The ease with which he'd moved his bed against hers impressed her, prompted her to squeeze her thighs together.

While Arthur stuck his head out the window for a smoke, Y/N got to work. She dug out the sparkling wine she'd packed (not champagne, which he found too sour) and unwrapped the plastic cups by the ice bucket. After screwing off the top and pouring them both a serving, she stripped to her bra and panties, a lacy dark green set she'd bought for the trip. Then she tip-toed to him. "Mr. Fleck, would you do me the honor of starting the hearth?"

He flicked his cigarette, stood, and turned to her. The desire and love in his intent stare as it roamed up her body, and the softening of his features made her blush. She looked at the brown carpet demurely. "I only packed lace."

The raging flames were half a yard away, a yellow and orange glow illuminating them both. She traced his spine to the beads of sweat gathering in the small of his back. They'd begun mere minutes ago, but she was already light-headed. Not only from the satisfaction of him repeatedly filling her, the joy of joining with him entirely. But also from the blazing heat.

She focused on the drop perspiration rolling down his forehead to his nose, then felt it fall onto her neck. "Arthu-" The last letter was stolen by his lips, the tip of his tongue teasing hers. She broke off, gasping. "Can we take a break?"

Blinking at her, he stopped, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. "A break?"

Gently, she pushed at his hips and nodded. "I feel like I'm going to melt. And not in the good way."

He left the grip of her body carefully and went to the knob next to the fireplace. "I think it's on a timer." She watched his grimace as he attempted to turn it counterclockwise. "It won't budge."

Y/N scooted away from the fire, rolled onto her side, and grabbed her mostly full cup. "We'll have to wait it out." He pouted at her and she laughed. "Hey, waiting will make the quenching sweeter." Taking a sip, she beamed up at him. "I don't think I told you how I got to Gotham."

There was a pause before he swiped back his damp locks. "What do you mean? It was your old job." He stretched to lie beside her, propped on his forearm.

"That's true but there's more to it." Entwining their calves, she draped an arm over his hip so she could caress the modest curve of his rear. "I used to get groceries every Tuesday in Missouri - the shop was further out, so I couldn't go and get a couple of ingredients, like you and I do." She turned onto her back, surveyed the off-white popcorn ceiling. "It would be empty. Lines were short. New stock would have come in.

"I always bought three newspapers for the help wanted section: the Daily Planet, the Toronto Star, and the Gotham Journal. One week I had to work late and go on a Thursday, and the store was out of the Journal." She giggled and shook her head. "I was so annoyed. I'd avoided the Gotham Globe because it looked like a trashy tabloid. But I settled."

The skim of his fingertips across her belly was a series of tender, repeated lines. Her gaze flicked to his, her smile breaking her face wide open. "That's where I found the ad for Shaw and Associates." She brought his knuckles to her mouth. "That annoyance is what got me my job. Allowed me to move to Gotham." She grasped his chin, ran her thumb along his deepening dimple. "What led me to you." Arching a brow, she gave a little shrug. "It's almost enough to make me believe there's a reason for everything. Not quite. But almost."

The concentration in the lines of his forehead told Y/N he was trying to find the right way to express himself. He gave it a go. "You're my reason."

She winced. It was a conversation they'd often had. While she appreciated what he said, held every word in her heart, he tended to aggrandize her and not give himself proper credit for how well he was doing. For going to treatment, for trying different medications. For being honest. She was still finding the kindest, most effective ways to correct those notions. To emphasize they were equals, through and through. "Arthur, I can't be your only reason."

"That's not what I meant." He rubbed the side of his face. Sitting up, he hugged his legs to his chest and his eyelids fluttered shut. "I don't hate myself as much as I used to. Not every day."

He fidgeted with the carpet. Y/N put her palm on his foot, traced the tendons of his ankle. Tried to help bolster him to confide whatever he wanted. "My mother would say she was the one who knew my purpose. That she didn't mind my laugh, because I was happy all the time." Scoffing, he took Y/N's proffered cup. "If she told me I wasn't funny or I did something wrong-" He swallowed hard and finished her wine.

She got it. Penny, along with his experiences in and perceptions of Gotham, had hammered into him that he was hard to love. An egregious, groundless lie. The pain underlying what he'd disclosed settled in her stomach, a dull ache for what he'd lived through. She was about to speak when he wiggled his toe to stroke her wrist. "I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable."

"Psh." She sat to hug him across his back at the waist. "I've never been uncomfortable around you. Not once." He leaned into her as she kissed his temple. The reflection of the hearth in his light green eyes was beautiful, flecks of brown and hazel shining. Gladness lurked in them, undeterred by their earnest exchange. She tousled his curls, ran her nails over his scalp until a pleasured moan escaped him. "Don't ever apologize for telling me how you feel."

A prolonged but companionable silence, then. As the fire died down, she lay on the floor. Pulled him to follow her until his wiry frame covered her. "I hate to break it to you, but you're not that weird."

Enfolding their fingers, he squinted at her. "I'm not?"

"Sorry to let you down." She wrapped her legs about his middle, squeezed him tight as he opened her lips with his. "Loving you is one of the easiest things I've ever done," she purred. She kissed his face in a line, then whispered in his ear. "Planning to proposition a man on the third date was never a habit of mine."

"Hm." At the weight of him hardening against her thigh, she gripped his shoulders and arched towards him. "Did you always flirt with men in the grocery store?"

The mild pinch to his bottom was instantaneous.

~~~~~

After procuring two apples, bananas, and donuts from the breakfast buffet and bringing them to their suite, Arthur decided to journal. He'd been awake since four. There was only so much smoking, staring at the walls, and trying to go back to sleep he could do. So as not to disturb Y/N, he went to the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet, notebook on his lap.

The pen flowed freely and he snickered. It always felt good when jokes came easily. "My mother wud say (change voice here) 'mariage isn't for everyone.' But I found the one person who wanted to marry me. Sorry, mom. It's funny." "I have a wife. It's great to have one special person to steel the blankets from."

Tears pricked a couple punchlines later. He wiped at them with a square of tissue paper. "Today I feel good," he jotted. "I think it's because I like being maried. I'm so proud of myself for sticking with Y/N. The worst days are better. I used to wunder how long I could live with noone caring about me. But I don't half to anymore. I hope I never do again."

A yawn beckoned him and he padded through the doorway to peak towards the beds. Y/N was opening the drapes, just enough to let a strip of sunlight illuminate the room. She was pretty, barefoot, her nightdress ending mid-thigh as the rays framed her silhouette. He sidled up behind her. "What do you call two spiders that just got married?"

Turning, she tapped her chin, apparently giving it a good, long think. "Mr. and Mrs. Arachnid?"

Even if she was wrong, he appreciated her effort. "Newly-webs." Giggling, she hugged him around the neck, stretched slightly to kiss him. "I was on a roll this morning. Maybe I can make them part of my act."

She clambered into the bed beneath the covers and patted the narrow space next to her. It was a tight fit, but he climbed in eagerly, anyway. As he brought her half on top of him, she said she'd looked at the TV schedule and found a movie to start the day. One starring Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn. The film was new to him, though he'd heard of it. He enjoyed the unexpected love story between two people from completely different backgrounds. Nibbling on a chocolate donut, he wondered if Y/N saw the parallels. If that was why she'd chosen it.

When they finally got dressed and headed out, they discovered the Skywheel Arthur had been looking forward to was closed for the season. It appeared they'd gotten married too late in the year for a lot to be open. There was a wax museum and an arcade in the nearby town. Neither appealed to him. But as they wandered the streets, they found the Houdini Magic Shop.

The manner in which she was browsing the props and instruction cards made it was obvious Y/N was out of her element. The only clown performance she'd seen in years had been his. But she was sweet and enthusiastic, and pointed out items she thought might be of interest. He was polite when he declined them. In the end, Arthur picked out a color changing blossom and a never-ending scarf. Although it was a store for performers, he found pens Y/N could use for work. He presented them to her with a flourish, and she promised she'd use them daily.

They stopped by a nearby souvenir shop. It was small, about half the size of their living room. He bought a few postcards to go with the ones on his vanity. She chose three, scrawled "We're hitched!" on them, and mailed them to Patricia, Mabel, and Penny. There was a photographer's booth, too, and he convinced her to have their photo taken. The cardboard frame he chose had "We're honeymooning at Niagara!" emblazoned at the top in bright blue letters. It wasn't her taste. Not at all. But she claimed to like it, stating simply, "At least you're gorgeous."

And now, after a quick lunch of sandwiches and soup at a nearby cafe, they stood on the observation deck overlooking the falls.

Beyond city parks, Arthur hadn't seen a lot of nature. Though he appreciated the majesty of the place, he wasn't mesmerized by it. Not really. The height intimidated him. There had been periods in his life during which he would have gladly flung himself into the depths. Not to die. Just to make everything stop. Smiling slowly, squeezing the hand of the woman next to him, he was grateful not to feel that now.

He swiveled to study her. She was peering through coin-operated binoculars, a contented look on her face. She offered him a turn but he declined, already having the best view. He ran his thumb over the gold band on her left hand and shut his eyes.

He'd heard a song once. The lyrics had said he would be nobody until somebody loved him, and until he found somebody to love. It was plain the love the person sang about wasn't the one he'd felt for Penny. He'd thought half the equation might have been enough. But he hadn't felt much improvement when he'd fallen for his neighbor. He'd grown to hate it, going so far as to hawk the LP, despite liking the other tracks on it. He'd known he'd always be a nobody - he didn't need a tune to rub it in.

Nothing in this world, not even its natural wonders, would ever compare to the beauty of Y/N understanding him for who he was. Of her choosing to care for him even after seeing him. Of him finally having the ability to demonstrate the love he'd always wished was buried somewhere inside him.

Of her confirming his existence.

Her hand going to her forehead caught his attention. He tightened his grip on her, blinked away his musings. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just a little vertigo. I'll be fine." Resting on the metal railing, she let out a long exhale. "It's too bad we have to head home tomorrow. This is miles better than my first honeymoon."

A burn came across his cheeks. "Oh?"

"My monthly started the second day. My ex's entrance exam for law school was reschedule, so we cut it short." Their gazes met, her irises glittering. "And you weren't there." Her eyelids fluttered and she cleared her throat. "It helps that I'm with a man who won't tire of my tenacity."

That wasn't a word he knew, but he figured it out from the context. It was strange that anyone would be put off by Y/N's strength of character. Her courage had been what had saved him on the subway. He'd found it odd, at first. He'd met so few people with any hint of it. Hoyt had shown his fortitude by yelling. Randall had talked him into shitty jobs and lied.

Didn't she know her strength supported his own? That her confidence, both in him and herself, made it easier for him to function? Lent him an inkling of what it was like to matter?

He palmed her side, took her hand in his, and leaned forward to whisper, "If you close your eyes, you can pretend we're alone." Flights of fancy were harder for her, he knew. He was pleased when she acquiesced. Kissed her browbone and pushed the bridge of his nose to it. Humming softly, he did his best to imitate one of their favorite songs. He didn't lead her in a dance, but a gentle sway from side to side.

Chest on the verge of bursting, he longed to accurately convey the emotions rushing through his core. Such positive experiences still felt new. He chose to use the phrases he would want bestowed upon himself. "I love you because of your...tenacity." Shrugging, he pressed his lips together. "You were always so nice to me. I think you're the best thing I've ever seen. I don't want you to change, Y/N."

The delicate caress of her fingertips on his neck made him shiver. "Should I nag you to quit smoking when I'm ninety? And you're pushing me around Gotham in my wheelchair?"

"Yes," he laughed, nodding swiftly at the idea of them being together for fifty years. That would be heaven. "And that I need new socks." He smoothed his hand down her back until she was flush against him. "And to take my medication." Palming her hip, he grinned down at her. "And to make love, if you still want me then."

She giggled, fisting the front of his jacket. "Definitely." On her tiptoes, her lips seized his. "I'll never stop wanting you." Groaning, he grabbed her face and kissed her fiercely, knowing he'd lose himself in her as soon as they returned to their room.

~~~~~

Van McCoy - The Hustle

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[clan-sayeed-fic]

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: strong language, some fluff Rating: Mature Author's note:  I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

~ 2000 words

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

Chapter 8

Amy run all the way from the bus to Raines Company. She was ready to run over the whole building, straight to the catacombs. What she didn't prepare herself for, was security.

At the moment, she got inside, she was stopped by the man wearing a black suit, with an earpiece. She didn't remember him. Probably the reason for this was that when they had arrived with Adrian, no one dared to ask.

"I can't let you go any further before confirming your identity Ms." he stood in her way.

"Amy Campbell," she said nervously, not wanting to wait any longer. "Adrian knows that I'm coming."

The security man went to his computer and started typing Amy's identity. His brows furrowed.

"Can I ask for your real name?" he asked suspiciously.

"I have already told you," Amy bit her lower lip, losing confidence.

"Amy Cambell exists for about 4 years from now, and I'm sure that you're not 4 years old," he said, slowly reaching for his phone.

Shit, Amy swallowed hard. How good is their system in here that they knew about this? She was sure that Lily wasn't bad in her job, and she made sure to replace all of Amy's previous personal data with the new one.

Amy smiled sweetly to him, and when he was focused on picking a number, she ran past him as fast as she could.

"Block the elevators, call everyone in the building!" Amy heard screams behind her back, but she was already far ahead, adrenaline coursing in her veins.

She got to the stairs and started climbing, prying that no one would stop her.

Finally, she was on the floor where Adrian had his office. She didn't expect that anyone would stop her here. And again, she was wrong.

"Excuse me," she heard and then, saw a middle-aged woman with blonde, short hair, and scowl on her face. "You can't go in there."

"I have a meeting scheduled with Adrian," Amy said without turning and walked through the doors to the office, and after that, to Adrian's elevator.

"Wait, I'm calling the security," the woman said, high-pitched.

"They already know that I'm here," Amy said with a smile as the elevator moved.

***

Amy stepped out of the elevator, breathing heavily after running through the whole building. First, what she saw, when she entered the catacombs, were Kamilah's and Adrian's faces. Then, she noticed a girl standing with her back to Amy. Characteristic purple-hair stood out in the faint light.

Amy put the backpack on the ground, and her legs began to tremble. Tears started to flow down her cheeks without her permission.

"Lil?" her voice shaky.

The newly turned vampire looked in her way. Her whole appearance was radiating with unknown power.

At incredible speed, Lily was standing in front of Amy. They hugged each other tightly. Amy closed her eyes, still crying but grateful for having her best friend beside her.

"Carefully," Kamilah cautioned.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry," Lily let go of Amy's body when she realized how devastated the girl was. "Shh, Ames, it's alright."

Amy was weeping ashamed. She didn't want anyone to see her like that. Especially not clearly confused with the situation vampires. But she gave up, she couldn't keep her emotions in check anymore. Her legs were shaking, making her got down on her knees.

"I thought that I lost you for good," she finally spoke, her eyes red from crying.

"Are you kidding me?" Lily kneeled down beside her. "You will have to do more than that to get rid of me," she laughed at her own joke, but when she saw that Amy was still shaking, she said, "come on, Amy, we don't cry, remember?"

"I know," Amy wiped her face, trying to hold her emotions back. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why should I be," Lily asked, disoriented.

"Because of me you are," she stopped, not knowing how much did they tell her friend.

"A fucking vampire?" Lily smiled widely. "That's awesome!"

Amy couldn't help but laugh with her. That was her best friend. Like nothing had ever happened, her attitude stayed the same.

"You're such an idiot," Amy said teasingly.

"Jerk," Lily repaid with a smile. "Why are you so sweaty?"

Amy reminded herself about what happened earlier and looked in Adrian's eyes.

"I might have caused some trouble before getting here," Adrian raised his eyebrows, not entirely understanding what she had in mind.

He wanted to ask, but then, another person walked in the catacombs.

"Adrian, I tried to stop her, I swear," Nicole, his assistant, said and froze when she saw Amy and Lily on the ground. "What is going on here?"

Nicole stared at Lily deeply. She could easily recognize the newly turned vampire since she had seen a lot of them in catacombs. When she entirely understood what had happened, something cracked inside of her.

"Did you turn her?" she said with blame in her voice.

"Nicole," Adrian scratched his neck, nervously, "thank you for caring, but Amy was welcome to come here."

He didn't answer her question. Mostly because there was no need to, she stated the fact.

"You seriously turned some random person?!" she was shaking with anger.

Amy and Lily stood up from the floor, confused.

"Nicole," Kamilah decided to put an end to this nonsense, "Why don't you go back to your office and give us some time, private."

Her voice was calm, but Nicole knew to well that if she doesn't cooperate, Kamilah won't go easy on her anymore. With that thought, she disappeared in the elevator again, sending one last threatening look towards Amy.

"I told you to stop giving her hope," Kamilah turned to Adrian. "She can become a trouble one day."

"I had never given her hope," he tried to defend himself, unsuccessfully.

Meantime, Lily changed her clothes to the clean ones that Amy brought from their flat. She was grateful for not having to wear a shirt covered in blood anymore.

Amy was impressed by how good Lily handled this new situation. What's more, she didn't feel threatened by her being the vampire after all. For a second, Amy wondered why Lily wasn't hungry, but when she saw an empty blood bag near the wall, her doubts were dispelled.

"What will happen now," Lily asked, she couldn't hide the excitement in her voice, eager for adventure.

"You will go with Adrian to his apartment and live there for a few weeks during which you will learn how to control yourself," Kamilah answered emotionless. "We need to deal with the Council and get the approval for you to join Adrian's Clan."

Both of the vampires shared a meaningful gaze.

"What?" Lily was surprised, "I'm gonna live with a billionaire, and he is going to teach me how to become a badass?!"

"Technically, I'm not a billionaire yet," Adrian smiled to her. "And Kamilah would be the one to teach you most of the time since she has more experience than me on this topic."

"Woah," Lily remembered their first talk, but that didn't decrease her enthusiasm. "So I'm gonna be even bigger badass, cool!"

Amy smiled at her, wondering how she could be so confident around these overwhelming vampires. Amy's smile faded when Kamilah turned to her with the next words.

"And you are going to live at my penthouse," she kept the same tone of her voice. "We have some work to do, don't we?"

Amy quietly nodded. Ready for what's to come.

***

Kamilah showed Amy the guest room in her penthouse, which from now on, belonged to her. The room was nothing compared to Kamilah's spacious bedroom, but still, it was bigger than Amy's at her place. Besides, Amy was not a greedy type of person. She would get what she was given.

The walls were light beige, and the items of furniture the opposite, darker. There was a bed in the corner and the table by the window. The window was placed in the way that if someone opens the door, the sun didn't reach them. Also, the room was filled with high wardrobe, and commode. Light carpet on the dark floor matching the color of the walls.

"This is the only room where you can have opened curtains during the day," Kamilah said, standing outside of the room while Amy stood in its center.

"Got it," Amy looked around herself, "Can I redecorate it?"

"Why would you do such a thing?" Kamilah was surprised at this question, she felt insignificantly offended.

"Because, that's the biggest fun when you're getting a new room," Amy remembered when she had to move out and into different rooms back in the days. "I don't wanna change too much, only make it a little bit mine," Amy assured, with a soft smile.

Kamilah felt calmer. What's more, she was glad that Amy wanted to make herself feel at home.

"Yes, by all means, you can," Kamilah made her way to the living room, followed by Amy.

Should I feel already this freely around her, Amy asked herself in thoughts. It was a whole new situation for her. She should feel intimidated by it and distanced herself. But, what she really felt was the anticipation of what the future held for her.

"I want you to feel here comfortable," Kamilah said, sitting on the armchair tired after the long night and day, she stared deeply into Amy's eyes. "But, I have my rules."

"Okay, I will go to bed before 10 p.m." Amy laughed at her own joke, but Kamilah stayed firm.

The woman tilted her head slightly, a spark in her beautiful, dark eyes.

"You're adorable," Kamilah said with a hardly visible smirk, making Amy blush. "I was about to say..." she traced her fingers on the material of the chair, the movement hypnotizing Amy, "that you are not allowed to enter my bedroom and office." Kamilah stopped playing with the chair, lifting her gaze and waiting for Amy to do the same before continuing her thoughts. "Especially, the office, I value my work. And I do work a lot."

"Okay," Amy understood, "I won't bother you when you are working."

"Good," girl, Kamilah added in her thoughts, catching herself how often she wanted to call Amy this way.

Amy picked up her bag and was about to go to her room when Kamilah's voice made her turn around.

"I can send someone to your apartment for the rest of your things," she said after noticing how small was the bag in Amy's hand.

Amy wondered why she would do that, and then it hit her. Kamilah had so many things in here. Luxury things. It must have been weird to see someone like Amy, having only the content of the one bag.

"There is no need to do that," she ensured. "By the way, I left nothing there, so that's everything I have."

Kamilah raised her eyebrows in a huge surprise. She could not understand how Amy lived so far with this small amount of her own stuff.

"Then I will send someone to buy you new things and clothes," it was so easy for her to say something like that.

"I don't..." Amy sighed, "Kamilah, don't get me wrong," when she said her name, something cracked inside of the woman. "I like it the way it is. I'm used to owning so little things," Amy was about to share her rule this time. "I figured out that the more you have, the more it will hurt to lose it one day." She forced a smile, adding, "besides, I moved a lot recently, so it's easier this way."

Amy turned around and disappeared inside her room.

Kamilah was left with her thoughts.

She couldn't understand why, but she started to care about this human. And caring was certainly not Kamilah's thing for a very long time. This basically new feeling made her feel concerned.

Kamilah had a similar rule to Amy's.

She found out that the fewer people she cared about, the less painful her existence was.

Next chapter: 9 ---------------------- 

tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114

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

~SPOILER ALERT~

I'm grateful for yesterday's chapter of Bloodbound, and especially Kamilah's scene. I mean, I was skeptical about how they would write Kamilah's "I love you" cause, let's admit it, Kamilah is complicated as hell. And it would seem off for her character to just tell this without context. That's why I'm happy that they wrote such a beautiful dialogue between her and MC before it happened.  

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

We Can Make Anything Work as Long as You Stand By Me (Sriracha, Part 26.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: With one year anniversary approaching, Hopper decided to make something special with the help of your mom. 

Warnings: Smut, but a sweet and loving one. Also, let’s say this is one of the last happy chapters before... Well... The summer of 1985 is approaching rather quickly, don’t you think?

A/N: I feel like we hadn’t got nasty here in a long time... So... Here we go. Inspired by Foreigner and their song I Wanna Know What Love Is (IT IS 1984 GUYS, IT’S ALRIGHT, DON’T COME AFTER ME.)

Word count: 3.3 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​, @creedslove​, @missdictatorme​

Master list: H E R E

Eleven staying at your parents began to occur daily - even your father liked the girl since she was interested in his fishing set, watching him taking care of it and he could tell her about his damn sports articles for hours and she didn't seem to get bored with his enthusiasm.

It was secretive every time you took her there, making sure that she's hidden under the blanket perfectly. Since your mom stopped working at the Post office, you called her every day before taking El there - and it was never a problem. First, you let your parents take her for one day in a week, that was in early June. You or Hopper always made sure to stick around just for El to feel safe. When you were sure that she can stay there on her own the whole day, you began to drop her there on her own.

The first bigger breakthrough came when the first of July was slowly approaching - it was almost scary that you and Hopper made the things work for a year almost. That was also the evening when he got another of his batshit crazy ideas. He asked your mom when he was dropping Eleven off on Friday, letting your mom taking care of her. Aiden was enthusiastic about being an uncle - that day, he planned to draw with El and then showing her a few cool tricks he taught Lady.

"Can I ask you a favor?" - Jim asked your mom nervously as he watched Eleven taking her shirt off, almost automatically pouring herself Molly’s lemonade. She was asking all the time before she learned that she can have anything that was put on the counter - whether it was Molly’s lemonade or her famous cakes.

"Go on." - Your mom let him in, pouring him a glass of water as well. It was awfully hot on that day - even if the summer had just started. Hopper really appreciated the glass, if he had to be honest.

"God, this is awfully cringy, but..." - Hopper stepped a bit away from Eleven who watched him cautiously, having a small sunburn on her face since she loved to spend too much time in the water. - "A year of me knowin’ your daughter is comin’ by and I thought that maybe you could have El for a sleepover so I can make her a nice evenin’?" - Hopper asked, getting red on his cheeks. Your mom opened up her mouth a bit and then furrowed.

"You want to take her out on a dinner, right?" - She asked suspiciously, not letting Hopper off of her sight for a single second. Hopper almost spilled the water out of his mouth before nodding. He was thinking more like kinky fucking all over the cabin, but he couldn't tell that your mom straight to her face.

"At the Spanish restaurant in the downtown, Molly, she loves the food there." - Hopper somehow got out of his mouth, praying for your mom to leave him alone. Then, she nodded, looking at Eleven.

"It will be a pleasure to have this anger here overnight. She can sleep in Y/N’s old bed, we can watch some movies, have fun. Sure." - Molly nodded, waiting for Hop to drink the rest of the water and leaving the house, telling Eleven once again that she better be good kiddo.

And as Jim and your mom had planned, so it happened. On Sunday, you had to leave for a shift, so Hopper took Eleven to your parents’ just an hour before you were supposed to end. Joyce, again, helped him with the outfit and tips of what to say, she helped him with making the reservation of a table since Hop was clueless with these things. And let me say, that man looked handsome. Like, really handsome.

He took his beige blazer out of the wardrobe, slicked his hair, shortened his beard and Eleven helped him with choosing the right pair of jeans and a shirt - they ended up picking a white one with blue, almost invisible stripes printed all over it. Even Molly was pleasantly surprised when she saw him looking like a million bucks when he opened up the garage door.

Meanwhile, you could just describe your shift at horrendous and you were happy, once the clock had shown eight o’clock. The people were nice, it wasn't the people that visited the bistro... It was just too hot and the sun was shining the whole damn day. Yet, you wanted to buy some fireworks and celebrate the fourth of July at your parents’ as a family, so each penny you made could help you a lot.

You felt like a hot pile of a mess when you were leaving the bistro on one of Jim’s shirts with a messy hairstyle and a pair of jeans - but that didn't matter to him at all while he was waiting for you in front of the door, leaned into your car with a fucking huge flower in his palms. You didn't even realize what day it is. The first of July - you started to work at the station last year that day and Jim had proclaimed it your anniversary day. And even if you would remember what day it was, Hop didn't look a man who remembers dates and anniversaries. Your whole face lit up as soon as you realized it's him, just with shortened hair, looking smooth as ever.

"What are you... Doing here?" - You giggled, leaning closer to kiss him. - "Did you leave her all alone at home?" - You ask worriedly, taking the flower he was giving you while you let him give you yet another kiss. And that was a proper French one.

"Don't worry about anythin’ today, alrite? This day’s yours." - Jim smiled, patting your bum carefully as he threw your stuff on your backseat, shoving the flower there carefully as well. You had to sit on the co-driver’s seat because this wasn't the end of his masterful plan.

Yes, you felt kinda worried about Eleven, looking at the profile of Hopper’s face, but you knew that if she wasn't safe, he wouldn't be that calm. Foreigner was playing through the car as his hand palmed your knee when he drove towards the restaurant. This was the best looking anniversary you ever had - at least that far.

Even if you felt like you're not dressed pretty enough to have a meal at the best Spanish restaurant you've ever been, you saw in his eyes that it doesn't matter, for fuck’s sake. All that mattered was that you two were there together on a great meal, having lots of great conversation which you hadn't got in weeks... Months even. Hopper also made you laugh hard many times and... It just felt like the old times when there was no Eleven, when you lived at his trail and when nobody knew about you, although you were sitting in a restaurant full of people. It felt like that small half of the month after you got back to Hawkins from Dakota and before Jim disappeared for three whole months.

You were grateful for what you had, but it reminded you of something much simpler than what your current situation was. It made you remember the days when you could walk around completely naked, having him any time you wished to, the long nights of laughs you spent in the bed and the swims in the quarry, both of you completely naked, kissing each other, being completely lost in the moment. You missed these moments. But Eleven was now a part of your life as well and honestly, you wouldn't change that for literally anything in the world.

The bigger surprise was waiting for you in the cabin; while you had to sit in the car all alone for what seemed to be whole eternity, Hopper was doing something in the cabin. You were already happy - but your breath got pretty much stuck when you saw tens, maybe hundreds, of candles lit up with I Wanna Know What Love Is playing in the background.

"You're trying here, Mr. Hopper, I gotta say." - You whispered when you felt his fingers dip into your tensed shoulders, making you grunt with pleasure, biting your lip in the process.

"You're just worth all of this, what can I say?" - Jim smiled into the crook of your neck, letting his palm slip under your/his shirt and below the belt on your jeans.

"You’ve never seemed to be the man who does great gestures. This is such a nice surprise. You might need to do this more often, huh?" - You hummed and moved your hips in the rhythm of the song. It was a truly great choice of music; this was a song for dancing, singing, nuzzling, slow fucking, just everything. And when the main verse of the whole song was playing? You simply got lost in the moment every time.

"And I have more." - Jim smiled, taking the flower out of your hand, putting it into a vase. You had a while just to look at your man - and dear got, he was extremely hot at that moment, just doing the little everyday things. - "But you need to take a shower, darlin’."

"Do I smell, Jim?" - You giggled and hugged him from the back, smiling into his blazer. - "Now you're smelly too." - You put your chin on his shoulder, kissing the crook of his neck with a smile.

"You don't smell, I just want to see my fiancée naked. Is that a sin?" - He asked back, putting the vase on the table, watching you walk away with a nasty grin on your face. Slowly, you undid the buttons, one after one, showing him the bra you got under. Knowing this, you would take something way sexier, but you found out just after your shift ended and you were looking like a damned witch living in the deepest swamp.

That didn't stop you from undoing your jeans, unhooking the button just before you entered the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Without hesitation, Hopper picked up both your shirt and your pants, folding them without putting too much effort into it, since you taught him to do his stuff. By the time the door opened up again, you were already covered in soap bubbles, your hair was completely damp, but you had a contained smile on your lips. At least until you heard sounds of a Polaroid taking and printing a photo.

"What are you doing, you old creep?" - You mumbled, dragging him under the warm water after you - which meant that he had to put the camera away.

"Creepin' on you, I guess?" - The man smiled into your lips before kissing you, feeling as you massaged the gel onto his arms.

"Well, I hope you're not creeping on anyone else like that." - You laughed back, looking at that man getting on his knees. There literally wasn't anything hotter than Hopper on his knees; that was a fact which needed to be stated. Especially when you knew what he's about to do to you.

"So you can see this David guy, but I can’t creep on anyone else. That’s kinda unfair, missy." - Jim's mouth said into your thigh before kissing it. You haven't done anything in the shower for a hella long time. This almost felt like a redemption of sorts.

You'd swear that you started melting at the first moment his tongue touched you right on the most sensitive spot of your body. Without putting too much effort into anything, you stopped the water, swung your leg over his shoulder and gripped his hair pretty tight to make sure he won't leave his damn place. You didn't even realize how much you've missed being eaten out anytime and anywhere just because Jim said and wanted so.

Before your brain could make out what in the name of God of is happening, you had two fingers inside of you, third about to be added masterfully, his lips were sucking the living soul out of you and you had some serious trouble with standing up straight. Your fingers were playing with his hair, smoothing it from side to side as you bit your lower lip, trying not to scream too loud.

"Fuck, goddamn, Jim I love you." - You mumbled the typical nonsense you did as you were about to come, feeling that bastard just humming into your pussy. The vibrations set you off - so in the next second, you were barely standing there, screaming curses, his name, the name of the Lord, just everything as the stars flew past your closed eyes.

"Don't you pass out on me. 'Cause then I'd have to give you a mouth to mouth and that David guy would roast me for that, baby." - Hopper laughed from kneeling between your legs, watching you from the below, holding both your legs in place.

"Shut your mouth, creep." - You laughed with your eyes still closed, feeling him standing up to turn on the water. And boy, oh, he was hard as stone. But when you wanted to palm that dick, he shushed your fingers away, turning your back at him, slowly massaging the gel onto your back.

"What the hell was that, James?" - You laughed, giving into the touch of his fingers, feeling the warm water run down your spine, the small of your back and your ass. - "I'm not allowed to touch you now? You're like a moody-ass wife."

"And you're my impatient husband. Have anyone told you that patience is a gift?" - He asked with a sigh when he leaned your head backward, slowly drawing circles onto your head. That felt ridiculously hot and relaxing.

"Captain America says bullshit like this in every issue." - You said, biting your lip under that touch. It was really simple, yet somehow getting you all worked up. - "Patience is a virtue."

"It sure is." - Jim's palm slapped your ass to give you a sign that he's done. Jesus, he was in a playful mood that night - and you had his palm literally imprinted on your right buttcheek. With a sigh, you put your bathrobe on and left the bathroom, watching that fucking jackass biting his bottom lip as he tried not to laugh out loud. And God, you felt so in love when he came out of the shower, just drying his hair as you smoked by the table with one of the cabin's windows open.

"What?" - Hopper asked, smiling back at you.

"You're so handsome and I feel like I don't tell you that often enough." - You mumbled back, finishing the cigarette right after, tapping it off.

"Yeah, I'm the princess and you should be kissing my damn hand every time I swin' my breathtaking ass past you." - He agreed, making you laugh once again before he sneaked in in front of you, letting one of the towels to the ground.

"Hopper, the clothes and, ugh..." - You mumbled, bending your head backward, sighing at that man of yours.

"I'll do all of 'em tomorrow." - Jim promised, helping you to stand up before he kissed you.

"You're going to be the fucking death of me, I swear, James Hopper." - You whispered, pulling for another kiss as you tried to get the bathrobe off as quickly as you could, doing the same with the second towel around his ass.

Before you could say anything else, your back was pressed into the table while that bastard put both your knees into a fucking spread eagle. You barely remembered this position being as filling as it was - you just felt your eyes rolling backward when his dick slipped inside. This was the Jim you fell in love with - the man fucking you at a fast pace with his thumb wrapped around that small bundle of nerves between your legs.

You missed this playful sex. You loved the short pauses when he just wiggled his hips to make you shake in arousal, you lived for those small moments when he stopped to smile at you as he just pulled out and then came back in full force, making you squirm. This man was a piece of art and no-one could tell you otherwise.

"Can I come?" - You asked with a teasing smile on your lips, basically touching your ribs with your knees. You didn't know how Jim pulled that one off during each of these sessions, but he turned you into a fucking gymnast when he had his dick buried deep within you.

"Not unless I say so, I'm the law in this cabin." - Jim got out through his gritted teeth when he pulled your ankle on his shoulder, kissing it. - "Put your hand in use, I wanna try somethin' nasty I heard of from Callahan. You're gonna tell me once it'd raise a red flag." - Jim whispered you and you nodded frantically, feeling the rhythm fasten up. You put your hand on your clit, flicking it as a damn DJ vinyl and then you felt it and you screamed, making Hopper completely freeze down with shock in his eyes.

His thumb gently rubbed the back entrance - not getting in, just slowly rubbed around it. You opened up your mouth and your heart rate was literally over the top.

"You didn't like that, am I rite?" - He whispered while breathing heavily, still gently moving inside of you.

"I swear that I didn't know where this came from. It's strange... But that doesn't think I didn't like it. I just need to try more of that." - You reassured him quietly, wiggling your lips a bit.

So he tried it again. You felt a strange tightness every time he brushed over that spot. It made you jump a bit, pulling your buttcheeks together for a small second. You closed your eyes and made a high-pitched noise, shaking a bit. This was giving you a completely different dimension of love-making. It was hugging your whole torso, it wrapped around your head and made your heart beat faster. And then, without any warning, you came.

To be honest, you were basically yelling his name and you banged the back of your head into the table as you did so, shaking a good five minutes after Jim ended with you. You barely knew that Jim came on your belly and boobs because you were out of the world, your head was spinning. Damn this was a sweet treat.

"I think we need to do anniversary sex more often." - You mumbled tiredly, having your eyes closed. The whole feeling was so endearing for you that you couldn't imagine any other way Hopper could fuck you any better. He outdid himself literally every time. - "And I need to thank Callahan, because, holy fucking shit."

"I was that good?" - Jim asked cockily, making you sit up to clean you up with one of the towels.

"This was the best sex I've ever fucking had." - You smiled lazily, pulling him for another kiss. - "And I love you so damn much."

"Same here. But we should put you to sleep or you'd fall asleep right on this table and... I have to clean this damn place up because I promised to." - Jim smiled at you, hugging you tightly, letting your arms circle around his waist.

You were just two people in love and nothing could feel better at that moment.

[beloved-judged]

Wrasslin’ with ambition

In their kindness, the beloved ones have arranged my life so that my natural tendency toward wanting to be the belle of every ball is curtailed by circumstance.

This is a fairly euphemistic way to say that despite my best efforts, I am not the universally acknowledged superstar part of me wishes I was. In fact, a random survey of my day will generally net you a fairly extensive amount of people trying, in various ways, to make clear to me that they don’t think much of me as a woman, a person, or my skills as a worker. Questioning my competence; eighty-eleven shades of condescension; talking to my tits; the sudden inability to recognize English when it comes out of my mouth; whining at me that I just don’t ‘get’ them during work meetings; listening to people in my management chain insinuate that I’m fucking my direct supervisor; the complete inability to agree with anything I say, even when I’m repeating them; being unable to credit me with my own ideas...

I have that effect often on people. It’s a touch bruising on my self-confidence.

Of late, my friends/mentees/people whose resumes I edit and professional skills I foster are wildly successful, getting the kind of attention from companies I only wish I was getting.

It’s hard not to envy them. It’s hard not to look at the fact that they are younger than I am, taken more seriously than I am in professional circumstances, treated with greater personal dignity, their ambition treated as a value instead of a flaw, and spoken to with greater respect, and not feel....

I was a very ambitious girl. I had to be. My choices were a marriage in the community I was in--being turned into a professional ornament to some man’s life--penury (and in my experience, men offering to trade me sex and cleaning for meals), or getting a damn job.

I chose to get a damn job, rather than spend the rest of my life dependent on someone who (given that community) would expect me to look pretty, be vacuous, and be a private punching bag when they were annoyed by something at work.

In the deepest parts of me, I feel... mismatched with the world at large. I want to insist, without the fan dance we do to be polite to each other, that I am capable and more than capable. I want to yell at some of my co-workers, who spend so much time telling me how dumb everyone is (while apparently incapable of making eye contact), that my IQ score is probably higher than theirs (as if it would make them respect me--after all, what do I have to show for it? I am a peon.)

It nags at me. I want people to acknowledge that I am special.

But, as my papa (and any number of philosophers) could tell you, me, or anyone else that asks: the net of expectations is a trap.

I contemplate this while one of my co-workers stares fixedly at my chest while talking to me.

I contemplate this while one of my managers absolutely cannot bring himself to acknowledge that I might have a good idea, an idea that if anyone else presents it, is great.

I contemplate this while my co-workers ask me, again, if I really write software, or insist on not using the things I design, making a loud point of “checking it for error” while apparently ignorant that they’ve been using software I’ve written for months.

Who am I?

At work, I am a fleeting thing, slipping through the rings around me. I am immersed in other people’s expectations, and I can feel them around me, but they cannot hold me. They simply occupy eight hours of my day, though I should say that I have very little enthusiasm for what I do left, because I simply do not wish to expose that much skin to this game.

I am complemented for my professionalism from time-to-time by people who then probe it, looking for fault. The answer is, honestly, that no situation (at work or elsewhere) particularly needs me to flame it with my urge to demand that everyone respect mah authoritai.

There is nothing, I suspect, that I could possibly do to get the people I work with to cede me authority anyway.

In the lives of my family, I am a fleeting thing. I can feel their image of me and how they try to apply it, as well as the alternating pattern of their smug satisfaction when they think it fits and their frustrated bafflement when it doesn’t.

Most of them have concluded than I am fundamentally unnatural and washed their hands of it.

In the lives of my friends, I was astounded to learn that I am seen primarily as supernaturally patient, but even that is fleeting and I am not bound by it.

I am worried that the thing I am clinging to the most--that is, the thing which governs my entanglement in the net of expectations--is religion.

I am worried that, when the time comes to join my community, that I will be easily stung by the various slings and arrows aimed at people who don’t look like they match--I will be someone whose makeup foundation should be called “a rumor of beige” in a minority-majority religion, and I fully expect there to be some unpleasantness as a result of it.

I fully expect to hear jokes or cracks about white people from not-white people (already heard them about white people who can’t cook, the last time I was at the temple), and to take flack from white people for not being white enough/acting ethnic as I adjust to the community around me.

I am worried that I will roar in pain and lash out when my commitment is challenged, because religion is the only ‘safe’ place for my poor, fragile need to be the center of every party, the belle of every ball.

I don’t want to fall into that trap.

So in that sense, even though this fucking hurts sometimes, I am grateful to my beloved ones for the fisking and excoriation they routinely have arranged for my sense of social self.

I think they’ll forgive me when I wince, even though I acknowledge that this is incredibly valuable.

I increasingly believe humility is the only skeleton key to human relations--the only way to avoid the negative effects we tend to have on each other and the trap of trying to make the world treat us the way we want to be treated, see us the way we want to be seen.

[jebentnietalleen]

half the lies you tell are true (i’m gonna find a piece of you) chapter 3

It’s a good thing that Eliott is busy with work and school, because it helps keep his mind off of the fact that he is going to have to pretend to be Lucas’ boyfriend. As soon as Eliott came home that evening after their call, he texted Lucas with some questions. He wanted to know if they were going to tell any of their friends anything, mostly because he really wanted to ask for advice but didn’t want to ruin the plan by telling Sofiane and Idriss everything if Lucas didn’t agree to that. He hates keeping secrets, especially from his roommates. They talked about it for a bit and came to the agreement to not tell anybody, since it they would only be pretending for one evening anyway.

He can’t keep his mouth shut entirely, though, so a few hours before he has to meet Lucas’ mom, he tells Idriss he’s got a date and that he’s nervous.

‘Ahw, buddy! You have no reason to be nervous, I am sure you’re going to slay. You are looking sharp as hell.’

Idriss gives him the once over, nodding approvingly. He changed his outfit so many times, finally settling for black jeans and a green turtleneck.

‘Thanks, but I am practically sweating. Maybe the turtleneck wasn’t the smartest idea.’

He tugs at the collar, glancing in the mirror.

‘No, no, no! The turtleneck looks amazing! No changing your outfit again, Eli, come on.’

Idriss manhandles him out of his bedroom and into the living room, insisting on making him a cup of tea to calm his nerves. In actuality, he wanted to give Eliott something stronger, but he had declined. He couldn’t risk getting tipsy and making a fool of himself in front of Lucas’ mom.

The tea calms his nerves, but not enough to make him relax completely. Lucas texts him, saying that he’ll swing by to pick him up and that he’ll wait for him in his car so that Idriss won’t see him. On the one hand, he is grateful for the fact that he won’t have to show up at his mom’s place alone, on the other hand, he wasn’t expecting to see Lucas so soon.

He drains his tea and thinks he catches Idriss watching him more carefully, but if Idriss realizes something is wrong, he doesn’t mention it.

When Lucas lets him know that he’s outside, he swiftly dries his palms on his jeans and throws on a coat and scarf. He grabs the bottle of wine that he decided to bring with him last minute as a gift to Lucas’ mom. Idriss pulls him into a quick hug and whispers: ‘You’ve got this, dude.’

He hopes he is right.

-

It’s funny, in a way: when he gets into the car and sees Lucas, his nerves immediately quiet down. What is it about this boy that’s so soothing yet heart stopping at the same time?

Lucas smiles at him and mouths a quiet ‘thank you’, sending shivers down his spine.

‘What’s that?’ Lucas glances at the bottle that Eliott has clutched between his arms.

‘Oh, just some wine, for you mom.’

‘You didn’t have to bring anything, Eliott.’ Lucas sounds incredulous.

‘What, and come empty handed? What kind of boyfriend would I be if I did that.’

Lucas grins and shakes his head, but turns his eyes back on the road.

The ride over to Lucas’ mom is quiet, but the music Lucas puts on is quite soothing, and he thinks that Lucas probably chose it on purpose. It’s a mix of classical music with some more indie stuff in between. He reminds himself to ask the name of the playlist later.

When they arrive, Lucas shuts off the engine, and looks at him.

‘We’re here. Ready?’

Eliott scoffs, ‘Ready to meet my fake boyfriend’s mom? Sure, as ready as I’ll ever be. Do you have any… I don’t know – last minute pointers?’

Lucas’ face softens at that, ‘Eliott, please don’t worry, it will be fine. I’m sure she’ll love you. You don’t have to pretend to be someone else, just… be yourself, only, uhm, a version of yourself that happens to be in love with me.’

Eliott could swear he sees a blush creep onto Lucas’ cheeks. He will have to remember that for later, because of… reasons.

Lucas looks a bit embarrassed by it, ducks his head as he heads out of the car and towards the building. Eliott trails behind him as Lucas opens up the door and lets him inside. He is feeling less secure about all of this by the second.

Unfortunately for him, he has a huge tell: whenever he’s nervous, he bites his nails.

‘Stop that, there’s not going to be any nail left if you keep that up.’ Lucas swats away his hand and takes his other hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

The look in Lucas’ eyes goes from pleased because Eliott’s no longer biting his nails to curiously giving Eliott the once over. His eyes feel like they are burning their way down his body.

‘What’s wrong?’

There’s a second in which both of them stay quiet, before Lucas speaks up softly.

‘Nothing, you just. Look good.’

Eliott send a mental thank-you-note to his past self and to Idriss, for sticking with this outfit, and runs his eyes over Lucas for good measure.

‘Thanks, you do, too.’

Lucas is wearing a maroon red button-down shirt and beige dress pants. It’s a nice look.

‘Thank you, I know,’ he grins at Eliott and raises his eyebrows challengingly, ‘Here we go.’

-

In the next 45 minutes, Eliott finds out that Lucas used to have spiky short hair when he was a kid, that he did not like to get his picture taken and looks grumpy in 80% of them, and that his mom, Eleanore, loves him a lot. They look so much alike, in a way, Lucas and his mom. They both have sharp facial features, and beautiful eyes, but most of all, they have the same mannerisms. When Eliott hands her the bottle of wine, she looks pleasantly in awe, and it reminds him of Lucas so much. It’s oddly comforting.

Although he has been loving all the tidbits he is learning about Lucas, and the way Lucas continually rolls his eyes whenever Eleanore shares another detail, it’s been hard to keep his focus. This mostly stems from the fact that during all of this, Lucas hasn’t let go of his hand, and he doesn’t know what to think about that.

They are standing around the kitchen island, waiting for the oven to ping whilst drinking some prosecco, and they’re still holding hands. It should be weird, is the thing. This is not something they normally do, after all, but it’s not strange at all. The feeling of Lucas’ fingers tangled with his own grounds him, and he is extremely grateful for that.

‘Eliott, Lucas tells me that you’re studying Visual Arts. That’s amazing! You must be very creative.’

Suddenly he starts to regret the fact that he hasn’t asked Lucas what he has told his mom about him, what she knows.

‘I do, yes, I love it. I don’t know if I would call myself very creative, honestly, but I enjoy what I do and that’s important to me.’

Lucas turns around to face him.

‘Don’t sell yourself short, Eliott, you are very creative, and talented,’ he turns to his mom, ‘He actually kickstarted a short, animated movie back in high school. It was amazing.’

‘Really? Wow, that’s so great! I would love to see it, someday.’

Eleanore sounds so delighted, it breaks his heart a little, knowing that there won’t be a ‘someday’ after tonight.

He glances over at Lucas, who is already looking at him. Before he can answer, Lucas beats him to it.

‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’

It’s hard to tell what’s going through Lucas’ mind right now, but he guesses that they have no other choice but to pretend a future is in the cards.

An alarm goes off, and Eleanore gets busy, shooing them over to the living room.

‘Go sit, boys. Dinner is ready!’

When they sit down at the table, Lucas lets go of his hand, and he tries not to be too disappointed by that.

-

As it turns out, Eleanore is a fantastic cook, even though she claims she just ‘threw something together’. The dish contains white fish, tomatoes and eggplant, with baked potatoes on the side. It’s delicious.

They talk about all sorts of things. Eleanore asks them how they met. They agreed to keep as close to the truth as possible, which means that Eliott tells her that he changed high schools when he was 18 and met Lucas then. After that, she wants to know when they decided to start dating.

Before he can say anything, Lucas answers this one, telling her that he always had a crush on Eliott, and that he had confessed his feelings one night when they were drunk at a party that Basile threw.

That party actually happened, and it’s true, they were pretty drunk. Eliott thinks back on that party and wonders why Lucas chose to incorporate that night of all nights in their fake-dating story.

‘I just told him that I think he’s one of the best people I know, and that I really liked him, and I guess he was on the same page as me, and yeah, the rest is history.’

He tries to catch his eye, but Lucas keeps looking at his mom, who is cooing over their romantic encounter, if you could call it that. The funny thing is, they did actually have a conversation just like that one that night, the only difference was that it didn’t result in them moving on beyond friendship.

If he didn’t know any better, he would say that Lucas looks… shy, right now. Like he’s a bit embarrassed that he chose that story.

It pulls on his heartstrings, and he instinctively nudges Lucas’ thigh with his own. It takes a moment before he can feel Lucas lean into the touch gratefully.

‘You must be stoked to go on vacation with the whole family, Eleanore.’

As far as subject changes go, it might not be the most subtle one, but it’s all he can think of right now.

‘Yes, absolutely, it’s been so long since we’ve done something like this. I think that Lucas must have been 8 or 9 the last time. Did Lucas tell you the occasion?’

He tries – and fails – to hide his surprise. Frankly he has just assumed that there wasn’t any special occasion.

‘No, mom, I didn’t bore him with the details, but since you’ve mentioned it… it’s my aunt and uncles 25th wedding anniversary. They are pretty well off, that’s why it’s all expenses paid.’

When Lucas looks up at him, he seems to feel guilty about keeping that piece of information from him until now.

‘It’s very kind of them, and honestly I have been looking forward to it all year. I know Lucas has, too, right dear?’

Lucas shrugs and smiles at his mom, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘Yeah, I guess. I mean, I could really use the rest. It’s been a… hectic year. A full week in the sun can’t come soon enough.’

Eliott tries to concentrate on the conversations that follow and just enjoy his meal, but every once in a while, his eyes are drawn towards Lucas, and he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something going on with him that he isn’t voicing.

-

It’s too bad that Eleanore isn’t his real mother-in-law, because she’s an absolute sweetheart, and makes him feel so welcome in just a few hours. So much so, that when they leave for the evening, he feels a pang of regret that it’s over already.

They hug at the front door, and it feels nice.

‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Eliott.’

‘Likewise.’

The urge to give Lucas and his mom some privacy in their goodbye’s comes over him then, and he walks outside to have a quick smoke.

It takes some willpower not to try and overhear what they are saying. A part of him is dying to know what Eleanore really thinks of him, but he knows that it doesn’t even matter anyway.

Despite his efforts, he senses that the tone of Lucas’ goodbye isn’t as happy as he thought it would be.

When Lucas finally emerges from the house and asks if he’s ready to go, Eliott follows him to the car.

‘That went okay, right?’

He can’t help but feel a bit nervous. Lucas looks up.

‘Of course, it went perfectly. I know I have already said this a lot, but… thank you, again.’

‘It was nothing, really. I had fun. Your mom’s the best.’

Lucas smiles and sighs at the same time.

‘She is, isn’t she.’

When he glances over at him, Lucas is biting his lip.

‘Is something wrong, Lucas? If I did or said anything out of line, just tell me –‘

‘What? No, of course you didn’t. I was just… thinking. When we said goodbye, my mom started to say that she was so glad I had you in my life, and that she knew that everybody is dying to meet you… I don’t know, I just think that I should cancel that vacation to be honest.’

‘Are you kidding me? You deserve that vacation. Why would you cancel it?’

‘Because, I thought I would be fine with just saying we broke up, but I can already predict that there will be a pity party in my name if I go with that. And that sounds more exhausting to me right now than having no vacation at all.’

‘That sounds stupid. You need to rest, Lucas.’

A thought comes to him, one that he feels equally excited as scared about.

‘Listen… you said it’s all expenses paid, right? Would that also be the case for your plus one?’

Lucas nods, although his face tells him that he’s not sure where Eliott is going with this.

‘Okay, great. I have a proposition, and before you say no, hear me out. We can try and keep this whole fake dating thing up for a bit. I can come with you on your holiday. It wouldn’t be to do you a favor, or, well, not only to do you a favor. In case you don’t know, I am not exactly swimming in money right now, so a vacation that I don’t have to pay for myself? That’s pretty much a gift right out of heaven, if you ask me.

‘Look, you don’t have to give an answer right away, but at least tell me you will think about this before you make any rash decisions.’

Lucas is looking at him in disbelieve and with narrowed eyes, but his eyes soften as he realizes that Eliott is being serious.

‘Fine… I will think about it.’

Eliott doesn’t sleep that night.

[sweetdejun]

coterie: the shot glass (2/2)

gang!x1 x fem!reader

synopsis: you’re an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life. but what happens when you catch the gang that is famous for keeping their deeds under the table, in action?

coterie’s masterlist can be found here

pairing: song hyungjun and y/n

a/n: a hint of alcohol, cursing and violence, so proceed with caution. THIS ONE’S A LONG ONE.

hyungjun lumbered back towards his room. the image of the way you attentively listened to his instructions was implanted in his head. hell, every time he blinked that’s what he saw. the erratic beating of his heart frightened him, to say the least, and he was part of a gang. whatever, he thinks, it’s nothing. he opens the door to his room and checks the time. it is far too early to go out and party and far too late to get dressed for one, so he decides maybe he’ll attempt to get in a good night’s sleep. he hasn’t done so in forever, he feels, and immediately relaxes into the sheets as he throws himself onto his bed. it doesn’t take long for him to groggily blink up at the ceiling, the image of the pure beige plaster begins to darken, then it becomes dark as night. someone who lived normally like anyone else; with a family and friends and surrounded by an environment where people loved him and he loved them back. that was hyungjun a mere four years ago. everything was great and he couldn’t have been more grateful. one day, he was on his way back from school and was imagining his mother opening the door for him with a wide smile and a big hug, and his sister would ruffle his hair before she’d leave to the nearby cafe to study and within a few hours, his dad would be home, too, and they’d all come together as a family for dinner. that’s how it was every night. he came home that day to find his mother, his father, and his sister dead, their bodies limp on the ground surrounded by pools of blood. the state of shock captured him so bad that he wasn’t able to cry or anything. hyungjun’s eyes shot open and he sat up swiftly on his bed, heavily breathing. he looked over at the green numbers lighting up his alarm clock and it read 4:39 a.m. memories of that night still haunt him to this day. 

he remembers what was going through his head that day. what happened? a thousand questions seemed to ring in his head, and then he heard a knock on the door. terrified, hyungjun grabbed the first thing in sight that could work as a defense weapon and carefully opened the door, to reveal his neighbor, seungwoo. “may I come in?” hyungjun was reluctant, and seungwoo picked up on this and told him, “I’ll tell you what happened.” and one thing led to another, and hyungjun learned that a gang called the fangs allowed hyungjun’s father to borrow some money but didn’t tell him about interest. when hyungjun’s father returned the money that he originally borrowed, they grew furious and threatened to kill him and his family. when he asked seungwoo how he knew this, seungwoo told him that the fangs were a rival gang. seungwoo asked hyungjun to join his team so that he would work towards avenge the death of his family. it didn’t take long for hyungjun to consider his decision. in what seemed like a split of a second, hyungjun joined the gang, and seungwoo gave him the task of being the party boy (seungwoo didn’t want him to be dealing with people explicitly, as it could’ve been sensitive for him in the beginning). this mission, regarding the casino, is extremely important to hyungjun, as the gang that killed his family happened to work for the biggest chaebol in the country. seungwoo told him that they were to get any information regarding the identities of those who may be more informed about the fangs. the first thing hyungjun thought of after hearing about this assignment was you. what was this? suddenly, why did he find himself paying attention to the way your eyes sparkled when you spoke about your friends or the way you smiled at him when he replied to you in sarcastic remarks. he started thinking about how the little things you did, like guiding him through the crowded clubs with a firm grasp around his wrist, and even you making sure he took aspirin after a massive hangover, he looks forward to these events. his heartbeat accelerates and he wants to see you as much as he can. coming to think of it, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this way. ever since his family was killed, he hasn’t felt much emotionally. sure, he gets happy or sad once in a while but this warmth that you’ve kindled in his chest couldn’t be explained by him. so, he decided to ask for some help. 

he headed to eunsang’s room, feet dragging slightly because it’s still early as fuck. a few knocks later, he hears faint groaning and footsteps approaching, and then a grouchy “who is it?” follows. “eunsang, it’s me.” he door cracks open to reveal a fraction of a disheveled eunsang, who’s still half-asleep. “what happened that you had to wake me up deadass in the middle of the night? is someone in danger?” “I tell you everything, bro. I need to ask you: am I a happy person? someone who’s content and happy with the way things are in my life?” eunsang rolls his eyes, and deadpans, “if I had the energy, I’d slap you back into your senses, hyungjun. it’s four in the fucking morning. you’re my pal, so I’m saying this nicely, please let me go back to sleep.” without hearing a response, eunsang shut the door and left hyungjun standing there, a huff escaping him, “what an ass.” and so his feet take him back to his room, and he falls on his bed, stomach first, and a pout forms on his lips as he begins to fall asleep yet again. the next three days pass by in a breeze, although you and hyungjun have not seen each other as much as you have before this. you assumed this assignment must’ve had its kinks that needed to be worked out and you let him be. but, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss seeing him. sure, in the beginning, you were apprehensive about opening up to him. but gradually as you spent more time together, naturally you became more comfortable around him. and it wasn’t until these last three days that thoughts began to appear in your head. you would sit back and wonder what his hair would feel like, or are his hands warm, and has he always looked this handsome? you attempted to distract yourself from these thoughts and you went with soonja to a few stores, where you went to look for a dress fit for the evening. once you found the perfect one, you wasted no time purchasing it (soonja stopped you as you were reaching for your wallet, and said that hyungjun insisted that he’d buy it, before passing his card forward to the cashier). 

finally, the ‘big night’ was here: you had just finished getting ready and you heard a knock on your door. “miss y/n, are you ready? mr. song is waiting for you.” you grabbed your bag and nodded, before leaving your room and following soonja outside. leaning against a black audi is a sharp-dressed hyungjun, clad in a black suit, white shirt, and a black bow tie. hyungjun looked up at you from his watch and was stuck staring. you were ethereal. a forest green dress adorned your body beautifully, and you paired it with diamonds and nude heels. you had a light layer of makeup on and let your hair sit on your shoulders. hyungjun could’ve sworn he felt his heart beating out of his chest as you walked down the stairs, approaching him slowly. “close your mouth, buddy, or a fly will go in.” you teased and hyungjun blinked back. “you look...wow.” a light blush tinted your face and you shyly looked away. “thanks. you clean up well, too, song.” you patted his shoulder, and went to sit in the car, hyungjun’s eyes on your every move. he sat in the car and began driving to the casino. once again, you went over the plan: you two were to separate and give off the look that you were both attendees. hyungjun informed you of the people you needed to keep your eye on; the heads of the biggest chaebol, and their families (they’re the ones throwing the party). they held quite a bit of power, so you were determined to get information of any kind tonight. it didn’t take long and before you know it, hyungjun was parking the car. the night started young, you and hyungjun went different directions. you gained a bit of information here and there, and so did hyungjun. he wasn’t far enough to where you were out of his line of vision, so he could keep an eye on you and that certainly did not help him; hyungjun tried not to focus on the way the dress fit the contours of your body nicely, showing off all the right curves in all the right places, or how your lips glistened due to the lip product you had on. he wonders what that texture must feel like, then shakes the thoughts out of his head. what was he doing? 

in the midst of this, on the other side of the room where you stood, you mindlessly sipped a tall glass of champagne, with the little information you gained. you only managed to hear some women talking about how a family owed them money, and their kid was in college, and that the kid should’ve studied hard to get scholarship money instead. interrupting these thoughts, a younger man approaches you. he’s got the typical rich boy look, a cocky little smile on his face. the heavy scent of cologne throws you off as he stops in front of you, a glass in one of his hands, and his other one shoved into his pocket. “I haven’t seen you around here before, are you new to town?” you cock your head to the side, and sip on your drink. “not really. I just don’t come around this area too often. I normally don’t have time to go to places like this.” he chuckles and reaches up to scratch his eyebrow. “well, it’s my pleasure to meet you. I’m seo namjun. as in seo industries.” you feigned surprise, and beamed, “wow, the seo industries? how is that?” you pretend to show interest and he doesn’t suspect a thing, and he’s telling you all about the properties they own when his free hand rests on your forearm and moves up along to your shoulder. you shudder at the calloused feeling, and he notices. “I can make you happy, sweetheart. all you need to give me is one night, it’ll be the best night of your life.” and he leans in to try to kiss you. he catches you completely off guard, so much so that you push him back, and his glass slips from his hand and shatters on the ground, shards of glass mix with ice cubes. this seems to trigger something in him, and his eyes snap back to you.

“what are you doing, leave m-” your cut off by namjun’s harsh grip on your face, his large hand roughly squeezes your face between his fingers. your eyes dart around you and it’s unbelievable how no one comes to help you, or even notice what is happening. and those who do, just stand and watch the scene unfold. namjun clenches his jaw and says, “no girl has ever refused me like that. how dare you?!” and his head dives in for a forced kiss. the only thing you can do is attempt to hold your hands out to stop him and you shut your eyes. but you don’t feel anything. in fact, the grip around your face is gone in itself. you do, however, hear a thud and a groan. you open your eyes to see hyungjun standing in front of you, holding you behind him, and namjun is on the ground, his nose bleeding. “if she said no, then it means no.” namjun only seems to get more infuriated by this and gets up, before swinging at hyungjun. one hit after another, both men fight each other. at this point, there’s a crowd that’s formed around the two and they don’t stop until you start pulling hyungjun back and an older man, who you assume is related to namjun starts pulling him back. “stop it namjun! we are in public! do you have any self-respect?” namjun huffs out, and glares at you and hyungjun one last time, before releasing himself from the man’s grip and walking briskly towards the opposite direction. hyungjun takes you by the wrist and through the crowd of people, outside, until you’re by the car. 

he unlocks the car and you both quietly sit in the vehicle as he starts his drive back home. the ride back home starts out quiet. the tension is heavy in the air. you start off by apologizing, but he cuts you off. “I should be the one apologizing for putting you in a difficult situation. I shouldn’t have even let you come here tonight, your safety was threatened and I-” you rest your hand over his that rests on the gear stick. you notice the small cuts on them, before you softly say, “it’s okay. he didn’t hurt me, all thanks to you.” a small smile forms on hyungjun’s face and your heartbeat reaches your ears.  you two come back home, and walk in the mansion, catching each others’ gaze once more before going towards your respective rooms. it’s been about ten minutes and you’re back in normal clothing, makeup-free and you decide to grab a first-aid kit and head over to hyungjun’s room. he’s just getting out of the shower, freshly dressed. his wounds still aren’t clean enough yet, you think and you have him sit down. opening the small first aid kit, you start by grabbing an antiseptic wipe, muttering “this may sting a little, so bear with me,” before cleaning up the small cut on the corner of his cheekbone and a small slit in his lip. “thank you for being there with me today, I don’t know what would’ve happened. I’m so glad you came before anything could happen.” as you finish talking, you look up to see hyungjun staring at your lips. your silence seems to catch his attention, and he looks back into your eyes. there are small specks of amber in hyungjun’s eyes. they’re pretty. subconsciously, your eyes fall on his lips: plump, pink, kissable. wait, what? hyungjun wastes no time, and surprises you with an arm quickly pulling you flush against him, and he leans in and kisses you. you kiss him back, the faint taste of iron only igniting the fire in you. your hands drop the supplies you were holding and instead fly into his hair. pulling at the chocolate roots elicits a small groan from him, and you’ve decided that this is something you’d never get tired of hearing. after the dire need of oxygen captures both of your attention, you pull back, heavily breathing. a stray hair hangs loose before you and hyungjun moves it away. “I want to tell you something, y/n,” he starts off before telling you how it’s been forever since he had felt like this: happy. “I forgot what it felt like until I met you. after meeting you I began to look forward to the next day, and the day after, and so on.  but you also brought along this heart fluttering sensation in me. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop thinking of you”, and you giggle, and widely smile, “I like you too, hyungjun. very much.” and you notice him turn red at your comment and have decided that another thing you learn about him is that he can be cute, whether or not he approved of being so. “so, after all of this, would you like to give us a try?” he offers, reaching to hold your hand. and with a smile, you intertwine your fingers and lean in, “why after this, when we can give us a try now?” before you peck him on the cheek and you exit his room, leaving hyungjun a blushing mess. but he’s your mess, and that’s all you can ask for.

a/n: that’s all for hyungjun... now, who do you choose next? maybe hyungjun wasn’t who you expected.. who did you expect then?  let me know in the comments!

[she-is-tim]

To be, or no to be (in love) | Elu Home Tutor AU

Eliott has more than enough problem with university, but when his best friend’s sister asks him if he can tutor her friend for good money, he can’t say no. He has shit to pay and he’s good at literature anyways. What he doesn’t expect is to meet with the most beautiful human being who has eyes as blue as the deepest parts of the ocean. He tries not to fall in love, he really does...

Thank you for the beautiful cover @starcassstic 💖

The headache kicked in just as Eliott opened his eyes, making him feel like a whole school band is playing an anthem inside his skull. His eyes were pulsating and all he wished for was a shower. He felt dirty, smelling like beer and smoke. He could hear his friend snorring loudly from the other side of the room and if he wouldn’t be so damn hungover, then he would have kicked him in the shins to make him shut the fuck up. Instead he reached for his phone that was laying on the ground next to his bed, feeling grateful for his long arms making that movement possible without actually getting up. 

It was only 7:13 which made him even more grumpier. How can he be awake so fucking early when he was up until almost three in the morning. He let out an unpleasant groan to which a louder snort came from his roommate. He considered to find a book and throw at him, just so they can suffer together, but it would take too much of an effort. Plus Adrian was the worst in the morning after parties.

He checked his messages, there was one from Sofiane, probably asking if he got back to the dorm safe, some from Idriss, probably some drunk messages like always and one from an unknown number. He squinted his eyes, not understanding why he would recieve a text from someone he doesn’t know, when he could fairly remember giving his number to the girl that was hitting on him all night. Yeah, getting wasted wasn’t such a good idea afterall. He deleted the message without reading it, knowing that it’s a dick move, but he never was good at getting rid of chicks. They somehow thought that he is just playing hard to get, while actually he was just not interested at all. 

He got startled out of his thoughts when someone knocked on the door. He was a bit confused, checking the time again. Who would come visit so early on a monday morning, especially after that hell of a party last night? Since Adrian seemed to be in dreamland still, probably drooling like a baby, Eliott collected all of his strength to get up from the bed. He started to walk towards the door when he realized that he probably shouldn’t open it only wearing his underwear, so on his way he grabbed a hoodie from his desk chair, pulling it over his head, hoping that whoever stands in front of their room won’t be complaining about his outfit. Not like anyone would have the right to judge him, since it was still fucking seven and monday. 

When he finally opened the door, his first thought was ‘I am in deep shit’. He tried to think if there was any reason that would bring Imane Bakhellal to his dorm room on a monday right before school, but he couldn’t remember any. She didn’t seemed mad, so that was good. And like always she looked gorgeous, wearing a colorful scarf carefully wrapped around her head, a long, beige sweater and tight black leggings with dark grey sneakers. 

“You look like shit.” she stated without even saying good morning. Eliott let out a sigh and opened the door wider.

“Thanks for letting me know. Wanna come in?” he asked, having his manners even if he would likely just scream until his headache stops. Imane walked past him, her eyes scanning the room, which made the tall boy feel a bit embarrassed. Dirty clothes, empty pizza boxes, books and crumpled notes scattered around the floor, making the scene look like pure chaos. Neither he or Adrian were known for being good at keeping things in order, so they just let things escalate until their room became a dumpster. 

“This place is disgusting.” Imane said finally after long minutes of looking around, fixing her eyes on Eliott now, who was standing in the middle of the room, a few feet apart from her, still only wearing a hoodie and his boxer. “I came here to ask you a favor.” she explained now, not hitting around the bush.

“A favor?” Eliott raised his eyebrow. It never meant anything good if Imane wanted something, especially because no matter what she would get what she wants even if the tall boy tries to resist. 

“It’s going to be beneficial for the both of us.” she said, smug smile playing on her lips. “I need you to tutor one of my friends.” 

“What?” Eliott asked, eyes basically popping out of his skull in shock. He had to repeat the girl’s words inside his head multiple times to make sure he heard it right. “No!” he gasped after realizing that she is not joking. “No, Imane, my career as a tutor started and ended with teaching english to Manon.” he said seriously a bit louder than he wanted, making his sleeping friend groan at them, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. 

“Come on, Eliott. You are the only one I can ask. It’s literature, not english and his parents would pay you good money.” she explained, making the boy actually consider the offer, but then he quickly shook his head. 

“No, I am not playing that again. Remember that last time when I tutored one of your friends I got punched in the face by Charles fucking Munier?! Just because I dared to hug his girlfriend when we said goodbye.” his headache got worse just by thinking back to that moment. He swore then that he will never ever tutor anyone and stay away from Manon Demissy and her psycho boyfriend. 

“That was just one time.” she sighed and rolled her eyes. Actually rolled her eyes like she had any fucking rights to be annoyed when she was the one forcing Eliott out of the comfort of his own bed after a rough party night. “I swear he doesn’t have a boyfriend, he’s just a stupid idiot who needs help to stumble through his exams.” she explained and the tall boy wouldn’t admit it that he actually got intrigued when he heard the words he and boyfriend in the same sentence. 

“Who is this friend of yours? Do I know him?” he asked now, trying to sound as nonchalant as he just could, because he didn’t wanted Imane to know that he was already 90% sure he’s going to accept the ‘job’. 

“No, we just became friends a few months ago.” she replied with a soft smile on her face. Eliott knew it that even if they weren’t friends for long, she still cared a lot about that person, because otherwise she wouldn’t be smiling like this. “He is a nice guy, just really stupid sometimes. We got paired up for biology and I gotta say that I never had a better partner, but when it comes to literature, even a monkey is smarter than him.” she explained letting out a giggle which just lit up her whole face, making her look even more pretty. Eliott was stunned by how much love she talked about that boy, like she used to talk about Manon or Alexia. It was kind of endearing to see that she was getting new friends. 

“Okay, so you say he just need to learn some basics of literature?” he asked, raising his eyebrows now.

“Yeah, just put some sense in his head and he’ll be fine. His parents are kinda rich, so they’ll pay good for a couple of hours even.” she said and by the sparkles in her eyes, Eliott could tell that she knew she had won. He let out a defeated sigh and sat down to his bed, grabbing a painkiller from his nightstand and downing it with some water. 

“Fine, I’ll do it.” 

“Great.” she said, clapping her hands together. “I’ll talk to him and send you the details later. You are not going to regret this.” she said smirking and with a small wave, she left the room. Eliott decided to go back to sleep for a while, since he had no classes to attend to before noon. 

~°~

As Eliott entered the coffee shop next to the campus, he got hit by the noise of dozens of students filling the little space, talking, yelling and mumbling to each other. All of them had books, notes or laptops with them, mugs filled with strong black coffee resting in front of them on the tables. The beauty of the exam period. Mostly everyone looked like walking zombies, except one, the guy Eliott was looking for in the crowd. It wasn’t too hard to spot his arabic friend, who was flashing his bright, toothy smile at him, waving like crazy. He was sitting at their usual table, two drinks placed in front of him. The tall boy tried to cut through the students as smoothly as possible, flopping down in the chair across his friend. Before even greeting him, he grabbed the mug that was belonging to him, taking a large gulp of his coffee. It was perfect, just a tiny bit of sugar without milk, pleasantly burning the back of his throat. 

“How are we on this fine monday morning, Mr. Demaury?” Sofiane asked and if Eliott wouldn’t be so fond of this dude, he would flip him off for being so annoying. 

“I’ll manage.” he groaned, rubbing his palm over his face a couple times, trying to get rid of the sleepiness. Thankfully the painkillers took care of his headache, so at least he had one less thing to worry about today. “Imane visited me this morning.” he explained and if he would be in a better mood, he would laugh at how his friend perked up by the mention of his crush. 

“Really?” he asked excitedly. 

“Yep.” he nodded and took another sip from his coffee, already feeling the pleasing effect of pure caffeine rushing through his veins. “She asked me to tutor one of her friends.” he sighed and looked at the ceiling. “I swear if I wouldn’t need that damn money...” 

“Oh, which one?” Sofiane asked curiously and Eliott almost forgot that since he works part time in the dance studio where Imane and her friend, Alexia goes, he basically knows every single friend of the girl. 

“I don’t know his name, but she said he’s her biology partner.” he explained remembering only tiny chunks of the early talk with the girl. 

“Oh, that’s Lucas.” he said happily. “He’s a bit grumpy, but very nice guy. Idriss likes him a lot too.” he explained to which he shot his friend a confused look. 

“Okay, now everyone knows this kid, but not me?” he asked raising his eyebrows. 

“It’s not our fault that you and Adrian never come to the parties Imane’s friends are hosting, saying that you are done with high school parties for a lifetime.” he reminded him kindly, sipping into his chocolate macchiato. 

“Fine, okay. So you say this one isn’t problematic? Because after the Manon-Charles incident I had enough of jealous boyfriends.” he explained which made his friend let out a soft laugh.

“No, I mean his friends are kind of dumbasses, but they are funny.” 

“Cool.” 

~°~

It was late in the afternoon when Eliott got a message from Imane that included a name (Lucas Lallemant), an address, a date (Wednesday, 16:30) and his payment. His eyes got wide as he saw the numbers, texting back to the girl if she typed it wrong, but when she confirmed that it was in fact the actual total, he needed to sit down for a moment. This was the first time he was tutoring anyone for money, since for Manon he did it because he was owing to Imane for saving his ass from a really annoying and clingy girl at a party. This kid’s parents must be really rich if they are willng to pay 30€ per hour for a simple university student to knock some sense into their son. He promised himself that he will invite Imane for a coffee next week to thank her this opportunity. 

~°~

Eliott looked at the huge house that was towering over the street, checking the address in Imane’s message multiple times, but he was in the right place. He let out a deep breath, walking up on the stairs to the gigantic door, pressing the doorbell once, waiting patiently for a maid or a butler to open it. To his big surprise it wasn’t any of those, but a tall, slim kid. He had short, black curly hair, thick lips, his skin having the tone of melted chocolate. He was wearing a wite sweater with a blue and red stripe on his chest and dark jeans. 

“Hey, I’m Eliott.” he introduced himself, but the boy didn’t gave him the chance to continue it. 

“Oh, nice! Come in! Come in!” he said, opening the door wide enough for the tall boy to walk into the building. It looked exactly like he imagined it. A long hallway ending in stairs leading to the first floor, to the right a space in the wall was leading to probably a huge living room and on the left he could see bits of a well equipped kitchen. 

“Your house looks amazing.” he said to the boy that closed the door, walking around to face him, laughing a little. 

“Oh, this isn’t my house. I’m Yann.” he said, holding out his hand which Eliott grabbed, shaking it for a few seconds before letting it go. “I’m Lucas’ best friend.” he explained, placing his large hand on Eliott’s back leading him into the living room, which was large, just like the boy thought before. There was two other teenagers here, sitting on a big, black couch, playing some video game on the giant tv that was built into the wall. They didn’t even look up when the two boys entered the room, too busy to scream at each other, pressing buttons on their controllers like crazy. 

One of them had blonde hair that was curling up on the ends, wearing glasses that were slowly sliding down on his nose as he was nodding his head to the sides while playing. The other looked like a large bee in his black and yellow striped shirt, having curly, brown hair and a frog-like face. Eliott really hoped that he isn’t the one he has to study, because he was the one yelling obscene stuff at the screen. 

“Guys!” Yann screamed from beside him, startling him out of his thoughts. The two paused the game, turning their heads towards them with confusion. 

“Hey, dude!” the blonde one managed to collect his remaining braincells to greet the newcomer with a soft smile, while the other one looked like he had lost all of those a long, long time ago. 

“This is Eliott.” Yann introduced him with a bright smile, which earned him a good spot in the older boy’s heart. He seemed like a genuinely nice person. 

“Oh, nice to meet you.” the blonde spoke again, putting down his controller to get up and shake Eliott’s hand.

“Are you Lucas?” he asked, feeling intrigued to get to know his student.

“Oh, no.” the blonde boy chuckled. “I’m Arthur.” he introduced himself and the brunette could feel his stomach sinking to the thought that the annoying kid will be the one he has to deal with.

“So that means...” he started, but a sweet voice interrupted him, coming from behind his back. He spinned around on his heels, almost falling over in the process when he saw the boy. Eliott had seen a lot of things in his life and hooked up with really beutiful people, but none of them could compare to this guy. He was short, wearing grey sweatpants and a grey hoodie with Romance written on it, just casual clothes and still, he managed to look like someone from the pages of a magazine. His eyes were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen, blue like the deepest parts of the ocean. Eliott wanted to jump into those pools, swimming through them like there’s no tomorrow. 

“I am Lucas.” the boy said, probably repeating himself after not getting an answer from the older boy. Eliott mentally slapped himself on the face for becoming a puddle of emotions just from seeing a beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful, handsome... here comes another mental slap. 

“Hey, I’m Eliott.” he said now, reaching out his hands and he felt tiny sparkles running through his nerves as the short boy grabbed it, looking into his eyes with a soft smile resting on that beautiful face.

“I think this is our cue to leave boys!” Yann shouted and walked to the couch to collect their bee friend, who was whining that he wanted to finish the game. The two grabbed his arms, making sure that he’s coming with them and they said a quick goodbye before storming out through the front door. Lucas let out a deep sigh, scratching the back of his head. Eliott just noticed how fluffy and messy his hair looked like, being too preoccupied with those blue eyes before. 

“Sorry for that, they can be a bit too much.” he apologized with a shy smile. 

“Don’t worry, I live in a university dorm, I’ve seen more extreme people.” he said softly. “So, where should we start?” he asked, looking around in the living room. The boy in front of him was confused just for a second, before he realized that Eliott was here to tutor him. 

“Oh yeah. Literature.” he groaned, face turning into an unpleasant grimace, which made the tall one laugh. 

“It’s not that bad.” he said, still giggling a little. 

“No, it’s not bad, it’s horrible.” the boy mumbled ran his fingers through his hair, making even a bigger mess out of it than it was before. “Make yourself at home, I’ll get my books and notes.” he said, walking towards the stairs and Eliott let himself just a tiny glance at his butt before walking to the couch and sitting down. He was prepared, made some question cards and highlighted notes for every possible books they could talk about. 

~°~

Hours later they were sitting on the couch, leaning over an open book, analyzing every paragraph together, writing down notes. They were almost done with a chapter when Lucas decided to throw his temper tantrum. He got up from the couch, grabbing his hair and growling like a... well, like an angry hedgehog actually. Eliott had to laugh at him, because it was hilarious. 

“Stop laughing, this isn’t funny!” he was basically screaming at him, pulling on his hair. “My head is going to explode and I don’t understand shit.” he continued to complain, starting to walk around in the living room, grumbling under his nose. 

“That’s not true, you were making progress.” he said softly, but still enjoying the sight of the completely freaked out boy pacing around. 

“You are just being kind.” he mumbled, stopping by the sofa and sitting down on the armrest. “I am fucking stupid.” 

“Hey, if you were really that stupid I wouldn’t be here to teach you.” Eliott said honestly, he wasn’t that patient to just stick around if someone was actually helpless. 

“Shut up.” that was all he mumbled, but the tall boy could see the ghost of a smile appearing on his handsome face. He noted that as a victory and continued to read the book out loud, adding his own thoughts about the symbolism and multiple meanings of the words written down. Lucas was listening closely, playing with a yellow highlighter between his fingers. 

~°~

from Sofiane There will be a party on friday, you wanna come? 

to Sofiane I haven’t heard of a uni party

from Sofiane It’s not a uni party, Imane’s friend Emma is throwing one at her place

to Sofiane I’ll pass it

from Sofiane Lucas will be there

to Sofiane Nevermind, I’m coming 

from Sofiane I’ll let the girls know then ;)

to Sofiane I hate you

They were sitting in the living room yet again, this was the fourth time Eliott came here to teach literature and with each day he was more and more gone for the blue eyed boy. He loved to watch him focus on the notes while reading them, frowning at the papers in frustration, licking his lips every 30 seconds unconsciously, driving the older boy insane with it. He was fond of that unruly hair that kept looking like a tornado went through it multiple times, since the boy didn’t seemed to be able to keep his hands away from it, messing it up at least five times in an hour. Not like Eliott was counting it, he totally didn’t. He just guessed. 

“You know... the girls told me you’re coming to the party on friday.” Lucas mumbled after long minutes of silence. Eliott raised his head, glancing at the boy sitting next to him, but he was keeping his eyes on the note he was holding in his hand. 

“Yeah, why?” he asked curiously.

“Nothing, I am just surprised.” he answered, shrugging a little. “I just never saw you on any of the parties before, while Sofiane and Idriss were always coming.” he explained, letting himself to look at his tutor. If Eliott wouldn’t know him better, he would have thought that he’s nervous. 

“Yeah, well I have my reasons to go this time.” he explained, flashing a mysterious smile at the younger one, who just furrowed his brows at him and turned his head back to the paper between his fingers.

“I see.” he mumbled under his nose. 

~°~

The party looked neat, already going hard, which was logical, since Eliott arrived way too late. He would have come sooner, but he had to finish an essay that was due next morning. He hated that some professors had no respect for saturdays, they were university students, they needed to relax on friday nights, not writing a 12 page long essay about the impacts of the renaissance period on painting. 

He walked inside, smell of sweat, alcohol and smoke hitting him right in the face alongside with the thumping rythm of the loud music. Most of the people were already drunk, dancing like crazy in the living room that functioned as dancefloor, or making out at any part of the house. These horny teenagers had no self-control for sure. He pushed himself through a group of giggly girls that were yelling obscene stuff after him, complimenting on his “fine ass”. Eliott just rolled his eyes and made his way towards the kitchen, hoping to get himself some beer and get a bit tipsy to get into party mood.

Thankfully the kitchen seemed to be some kind of safe place, because there were only a handful of people there, sipping on their drinks and talking. He felt relieved that he could finally take a breath, but then that was immediately punched out of his lungs as he spotted a kissing couple next to the sink. Not like it was such a shocking thing to see, especially not on a party, but what was making this the worst thing he’s ever seen was that one of the pair was not else, but Lucas. He was kissing a brown haired girl, she seemed pretty, slim body, pretty clotes, small and soft hands that were gripping into the blue button up shirt the short boy was wearing. Eliott felt like throwing up, he needed to get out of there, as quick as possible. He wasn’t that lucky, because just when he decided to leave, Yann spotted him, yelling his name. 

“Eliott, hey!” he greeted him with a bright grin and the tall boy tried to force a smile on his face. from the corner of his eyes he could see the pair breaking apart, both of their lips swollen from the kissing. He felt like someone stabbed him in the heart and twisted the knife when Lucas deep blue eyes looked at him, filled with a mix of emotions. Shock, guilt, confusion, maybe? He couldn’t tell, all he knew was that he had to leave.

“Come here, buddy!” it was Arthur this time who was speaking, holding a joint between his fingers, holding it out, offering it to the older boy. Eliott shook his head and coughed, forcing himself to not let his emotions showing. 

“I am actually going now...” he explained, trying to cut his sentences short, so his voice can have no chance to break. 

“What? No! You are the coolest person around.” Basile whined, they only met two times, but he was always hanging on every word of Eliott. He would usually find it kind of endearing, but not right now. 

“Eliott, can we.... talk?” a quiet voice came from behind him and he didn’t wanted to turn around, seeing Lucas and the girl wrapped around him, but he had to keep up the facade. He was a bit surprised when he saw the defeated look on the young one’s face, The girl, whatever was her name was hanging on him, trying to kiss his neck, but he gently pushed her away. 

“What the fuck, Lucas?” she almost screamed at him, acting like the boy just cancelled their wedding.  

Eliott knew that if he starts talking to him now, he would just spill out what’s in his heart, tell Lucas how much he likes him and that he wants to date him so badly, but he couldn’t. Lucas was most likely straight, therefore he had no chances, so instead of answering, he spinned around on his heals and stormed out of the house, basically running to the bus stop. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breathing was fast paced, almost like he was having a panic attack, but he didn’t stop until he reached the shelter, leaning his back to the plastic wall. He grabbed his shirt at his chest, trying to calm himself down somehow. He hated how much this one teenage boy was affecting him. 

~°~

The next time they had a meeting, both of them were quiet, only talking if it was about literature. The tension was almost suffocating Eliott, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask anything from the boy. He couldn’t just tell him that he had feelings for him, that every time he went to bed he was the last thing on his mind and then when he woke up he was also the first thing that came into his mind. So he just suffered in silence, pushing his feelings deep down into a dark pit. 

Their studying hours went like that for a whole month, until one day Lucas suddenly offered to make dinner for the both of them, since his parents won’t be coming home till next day. Eliott was struggling deep inside, but he couldn’t say no those those giant puppy eyes. So they ended up in the kitchen, trying to make some sort of pasta, but it looked like neither Lucas or Eliott was a master of cooking. They ended up making sandwiches, throwing cheese slices at each other and laughing happily. At some point the short boy decided that they can’t sit around in silence so he started to play some music on their bluetooth speaker that was placed in the living room. 

“The Clash? Really?” Eliott looked at him, raising an eyebrow to which he got an angry look from the younger one. 

“You don’t like it?” he asked, puffing up his cheeks which made him look like a cute little squirrel. 

“I have a much better taste in music.” he said proudly, pressing out his chest to which Lucas just rolled his eyes. 

“Oh yeah? I don’t think so.” he said, crossing his arms. Eliott took that as a challenge, pulling his phone out of his pocket, pairing it with the speaker and he started to play his favorite piece from Skrillex. He closed his eyes, moving his body to the rythm and when the beat drop came in he started jumping up and down, swinging his arms around. When the song was over, he stopped, wheezing a little from the dancing and looked at the boy next to him. There was shock on his face first, but then he cracked into waves of laughter, sometimes ever snorring like a pig. Eliott couldn’t help it, but laughed with him. They were both a giggly mess when the night came and the older boy accepted to sleep on the couch. It was friday anyways, so he had no classes to attend to the next day, neither had Lucas. They decided to continue studying tomorrow, since the younger one’s exams were dangerously close now, he had to be well prepared for them. 

~°~

The room was hot and Eliott needed all his self-consciousness to not stare at the boy sitting across him, flapping his t-shirt up and down, trying to cool himself down, while also revealing a large piece of his stomach. They were in the living room, the tall one taking his place on the couch, while Lucas was on the ground, he preferred to sit there. Between them a small coffee table covered with books and notes, highlighters and pens. Eliott had to take a sip of the unpleasantly warm lemonade that was placed on the table for him, just so he won’t be drooling at the sight in front of him. 

“I can’t take this anymore.” she short boy was whining, stretching out his legs under the table, his naked toes brushing over Eliott’s feet, sending a weirdly giddy feeling through his body. He pulled up his legs now, crossing them in a lotus pose way to avoid any kind of physical contact with the boy. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked raising his eyebrows and he almost let out a relieved sigh when Lucas stopped flapping his shirt, making him feel a tiny bit more comfortable. 

“The heat, of course.” he said like it was completely obvious, and he wasn’t wrong. Eliott was just too preoccupied with his naughty thoughts. 

“Not like we can do much about it.” he shrugged and laid his head back to rest it on the cushion. 

“We could go out and eat ice cream.” he suggested and damn if Eliott wouldn’t have practiced saying no to this kid so many times, he would have agree to it right away. But he couldn’t do that. 

“No, your exams are on our neck, we have to study.” he said seriously, looking into those ocean blue eyes which were now filled with sadness. He knew that it was just fake to make him feel guilty and reconsider his answer, but it still affected him in ways it shouldn’t have. This boy might be a bit stupid, but he knew how to use his own charm to get what he wants. 

“Fuck exams.” he groaned. “And fuck literature especially. I am melting in my own skin.” he kept whining and laid back on the ground, stretching out his body and Eliott wanted to curse under his breath as the soft stomach was reavealed yet once again. He looked at the ceiling, trying to distract himself by counting the small cracks on the paint, but his betraying eyes were keep wandering back to the young boy. 

“You know that I’m being paid to kick your ass through that exam, right?” he asked, tilting his head to the side a bit. Lucas slowly pushed himself up, balancing his weight on his arms behind him, glancing at the older boy with a playful grin on his face. Eliott could think of multiple ways to wipe that off, making him blush and moan instead. 

“Oh come on, I got good points on my last two tests, I think I can get through the exam now.” he whined, pouting those beautiful cherry lips, his eyes going wide, almost like he was trying to imitate Puss in boots. Eliott sighed, rubbing his palms over his face knowing that he got defeated. It was too hot and he was too tired to keep resisting his own feelings. 

“Okay, fine.” he agreed and the squeaky noise Lucas let out made his heart skip a beat. The boy jumped up from the floor within seconds and before Eliott could react, he got a warm body pressed against his, thin arms wrapped around him. He needed to take a sharp breath, which ended up being a bad idea considering that all he could smell was Lucas. His soft hair was tickling his neck and his face. This only laster for like 10 or 15 seconds, but it felt ike hours, days even for Eliott, he wanted it to never be over, to stay there in the boy’s arms, inhaling his soft, soothing smell and feeling his hair on his face. When he pulled back, he flashed that toothy, sunshine smile he loved so much. It made him look like a happy child, but also made him look even more beautiful than usually, which should have been impossible, but since he got to know this kid, his view on life changed drastically. 

“Let’s go get ice cream then.” he chimed excitedly, grabbing Eliott’s hand and pulling him up from the couch. He groaned just a little to make it seem like he’s annoyed with the boy, but he was actually completely endeared. He would give everything to see him smile like this always. 

“Are we just going to leave your stuff there on the table?” he asked when they were almost at the front door, Lucas already putting on his shoes.

“Yeah, we can put then away when we get back.” he said smirking and now waited for the older boy to get ready. Eliott let himself flash a soft smile at him before slipping into his shoes, making sure he has his phone and his wallet in his pockets. When they were outside, Lucas closed the door, pocketing his keys and they started to walk down the streets. 

They were quiet through most of the way, Lucas humming some kind of melody Eliott couldn’t identify. The city around them was busy, people rushing through the streets, cars passing by them, making a soft breeze in the hot air. It was almost 30°C and still May. Everyone was wearing as less clothing as they just could, some girls almost flashing out their asses and boobs even. Normally the tall boy would have enjoyed those views, checking them out shamelessly, sending them a wink even, but right now all his attention was on the boy walking next to him. Examining every little detail on him, the moles scattered around on the soft skin, the sharp line of his jaw, his long eyelashes that were casting shadows on his cheeks which were slightly pink from the heat. He both loved and hated to see how many times the boy could lick his lips just out of habbit. Suddenly he felt like a deer caught in headlights when Lucas turned his head towards him, smiling softly. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice as soft as a light summer breeze, sending shivers down Eliott’s spine. Even with all the people around them, all the noises filling the streets, he kind of felt like they were all alone on the world. Just him and this beautiful human being. 

“Yeah, more than okay.” he let out without even thinking, but he regret nothing as the boy’s smile got even wider and his hand grabbed Eliott’s, squeezing it softly. 

“Good then.” he said happily and kept walking, swinging their joined hands between them like kids used to. Eliott couldn’t suppress his giggle, enjoying the warmth of the other one’s palm on his. 

They were walking like this until they reached a small coffee shop. The younger boy pulled Eliott inside, excitedly and he felt like forgot to breathe for a moment when he saw the interior of the place. The walls and the decoration was all in pastell colors, the tables dull purple, lavenders hanging in the corners, filling the air with their soothing smell. The sunlight coming through the giants windows lit up the place perfectly, no need for using the lamps. At the register there was standing a kind looking girl, wearing a pastell green apron. 

Before he could say anything, Lucas pulled him towards the ice cream display next to the register, looking at all the different flavors. Eliott smiled fondly and shot an apologetic smile to the girl who now walked to them, ready to scoop out the ice cream into cones for them. As the tall boy looked around, there weren’t many people inside, most of them were students, sipping on coffee while typing away on their laptops. He could understand it, since it was a busy season for students, so most of them had no time on weekdays to come out and stay at a coffee shop. 

“Welcome, what can I get you?” the girl, Hanna judging by the nametag on her apron smiled at them softly. Lucas blue eyes shot up from the sweets towards her, flashing a happy grin. 

“Hello, I would like a chocolate, a mint and a coffee flavored one.” he said excitedly, his hands still not letting go of Eliott. The girl nodded, scooping the chosen flavors into a big enough cone, putting some sprinkles on it even, which made the short boy let out a happy squeak. He took his ice cream from Hanna, starting to eat it immediately. The girl now looked at Eliott.

“What can I get you?” she asked softly, leaning forward just a little. 

“I just want an iced coffee, thank you very much.” he explained, not being big fan of ice cream anyways. Lucas glanced at him, pouting his lips between two licks of his dessert. 

“You should be eating ice cream too.” 

“I am fine with coffee.” he said softly and not even trying to resist the urge, he raised his hand, swiping his thumb over the boys lips softly. “You had some cream there.” he smirked, enjoying the deep red blush that was creeping up on those soft cheeks. Lucas stayed quiet now, letting go of the tall one’s hand and walking to a table not too far from the giant windows. 

Eliott stepped to the register where the girl handed him his coffee and as he took the glass he could feel her hands brushing over the back of his palms. He got shivers, but it wasn’t a good feeling. He pulled away, looking for his wallet to pay for their stuff. 

“Your brother is adorable.” she said as she was pressing the buttons of the cash register. Eliott raised his eyebrows, glancing at Lucas over his shoulder who was pretty much occupied with his ice cream.

“He is not my brother.” he stated, hoping that the girl will take the hint and stop trying to flirt. 

“Well, your total is 6,50€.” she said now, voice cracking just a little, realizing the awkwardness of the situation. Eliott handed her a 10 Euro bill and waved her off when she was looking for change in the register. He smiled softly before walking to the younger boy with the coffee in his hand. When he sat down, Lucas’ ice cream was almost gone, his face and even his nose stained with the sweet liquid. It was both disgusting and endearing.

“Should I get you a napkin?” he asked mockingly, sipping on his coffee after he sat down. Lucas shot him one of his disapproving looks, but it wasn’t much effective since half of his face was still buried in ice cream. 

“Fuck you.” he mumbled, biting off a big chunk of the cone, chewing on it. Eliott laughed at his childish behavior. 

“You know, the girl at the register thought you are my brother.” he said smirking after some minutes of silence and he had to suppress his laugh when the short boy chocked on his ice cream, coughing like crazy. 

“What?” he asked between two coughs, wiping off tears from his cheeks that spilled out as he was suffering. 

“You heard me.” he shrugged like he didn’t care, but he was actually watching every small reaction.

“That’s scandalous!” he said, with his messy hair and sparkly eyes he looked like an anime character. “I’m only two years younger!” 

“Are you aware of that you’re the same age as Imane and I’m the same age as Imane’s older brother, right?” he asked smirking.

“Yeah, but that’s different...” he mumbled, puffing up his cheeks after finishing off his ice cream. 

“Why is that?” he couldn’t get rid of the amused smile on his face, Lucas was just too adorable. 

“Because they don’t like like each other.” he mumbled and looked away, out of the window. Eliott suddenly felt like the air was punched out of his lungs, staring at the boy in front of him shocked. Through all these long weeks he thought he was hiding his feelings perfectly, keeping himself away from the boy as much as he just could, because he was sure Lucas was liking someone else. But here they were, in a nice little coffee, the boy not even looking at him after he just admitted that he likes Eliott. He like likes him. 

“Can you say...” 

“Oh no!” Lucas interrupted him, hopping up from his seat and walking to the window, basically pressing his face against the glass. Eliott was confused and shook for a moment, then he noticed what catched the attention of the short boy. It was raining like crazy outside, people running on the streets, trying to find shelter or wave off a taxi, cars splashing into puddles, wetting the innocent people on the sidewalks even more. He finished his coffee and walked to the boy, gently placing his hands on his shoulder, feeling his body shivering slightly from his touch. He leant forward, his mouth dangerously close to Lucas’ pink little ears. 

“Let’s go.” he whispered softly to which the boy snapped his head to the side and if Eliott didn’t have the reflexes, he would knock into his forehead for sure. He enjoyed the shocked look on his face though, and the feeling of finally be able to express these feelings instead of burying them. 

“Right now?” he asked confused, switching his glance from the tall boy back to the window. 

“Yeah, right now.” he smirked and pulled back, holding out his hand for the boy to take. “Or are you afraid a little rain?” he asked playfully, to which Lucas rolled his eyes, placing his hand into Eliott’s.

The older boy smirked happily, pulling him towards the door, rushing out into the pouring rain with him. They were running like crazy, screaming and laughing at the same time. Thankfully everyone around them was too busy trying to get away from the rain, so they could be happy idiots just running to basically nowhere. When they got tired finally, they found shelter at a bus stop. Both of them were wheezing heavily, leaning on their knees for support, soft laughter leaving their throats still. 

“You are crazy.” Lucas wheezed, trying to normalize his breathing. “I’m soaking wet.” he complained looking at himself. He looked beautiful with his wet hair sticking to his forehead, water dripping down from his face and his blue eyes sparkling from joy. 

“Maybe, but you are smiling.” he said smirking to which the short boy said nothing, still too busy with trying to catch his breath, “You look beautiful today.” it slipped out without even thinking of it and to be honest, he didn’t regret it at all. The shocked face Lucas made and the slowly appearing redness on his cheeks was worth it completely. He took a step towards him, to which the other reacted with stepping back, tilting his head up slightly to look into the tall boy’s eyes. They wew doing this game until Lucas backed into the wall of the shelter they were standing in, Eliott caging him by placing his hands on the wall by his sides.

“Eliott...” the name left his mouth like a soft whisper, almost getting lost in the noise that the pouring rain caused. 

“You can’t run away now.” he mumbled softly, leaning forward until their noses touched. “Can I?” it came out as a whisper, but he hoped that the boy could still hear him. 

“Yes, please.” 

Eliott needed nothing more, he took the last move, crashing their lips together, hands grabbing into wet clothes. He could feel the boy shivering in his arms, his fingers gripping onto Eliott’s shirt, pulling him as close as possible. Their bodies were basically becoming one as they kept tasting one another. The tall boy ran his tongue over Lucas’ bottom lip, asking for entrance and he didn’t had to wait long, the soft lips were parting, letting him deepend the kiss more.  He pressed the short boy to the wall even more, placing his knee between his legs both to help him standing and to rub his thigh on his crotch. The little moans that escaped the other’s throat between two kisses were making him go wild, wanting even more. He was waiting for this moment since he first saw him in that living room wearing a blue sweatpants that had tiny chilli peppers on it.  As he broke their kiss for a moment to let themselves catch a breath, he opened his eyes to examine the face of the boy. And fuck if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing he had seen. Lucas was glancing at him from under his long eyelashes, his eyes darkened from desire and that blissed out expression he had plastered to his face made his heart flutter in his chest. He couldn’t and honestly didn’t even tried to stop the wide smile spreading on his face when the boy opened his eyes more, looking at him and softly shaking his head, saying that he doesn’t want him to stop. So Eliott continued, pressing their lips together, They kept exchanging sloppy, toothy kisses, giggling into each others mouth for long minutes. 

This was probably the most chaotic kiss he ever had with anyone, but it still made him extremely happy. He enjoyed every moment he could spend with exploring the younger one’s mouth, inviting his tongue into a wild dance, their noses rubbing on each other’s cheeks. And when they finally pulled back again, letting out a breathy laugh, Eliott pulled the boy into his arms, who now happily wrapped his arms around the tall one’s body.

~°~

They were in Lucas’ bedroom, laying on the bed, legs entagled, kissing each other with slow passion. Lucas was grabbing into the tall boy, pulling him closer and closer while also trying to mimic his movements. Eliott wanted to show him how much he was enjoying this situation, placing his hand on his cheek, caressing it while they kept kissing, then sliding it under the neck of Lucas’ shirt, touching the warm skin. It was soft, just as he imagined through those hellish weeks when he thought that he will never be able to do anything like this with the boy. 

As the older one pulled back from the kiss, rubbing their noses together, Lucas opened his eyes slowly. He looked so beautiful in the dim light of the street lights coming through the windows. It was late and his parents could come home at anytime, but neither of them could care less about it. This moment was so soft, gentle and pure, it would be a waste to break it. 

“Am I your first?” Eliott decided to whisper into the space between their lips. Lucas’ gaze traveled up from his mouth now, locking their eyes. 

“First what?” he muttered, gently running his fingers up and down on the tall boy’s sides. 

“Your first boy.” he explained with a soft smile, caressing his cheeks gently. The other didn’t answer, just pursed his lips together, looking at him with an unsure expression. Eliott’s smile grew wider. “I take that as a yes.” 

“What about you?” he asked, surprising the older one with his bravery. He decided to follow the short boy’s example of not answering, just looked into his eyes with a playful smile and wiggles his eyebrows. Lucas looked beautiful as he bursted out in a soft, breathy laugh. “Okay, I see.” 

“I think I have to tell your parents that I can’t be your tutor anymore.” he whispered, slightly moving his head up and down to brush his nose on Lucas’. The boy looked at him confused, grabbing onto his shirt tighter. 

“Why are you saying that?” he asked, his voice filled with sadness and confusion, which made Eliott’s heart beat faster. His lips curled up into a happy smile, planting a little peck on the boy’s swollen lips. 

“I can’t ask money to teach literature to my boyfriend.” he explained. After that everything happened so fast, he suddenly found himself pinned to the bed, a searching mouth pressing against his while nimble fingers crawled under his shirt. He let out a soft moan as he felt the warm touch on his bare skin. His arms moving on their own wrapped around Lucas’ neck, letting him take over the control. And he wasn’t playing around, still kissing Eliott wildly, forcing his mouth to open so he could slide his tongue inside, exploring it even more, lit it was the first time they are doing this. Soon enough the tall boy’s shirt landed on the floor alongside with Lucas’ and they kept kissing, touching and exploring each other almost naked. 

Their happy bubble got bursted when they heard the front door opening and Lucas’ parents calling for their son. The young boy pushed himself up from Eliott, letting out an unpleasant groan that made the older one chuckle. 

“We should dress up.” he said softly to which Lucas just rolled his eyes. 

“They have the worst timing.” he groaned, slowly, really slowly getting up from the bed, looking for some clean clothes to put on. Eliott did the same, trying to fix his hair a little so it wouldn’t be too obvious that they were making out for hours now. Seemed like Lucas thought about the same as he ran his fingers through his disheveled locks, trying to push it back down a little. The tall boy stepped behind him, placing his hands on his waist and pressing a kiss on the back of his neck. 

“You are so beautiful.” he whispered into his skin, feeling the small body shivering under his hands.

“And you are such a sap.” he sighed, but didn’t pull away from the tall boy. 

“Let’s go down before your parents getting suspicious.” he chuckled and let go of the boy, keep standing behind him. Lucas glanced back at him over his shoulder, having a smug smirk on his face as he grabbed Eliott’s hand. 

“You are right, I gotta introduce them to my boyfriend.” he said proudly and both of them laughed as they walked down the stairs. 

SURPRISE *finger guns* I hope you guys liked this little Elu oneshot from me, I had to get it out before continuing P.S. I miss you, but I promise, I’ll be writing the next chapter soon. It was just nice to write something else for a short time. Make sure to leave feedbacks on it, I would love to read your comments about this little story. Bisous

[some-cookie-crumbz]

So, where's Kosmo in the married Kidge headcanon? I just imagine the kidgelings riding him around like a floofy pony.

*rubs hands together* Ho boi, I’ve been meaning to add one about this! When I first started the Kidge Family headcanons, Kosmo wasn’t a thing yet, but I’ve gotten pretty attached to him. Especially him and the Kidgelings!

This won’t be too long I think and my plan is as follows; how Kosmo’s behaves when Pidge is pregnant, how he is with the babies in general, and how his relationship with each of them changes as the kids get older. I’ll also talk a bit about him and Bae Bae’s little puppers, too.

So, let’s get this show on the road!

When Pidge gets pregnant with Amber, Kosmo doesn’t really realize that anything is going on until she starts actually showing/ changes start going on in the house. He’s initially a little confused as to why she’s putting on weight, but he picks up on it pretty fast. To him, he sees this as their little pack getting bigger and he gets really excited about and becomes the most affectionate, doting nanny/ guard dog there is. If Pidge goes upstairs to take a nap, he’ll teleport up with her – or, on days where she’s particularly tired or achy, teleport her there himself – and let himself be used as a big, wolfy pillow. Once each of the babies are born, he becomes immediately attached. As far as he’s concerned, they’re his pups, too.

He gets so upset when the babies are crying or making fussy noises or whatever. He loves them so much and he’ll get super anxious. He knows not to just teleport into their rooms without Pidge or Keith going with him, so instead he’ll just pace and whine and make a big fuss of his own.

Pidge jokes that the babies have caused both the men in her life to become neurotic. Keith can’t necessarily disagree.

So, for the most part, how he treats the babies is pretty much the same when they’re all really little. He gets super protective of them. Like, he’ll teleport anywhere that he’s allowed to keep up with them. He’s also really affectionate and patient with them. He’ll deal with pretty much anything the babies have to dish out; pulling his fur, patting him too hard, flopping on him like a pillow, you name it and he’ll typically deal with it. Pidge and Keith are both incredibly grateful that he seems to understand that the babies are too little to know any better and doesn’t hold it against them.

All the kids get to ride him like a horse. This is non-negotiable; he is so big fully grown that Keith could ride him without any trouble. You better believe the Kidgelings get to take full advantage of having a horse-sized wolf.

Some differences in dynamics start to present themselves as the kids get older.

Amber and Kaden, being as sporty as they both are, really like to play with Kosmo when they have the free time, but having the time is sometimes a struggle. During the week, both kids are booked solid between school work and their club/ sports team activities. On the weekends, though, they both make sure to spend some time with him. Amber will take him on walks and is always more than eager to let him cuddle up with her for a nap or, more often than not, some much-needed belly rubs. Meanwhile, Kaden will make sure to play with him. He actually teaches Kosmo how to play soccer, so they add that to their list of games along with fetch, tug of war, tag and hide and seek. With tag, they have had to attach a “No Teleporting” addendum that Kosmo follows when he feels like it.

Newt is, by far, the Kidgeling he is closest to, which I’ve mentioned before. Newt’s a bit on the socially-inept side when it comes to humans, but he’s phenomenal when it comes to handling animals. And Kosmo is, by far, his most favorite animal in the whole wide world. Newt’s the one most often taking him on walks, playing with him, bathing him, letting him sleep in his room, doing the whole Boy-and-His-Dog shtick; partially because he has less activities that allow him to do so and also because he makes the time for him. Newt considers Kosmo one of his best and only friends in the world and wants to make sure the space wolf is always happy. Kosmo has a brief stint of jealousy when Newt is allowed to keep a stray dog he found and started nursing, who ne names Smog, but Newt makes sure to let Kosmo know he’s still his favorite. He incorporates Kosmo in teaching Smog how to be a Good Boy™, which helps make Kosmo feel better about everything, as well as working to help he and Smog warm up to each other as well.

Aria spends a pretty good amount of time with Kosmo, despite her misgivings towards one of his pups later on. To her, Kosmo is kind of like a big, living stuffed animal. She does the most in regards to his “beauty care”, as she likes to call it. She handles trimming his nails and will spend hours brushing his fur for him. Kosmo is actually super picky about his nails in specific and only lets her do it, since she’s never accidentally snipped his quick. When they go on family trips where the animals stay home, Ari actually has to be sure to trim his nails the night before they leave. Other than that, she loves having him attend tea parties with her and her little stuffed animals. She even has a special little ribbon that she’ll tie into a bow tie when he attends; a black and silver ribbons with little shimmering star and moon shapes all over it. She also has some little business-style ties for him, too, but the ribbon is especially for tea party events.

So, let’s talk about those Cosmic Puppers, shall we?

Bae Bae and Kosmo have two litters of puppies; one litter between when Amber and Kaden are born, and the second one not too long after Ari turns four. Because they already have their hands full with a toddler, Keith and Pidge decide against keeping any of the four pups from the first litter. Commander Iverson takes the oldest, Kolivan and Krolia take the youngest, and Ezor and Zethrid take the other two. Kosmo and Bae Bae still get to see the oldest pup pretty regularly, and anytime they come to visit, the other pups come by too.

The pups names are as follows; Andromeda, Speckle, and Dip and Dop.

After their first litter of pups are gone, though, Kosmo has an adjustment period. He doesn’t understand that the puppies aren’t coming back and actually spends a couple of days freaking out about where they went and when they’ll be back. And then, he starts getting worried about Amber going away and gets super protective of her. He actually growls and stands in the way when Matt tries to take her to the backyard while he’s visiting one time.

That’s when Bae Bae steps in and explains to him how, exactly, puppies work on Earth. She explains that the puppies are given to other families, where they’ll get to live with new human folks who will love and take care of them, or that sometimes the family will keep a puppy for themselves. At first, Kosmo is still disgruntled about the whole situation but he tones it down a little; though he is still fiercely attached to Amber, simply for his own comfort. Those are his puppies – his family – and they should be with him! But then, after the first few weeks, they have a playdate with Iverson and Andromeda; Keith’s idea, as he hopes that seeing his puppy is okay will help cheer his wolf friend up. And Kosmo sees how happy his little pup is with this human, who dotes on her and speaks sweetly to her, and he realizes that it’s okay to let go a little bit.

Is Kosmo’s epiphany here a hint as to what someone else needs to learn later on? Maybe~!

With the second litter, there are five pups. Newt initially argues to keep all five, but quickly switches tactics to begging to just keep one of the puppies, swearing up and down that he can handle another dog. At first, Keith and Pidge are skeptical about it. Three dogs and four kids is already a lot to look after, and the idea of having two puppy-aged pooches in the house just seems like asking for trouble. However, they end up conceding because they live to make their children happy within reason. Newt gets to pick whichever pup he wants first, but it’s not a decision he makes alone.

“Okay, buddy, it’s a big moment!”

*Kosmo tilts his head, a bit confused, as he sits beside the gated area where the puppies are playing. Bae Bae’s napping in her plush bed off to the side.*

“Mom and Dad said we can keep one of your puppies! But now we gotta pick out which one it’ll be!” *He tilts his head, watching the four pups that are blinking in and out of existence as they play with a ball, then the little runt snuggled up napping with Bae Bae.* “Well, I know Auntie Acxa and Auntie Veronica are taking one. Sleepy Boots over there would probably be a good choice for them; mellow but still has a lot of that usual puppy spunk people look for in their doggy friends when she’s not sleeping.”

*Kosmo looks from him to the other four pups, understanding what Newt means and what they’re deciding. His tail starts wagging and he teleports himself into the play pen, bowing at the pups and running around with them for a bit. After playing for a while and tuckering them out a little bit more, he picks one of the pups up by their scruff and teleports back out, presenting the little pup to Newt.*

“Is he your final choice?” *Newt asks while taking the wiggling pup into his arms, giggling when he starts licking his face excitedly.*

*Kosmo lets out a little yip of agreement, solidifying his choice. The pup he’s picked has the most resemblance to Kosmo in regards to build and fur style/feel, but his coloration is more of the same cream/beige of Bae Bae, though he does have some little swirls of dark blue along his back and sides.*

“I think he’s the perfect pick, buddy!” *Newt reaches out and gently scratches behind one of Kosmo’s ears before they head upstairs to show his parents which pup they picked.*

Acxa and Veronica end up taking the sleepy pup, Kinkade takes another, Coran takes a third pup, and James takes the last. The remaining four pups that are adopted out are named as such; Vanilla, Hitchcock, Juniper, and Drizzle.

There are stories behind the names each of the two litters of puppies are given by their new owners but I’m not gonna go into that right now.

As for the pup the Kogane family kept, they end up naming him Wink. The name is chosen because, out of all the pups, he is the one who tends to use his teleportation the most; to both good and bad effects. Wink himself is a cheeky little pup and has a long list of stuffed animal murders trailing behind him. Due to this, Ari doesn’t like him as much as she likes Kosmo or Smog. Kosmo does his best to try and get his pup to act better, but it takes a good while before he understands that he can’t just teleport himself wherever he wants. Wink and Smog are also the best of friends, constantly playing together and snuggling up when they sleep.

Kosmo has a good, long and happy life with his humans and loves them with all his wolfy little heart.