#and this might sound sappy or idk but i feel like this calls for a change in my url

[europa-the-moon]

new url!

@dean-humanity-winchester -> @europa-the-moon

[titi-1188]

“Just for tonight”

“Take me with you. Please. Just for tonight.” Your heart clutches as his wide puppy dog eyes are looking up into yours, pleading silently. “Alright. Just for tonight.”

—

WARNINGS: Mentions of alcohol/being drunk

PAIRING: Felix x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k+

EXTRA INFO: Christmas, Idol X Regular Person, Lovers into Ex’s into Lovers again, ‘Forced’ breakup, Reader doesn’t care for holiday (Felix does), Drunk calls, sappiness, sobbing confessions, fluff STRICTLY SFW!!!!

A/N: As always, sorry for any mistakes, my english writing skills are NOT the best, I try to look over it and make sure everything makes sense to an outsider perspective of someone who ISN’T in my head but yk how it can be🩷 hehe i hope u like it!!! (can u tell idk how to write drunk people!)

Winter has never been your favourite season. It didn’t have anything to do with the weather or the short days, it’s the holiday that’s associated with it. The only person to ever make you like the holiday was your now ex, Lee Felix, who for the last 3 years has brought light into this usually dim holiday.

This will be your first Christmas without him, having broken up around four months prior due to both of yours busy schedules which led to never having the time for one another and constant stress and pressure, ending in the two of you hurting each other more than anything. What you didn’t know was that one late night phone call, will change your entire situation for the better.

On this cold winter day, after a full day of work, all you want to do is collapse onto your bed, forget about everything going on outside of the four walls of your room and go to sleep.

Which you manage to get done for a couple of hours, until you’re woken up by the familiar sound of your phone ringtone. You groan and reach over, not even looking at the caller ID as you decline the call, the red digits on the digital clock on your bedside table flashing ‘1:03am’.

As you go to roll over, your phone rings again. Frustration curses through your veins as you pick the phone up again, only to freeze as you read who exactly is calling you.

The name ‘Lixie’ flashes on your phone screen. You never had the heart to change the nickname or to block the number. You consider hanging up again but something in you wants to know why he’s calling you at this time and before you even realise it, you answer the phone and press it up to your ear.

“Hello?”, you ask, voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

A hiccup can be heard on the other line before a familiar deep voice can be heard “Y/N…hiiiii”, he hiccups again before continuing “Did I wake you up?”. His words are slurred and it doesn’t take a genius to realise he’s drunk.

“Yeah..you did”, you reply, trying to act casual and like hearing his voice again for the first time in four months doesn’t affect you in any way at all. “What’s wrong?”.

“Uhmm…I need help.”,he murmurs sheepishly, sounding slightly out of it.

“With what? Where are you Felix?”

“I went out to see the Christmas lights…and I got caught up at a stall or two trying champagnes..and I kept going and now I don’t feel my body”, he says, rambling quickly, sounding almost mind blown at his own actions.

“Felix..call one of your members to pick you up. Not me”, you say. Trying to sound stern. You wince as you hear the soft whine he lets out at the other end of the line.

“No!! Y/N you don’t get it..I wasn’t supposed to drink..or be out this late”, he whispers into the phone, as if he’s telling you a big secret. “If I come back to the dorm like this I’ll be in huge trouble!”

“Don’t you have anyone else to call?”

“…no”, he replies and you can hear the lie in his tone. You bite back a chuckle, he can *never* lie while drunk, for some reason he just always sounds really obvious.

“Please Y/N..it’s cold..”.

His soft ‘please’ pulls at your heartstrings and you just know you won’t be able to fall asleep after this phone call anyways so you might as well get him and bring him back to his dorm. “Fine..send me your location”.

“Yay!!”, he exclaims, giggling like a little child before abruptly hanging up and mere seconds after doing so, your phone pings as he sends you his current location. You sit up and silently brace yourself for this interaction you both will probably regret in the morning.

The streets are cold and empty as you drive towards him, your phone gps directing you to where Felix claimed he is. You try to stay calm but everything about this entire situation causes old feelings to resurface and you don’t know if you and your sensitive self can actually handle seeing him again.

In all honesty, neither of you wanted to break up. If it wasn’t for both of your circumstances you can confidently say that you’d still be together. Maybe that’s why neither of you removed each other on any socials, or blocked each other’s numbers. Maybe that’s why in his drunk state Felix could only think to call you and maybe that’s why you are actually driving over to a random spot in the city at 1am to get him.

You get to the street and park your car, stepping out, the cold air hitting your face. As you close the door and lock your car, you take a moment to look around your surroundings, you see the decorative lights on the trees and some, now closed, stalls. You decide to keep walking in the direction where the area was more lit.

It doesn’t take long to find Felix, sitting on the bench with his head leaning back, eyes closed. You take a moment to admire him silently, everything about him to this day was perfection and you’d be an absolute fool to try and deny it. He looked ethereal, basking in the soft lights with his blonde hair, freckled face and heart shaped lips that are currently curled up in a soft smile. You can see that his face is flushed from his drinking and you wonder if he’s asleep or does he always just look this peaceful.

You approach carefully as to not startle him too much. “Felix?”, you call out gently, the second his name is called his head whips up and his eyes open wide, smile growing as he sees your face. “Y/N!!”, he says, standing up quickly and almost falling over immediately, luckily you were within reach and caught him, stabling him.

“Be careful.”, you tell him and he blinks at you, clicking his tongue “I’m always careful, thank you very much”, he replies, an insane level of sass in his voice that takes you aback for a moment before he bursts into a fit of giggles. “Oh I’m so grateful you…came, Y/N…I literally feel like jello”, he slurs his words as he looks into your eyes, his face slightly dazed yet he still has recognisable sincerity in his face.

“I find it hard to believe you didn’t have anyone else to call”, you remark. He gulps, looking like a deer caught in headlights “I definitely did not have anyone”, he attempts to sound convincing but even to his drunk self he must sound pathetic because he groans and looks down at his shoes. “Fine, I won’t lie.”, he pauses for a second, hiccuping “I just wanted to see you.”, Felix looks back up into your eyes after his sudden confession and you feel a pang in your heart at the sight. “I’m sorry for waking you up”, he murmurs.

“No, no, it’s okay—I don’t mind”, you quickly say, wanting to make him feel better, suddenly feeling guilty about your earlier remark.

“Really?”, he asks. “Really.”, you reply, trying to sound confident at your own words.

“Come on, let’s just go back to the car and get you back to your dorm”, you say.

“No! I told you already..I’m not meant to be out! I can’t go back there like this!”, Felix whines, clutching onto your arm, his eyes looking up into yours. “Take me with you. Please. Just for tonight.” Your heart clutches as his wide puppy dog eyes are looking up into yours, pleading silently. “Alright. Just for tonight.”

Soon enough, you two are back in your car and instead of driving to his dorm, you’re driving the two of you to your apartment. Not something you planned for but apparently it doesn’t take much to convince you. Well, if it was anyone but him, you would like to hope you’d have more resistance but something about Felix just made any effort to say ‘no’ melt away.

You glance at him and a soft smile grows on your face as you see him leaning his head against the car window, breathing hot air onto the pane to draw random shapes with his finger. You feel yourself starting to reminisce and quickly avert your attention back to the road.

Apart from Felix’s soft humming and the soft wound of the engine running, the entire car ride is relatively silent and up until you pull up to your apartment buildings parking it stays that way.

During the ride home it started snowing, soft flakes falling down on the two of you as you led Felix towards the entrance. You make sure he’s standing up properly when you go to enter the security pin to enter the building. Once you get the door unlocked you turn to get Felix to follow you inside but you freeze for the millionth time that night seeing him.

This time he was leaning his head back, eyes closed, tongue sticking. You let out a giggle. “What are you doing?”, you ask.

“Waiting for a snowflake”, he replies quickly. “You can do that another time-it’s cold, let’s go inside”, you tell him as you continue to hold the door open.

He looks at you, then back up to the sky and back to you as if he was debating it before stumbling his way inside. You quickly follow in after him and close the door before making your way to the elevator. The entire ride up and during the small walk down the hall to your apartment, Felix is leaning on you, arm linked with yours and you can’t help but feel your heart beating just that bit quicker when he snuggles into your shoulder.

When you both manage to get into your apartment you take off your shoes and coat before helping him with his. The entire time he’s looking around, a frown on his face.

“What’s that look for?”, you ask as you hang his coat up, doing the same with the scarf he hands you.

“Where are your Christmas decorations?”, he asks “You used to have them up by now.”.

“I guess I didn’t get around to it this year”, you reply. Truth is, the only reason you’ve decorated your place for the holidays is because Felix used to help you do it. Without him and his slightly overwhelming Christmas spirit that brought joy to this holiday, you couldn’t find the motivation to even attempt at decorating, it’s not like you celebrated anyways.

“So we have to do it now!”, Felix exclaims, excited. “We can do the lights and the tree, hang up your stockings and-”

“It’s almost 2am, we’re not doing that”, you cut him off. “But Y/N-“, he whines but you start speaking again. “Another time..let’s get you to bed so you can sleep this off..you’re all red in the face..”.

You debate bringing him to either the living room or your bedroom, and before you can ask him which he’d prefer he goes off himself, almost tripping as he enters your room. You quickly follow after him and manage to catch glimpse of him collapsing onto your bed.

“I guess you’ve chosen where you want to sleep”, you say with a lighthearted tone as you walk over to the bed, helping him pull the covers up around him.

“Your bed is comfy~”, he says, a smile on his face.

“I’ll get you some water and painkillers for when you wake up”, you tell him and he nods at your words, snuggling into your pillow.

You return with the water and painkillers, placing them on the bedside locker, crouching down by the bed momentarily. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything Lixie”, you whisper, the nickname rolling off of your tongue naturally. He looks up at you, confused. “You won’t stay here?”, he questions, brows furrowing deeper.

“N-no, no I don’t think that’s a good idea”, you tell him. A pout forms on his lips instantly and he looks up at you again, utilising those puppy eyes of his. Even in this state he knows how to win you over. “Please Y/N…I won’t be able to sleep alone, I haven’t been able to sleep alone..I need you by my side”, he says, his voice a mix of whining and pleading “I want to get at least one more sleep with you”.

You’re going to regret this later but you sigh before making your way to the other side of the bed. The second the mattress dips under the added weight of your body Felix rolls over and grabs you, wrapping his body around yours. As you look at his face, you’re met with his dazed smile and flushed cheeks, your faces are too close for comfort, way too close for comfort.

“Comfortable?”, you ask, raising a brow. He nods before burying his head in the crook of your neck. Maybe he is too comfortable.

There’s a moment of silence where everything is peaceful, the only noise in the room being the both of yours breathing.

“Can you play with my hair like you used to?”, he murmurs, words still slightly slurred, but not as bad as earlier. “Of course”, you reply softly, your fingers going up to softly play with the hair at the back of his neck. He hums in content, burying his face deeper in your neck.

“I’ve missed you so much honey…my honey”, he whispers and it takes you a second to register his words and nickname. He misses you? His honey? While you were still together he loved calling you honey, claiming you were just as sweet if not sweeter than the nectar. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you shouldn’t have went to get him, brought him back here or got in the same bed as him. You’re about to say something, anything, to put an end to this when you hear light snoring coming from him. You look down and he is out like a light, his soft breaths warm against your neck.

Maybe as much as this is a bad idea, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to spend just one more night like this with him. You can’t deny that you haven’t missed it either, and that your sleep hasn’t been as good as it had been with him. Maybe you should just let yourself have this. That’s how you comfort yourself about this entire situation before falling fast asleep.

The next morning, you wake up, alone in bed. You look at the bedside locker and see the empty water glass and missing painkillers. Glancing at the clock the digits ‘10:06am’ flash red. Felix must’ve already left.

Or that’s what you think, until you hear clattering in the living room. You immediately shoot up in bed and get up. Walking towards the living room. The closer you get the louder the sounds of humming and shuffling around coming from the living room get.

Upon walking into the living room you simply stop in your tracks at the sight in front of you. Felix is decorating your living room. You watch as he is mid decorating your Christmas tree, back to you, mouth agape as you take in the sight of your living room. He’s already done with the fireplace, the small window display, and has put out the festive pillows and blankets onto your couch. You can’t tell whether you should be mad or oddly happy.

He still hasn’t noticed your presence as he’s humming some Christmas tune to himself so you clear your throat, grabbing his attention. He turns around, bauble in hand, looking like he just caught committing a crime.

“Oh! Y/N!”, he sounds surprised, as if he didn’t expect you to be here in your own apartment, “I hope you don’t mind—I wanted more water..and it just looked so sad undecorated and I know you wouldn’t have done it yourself because you’re a bit of a Scrooge but even Scrooge understood the Christmas cheer in the end so I just thought I could maybe-”. “It’s..okay”, you cut him off, looking around the place “You did a good job for someone that should be hungover..”, you flash him a small smile and he grins sheepishly at your words before you continue “Feeling okay?”.

Felix nods “Oh yeah-I don’t even feel hungover! Those painkillers literally got at my headache instantly, I feel as good as new, and I mean it was nice to get a good sleep..I only woke up like an hour ago..I slept like a baby honestly.” You nod at his words, leaning against your doorframe. He looks up at you,“..Did you sleep well?”, he asks, sounding a bit uncertain, almost like he’s scared to ask the question.

“I did”, you reply “Better than I have in a while.”

“Yeah..me too..if I haven’t made that clear already”, he chuckles dryly.

There’s a pause where the two of you just stand there in silence, and it is Felix who breaks it “I should probably go..I shouldn’t be bothering you like this..”.

“Wait no-”, you protest and he looks up at you, waiting for you to continue. “You already started decorating…might as well finish it right?”. “Right”, he nods, smiling. “Can I help?”, you ask and he nods.

You walk over to where he’s standing at the Christmas tree and neither of you have to say anything as you both go back to decorating it. It takes you back to the last Christmas you two spent together. Baking all kinds of treats like gingerbread houses, cinnamon rolls, Felix’s brownies, making your own decorations from scratch (paper snowflakes that after hours of attempting you both gave up on), listening to Christmas music and dancing together around the living room, but the memory that stuck out to you the most had to have been all your Christmas movie nights, where you’d cuddle on the couch with him under one of your various blankets and watched the most cringiest rom-com Christmas movies. You can still remember the way he’d hold you and trace shapes idly on your skin as you both watched the movie, snacking on whatever you two baked that day.

The two of you back then would have never thought you’d be broken up now. The two of you back then would’ve actually laughed at the thought. However the new year ahead had different plans for you both and everything led to the day you both mutually decided it would be best for the both of you to end things. Even then you sobbed in each other’s arms for an hour before Felix forced himself to leave.

Before you know it, your eyes are welling up with tears and Felix is looking at you concerned. “Y/N…”, he says your name shakily and you already know the second you look up his face will look exactly like yours does right now. One thing about the two of you was that you were both too sensitive and emotional for your own good, and when one of you started crying-so did the other.

As you two make eye contact, the tears just start falling and you drop the baubles your holding, causing a small clatter on the floor, before his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to him as he hugs you and you hug him.

“I miss you so much.”, he says through his tears. “I miss you too”, you reply, your head on his shoulder, slightly leaning into his neck. You can still smell the lingering smell of champagne on him but underneath that it’s just his innate smell that strangely brings you a tremendous amount of comfort.

“It’s been..so shitty..I didn’t think it could get worse but it did..I literally..”, Felix chokes out, sobbing. You understand how he feels. The breakup didn’t benefit either of you. On the contrary it made it everything worse. You nod against him to show him you get it and you just know you got the message across to him.

You stay like that for a little while until your sobs turn into sniffles and your legs start hurting from the standing. You both take a seat on the couch beside each other, legs touching.

“I would say I’m sorry for..calling and causing this but..I’m really not”, Felix admits, sniffling “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to see you more in my life ever than in the last four months last night..to me anyways, was the best opportunity to see you again.”

“Either way you’re forgiven”, you reply. “I think I’ve been trying to hide it but nothing got better like we thought it would.”

Felix lets out a small scoff, covering his face with his hands. “We thought we were doing the right thing…idiots…as if either of us could live without the other”. He peeks out at you through a gap in his fingers, trying to gauge out your reaction and it’s only when he sees a soft smile on your lips he puts his hands down.

“We…were acting like idiots”, you say and the two of you let out a chuckle. Almost in sync you both turn to face each other on the couch better, you tucking your legs on under you while Felix sits crisscrossed.

He reaches over, wiping your tears with a soft smile on your face before you mirror his actions on him. “Maybe…we should..just pick up where we left off?”, he asks with a look of anticipation on his face. “Maybe we should.” He takes ahold of your hand, interlocking your fingers together. “I love you honey, I always have and always will.”, he says and a smile breaks out on both of your faces. “I love you too sunshine.”

He drops your hand, only to grab you by the waist and pull you on top of him as he falls back on the couch, the two of you giggling. “Should we go out for brunch as a date?”, he asks, pecking your temple before resting his head on yours. “I think we should, as a nice treat”. “Good..I know a place”, he murmurs into your hair. “But first I want to finish that Christmas tree”. “But honey-”, he whines playfully. “Lee Felix we are not leaving until that’s done, no way!”. He laughs at your more authoritative tone. “Fine fine..I suppose we’ll finish it”.

“Did I tell you I love you?”, he asks, you can practically hear the grin in his voice. “Not enough”, you reply jokingly. “Well you’ll be hearing it a lot now”, he says before lifting your face up again to look you directly in your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

extra note: i’m trying to make a post including mh masterlist, fandoms and req rules but holy shit it’s a PROCESS. (my links aren’t working and i’m tweaking out)

[spiralinghours]

“Personal Assistant” Pt 6

Fandom: Saw franchise

Characters/Pairing: Mark Hoffman x fem/afab reader

Rating: PG-13? For this part maybe?

Tags/Warnings: feeding kink, belly kink, chubby Hoffman (duh obviously), bratty behavior, banter, switchy behavior for both characters, animal name calling/terms (lotta bear and maybe some pig and/or cat endearments here), general adult language

Summary: It’s Hoffman’s birthday so his secretary takes him out (even if her motivation is pretty selfish).

Author’s Notes: Written as a light, little distraction, so please enjoy—hopefully it’s a nice little distraction for you too.

None of these installments really take place in any particular order, btw. They’re just little slices of life.

WAY MORE emphasis on the feedery stuff in this one. Just be warned (or be excited idk).

As usual, there might be grammatical and spelling errors that I’ll try and fix later.

Hoffman begrudgingly (though still tender and endeared towards you) let you drag him around downtown, settling at some nice though generic enough restaurant that you had made reservations at. He wasn’t a man super keen and enthused about celebrations and milestones, which was why he moved hesitantly along when you sprung it on him that you were taking him out for his birthday. It took some investigative work on your own, under his nose, but in a workplace where everything about everyone was on record, in print, it wasn’t hard to learn his birthdate.

“Cheer up, you big grumpy bear,” you chimed, guiding him towards the restaurant entrance with a hand on his back.

“You must really be sweet on me to go to this trouble. You know I don’t care about this kinda thing.”

“Don’t make it sound sappy,” you hushed him. “Secretaries do shit like this for their bosses. Keep them organized and on task and content. It may as well be part of my job.”

“I dunno, darlin’. There’s a lot you do for me that isn’t necessarily part of the job description.”

“So don’t let it go to your big head, because maybe that’s for me. Anyways, you better say thank you. You’re gonna love it here.” You bustled around hautily, feeling as though you should have clipped a leash to your boss to get him to haul his ass. (“He’d probably like that,” you noted.)

His stern features softened, taking a moment to cast a glance down at you warmly. “I know I will, babydoll. Maybe I’m humoring you because you went to so much trouble. And you look so pretty.” His look took a sassy slant as he looped a finger through a loose strand of hair hanging by your ear.

“Oh yeah yeah,” you rolled your eyes (one time of hundreds to come that night). You leaned your head away, strand of hair untangling from his finger. “You’re humoring me? You act like you’re not excited to eat.”

“I think you’re the one excited that I’m gonna be eating,” he grinned in that smug feline way. He made a demonstration of grazing a hand over his softened belly, which you smacked lightly.

You took hold of his necktie (a nicer heather purple one you had picked out and left in his office that morning, almost as a threatening reminder of the occasion) and yanked it lightly, bringing his face down towards yours. “We can turn around and leave. Because you don’t sound so excited to have a nice dinner, birthday boy.” You sliced in the moniker like a cutting insult.

Hoffman enclosed his large hands around yours, still encircling his tie. “This is very sweet of you, and I would love nothing more than to have my very beautiful—and very hard ass—assistant spoil me and shove cake in my mouth for dessert.”

Your eyes lit up. “I’ll shove cake in your mouth if you’re good and finish all your food. All of it.”

“Whatever you want, honey. I’m on my best behavior tonight.”

You loosened your hand from his tie, letting your fingertips drift down his chest. “I’m gonna roll you outta here when we’re done,” you whispered, voice a little rough on the edges with excitement. But it was so goofy you had to giggle.

“That’s kinky, baby. I wish you would.” He gave you that snarky grin once again and let you drag him through the foyer by his jacket lapel.

—

You had sort of glazed over what all Hoffman had eaten, even though he let you order each course for him. The only vague reminders were the remaining dishes with crumbles of sausage and sauce, or some coated in chimichurri and bloody steak juices. A lot of meat and pasta for a big guy, you justified.

More attention was paid to how worn Hoffman was looking, and how he had adjusted his pants as he finished off each dish. You had noticed at two separate points his hands roamed downwards to undo some buttons; the first time was the lowest button on his shirt, which tucked uncomfortably tight under the curve of his belly; the second time was the main button on his pants, which would have been straining more obviously if not for his belt and suspenders keeping him strapped into his clothes.

You peeked under the table to confirm which buttons and other clasps had come undone. Grinning, you reached your high heel across the booth to toe at his gut teasingly.

You could see him wince slightly as he gripped your ankle and started massaging your calf—all an attempt to stop poking at his overfull belly.

“Please, baby, none of that now,” he pleaded softly, tiredly. He was so cute and pathetic with his sleepy blue eyes and his muffled little burps, all the while still tending to rubbing your leg (as if it wasn’t his own birthday that he should have been pampered on).

“So no cake?” you pried, eyebrows raised.

He looked at you somewhat defeated—all typical traces of sarcasm and cockiness dulled down (but never completely gone). “Can we take it to go? I think I need to lay down.”

“Of course, Hoffy-Bear. I’ll be nice about it since it’s your birthday. I guess.” You blepped your tongue out at him before gesturing towards the server for a little to-go cake and the check (on Hoffman’s card of course).

Once those final details had been squared away, you took your time getting up from the booth, savoring the way your boss heaved himself to his feet. The way he pulled himself up and out from the cushy red seating was such a feat, looking heavy and laborious. He hadn’t bothered fastening back up the two loosened buttons, but instead did the whole maneuver of hoisting his belt and waistband up with a small grunt.

He wasn’t the type to let on that he was struggling—at least not in public—and so kept his whining and wincing under his breath… Though his shallow breathing was hard to mask. Especially with the foolish attempts to suck in his gut, which barely moved with his inhale, so it rounded out burdensomely in front of him. Being so stuffed and moving so cautiously only emphasized the distinct waddle in his gait.

“Need help?” you couldn’t help but pipe up, spikes and lace all in your tone. As you stood, you placed one hand on his lower back—as you had when you all had entered—but the other secured firmly to his stomach, all solid and warm.

“Thought you were gonna be nice,” he grumbled at you.

You just giggled, guiding him out with slow, steady steps.

—

“Comfy, sir?” you inquired in an overly-babying tone.

You two had hauled it back to your apartment (Hoffman was seldom big on having you over at his, blaming the lack of comfort or too much mess) where you had let your boss settle back onto your bed. Lacey, silky trimmings fluttered around him as he took in the comfort of all your pillows under his back and head.

He didn’t quite answer, though he looked to be on the brink of sleep: eyes shading down lower than usual, blue irises glassy. A fragile “Mmmm” left his lips.

“Too tired for that birthday cake?” you prodded.

“Ugh… I guess not. Not if you promise to be sweet on me if I eat it.”

“Of course, Hoffy. Anyways, you gotta blow out your candle and make a wish.”

He nodded incoherently, allowing you the moment to retrieve the cake in the kitchen and plate it up with a single lit candle.

When you returned, seating yourself within the little room his lap allowed, he had groggily repositioned himself so that his suspenders were undone and slack at his sides, with one hand enveloped beneath his undershirt, and the other clutching one of your stuffed animals in the cleft between his chest and his tummy. It was too adorable. If he was more awake to catch you gawking he would’ve barbed something smart off at you. But he was so damn tired.

“Okay make a wish,” you instructed, cake held out in front of his face.

“Not even gonna sing to me, huh?”

“Do you really want me to?”

You exchanged shit-giving glances before he blew out the little flame. You immediately scooped a heaping bite of Devil’s Food onto the fork and poised it before his lips, your other hand gingerly propping his chin up.

Without question, he slid his mouth over the fork, pinkened thick lips becoming slick with frosting and saliva.

The motion repeated in silence, save for some quiet groans and hiccups on his part. The thing was, the slice was bigger than typical—really meant to serve two to four people.

“Such a good boy for finishing all that,” you cooed with a slight edge of condescending playfulness. “Whatta big bear.” You set the plate aside and gave his belly a light but firm pat. Other than the very obvious visual evidence, you could feel how stuffed he was in how his gut barely had any give to the touch, under that black, stiff, starched fabric. Only a solid wobble as he shifted around and breathed.

“Ugh, I feel like going into hibernation. You don’t need to coddle me like that,” he snipped, too incapacitated to sound threatening.

“Maybe I wanna. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“Nothing I guess. Too full of cake… Which is entirely your fault.”

You were about to sass him for such choice words, when you decided to indulge in the situation instead. You spread your fingers over his broad sides, brushing up against the dips of his love handles, and raked your touch in a deep massage.

Hoffman squirmed slightly, a tiny frustrated grunt bumbling from his lips. “Knew it.”

“What?” you feigned offense, not relenting at your soft, slow presses into his bulk.

“This wasn’t for my birthday, this was so you could get me all fat and sleepy and play with me like I’m some kinda toy.”

“Aren’t you? My big stuffed bear,” you laughed lightly.

It was his turn to roll his eyes at you. Nonetheless he reached a hand over one of yours, guiding your smaller palm around his gut. “Right there… Ah… Yes. Like that. A little softer, please.”

“Usually I’d give you shit for trying to micromanage me, but I did promise to be nice.”

“That’s right.” Hoffman pinched your chin with his free hand.

You undid the rest of his shirt buttons, looking over how the tight white shirt underneath had rolled up over the curve of his stomach.

“I know it’s not typical,” he went on, “but would it be so bad if I fell asleep here tonight? I’m fucking exhausted.”

“You don’t have to work tomorrow?”

“I made a point to take tomorrow off. So if I’m not at work, neither are you.”

“I can’t argue with that,” you murmured, roaming your hands up to his face, pushing away the unkempt curtain of black hair that had previously been slicked back. “Well, I’ll be sure to get up early anyways. Gotta make you a decent breakfast.”

[accihoe]

i’m sorry you received bad news recently :(

your dave fic was so good, it’s nice for someone to write him soft and sappy it was so cute i’d love if you could write more!!

love ur blog and hope u feel better 🌙✨

Hi there!

Thank you so much for being so kind, it means so much to me.

And I'm super thrilled that you loved the Dave fic!!

Your kindness is much appreciated❤️.

Since you added a moon emoji, I thought I might incorporate that into the story.

Here's a little something just for you <3

Moonlight 🌙

Pairing: Dave Mustaine x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is awoken at night to an empty bed and seeks out for Dave. She finds him in one of the most heart-warming spots.

Warnings: mention of drugs like once

A/n: This will be sappy again. Thank you for reaching out, kind person, I appreciate you!

Also idk why but for some reason it's easier for me to write Dave fics in first person or a more personal narrative.

Xxxx

Y/N shifted onto her side, eyes blinking open and staring into the abyss of the dark room. With no idea as to why she was suddenly awake, Y/N reached out for her beloved, expecting to feel his warm skin and to pull him closer.

But she was met with cold, empty sheets. Perhaps he'd gone to the bathroom, she thought. But no, it was unlike Dave, and she heard no sounds from the bathroom. Y/N sat up, scanning the dark room for any sign of him.

She saw a small beam of light from the door that was creaked open only slightly. Perhaps he was thirsty? No, that's what they kept water in the bedroom for. Y/N slipped into her slippers and got up, fixing the strap of her silky pink nightwear and walked to the door.

She pushed the lavish door open. Her mind was flooded with memories from her apartment, her old creaking door, and how Dave promised he'd make it big and spoil her with a large house, which was exactly what he did.

She slipped out into the passage, following the stream of light. Thankfully, the upstairs floors were carpeted, so she wasn't making a noise on the floors.

"Honey?"

Y/N called out gently, not wanting to startle him.

There, Y/N found him. He was perched on the thick windowsill at the end of the passage, knees hugged to his chest, staring at the moon lit night.

She closed the remaining space, standing beside her husband.

"What're you doing up, darling?"

He asked, turning his head so that his cheek was resting on his knee.

"Bed was cold without you. And I should be asking you."

She tilted her head with a smile. He inhaled deeply, in thought, and turned his head back to the window.

His beautiful hair was tied loosely at the nape of his neck, shorter bits free, framing his handsome face. Y/N could see the frown etched on his brows, the deep worry hanging over him. His shoulders were slouched, contrasting to their usual proud and rigid stance.

Y/N reached out, laying a hand on his ankle. She stroked her thumb across his soft skin, urging him to let her in.

Dave took another deep breath, looking at the moon as he spoke.

"I dreamt about that again. About them. They day they kicked me out."

Though many years had passed since, Y/N could see that the hurt still weighed deep on his chest. She gave his ankle a gentle squeeze.

"I dreamt about different scenarios of what could've happened. Where I'd be now, with them. It was... it was nice to have my buddies back. We were all laughing, smashing watermelons. Just like we used to."

Y/N listened, his words weighing heavy on her own chest.

"I think you should maybe consider talking to them again."

"I don't know if I can. It still hurts so much. And when I do talk to them, I want to confront them. I want to know the real reason they kicked me out."

Her heart cracked more, knowing he still went without knowing the actual truth. Y/N kissed his calf, leaning her chin on his other knee. Dave smiled down at his wife, grateful for her presence. Even her silent presence comforted him.

"Why are you even out here anyway? You could've woken me up, love. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. But I didn't want to disturb you. Besides, the moon brings me peace. It reminds me of you. Obviously, I couldn't light up the room to see your beautiful face and bother you at who knows what hour. So I came here. Here to the moonlight. Here where I know you sit and wait for me, where you stare at the same moon and pray for my arrival."

His words shot into her chest, the sincerity, the way he knew her like the back of his hand. Y/N wrapped her arms around what she could reach of Dave, hugging him tightly. Her heart was at the verge of bursting, overwhelmed by her love for the man before her.

Dave looked at her rings shimmering in the moonlight.

"And in the other part of my dream, you left too. My drugs got in the way of us. You couldn't handle it anymore."

Y/N didn't know how to respond to Dave. His usage had been a tender topic in their relationship. But she knew he needed reassurance.

"Angel, I'm not leaving. This", she brought her hand up.

"ring, is but a mere symbol of my love for you. As long as my lungs fill with air, so long shall I love you. And even thereafter. You may have a problem, you may not. But that's what I'm here for. I'm your wife. And I'm going to help you through it. Alright?"

She leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm supposed to be the rock of the family. I'm supposed to be protecting and comforting you. "

He said softly.

"You do, Dave. But that's not what I need tonight,"

"....It's what I need."

He finished her sentence after a few moments.

"Come to bed, it's warmer there."

Y/N pulled away, holding her hand out. Dave took her hand, hopping down. Within a swift moment, he scooped her up, bridal style, catching her by surprise. Y/N laughed, hand on his chest.

"Just like the night we got married."

She grinned.

"It was full moon too then."

He observed.

"Ohhh, we better go hide from the wear wolves."

Dave sped up his pace, and once he'd laid her down on the bed, he locked the door, tugging on it to make sure it was locked. He shimmied up the bed and underneath the covers, worming himself to where he was half laying on top of her.

"There we go. Safe and sound."

Y/N hummed, cradling a hand through his loose fringe. She raked her nails over his scalp, scratching through his hair at the base of his skull. Dave groaned, face dropping into her chest. She felt the tension ooze from his body and disintegrate into nothing.

She took his hand, kissing over his ring, and then his palm, holding his palm to her face.

"I love you, David Scott Mustaine. And know that you are not shaking me off very easily. You're stuck. At least until one of us leaves this earth."

Dave smiled at her words, moving his chin to rest on her chest so that he could stare up at her, even though she was barely visible.

"Ditto, darling."

He husked, vocals strained from the position of his throat. Y/N leaned down, pressing a kiss between his brows.

"Get some rest, handsome. We've got a long day of doing nothing waiting for us."

He chuckled at her joke and turned his head, resting his cheek against her chest. Y/N stroked his hair away from his face, dragging her nails across his cheek and jaw.

Both fell asleep within in minutes, and when the first beams of sunlight creeped past the curtains, Y/N was awake. They were still in the same position. Y/N took that as her chance to admire Dave.

His long lashes fluttered over his cheeks as he dreamt, though she could tell by his expression it was a pleasant dream. Soft freckles were scattered across his fair skin, cheeks and nose rosy from sleep. His lips were puffy and slightly parted from sleep. And his ginger locks were sprawled everywhere, hairtie lost somewhere in the bedding. Y/N used her hands to gently gather the curls, smoothing them down to relieve them of the sleep friz.

Dave stirred, shifting. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. As soon as they were open they were on Y/N.

"Good morning, handsome."

"Good morning, beautiful. I had the best dream."

Y/N raised a brow, intrigued.

"We had triplets!"

Xxxx

Hope you liked it. Thanks again for your kindness.

[stokesy55]

For the anon who wanted Yash/Mitch headcanons, here goes!

1. Nicknames: Mitch, I feel, would have a very typical nickname for Yash. Something along the lines of honey, sweetheart or sugar. Yash would definitely call Mitch by a Hindi nickname. Maybe he calls him Mishti? It's a Hindi and Bengali word meaning sweet. And it sounds a bit like Mitchy. Idk Yash calling Mitch as "Mishti" is cute in my mind. 😅 Thoughts?

2. Yash can drive, but he doesn't have a licence nor is he bothered enough to get one, so Mitchy is the chauffeur whenever they have to go anywhere. Yash offers to drive the car, but Mitch always refuses. Yash however, can drive a bike, and has a license for that, so he often takes Mitch for bike rides around Mumbai late at night. They go to the various beaches, or sometimes, Yash takes them on impromptu dates to nearby hill stations like Lonavala or Khandala or Matheran. All these places are around 2 hours away from Mumbai. Mitchy is dead scared of Yash's driving though, the boy can never seem to take the bike at any speed less than 150 kph. Yash enjoys the thrill though , and Mitch clinging tight to him because of fear is an added bonus that comes with the pace. 😂

3. Yash is surprisingly good at cooking; growing up alone and penniless on the streets of Mumbai ensured that he quickly learnt all the skills necessary for survival. Initially he cooks exclusively Indian food, but after getting together with Mitch, he learns how to prepare European dishes for his boyfriend. Vice versa for Mitch, he learns how to cook Indian delights for Yash. Now, they love to cook together, with songs playing in the background, and it's just sweet and domestic.

4. Speaking of songs, Yash is a sucker for romantic old Hindi songs, like from the 1960s-90s. Back when Mitchy was playing hard to get, Yash loved serenading him to old Bollywood songs. For context, a lot of old Hindi songs are picturised upon a guy trying his hardest to woo a haughty and indifferent woman who is immune to his charms. Considering how well it fits their dynamic, Yash sings flirtations songs for Mitch every time he enters the room. He provides the translations too, which are so over-the-top that Mitch can't help but blush. Now that they are dating, they twirl around together to slow, romantic Bollywood songs while it's raining outside.

5. Mitch is an old school romantic, so he secretly adores all the cheesy and sappy stuff. Cue him always bringing roses and chocolates for Yash, and playing guitar for him. Yash in return, writes horrible poetry for Mitch that the older pretends to love. Before they started dating, Yash used to send Mitch cringe love letters. Mitch circled all the grammatical mistakes made by Yash in the letters with a red pen and sent them back to him. 😂

6. Yash is only passably fluent in English; Mitch takes it upon himself to improve his diction and proficiency in the language. Cue Mitch blowing the dust off his 15 year old grammar textbooks and sitting Yash down with a set of exercises to complete. Yash gets so pouty because "Are you my boyfriend or my teacher? 😒"

7. Yash cries when Mitch announces retirement. Despite that, Yash always makes Mitch bowl to him at their indoor nets, and Mitch doesn't mind, because it helps keep him fit after cricket. Mitchy does commentary after his retirement and can't stop gushing about Yash on coms. Every time Yash scores a century, he blows a kiss to Mitch who's either in the comm box or in the stands to cheer him on.

8. They get married Indian style because Yash is adamant on a big fat Indian wedding. Pat helps Mitch a lot with all the rituals, because he went through them all when he married VK. Pat and Mitch love having their beer sessions where they lament about how both big strong Aussie bowlers got charmed by two chirpy Indian batters 😂

These are all for now! Might come back with more haha 😅 Hope you liked these! 🥰🥰

Here you go, Yash/Mitch fans!

[teddybeartoji]

OK HERE ARE MY NOTES AND THOUGHTS FOR THIS be prepared for a lot of love love love

first of all I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR TAKE ON THEM (and i love that even though the duo is the same we had different ideas for them i just think it's very cute)

(we still share some motives though!!)

love the childhood friends trope it always gets me going

the way gojo cares for the reader; how he insists that they're just as important aaaaaaaa they have my heart fr

how he later complains that the others are "treating them carelessly" and he seemed so upset about it??????? yeah he's the one

"satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going" FUUUUUUCK

i love how you describe EVERYTHING; it feels soooooo satisfying to read it's like i'm there i can see and hear the same things as them - i can feel everything they do

love how gojo is somewhat (read: very) spoiled and he always gets what he wants but again the main things he wants is for the reader to have a good life

ok sorry these points are all over the place but i have to say again that i adore the reader - i see a lot of myself in them; feels so good to read something when you truly feel connected to it

"he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe." CLINGING TO YOU LIKE HE NEEDS TO BREATHE

"you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus." ARI YOU'RE KILLING ME YOU REALLY ARE they way you write is exceptional

AND HIM CALLING THE READER "HIS LITTLE KNIGHT" STOPPPPPPPPPPPPP I WILL CRY

but omg when he got upset when the reader called him "my prince" WHEWWW

gojo really would be a perfect prince i can so see it in my head; the most charismatic man in the kingdom and nobody would dare to tell him no, the beautiful smile he's sporting is a bit scary itself - something about it that just makes everybody just follow him

"the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying." THIS THIS THIS

"something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him." insanity

suguru calling him a "try-hard" is really funny i laughed at that idk that just seems right

if he made a throat cutting motion i would not know whether he's joking or not i'm not even gonna lie

i think complimenting a person's smile is literally my favourite thing ever i just overall love smiles so much and laughter!!! might sound really sappy but idk i love hearing people laugh

and satoru's smile is just extraordinary he's my favourite sunshine

THE LITTLE KNIGHT AGAIN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

can you imagine being able to fluster the prince????? broooo

i love when writers use the same exact quote from earlier on it hits different

and imagine calling your own personal knight a "scaredy-cat" prince satoru really is something else smh

"HIS KNIGHT" MY THROAT IS CLOSING UP I CAN'T BREATHE

kissing something better is also suchhh a cute little thing especially in a teasing manner hehehe

laughter and satoru walk alongside; i know it'd feel so freeing to joke around with him

and oh, to lay in the river with him; to rest your head on his chest - listening to his heartbeat

HE ABSOLUTELY WOULD SMELL SO GOOD IT'S NOT FAIR

”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.” ari i don't feel so good

KISSING HANDS IS ALSO MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

SO SPECIAL AND SOO SO SO INTIMATE

"it's you. it's all for you" CRYING THROWING UP I'M LITERALLY IN THE ER AND ON MY WAY TO THE FUCKING FUNERAL HOME

i can't stop repeating how much i love everything in this bUT I MEAN IT OK i love the softness of the moment; resting your face in the crook of your beloved's neck - him caressing your back wahh

just the two of you under the stars

fuckk

��i think i was born to meet you.” YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

i was born to read this i was born to have this engraved inside my brain thank you again this changed me

how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only rly hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look crosses over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes. 

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air, and you breathe it in. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 

his knight. his favourite knight.

“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere. “— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.

his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.

”i can take care of myself,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then; 

“i’d do it, you know.”

a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

after a moment’s pause, he shakes his head. cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.

enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

[smallestapplin]

One of the sweetest moments to me in my relationship was when I lost track off my husband (then new boyfriend) in a toys r us. He over heard me asking a worker to help me find my boyfriend and the look on his face was so cute when he explained how sappy it made him to hear me call him my boyfriend 🌸🌸🌸

Do you think sometime you could write a reaction to the subway bros separate or together hearing their s/o claim them innocently? I was laughing at the idea of someday teasing Emmet by saying something like "and I am Mrs. Emmett" after his classic introduction 😂 or imagine how cute Ingo would find his s/o if he saw them asking for help from the other subway workers with finding their boyfriend so they can bring him lunch. They're just so sweet and cute and now the whole station knows how lucky he is 😳

(I've really loved all your content! 💕💕💕 Please feel free to just ignore though if not inspired)

Oh my that’s actually really cute🥺

Using the last name Trevithick, cause I’m googling and it’s the last name of a locomotive engineer, so we are rolling with that, that and it’s the one last name that sounds like you’d actually find it in game, idk if anyone else has done this tho, so just in case.

Asks closed

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🔲Ingo🔲

You’ve been to Gear station plenty of times, you always bring Ingo lunch since he likes to skip on those.

The only issue today is he isn’t in his office, Emmet isn’t around either so you can’t ask him for help.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you but I’m trying to find my boyfriend so I can give him his lunch, so you know where he might be?”

You asked a depot agent nicely enough, forgetting a description of your long term boyfriend.

It wasn’t needed cause Ingo heard you when he rounded a corner. His heart melting when you called him yours.

“Ah! My dear, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by.” Ingo rushes over to you.

His frown softening when you smile at him and hand him a lunch bag.

“You forgot your lunch this morning, so I had to make sure you eat.”

A light pink coats Ingo’s cheeks “thank you beloved, come now, join me in my office, I wish to spend time with you before you have to depart.”

A few depot agents can only stare in envy but not for long “they are so fucking cute together.”

“I know right!? I’m getting a cavity just looking at them!”

🔳Emmet🔳

You were visiting Emmet at work, and it’s not surprising that you get along with the employees. You find them to be great company and they seem to actually like you.

You were talking with one, Jackie, while waiting for Emmet, he called a while ago saying he’d be down soon.

Emmet had just gotten to the bottom of the stairs. He can see you at the front desk chatting away when another depot agent runs up calling for you.

He watched you turn around and give a smile “I am Mrs.Trevithick, yes?”

It took the alabaster man a second before he completely lost it, a loud squeal echoing in the station before you’re being picked up in a tight spin hug.

“Oh my darling.” He places several kissing on your face “I love it! I love it! I love it! Again please!”

He really likes it, it’s a subtle thing that you do, but he can’t get enough of it. He gets all blushy and giddy every time you do.

[moonoo-yaps]

not necessarily like I'm uncomfy with anything and remember that labels generally aren't too important (depending on the person of course) but I personally just like having the funny little words that define me because then it makes it easier yk

although when I say "easier" it's more so for me like obviously if I use labels that most people don't know about then I'd have to explain it anyway and it's kinda weird bc it's like I'm demiromantic and possibly also recipromantic but if I explain those in really basic terms it kinda sounds like "if I were to fall in love it would be with a close friend that feels the same way about me :)))"

before I go more in depth this is more just my perspective on this it's fairly general but I know with most identities it can vary from person to person so I'm not speaking for anyone other than myself 🙏

for me being demiromantic is like I really don't see myself being comfortable at all with being in a romantic relationship unless it's with someone that I can call my best friend - I wanna fall in love with someone that I can trust and makes me laugh and oughdhjdjdjdjfjdjdjf :(( just sappy shit atp but idk I just wanna be with someone I've known for years atp but it's not like I have many friends that fit that criteria so uh 🧍 oops

moving on I'm considering using recipromantic as a label which basically means I don't feel attraction unless the other person is attracted to me as well (this ones kinda a weird thing to think about bc I don't think I've had anyone genuinely confessing to me or anything so that's why I never rly settled on it)

I do wanna use that as another label (even just keeping in the back of my mind rn) because I do tend to feel weird when I try to consider if I've ever been attracted to a friend or anything and it feels wrong to think about 😔 I keep being like oh even if it's just a private thought it's still kinda weird to think about my friends like that they might be uncomfortable but like??? am I just telling myself that bc I'm uncomfortable???? maybe both but I realise it really is more just that I don't like the idea of crushing on someone that doesn't feel the same way

sometimes it's hard to figure out stuff since again I've never experienced anything related to romantic attraction and it could also possibly be that my brain is forcing myself away from things to not get hurt but I've been comfortably using demiromantic for a while and I feel like being recipromantic also makes sense in my head at least for now

about to purge my account again but anyway been thinking about labels a lot

[reidsnose]

Black Eye

overview: reader and spencer go to reader's highschool reunion as a fake couple

genre: fluff i think

warnings: mild violence and swearing, a guy being kind of a total creep, and mentions of bullying

a/n: idk if its any good again just love the idea but it was inspired by a dream i had last night (thank you temporal lobe) so yeah let me know what yall think !! :) also im posting this at like ass oclock in the morning so whoops

masterlist

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you and spencer had gotten yourselves in quite the situation.

your dreaded highschool reunion was just around the corner and you made the mistake of complaining about it to penelope. she was always trying to make everyones life easier (and more interesting) so when she heard you had no date she took it upon herself to find you one.

it didn't take a lot of looking, none at all actually; because Penelope had already been trying to figure out ways to get you and Reid together.

you two were undeniably perfect for each other. you were an amazing team at work, you hung out alone all the time (though both of you denied these hang out as being dates, Garcia had her own ideas on this), and you were both very obliviously head over heels for each other.

and somehow, through the magical ways of Penelope Garcia, you and Spencer were now sitting in the parking lot, fake married for your high school reunion.

"do we need to go over our back story again?" you worried, looking up at him.

"our backstory is basically all true anyway we just fall in love after a little bit. and i have an eidetic memory so i remember; you're my wife you should know this!" he joked, trying to relax you. "we got this! we're gonna be so married!"

Spencer had actually never been this nervous in his life but he was trying to be brave for you. it would be more embarrassing for you both to show up like nervous wrecks than if you had just come alone. he was just happy to get to be fake married to you.

"the marriedest!" smiled, fist bumping him.

"now lets go make some people jealous!" he chuckled getting out of the car and jogging over to your side, opening your door before you got the chance to; like a true gentleman.

you stuck out your hand which he happily took into his, neither of you commenting on the redness you both had sprinkled across your cheeks. as you walked in, you saw all the people you dreaded seeing.

the boys who tormented you were balding and the girls who made sure you felt awful everyday had wrinkles riddling there skin. you were surrounded by botched botox and bleached blonde to cover graying hair. you felt terrible to admit it, but you were a little happy to see that their beauty had faded like this; they made their looks their whole personality in high school, you couldn't help but wonder what was left for them to be. not that it mattered, but you and Spencer were undeniably the most attractive couple there.

you actually had an ok time, you had spotted a few of your friends that you hadn't seen in quite a few years and it was nice to catch up.

Spencer had wondered a bit, but not too far, he was talking to some guys who used to be in science club when you were younger. you smiled at the thought of what they might be talking about.

"y/n! hey youve really filled out!" you heard a gruff voice from behind you.

you turned around and were met with the very unappealing face of the ex quarterback. Spencers attention had been caught at the sound of your name.

"um..hello," you muttered, trying to covertly back away from him.

"i see youve got a ring, interesting i dont remember us getting married!" he said in an incredibly creepy tone.

"do you know im a federal agent now?" you said through a gritted smile.

spencer had already begun walking towards you, he could tell something was off.

"ill tell you what sweetheart," he put his hand on your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer to him, "you can put me in handcuffs any day."

you threw his hand off of you and drew back your fist, but were cut off before you could deliver the punch but his hand engulfing your own, and squeezing.

"THATS MY WIFE!" spencer yelled in a voice you had never heard from him before.in the blink of an eye he was standing between in front of him. "do not ever talk to her like that, let alone lay a finger on her or so help me God i will-"

"what beanpole? what are you gonna do? what if i did this?" the man asked.

and then he sent a swift punch to Spencer's face.

thats gonna leave a mark.

in a matter of seconds, Spencer had him overpowered, laying face first on the floor with his hands uncomfortably angled behind him, completely helpless.

"now i'm going to let you go and you're going to walk out of here unharmed. if you try anything like that again, ill let my wife handle you. and i promise if she gets a hold of you, you'll be a dead son of a bitch." Spencer muttered in the mans ear, gruffly pulling him up by his collar and shoving him towards the door.

"were leaving." you said, grabbing Spencer's hand, trying to ignore how incredibly attractive he looked right now.

"babe if you want to stay we can stay," he offered as if he didn't just have his shit kicked in by a coward with misogynistic tendencies.

"honey, i want to take you home," you smiled, liking the way it felt to call him a pet name. you walked into the parking lot, "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking this guy is trying to hurt you and i was not going to ever let that happen." he answered confidently as you two reached the car. "plus this totally made the marriage thing more believable. i wouldn't get a black eye for just anyone."

"thank you. i'm sorry you got punched trying to protect me." you sighed, feeling incredibly awful about the whole thing.

he chuckled, "id do it again."

you fought hard against the blush creeping up your face.

"i gotta say, the black eye really suits you. you look pretty badass." you chuckled, trying to change the subject before it got too sappy and you said something you shouldn't.

"maybe it should just be my new look," he joked, looking down at a ping from his phone. "uh oh."

"we have a case?" you asked.

"yep. and hotch wants us in the office asap which means we cont stop by either of our houses." he sighed before starting the car.

the drive was mostly silent. but a comfortable silence. Spencer thought about how in the moment, he didn't care how many punches the guy threw at him, as long as it meant you were ok, he was willing to take it. he knew he loved you far before that moment but that truly solidified it.

at the same time you were thinking of how quickly your time as a 'married couple' was over. it felt so right to call Spencer yours. so unexplainably perfect for the two of you to be together. if only your time wasn't cut short by a sucker punch.

you neared the building's parking lot. you looked over at Spencer who you could very easily tell was lost in his own world.

"whats going on in that beautiful head of yours?" you asked, causing him to stifle a smile.

"just thinking." he answered.

"what about?"

"us." he stated, pulling into his parking spot.

oh. oh.

"do tell."

he hesitated, "if i tell you, and you disagree, do you promise it wont change anything about us?"

"i promise."

"did it feel right to you? us being together?" he asked, his eyes innocent and filled to the brim with a mixture of anxiety and adoration as he looked at you.

"yes. it absolutely did. and i was so mad at the assclown for cutting our time short," you admitted, "and punching you in the eye, obviously."

"i- i'm not sure how to ask this but- do you...would you..sorry i-" he stammered.

"yes."

you cut him off, pressing your lips to his. his hand gently cupped your face, deepening the kiss and you both felt like you were on cloud nine.

"thats exactly what i was trying to say," he cracked a dopey smile, causing you to chuckle.

"i've been trying to say it for so long." you confessed, causing him to smile impossibly wider, "we gotta go hotch is waiting."

"just one more kiss?" he asked, which you gave in to, obviously. and then another. and another.

maybe it was good thing that he got a black eye that day, because when you got to the office the whole team was so focused on it they didn't even notice the hint of your lipstick left on spencers lips.

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos

[alexaplaysgames]

Can you do Felix and Mc getting into a fight

My angst brain need some

You got it bb <3 Idk if this is really that much of a fight, but I couldn't make the MC too mean to Felix. Also, I’m aware this paints baby in a bad light. I had to make them fight about something okay :’( I don’t think he’d do this in canon.

Title: A bit Bitter

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC (Last Legacy)

Words: 2564

Tags: @demon-paradise @themohawkhelmet @cactus-hoodie @aomiyeon @piningmaybeanartist @another-confused-gay @uselessbeanies @nomnomcupcakesworld @druwuuwu @frozen-daydream @kirakiratears @margitartist @crowtrinkets @fanfic-about-fictif Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed.

“Tell me the truth, Felix.”

His gray eyes dart upwards from his textbooks as I storm into the room. When he sees what I hold clutched in my hands, he swallows, the bob of his throat visible even from the doorway.

I continue in a voice that is simultaneously weak and as strong as I can manage. “Is this really how you feel?”

“W-why do you have that, love?”

I frown. His nervousness sends guilt shooting through me, but I stamp it out. I’ve bent over backwards for months in an attempt to make him comfortable, and did so gladly. But this? I can only withstand so much.

I set the notebook down on the edge of his desk with a heavy thud. Felix winces.

“The things you wrote in here, about me…” I shake my head, then look away. I can feel my eyes sting, and I bite my tongue to hold back from crying. “Felix-“

“That’s private! You don’t have the right to go snooping through my possessions.”

I sigh. Yeah, I’m nosy and read his journal, and normally I would be ashamed. I shouldn’t have done it, but… “I don’t think that’s important right now.”

“Of course it’s important!” Felix gasps, standing out of his desk chair to snatch up the journal. He meets my eyes with a fragile sort of vulnerability, then pulls the journal defensively to his chest. “I’m not privy to every thought you have. You can’t judge me for mine.”

“I would never think these things of you!” My voice raises until it edges on a shout, and I frantically rush to reign it in. “I would never.”

“That’s not-“ Felix whispers with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair.”

“No. What’s not fair is this.” I reach forward and pull the leather journal from his hands, flipping forward a few weathered pages until I find what I’m looking for.

“‘Not nearly comparable to Rime’s beauty, nor do they possess his talent with magic. They’re candlelight to his radiant sun. I’ve quelled whatever feeling has stirred in my chest and decided that I won’t settle for them. Not while my love is still hurting. And I do miss him so.”

Felix is biting at his lip as I lower the book once more, his eyes watery, wide circles. “That’s old,” he chokes out. “I swear. I don’t feel that way. I love you.”

He looks like he wants to touch me, so I step away. I shake my head. “But you did feel that way.”

“I- why does it matter? That’s private. How- how much else have you read to convince yourself my feelings for you are disingenuous? You were never meant to see any of it.” He’s wrapped arms around his thin frame, now, squeezing his eyes shut as if he wishes this all would simply go away.

“I’ve read enough.”

Felix’s eyes go wide, then dart to the journal in my hand. “Why?” I ask. “Worried there’s something worse left for me to uncover?”

“N-no.” He runs his hand over his face. “Why couldn’t you stay out of my things? That was personal! It was none of your business!” Felix hisses the last words, as close to angry as I’ve ever seen him with me. His eyes are filled with tears, but his expression if one of a rage I’ve never been in the receiving end of.

“Fuck you,” I spit out, watching him hiccup as if the words were a physical blow. “You’re a liar, Felix.” Then I simply can’t help myself but to add, “Maybe you do deserve to be alone.”

I know as soon as I say it that I’ve gone too far, and the look on his face- fuck. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the broken, hurt expression that flashes across his features out of my head. Yes, the words he’d written in that journal had stung, but I don’t feel any satisfaction from hurting him just as badly. If anything, it makes me feel worse.

All I feel is lost. My psyche weighs heavy with guilt, as well as hatred for myself for letting my patience slip. Before it can all come crumbling down on me, I turn on my heel and rush out the door, slamming it behind me with an echo that rings much to hollow to make me feel any better.

✦✧✦✧

I had frantically stuffed my few belongings into a bag and rushed to the nearest inn, flopping onto a rickety bed and crying myself to exhaustion. That had been two days ago, now, and I haven’t spoken to Felix since.

On the bright side, sending drunk texts is much more difficult to do when one doesn’t possess a cellphone.

Each night my dreams are filled with memories of his face, his smile. I can feel him in my arms, see the distinct colour of his blush each time I call him “baby” or “my sweet”. I wonder if I was over-dramatic in my reaction, but then remember the words in that journal. To think, the passage I had read aloud had only been one of many.

No. I was right to be upset.

I keep wondering if maybe the things he wrote in there were true. Yet, it’s so confusing- Felix has always had the upmost respect for me. And he’s not exactly great at hiding his emotions.

I’ve met with Anisa and Sage, both of whom seemed relatively stunned at the news. Anisa had offered exercise as a way to take my mind off it, and Sage had offered… another form of physical activity altogether, which didn’t really surprise me.

“A fight? Really? You two have always seemed like such a sappy married couple…”

I sigh. “Thanks, Sage. Really. It wasn’t even a fight, to be honest.”

“Married couples do fight, Sage.” Anisa pats my hand. “Felix is just dramatic. It will be fine! Whatever he did, I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He just gets a little… jumbled up sometimes. But his intentions are pure. At least, I believe so. You can never tell with Felix.” She smiles. “Give him some time to mope and he’ll apologize.”

“If it helps,” Sage interjects, “he fought all the time with deer boy, and they were apparently a thing. I’m sure he’s used to it.”

I refrain from telling Sage that his oh-so-helpful comment is far from helpful; in fact, it highlights exactly what I’m worried about.

Tonight, thunder strikes outside in heavy, booming claps. The room I’ve rented is lowly lit by a single candle, but the flashes of lightning outside the window often light up the entire space. Rain pelts the roof and the wind howls mournfully, as if in empathy of my crushed spirit.

I’m just in the middle of pretending I’m in a sad music video when I hear an unsteady knock at the door. At first, I think it might be a tree branch outside, being as it’s so soft, but then I hear the sound again.

I fling the wool blankets over my head with a huff and shuffle towards the door, then unceremoniously fling it open.

I should have expected it would be my necromancer boyfriend looking like a drenched cat.

Felix is sopping wet, his hair plastered to his forehead and clothes so soaked I can see his tanned skin underneath. As soon as the door opens, his eyes go wide, and he immediately looks as if he’s attempting to say something, but he can’t seem to spit it out. His teeth are chattering so forcefully he can’t speak, and the wind has whipped the wet strands of hair into his mouth.

He is so stupid. I immediately can’t help but think that I love him. I am definitely morosexual.

I blink dazedly at him for a moment, before grabbing his elbows and hastily pulling him inside.

“I’m s-sorry,” he sobs as I grab a blanket off the bed and hastily wrap it around his shoulders. I can’t tell if he’s shaking from crying or the cold, can’t tell if the wetness on his face is from his tears or the rain. “I’m so sorry.”

“Felix, it’s fine. Come here, you’re going to get hypothermia.”

I grab a towel from the bathroom and begin using it to dry his hair. He shakes his head as he pushes it away, sending droplets of water flying. “No! Listen, please, I am sorry, I am. I wish to explain myself. You deserve that much, at least.”

I sigh, then stand back and nod. I sit down on the edge of the bed. The mattress groans, as do I. “Fine.”

Felix pauses as if he didn’t expect that answer.

Then he picks at the frayed strings of the blanket around him. He shivers as he tugs it tighter around his shoulders. He licks his lips. “I wasn’t in a good place when we met.”

I nod. It was obvious then, and it’s even more so now. “I know.”

“It wasn’t healthy. I know that it wasn’t, but-” he cuts off as the thunder outside rumbles, lightning illuminating the haunted look in his eyes. “I loved Rime. More than that, I obsessed over him.”

That much I had guessed, but the confirmation does still twist my stomach.

“I was still in love with him when we met. Desperately so. I clung to the very idea of him for years. Rime adored how I idolized him, he encouraged it-“ he looks out the window as if lost in thought, then sighs. “It wasn’t you. I would’ve compared anyone to him. I did.”

Felix sniffs, then delicately kneels at my feet. “I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t truly think those things, my dear. I just felt so guilty, every time I felt anything for you. I had made myself think that he was perfect, that I could enforce my love for him through some strange sort of self-discipline.” He cringes, as if he knows how awful that sounds. “It seemed reasonable. I owed him my life.”

Apparently having said what he needed, Felix goes quiet. His eyes are red-rimmed, dark circles underneath, as if he’s been crying instead of sleeping ever since I left him.

“You are so incredibly lovely,” he whispers, choking. “I could see it even then. I was scared of what it would do to me to admit it.”

I swallow. I’m honestly not sure whether to believe him, but the look in his eyes is so earnest. Felix is many things, but he’s not one to hide his feelings, nor is he a good actor. I know deep down that he’s not faking his love for me, despite how my heart convinced me otherwise.

“If- If you’re still angry with me, I understand,” Felix stammers, though the tears in his eyes make it seem like that isn’t true. “M-maybe I should leave-“

The rain pounds harder against the windows. The wind whistles through the surrounding cracks. I grab his wrist.

“Come here, my sweet.”

Felix’s eyes widen at my use of my pet name for him, a timid look of disbelief in his eyes as he takes my hand and allows me to pull him onto the bed. I lie down on my back and guide to lay against my chest.

“I forgive you.” I almost can’t believe the words myself, but I know that it’s the only option I could ever consider. I love him. It’s a simple as it is complex.

“You needn’t-“

“I do. It wasn’t right of you to say those things, but it was also unfair of me to get so angry with you over something you wrote a long time ago. I know your old relationship really took a toll on you. Besides, I said some awful things to you too, Felix,” I continue, reaching up to brush his bangs back from his forehead. He trembles, leaning slightly into my touch. “You don’t deserve to be alone. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me, and I shouldn’t have. Okay?” I wait until he finally nods to continue. “And I’m sorry for going through your things. I betrayed your trust, and you were right to be upset.”

Felix goes a little slack-jawed before he finally breathes out, “O-of course I forgive you.”

“I’m glad, because I don’t think I could live without you.”

He stares at me for a moment longer before he lurches forward and kisses me, desperate and wanting, full to the brim with both apology and forgiveness. It tastes if the salt of his tears and the cold rainwater that runs over his cheeks. He’s shaking the whole time, and I tug him tighter to my chest. I can feel his heart racing through the fabric of our clothes.

“I love you, sweet.”

“I love you too,” Felix hiccups, “so much.”

We spend a bit longer like that, tangled up in the bedsheets with Felix soaking through both our clothes. Eventually, I pull back.

“Did you really wait until it was storming to show up and apologize?”

A sheepish laugh as he flushes. “I had t-thought it would be romantic. Like in my novels. I didn’t realize it was pouring quite so hard.”

His cheeks are a flaming red and he looks away like he expects me to be upset. I sigh to hide my fond smile. All I can do is kiss him again.

“I’ve brought you something,” Felix murmurs, his lips so close to mine that they brush, his eyelashes wet against my cheeks. He reaches back and takes the leather notebook, the stupid source of all our fighting, out of his coat pocket. It’s surprisingly dry.

I can’t help but want to smack that stupid book out of his hand. “Felix, why would you do that?”

He rolls his eyes, then gets up and stands off to the side of the bed. The room lights up green as his entire hand, the journal with it, are suddenly engulfed in flames, until nothing but ashes sift through his fingertips, drifting down to settle against the wooden floor.

“You’re my future.”

He’s so dramatic. I love him to pieces.

I grab his waist and all but tackle him back onto the bed, delighting in his surprised squeak.

“Stop!” Felix yelps as he falls back against the mattress, only to be assaulted by my cuddles, “I’m positively soaked; I’ll drench the sheets.”

I can’t really say that I care. We have a lot of making up to do; I’m not spending a second without him by my side for the rest of the night. Felix grumbles a final complaint and then sighs. He wraps his arms around me and presses his cheek into my chest, and I can’t help but think he feels the same.

“I didn’t enjoy that,” he mumbles, turning his face into me to hide his expression. “Being apart from you, it- hurt. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby.” I’m just realizing how much. His scent and the feel of his hair against my skin, his voice. He’s invaded my senses once more, and it feels like coming back to life.

He turns to look up at me. His cheeks are rosy and his hair mussed, droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes and temples. God, he’s so adorable- I don’t know how I could ever stand to be angry with him. “I don’t want to be at odds with you anymore. I love you too much.”

I boop his perfect nose. “Deal.”

[leviiattacks]

your angst is really good and i wanted to may i request guard levi and princess reader, they have an affair because they end up falling in love but one day levi can’t protect her because he takes his eyes off her and idk the plot i just felt like crying today and i need a reason so just something angsty😭

note :: i saw this and really wanted to write something but i’m not really sure if i did well it’s shorter than what i normally write but hopefully i did some justice to your request. requests are open so feel free to drop by again and request if you want to !!

++ might make this into an actual fic perhaps,,, minus the dying and what not but guard levi is a very interesting concept to me hmm

warnings :: blood, death, infidelity

No one knows or is able to understand why or how Levi is having such a hard time coping with your death. You are the princess of the nation and he, your guard. Nothing more, nothing less.

At least that’s what everyone else in the Kingdom thinks.

Every night he greets your book shelf like a mad man. Well, it’s all he has to remember you by, why would he ever let it go with ease?

"What you reading? Another sappy romance novel?" He's poked his head from a corner and you grin up at him telling him that you are indeed indulging in another piece of romantic fiction.

For an unknown reason dread fills his gut when he meets your smile, that's never happened before.

It's a bad omen, a sign that he's fallen but is in denial, refutation, rejection, contradiction whatever it is he can't find an appropriate word for it. All he knows is he'll regret this later. He doesn't know why but the sinking feeling in his stomach is an indication that this forbidden romance the two of you share in secrecy will go South.

It’s silent apart from your humming.

"Levi... can you promise me you'll live a long happy life?" The out of place question is worrying. Another premonition and he opens his mouth to voice his concern. However your gaze lingers on his face telling him to not cause a dispute, not right now.

"If you promise me the same, then yes My Lady."

Looking away you're awake but distant. "We are in privacy. You may use my name Levi."

"And, I don't know if I can live a long and happy life. I can try." The slow confession only makes his heart race uncomfortably.

He sighs sitting beside you, your shoulders rub against his. "Then I retract my previous statement. I cannot possibly live a happy life when the princess is discontent."

You flail your arms around, hands are flapping in front of your chest in an attempt to convince him to not think so foolishly.

He narrows his eyes. Expression unreadable, a mix of frustration, maybe even premature grief. It's enough to coax an agreement out of you.

"Very well, I promise to live happy."

Fists clenching your bed sheets he damns himself to Hell for ignoring his instincts. For putting your life in jeopardy all for his own temporary satisfaction.

His forehead hits the plush duvet and he inhales the linen hoping that your smell lingers, hoping that the vanilla is still present. Hoping there’s something left to prove he hasn’t made you up. He fears he’ll forget your scent, your voice, your touch. He fears he’ll forget it all.

If he had followed orders, never let himself grow emotionally involved perhaps you would still be here. Perhaps, if he didn't lead you astray and convince you to betray royalty by pursuing what the two of you shared, maybe just maybe you would still be alive and well.

He'll end up in damnation for all the pain and suffering he's caused you, He curses himself every day for having the nerve to fall in love with a member of Royalty.

No matter how well respected or how strong he was in the military he never had the power to protect you from the political turmoil your family was submerged in. He wasn't of Royal blood, there was nothing he could do to protect you.

One of you would die first, and die you did.

He assumes he was made to suffer through that bleak, unwelcoming night for a reason. That's why he had to see the enemy take you away from him, he needed to be given a reality check.

Royalty and commoners are worlds apart for a reason.

You scream at the world as you call for him, shrieking as the blade erupts from your stomach. It’s throbbing and strumming in vengeance. The contents of your belly become one with the floor but the pungent stench isn't enough to pry Levi away from you. The air is quickly fogging up with the scent of your blood and insides. You whimper, you cry, you sob staring at the heavens.

"You are not dying on me, You can't be dying on me, I won't let you die on me. We haven't said goodbye properly, you can't just-"

"Yes I can Levi. I am not immortal." There you are laughing as you wilt in his arms, you disregard the emptiness you feel, you need to comfort him. Withering away isn't an option for now.

Frantically attempting to staunch the wound to no avail Levi is distraught when he feels you slipping away from him. "You promised to live a long happy life." He murmurs in betrayal, his eyes are glazed over in complete shock.

Panting out of exhaustion and pressing down firmer he's pleading you to not let go of him just yet.

You watch him unravel above you, eyes squeezed shut, he’s lurching forward burying the sounds that want to escape from his chest so badly.

Your shaking hands travel to his cheeks cupping them gently and you draw hesitant circles into his cold skin.

Levi’s tears fall and you sense the dampness coat your fingertips.

"If you were paying attention you would know I promised to live happy Levi, not live long."

You broke the promise, an early death is not dying happy.

He's stunned, he should’ve known you’d pull something like that.

"You made me the happiest Levi."

He thinks that’s a lie.

You break under the pressure and finally admit how you feel.

"I'm scared, what if we never-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, we will do what we've planned. I promise." He growls assertive in his point of view.

But, you know it's too late. Placing his unsteady hand above your heart you let your other hand fall from his face. The energy is being drained out of you quicker than expected.

"I dreamt about you last night, dreamt we could be happy.” You hack and gasp desperately for breath but much to Levi’s horrified gaze the blood only trickles down your chin. “I hope we reunite whether that be in the afterlife if that place is real or in another life entirely. We will become lovers but we can't indulge in that luxury right now."

"No, no, no. Shut up, stop talking you're wasting your breath you need to-"

"I love you Levi, please live happily for me."

Then you are limp.

His eyes shoot open as the scene draws to an end. Yet another nightmare has plagued him, one where he is reminded of your passing.

The title of murderer is self appointed, he holds himself responsible for taking his eyes off you. It gave your assassin the perfect window of opportunity to strike, it had been enough to take you out like a faltering light.

Sometimes as he drinks into the night trying to forget it all. He wonders if everything would be different if he had kept his love for you locked away.

Would you still be alive and married to that other man whilst he would have to watch on in pain?

But nothing would be more painful than now, he’d rather watch that instead of accept that you are long gone.

Would you still be alive and forced to bed your horrible fiancé?

Would you carry that man’s children?

He hates himself for confessing and telling you how he felt. He despises that you had to suffer for his sin.

But, that’s the issue with love. It had made the danger in Levi look like safety to you and it had made the danger in you look like peace to Levi.

There are reasons why a guard and his princess should never mingle.

After all, they are worlds apart for a reason.

[oreomonsterhunter]

Becoming BFFs — Jaehyun

A/N: I have too many feels so the whole “BFF jaehyun” thing got too long.....so this is just the beginning I suppose (stay tuned for more because besties are my favorite 🥰

You and Jae didn’t become friends overnight

It took a while for him to start opening up to you, and vice versa

Thats probably why you got along so well—you both put a lot of value in trust and honesty in relationships

Getting to know him was like waiting for ice to melt, though. He was just so quiet, and you were too. I mean what the heck were you supposed to say to model freaking jaehyun??!!?

Fortunately you didn’t suffer in silence in the beginning, since you were initially introduced by Johnny (bless him) and he had more than enough personality to break the ice between the two of you

Before long you were making jokes at each other’s expense

“Your hobby is literally bowling, you’re such a grandpa”

“At least it’s a sport, unlike knitting”

“Yah, you punk!”

And not too long after that, you were hanging out, just the two of you

That’s when you discovered how quiet and thoughtful he could be

One of your first friend dates was just walking along the river, not talking much, just being together in the quiet

You ended up sitting and watching people biking on the path, and the words just started pouring out of you

Jaehyun was a really good listener

Turns out, he’d noticed you hadn’t been yourself lately, and asked you to spend some time with him to help clear your head

This boy I swear *aggressively throws hearts*

You spent hours together that day, but it felt like minutes

Jaehyun loved sharing little bits and pieces of himself, but he did it so deliberately. One piece at a time, as if calculating his losses if you left and didn’t come back one day as if you could, you were in too deep

He took you bowling with him because he wanted to share his hobby, and you had to admit he was pretty good (but you still had to tease him)

You’d come over to the dorms and hang out in his room just listening to music for ages, because at the end, jaehyun would play you bits of songs he was trying to write, and he wanted you to hear it first

Lazy afternoons spent exploring—you’d drop by hole in the wall music stores hunting for the next LP to add to his collection, and reward yourselves with coffees at the nearest cafe

You could literally ask jaehyun to do anything with you and he’d say yes in a heartbeat

He tells you he cares by spending quality time with you. That and doing all kinds of cute little things that make you want to hit him for being too perfect

“Jeffrey stop trying to be perfect”

“Who said I was trying? Ow”

Aksldlemsjsaisjjs you love hate him he’s so annoying

Until he does the cute shit like getting you flowers “idk aren’t they your favorite or something” “Jeffrey go get a girlfriend”

Or ordering delivery to your apartment with a note like “you’re not answering my texts so I know you’re trying to kill yourself w work. Eat first then come yell at me :)”

Or cuter still “if you stop procrastinating I’ll get Johnny to flash his abs for you” lmaooo

Tbh you’re no better than him—you’d say yes to doing anything so long as he was there too

That sounds sappy but includes things like doing the dishes when you go over and the sink is completely freaking full because the nct boys are such boys and therefore disgusting sometimes, and so you resolve to tackle it together (aka end up throwing bubbles at each other in the middle)

Or making an absolute Fool of yourself while playing Just Dance with an actual professional dancer

“wtf jaehyun how did you make that move look cool”

“what, like it’s hard?”

Ok but jokes aside, jaehyun is a ride or die bff

Yeah, the two of you are champs at roasting each other, but he’s also the first person you’d call if you really needed help. You know he’d always come, no matter what you needed

He might poke fun at you, and some of it is joking and games, but a little part of it is testing your friendship. That wide eyed look of his isn’t naïveté, it’s trust. But a tiny part of him is always wary of misplacing it

So as long as you keep throwing his jokes back at him, he knows you’re all good. And you get that, you get the fear of losing a friend because you never really had them. And you’d do anything to make that little part of him shut up, but you love him to bits, and you wouldn’t change one thing about him

It’s that little worry of his that lets you know you can trust him, too, after all

The two of you were always looking for a genuine friend, someone you could lean on without any doubts. And you’ll never stop being grateful that you finally found him

Masterlist

[livexdolan]

The Cage - Part One

A/n: so hi! This is a UFC based fic about Grayson Dolan. This is an AU with an OC. There is no face claim as of now but they might change idk. I’m not going to ramble lol I’m just very very nervous. Anywho please enjoy and let me know what you think! There will be many parts to this series by the way lol so this part is kind of slow but just wait aha

Word Count: 5924

Warnings: fluff, mentions of death, explicit language, and triggering topics (maybe?) mentioned

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be famous- never telling anyone but I’ve always wanted to know- wanted to get in the head of someone famous and see what they go through- but I could’ve never guessed this was how I was going to find out.

It all started when I was 22, fresh out of college, with a crappy assistant job at a publishing company in Los Angeles, California. Having been stuck at this job for almost three years and never even having my articles read, I was starting to lose hope that I would never be more than an assistant. Until one day…”

“Lily! Get in here! And bring me a coffee!” I scurry to Mr. Lane’s office, clutching the coffee I had just gone and grabbed for him, stopping by my desk to grab my notebook and pen.

I opened his glass door and put his coffee down on his desk, pushing up my glasses as I opened my notebook and clicked my pen, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say what he needed me to do. He looks at me, his eyes bright at first but quickly losing their color and he sighs as though he’s already exasperated, “What is this?” He holds up a copy of a story I had put on his desk.

Oh jeez, another rejection. I push my glasses up again and start to stutter out an explanation in a quiet voice, “Well, I-I heard you talking to some of the reporters about need-needing a new story for next week's issue and well, I-I already had an idea so I thought I’d-” He cuts me off with a quick raise of his hand and a stoic look on his face, giving nothing away.

“Look,” he sighs and rubs his face with both hands before continuing, “It’s not a bad story, but it’s a half-baked idea. That’s your problem. That’s why you haven’t gotten a byline yet- you can never deliver a full idea- let alone a full article, do you understand?”

I look down, refusing to let him see my cheeks burn red and my eyes water. This is what he says every time I give him an idea. “Do you want to be a journalist?” He questions.

I make eye contact with him quickly lifting my head and squaring my shoulders to try and seem more confident, “More than anything, sir.”

“Well then, I have a proposition for you.” He gets up from his chair, his tall, lean body going to perch on the corner of his desk as he looks up at me his blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, “I’ll give you a lead, and if you can follow through and get me a full 12000-word article by Monday, you can keep your job and I might throw you a lead here and there. But if you fail to deliver…” He pauses momentarily, thinking over his next words carefully, “you lose your job.”

I gasp and try to reason with myself for a second, making a mental pro-con list before replying quietly, “What’s the article on?”

He shakes his head and smirks lightly, filling my stomach with more unease, “No, you have to agree to the proposition. Then, I will tell you the story.”

Can I do this? Can I risk everything? I mean, that’s what my life’s been so far, a lot of risks and sacrifices. But is this a sacrifice I’m willing to make?

What would mom do? I sigh, “O-ok. Okay, I accept. Now, what’s the story?”

He claps his hands together excitedly and looks up at me with a boyish grin, he moves swiftly behind his desk and grabs an envelope, handing it to my shaky hands, “Grayson Dolan, he fights tonight here at the arena, go with a press pass, get an interview with him and ask him a couple of questions. Oh, and make sure we get a quote.”

I stare at him open-mouthed, frozen to my spot, “What? The Grayson Dolan?! You and I are both very aware that he refuses to do interviews. This isn’t even possible.” I say without trying to raise my voice too much.

Jace just leans back in his desk chair, lacing his fingers together and putting them behind his head, “Not my problem- it’s yours now. If I don’t have that story in my hand Monday morning, just pack your things up and leave, got it?” He smirks up at me.

I just silently walk out of his office and back to my desk, sitting down and putting my head against the cool wood surface. I don’t know if I want to cry or punch myself in the face.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“And then he told me that if I accept- but fail to give him a story- I lose my job!”

“Wow! I never liked that guy, you know. He gives off such- such a douchebag vibe.”

I can’t help but chuckle at my dad’s voice dropping a little, he hasn’t been big on cursing since mom passed. At first, it was weird because both my parents cussed when I was growing up. But after mom passed, dad decided that, ‘there’s enough hate in the world’ and that he’s not going to add to it with foul language.’

“I know Dad, but what am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t accept it! You should never risk your whole career on whether or not some guy is feeling up to an interview!”

“Ok, one-” I start, “it is not just some guy! This is Grayson Dolan! And two,” I lower my voice and chew my lip, a bad habit I picked up in middle school, “I already agreed.”

“Of course you did!” he sounds exasperated and I pull my phone away from my ear a little out of reflex, “You are just like your mother, you know that?” he sighs and the line goes quiet.

“Daddy?” I whisper into the phone. He stays silent. It’s my turn to sigh and fall back onto my couch. I mutter into the phone, “He wouldn’t tell me the story until I accepted. I have to go get ready, I’ll talk to you after the match. I’ll be sitting ringside so look for me, ok?”

“Ok, I will. I’m still not happy about this.”

“I know Dad, you’re not happy with two-thirds of the things I do.”

That gets a reluctant chuckle out of him, “I guess you’re right. Good luck, by the way. If anyone can get an interview out of Dolan- it’d be you. And if you can’t, your childhood bedroom would love to have you back.”

“Ha-ha. Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too baby, I’ll see you soon?”

“Dad,” my stomach drops at his hopeful voice and I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth, “Maybe, bye.”

I hang up the phone before he can say anything and I sink into the couch.

I wake with a start, my neck sore from the back of the couch. Oh no. I grab my phone in a haste, I turn it on and my whole body sags in relief when the time shows up; 6:45.

I have about an hour and a half to get ready, that’s enough time!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Wrong. Very wrong. I feel a wave of heat wash over me, igniting my anxiety as I look at the time on my phone; 7:45.

I quickly put on my normal, light makeup consisting of moisturizer, skin tint, blush on my cheeks and nose, giving me an almost sunburnt look. I shape my eyebrows a little, fix my glasses, and put on my chapstick. I quickly brush out my short, wavy hair and clip back the front parts. I shake my head slightly to get my bangs in place and do one last check in the mirror before heading to my closet.

Too pink. Too casual. Too tight. Too- ugh where did I even get that from? I start moving the hangers faster, getting frustrated with my lack of options. I move past a pastel purple dress- wait. I go back to the dress and grab it off the rod, holding it up in the light.

When did I buy this? My eyebrows furrow as I look at the beautiful and delicate dress that I must’ve forgotten about. I pull it off the hanger and slowly put it on, saying a silent prayer that it fits.

I smooth the soft material out and look in the mirror. I’m pleasantly surprised by how the dress fits. It’s silk with spaghetti straps and is a lilac color with little flowers all over it.

I don’t have time to overthink my outfit now. I throw on my roommate’s white Timberlands, grab my black purse, making sure my ID, wallet, and phone are all tucked safely inside. I grab my press pass and put the lanyard around my head carefully.

Taking a deep breath, I walk out to the living room where my roommate is sitting waiting for me to come out.

I clear my throat and try not to look too awkward. Ryan looks up from her MacBook and gasps, tossing her laptop onto the couch next to her, she moves over to me, her long legs gracefully walking around the coffee table.

She investigates every part of my outfit, making me feel small and self-conscious. Before I can stop myself, I start rambling in a quiet tone, “Is-is this too much? Do you th-think it looks okay?”

She grasps my shoulders and a wide smile makes its way onto her face, “Of course, you look amazing!” I smile at her and she winks at me, “When that pretentious ass sees you- he might want to do more than just let you interview him.”

I snort and roll my eyes and she laughs, “Yeah right,” I mumble.

She walks over to our coat rack and pulls off a small black cardigan, “Here, I know it gets cold in there,” I smile gratefully and take it from her, folding it over the crook of my arm and taking a deep breath.

I start to walk towards the door and she calls my name, I look back at her as I open the door, “You look hot Lil- knock ‘em dead,” I smile at her and nod, walking out before I get sappy.

I pull into the busy parking lot of the arena and gulp down my bubbling anxiety. I find a parking spot, towards the back of the lot seeing as I don’t get bothered by having to walk a little. I go up to the line, seeing a sign that says, ‘PRESS ENTRANCE HERE’ I smile at the worker looking at me and pointing to the Press sign and then at my pass hanging around my neck, he nods.

I go towards the other entrance and show a different security guard my pass and he opens a door for me, I smile up at him, “Thank you-” I glance at the small name tag, “Don.” He blushes slightly and coughs.

I blush too and walk through the door quickly. I realize that I’m ‘backstage’ and can hear the fans cheering for one of the main card fights happening. I check my small watch and see that it’s going to be another hour or so before Grayson Dolan fights.

I take another deep breath and start walking forward, trying not to look like a lost puppy and failing when a man wearing a UFC crew shirt comes over to me with furrowed brows, “Who’re you looking for?”

I look at him, his deep voice vibrating against the walls, “Grayson Dolan,” I answer back.

He gives me a once-over and I try not to make a face when he meets my eyes and smirks, “Oh, he’ll like you.” I furrow my brows but decide not to question it as he points down a long hallway, “Four doors down, take a right, then the last door on the left is him- the one that’ll say, Grayson Dolan.” I thanked him even though he was a bit rude, and made my way down.

Once I turn down the hallway I see someone sitting outside one of the rooms on a single chair. I make my way closer and my heart drops into my stomach when I see it’s a girl sitting outside Grayson Dolan’s room, “Hello? Are-Are you okay?”

The girl looks up at me from her phone and gives me a once-over, except it’s different from the way the worker did- she looks annoyed with me. She stands up, her high heels making her about an inch or two taller than me, “Who are you?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage up.

I cough to clear my throat a little, taken back by her abrasive tone, “I’m a reporter- Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and if you’re here for Grayson Dolan- he won’t talk to you.”

“I- I’m sorry, why do you say that?” The woman steps closer to me and I try not to gag at the smell of her cheap, overused perfume. I step back from her and she straightens up slightly, glowering at me.

“Just run along, maybe you’ll understand when you’re grown,” She says, looking back at her phone, when she glances up and sees I’m not leaving she rolls her eyes, “Grayson Dolan doesn’t talk to reporters. I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t actually a reporter anyway, you’re probably just here to fuck him, huh? Get in line,” She laughs.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire. I don’t understand why she’s being so rude and malicious towards me but I have to get this interview. I can’t let people like her bring me down anymore. When she gives me a fake smile and sits back down, I decide to be the bigger person. Not snapping back at her and ignoring her. Because she doesn’t know me and she doesn’t know what I’ve been through.

The door opens before I can say anything anyways and we both look over, startled. A man looks over at us, then turn and glances back inside the room before he nods, looking at me, and asking what my name is, “Lily Taylor, here with Ace Publis-” I try to tell him but he cuts me off opening the door wider and my eyes widen as he tells me to come in. I try to keep from laughing when the girl asks if she can come in but he just shakes his head at her, I turn around quickly before he shuts the door, “If I were you- I wouldn’t lie to others and say you’re around his age, it’s very obvious that you’re old enough to be his mom,” And the door shuts on her shocked face.

I realize my heart is pounding in my ears and that is probably the meanest thing I’ve ever done, “I should probably apologize,” I whisper to myself and jump slightly when I hear a deep chuckle.

“What can I help you with, Ms. Taylor?” My shoulders tense at the familiar voice and I turn around slowly, facing a couch with a very amused Grayson Dolan sitting on it.

“I- I’m so sorry for being so rude to her. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Why do you think I’d care about her? She’s been sitting out there for two hours,” He laughs and I think he caught the raise of my eyebrow but ignores it, “I asked you once, Ms. Taylor, I don’t like repeating myself.” He reminds me of his question.

I square my shoulders, “I’m here with Ace Publishing & Co., I would love if you could answer some questions for me,” I smile at him, trying to come off as friendly.

His amused expression drops and he scoffs, “You’re one of them? God- here I was hoping you were a die-hard fan. Was going to make you feel very special,” He smirks at me and I scrunch my nose out of habit at his gross words. I quickly stop, realizing I need this, “Frank- show Ms. Taylor out please,” He sighs, and my eyes widen and I stick my hands out and Frank stops moving for a second.

“Wait! Wait! Please I-” Frank huffs at my refusal to move and grabs my arm as I move closer to Grayson, “Please. I wouldn’t be this adamant if I didn’t need this. Please. My career is counting on this moment. Please, I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to, please,” I put my hands in a pleading gesture, hoping he’d take pity.

He holds his hand up to Frank and he lets go of my arm, I sigh and straighten up a little, hoping to gain back some of the dignity I seemed to have lost, “What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side curiously and I blush, glancing at the ground.

“My boss he uh- he told me that if I don’t get at least a quote from you I can kiss my job goodbye and well, it’s not the best job but I’ve worked my ass off to get where I’m at and he’s being unfair and I understand that this isn’t your problem and I understand why you don’t like to talk to interviewers-”

He cuts me off, “You know why I don’t talk to interviewers?” I look up at him and nod meekly, “Why? Explain it to me,” he crosses his arms and I think he might be upset with me.

I look back down at the ground and take a breath, glancing back up at him through my lashes, “You don’t do interviews because doing an interview is personal and revealing. You’re scar- scared to let the world see who the Grayson Dolan is because you don’t think they’ll like you as much.”

He cocks his eyebrow and uncrosses his arm, sighing, looking away from me to the wall, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he contemplates for a minute, “You got like 20 minutes to ask me whatever you want, and no stupid questions that all the interviewers ask, okay?” I nod and move to sit in the chair next to the couch.

“Do you mind if I record this? I’d like to keep this paper-free, meaning I don’t have a notebook out and try to write everything down. We’re just going to have a conversation and let it flow. I can stop recording at any time if you say something you’d like erased. I’m not here to expose you, just here to get to know you. As a person. Not as a fighter. I’m not going to ask you anything about how being a fighter’s been or what your inspiration is. I’m going to ask you about you. As a whole. Because the UFC is not your personality,” I explain to him, pulling my phone out and pulling up my voice memos app and looking back up to him, waiting for an answer.

He stares at me until finally, I say his name quietly, hoping he’s okay, he blinks and flushes, shifting, “Sorry, y-yeah, that’s okay. I just- I didn’t expect you to be like- acting like a human.”

I laugh and start recording, “Maybe that means I’m a bad journalist? I don’t know- I feel like it’s easier to connect and get the questions in without papers and cameras and all that other stuff.”

(this part is going to be a dialogue as though we are just listening to the recording)

“That makes sense, and no I can tell you’re going to be great, you treat me like I’m just- a guy, which doesn’t happen often.”

“I bet, you don’t deserve that though. Okay, I’m going to start us off with some icebreakers- so tell me what your childhood dream job was, your favorite ice cream flavor, and 3 things you do on the weekends.”

“Oh, jeez, what is this- first day of 6th grade? Fine- Uh, I always wanted to be a pro wrestler, that was my dream job as a kid. My favorite- vegan- ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip. And, uhm, three things I do on the weekends...okay okay I got it; eat, sleep, workout. Now you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Miss Reporter. If you want this to flow you gotta participate as well.”

“Okay, fine. Uh- as a kid I always wanted to be a veterinarian, and then when I was like 10 I realized I wanted to be a writer. My favorite ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip as well. And on the weekends...I’d probably say; read, watch fights with my dad, and drink tea with my best friend at a cafe.”

“Every single weekend?”

“Yeah, my dad lives on the other side of the country so we do a FaceTime call and watch UFC together. My roommate has a job that takes up a lot of her time during the week so we go to this small cafe by our house every weekend.”

“Wow.”

(this is where the rest of the interview would be but, for later in the timeline, we aren’t going to cover every question she asks him :))

“Okay, now tell me about your family. Where you grew up, were your parents married, did you have a dog, and how do you think this all helped make you the man you are today?”

“I grew up in New Jersey; my dad left when I was 10. I’m allergic to dogs and cats, so I have a parrot named Gizmo. My mom never remarried and my sister lives with her. My brother and I moved to LA when we were 18, with no money, no job, just hope. We went to a gym and asked them if they’d train us. The next thing I knew, my brother was getting a job working at the gym and becoming one of my trainers. I learned how to fight and used my wrestling experience and worked my way into the UFC.”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you told me how you got started in the UFC. I don’t want to know about that- everyone knows that story already. I want to know how you think the things you went through as a child have shaped you as a person.”

“I- I guess- I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t think much of who I’ve become so that question is hard to answer.”

“Why do you say that? You are one of the most accomplished men in America.”

“To others, but this- I wasn’t supposed to be a fighter. Everyone sees me as accomplished but I just feel like this was an accident. There was no great event in my life that caused me to become an MMA fighter- it just happened.”

“You don’t believe in fate, Mr. Dolan?”

“No, I don’t. Do you, Ms. Taylor?”

“Yes, I believe that we all have a path we are meant to follow and that everything happens for a reason.”

“Why?”

“Because- I don’t know- it’s nicer than the alternative to me, I guess. I don’t want to live in a world where nothing has a reason behind it. We’ll move on to the next question. You don’t disclose personal information; relationships, family, children, etcetera.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Why is that? Are you afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“The same reason I said earlier as to why you don’t like interviews; you are scared people will see the real Grayson Dolan and not like you as much or think you’re different.”

“Are you like- a profiler or something? Why do you think that?”

“I’m not a profiler- I’m a journalist. It’s my job to look for clues, pick up on the small things about someone no one else would notice.”

“Ok, I’ll accept that. Is it my turn to ask you questions?”

“No that’s not how this works.”

“You said you wanted this to be like a normal conversation, did you not?”

“Yes, I did say that, but-”

“Okay, well, I don’t know about you but normally when I’m getting to know someone- I get to ask questions just like they do.”

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know...if you’ll go out with me?”

“What? Like on a- like on a date?”

“Yes, a date, Ms. Taylor.”

“Uh- I don’t know, maybe, I-”

“30 minutes to the fight, Dolan! Gotta get you warmed-up!”

(the story is back to normal now)

“So?” He questions as he stands up and I try to gather all my stuff. Trying to push down the butterflies while I stop the recording. I just continue to get more flustered, especially when he puts his hand out for me and I shyly take it, he pulls me to my feet and I stare at him through my lashes.

“I- sure. On one condition,” I smile slyly up at him and he raises an eyebrow at me, I ignore the unfamiliar feeling between my thighs at the look on his face and continue quickly, “You have to win this fight. I’ll be in the front row watching. If you win- I’ll go out with you.”

He smiles and then chuckles, “I thought you were going to make it hard? I could win this fight in my sleep baby, I’ll let you know the time after the fight, just stick around, yeah?”

I snort and roll my eyes, ignoring the pull on my heart when he calls me baby, “I’ll be there,” He smiles at me again and I jump a little in surprise when I feel his warm, large hand on the small of my back, he opens the door for me and leads me into the hallway.

I try not to laugh at the face of the Instagram model when she sees Grayson’s hand on me, “I’ll be looking for you in the front row, just so you know.” He teases.

I smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, “I’ll be the one cheering the loudest. Knock Em dead!” I walk away quickly and glance back seeing him standing there, his right hand gently going up to touch the spot I kissed and we both blush. My heart drops into my stomach when he looks over and sees the model. I have to turn the corner and get to my seat so I don’t see how he reacted. He wouldn’t sleep with her right after asking me out, would he? My subconscious snaps back; you barely know the man! Maybe he does this all the time! I push her down and ignore the bad feeling in my gut.

As I sit down in my seat, everything that just happened hits me and I slouch into my seat, what. the. fuck. I’m going on a date with Grayson Dolan! I got an interview with Grayson Dolan! I kissed Grayson Dolan on the cheek! I bite back a smile and take out my phone, taking a video showing me smiling at the camera, then flipping the camera around and showing off how close I am to the octagon. I sent it to my dad quickly.

He responds almost immediately.

*From Daddy: Wow!! So cool! Have tons of fun! Not too much though! Not ready to be a grandpa...yet ;)

I snort and roll my eyes, responding and then turning my phone off when the lights in the arena dim.

*To Daddy: Lmao, shut up. I’ll try to have fun though! The main card is starting! I’ll talk to you later, love you <3

After I watch a few of the fights before Graysons’, I take some pictures and jot down some information about the fights and who won, knowing it’ll add more substance to my piece.

I watch as the whole arena transforms and the whole place is bursting with barely-contained energy and the place goes dark. Suddenly, lights start beaming and music starts playing, I smile at the Kid Cudi (each fight he uses a different Cudi song) choice for tonight- Enter Galactic as it blasts through the speakers everyone goes wild, Grayson moving swiftly to the octagon with his head low and singing the song softly to himself. I can tell he’s not the same Grayson I was talking to, he has flipped the switch- as he told me he does- and is now The Grayson Dolan- UFC Fighter and Champion.

He takes his shirt off and I blush at his tan skin, the rippling muscles making my brain go straight in the gutter. The ‘doc’ pats him down and puts vaseline on his face. I try not to laugh at how weird he looks with his eyebrows slicked down.

He makes his way into the octagon and I see him scanning the front row when his eyes land on mine. I smile at him but he just gives me a curt nod in response before turning away. I’m taken aback by his attitude but I know he has to stay in his fighter mentality.

The other fighter, Dominick Reyes, comes in and he has a good amount of people cheer for him but the majority of the arena boos when he comes out. I know that having some of how this fight goes in my article will make it look better because it’s such a big deal, so I jot some notes down, some about Grayson and some about Reyes.

I subconsciously chew on my nail, scolding myself when I realize what I’m doing. He’s going to win. I tell myself to calm down, I’ve never been to a fight before so the chaotic and anxiety-filled energy around me must be getting to my head.

The ref announces them both, and then they go to the middle, Grayson goes to touch Reyes’ fist, but Reyes pulls back and smirks at Grayson, “C’mon pretty boy,” he sings.

Grayson’s jaw clenches and he starts moving around the octagon, Reyes slowly falling into a pattern of chasing him around. Grayson continues to step to the right until suddenly, he moves to the left, and Reyes doesn’t see it. I watch in astonishment as he puts all of his power into the punch, hitting Reyes perfectly on the temple. Reyes drops to the ground and Grayson’s about to follow him to the mat but the ref stops him, officially calling the fight. Grayson looks over at me, my mouth hanging wide open and he smirks, winking at me.

That asshole just winked at me.

I stand up quickly, cheering loudly with everyone else and he shakes his head, turning back to his team as they run into the octagon to hug him. Once Grayson is done with everything and the crowd starts shuffling out, Grayson comes over to me, “D’you see that?” He smiles and I smile back.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” He chuckles and grabs my arm pulling me into him.

I gasp as I hit his hard, sweaty chest, “You’re sweaty,” I scrunch my nose up and try to pull away but he tightens his grip, staring down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You owe me a date,” He responds and I roll my eyes, ignoring the hammering of my heart at how close we are to each other.

“What time and where?” I say, acting bored.

He chuckles down at me, “I’ll pick you up at 5:30. This Saturday. Just bring your beautiful self and don’t worry about anything else.”

“What’s the dress code?” I raise my eyebrow and he shrugs.

“Whatever you want to wear, although I’ll tell you right now they might frown upon you wearing lingerie or something like that.”

I snort and as he moves away from me a little and we start walking behind his team I realize that I’m a lot colder than I realized, rubbing my arms subconsciously and realizing that I left my sweater in the car damn it.

Grayson notices me rubbing my arms and bumps my shoulder, “You cold?”

“A little. I have a sweater in the car, I’ll be fine.”

He frowns as he opens the door to his dressing(?) room, “I have a jacket you can wear.”

He goes over to a chair in the corner and grabs a big, soft black jacket with DOLAN on the back and the UFC and Reebok logo on the front. I shake my head, “No, r-really it’s- it’s okay,”

“Just take it, you can give it back later, s’not a big deal, I don’t need it. I’m way too hot right now.”

He hands it over to me and I look down at it in his hands and then glance back at him, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes and comes over to me, putting it on my shoulders and looking down at me, “Just wear it. Please?” He whispers and I flush, seeing that if I moved too fast our lips would be touching.

I nod softly and he steps back. I take a deep breath and put my arms through the sleeves and the jacket immediately warms me. I relax into the warmth and pull it tighter around me and he smirks, “Like you in my clothes.”

I blush and look down, “I- I should be goi-going,” I point my thumb at the door and he bites back a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll see you Saturday then?”

I nod and stutter out a response as I walk back to the door, “Y-yep! 5:30! Wait- I didn’t give you my address o-or my phone num-Ow!” I yelp in surprise when the door handle digs into my lower back and he can’t hold back his laugh as he walks over to me, trapping me between him and the door.

I swallow at his large frame covering me up, his arms resting on each side of the wall by my head, I can see his large biceps and the veins running up his arms in my peripheral vision. He smirks and leans down, “Check your pocket,” he says softly and I look up at him with furrowed brows.

I slowly move my hands to the jacket pockets and after digging around a little I feel a small piece of paper in the right pocket. I pull it out and open it up. I glance up at him in surprise at the digits scribbled onto the paper.

“H-How did you- why-” He cuts me off by moving away from me, my body on fire from how close he had been to me.

I move off the door when he motions for me to move and he opens the door, “Ms. Taylor,” He says, trying to hide a smirk.

I scoff incredulously and walk past him, stopping outside the door in the cold hallway, I turn back to look at him before I walk away to go have a panic attack in my car, “Mr. Dolan.”

A/n: okayyy so I know it’s bad and I’ll be editing it soon but I’m posting this on an ipad lmfao so please cut me some slack.

Tag List:

@pineappledols @episkygrant @georgia302 @dolan-habits @leahs-existentialcrisis @persistence-ofmemories @bubsdolan @ohdolans @vinylhazza​ @vintagedolan​​ @astrodolan @zeusgrayson @deeperdolan @blindedbythelightt @dolsobsessionz @evergreendolan​ @dicedols @plantbasedgray

[squishneedsahero]

Dancing and Drunken Cuddles

All or Nothing

Part 2 of 1

Word Count: 2646

Uhhh idk y'all I have cravings and just need to get them out. As always no smut cause we sex repulsed up in this house babes. Anyways this is a Loki x Bucky x Reader imagine. And also the reader is a werewolf.

Like I said it's a lot and idk but I needed it to be written

A/N: Shout out to @superheroesandstardust fueling me to write this with some sweet tags on the last part.

Exhausted. That was what you were, nothing but exhausted as you lay on the floor of your containment cell. It had been an especially rough night in your wolf form, both of your boys weren't there since they had to go on a mission, and they'd figured out a way to calm you down on the nights of the full moon. It wasn't much and you were still extremely dangerous but with a combination of Loki's magic and the both of them holding you but it helped with the stress and made the transition the next morning more bearable.

So, yeah, not having them there to calm your nerves, plus an especially hard night, you couldn't bring yourself to get up off the floor. They weren't even there for you if you got up and went to your shared quarters, so, you might as well stay there until you have the energy to get up. You end up falling asleep right there on the padded floor, which made sense seeing as you didn't sleep on these nights, meaning you were up for over 24 hours at least.

You wake up around noon, sitting your head up you're surprised to see that you weren't in your cell but in your bed. From there you realize you're thoroughly trapped with two sets of arms around you, a head using your stomach as a pillow and a tangle of legs at the end of the bed. You relax your head back, letting it fall to the side, bringing you face to face with a sleeping Loki, yeah, you weren't getting out of here any time soon if your moving hadn't disturbed them at all.

It wasn't so bad to be trapped in their arms, you honestly loved it, the only problem was you were starving. When you were a werewolf all you wanted to do was eat, you couldn't do that though because humans didn't need to be eaten, but all the energy that went into transforming then trying to shred the walls of your cell as you tried to get free then transforming back, left you running on empty.

Oh so carefully you begin to untangle your legs from their's, then you begin escaping their arms. You're so focused on doing so without disturbing your two boys that you don't notice the fact that their legs once again entrap yours or that an arm you'd thought you'd gotten out from under was back around you. You keep trying, slowly growing more and more frustrated.

"She's quite cute when she's frustrated, don't you think?" you hear a voice say with a hint of a smirk to it.

"I believe she is, but she's always cute, though I do think she might begin trying to kill us if we don't let her go eat soon," the voice comes from the head on your stomach.

Your head flops back onto the pillow with a groan. "Might?" you ask with a hint of sarcasm as a hand cards through the hair on your scalp.

"Fine, love, I suppose the two of us can make do without you for a time," Loki responds in your ear as his arms remove themselves from around you.

You turn your head to look at one of the two men you loved so dearly, "thank you my trickster, it was quite difficult being without you last night."

You feel Bucky roll over on your other side and move so his head is by your's and Loki's rather than on your stomach, "hey, what about me?" he asks teasingly.

You give each of them a kiss, "yes, yes you too Bucky." You say as you get off the bed, "though I'm sure the two of you didn't miss me nearly as much since you had each other," you say with a dramatic hand to your forehead as you walk out of the room. Unfortunately for everyone else in the compound Loki's taste for theatrics had begun to rub off on you and Buck.

When you head down stairs you find everyone hanging out on the couches around a coffee table piled with pizza, you don't hesitate to grab an entire box and plop yourself down on the couch next to Nat.

"The beast as awoken I see," Tony  taunts.

Once you shoot him a glare you say, "yeah, I have and I haven't eaten yet so I suggest you shut your trap before I decide to eat something besides pizza."

"I'm sure theres a reason she's down here without those two love sick puppies Tony, on that note keep taunting her it seems like fun to watch," Clint says from his spot on the other side of Nat.

Tony shuts up after that, leaving you alone to eat. "So, how'd things go?" you ask Steve, since you always felt bad when you couldn't join them due to wolfing out. They brief you on what happened and how they all got some sleep in the quinjet, except those two boyfriend's of yours who were up all night worrying about you. That gets a smile out of you as you finish off another piece of pizza. You roll your eyes, "I told them I'd be fine," you say, blushing a bit, knowing how over protective they could be.

"My brother isn't one to leave the things he loves alone," Thor says.

"Yeah," you say softly, a smile coming to your face as you think about it, as much as Loki got on your nerves for being possessive and over protective it was cute.

"Oh, now you've done it- y/n is being sappy."

That gains Clint a glare from you. Nat jumps in to change the subject from off of your love life, since you could be just as overprotective as the other two thirds of your relationship despite you being a bit more subtle about it. "So, the three of you planning on joining us for Tony's party this evening?" she asks.

This causes you to pause, you'd been in this relationship for nearly a year now, but you all preferred to keep it quiet. So, this meant you didn't usually go to parties together since when you got the least bit tipsy you had trouble keeping your hands off of them, "not sure, I'll ask." The three of you were reformed war criminals, you weren't exactly sure how the world would take it knowing you were all in a relationship. Sure, you kept each other stable, Bucky was reformed, Loki didn't want to take over the world anymore, but you on the other hand were still dangerous even if you didn't want to be. No matter what you did you'd all always be seen as threats.

An hour later you're back in bed with your boys, "Tony's having a party this evening, do you guys want to go?" you ask.

Loki answers first from his place propped on his elbows over you and Bucky, "it's up to you two, I've always said I have no problems with going to a party and being able to show the world that you're mine."

You giggle, your heart fluttering as it always does when he calls you his, and turn your head to look at Bucky, "what about you Bucky?"

"It's been a while since I was able to go out dancing," he says, fingers combing through Loki's hair, "I'd love to spend the night doing that with my two favorite people, doll," he says to you.

You smile, "then it's settled, we'll go out tonight and let the world know that you're both mine and I'm yours," you giggle once more before leaning to kiss Bucky's stubbly cheek.

You movement opens your neck up for Loki to press a kiss to it, "that sounds perfect darling," he practically purrs. From there he turns and kisses Bucky, "right love?" he asks him.

"It does, Lo," he responds, his hand once again running through the other man's hair. A smile settles on your face, everything was perfect.

"Love," you use Bucky's pet name, "could you zip me up?" You ask hours later as you turn your back to him, after asking for help with your dress.

"Of course doll," he responds gently and you feel him run a finger up your spine before he zips up your dress that matched your eyes beautifully. His arms then settle around your waist and trap you against him, you giggle as you feel him lean down to press a kiss behind your ear.

You turn around and lock your arms around his neck, "I love you," you say softly and kiss his lips.

"Might I say, the two of you look ravishing this evening," Loki's voice says from the doorway before he comes over to join in the hug. "It's going to be quite the challenge to be sure that no one else looks at either of you."

You laugh and turn your head to look at him, "I could say the same for you darling," you free a hand to cup his cheek and give him a kiss, "I cannot keep others from looking at me, but I can tell you the only attention I want or need is yours and Buck's."

Loki turns his attention to Bucky with a slight shake of his head, "I suppose," he says running a hand through the other man's hair, "I could play nice for this evening."

Bucky laughs gently and kisses Loki, "at least for a little, you probably don't want the wolf mad at us again, especially cause last time she kicked us out of the bed for the night."

You laugh and shake your head, "that's a lie and you know it. I tried to kick you out of bed but as soon as the both of you gave me those puppy dog eyes you've perfected I let you right back in bed."

"Tsk," Loki clicks his tongue, "no worries darling, the two of us will behave," he pauses and smirks at Bucky, "until we're alone... You on the other hand, I'd be surprised if you can keep your hands off of us, y/n."

This gains a pout from you, "it's not my fault you two can't get drunk," you mutter. They both laugh at your reaction to their teasing before each one linking an arm with yours and escorting you out of the room and down to where the party was being hosted.

The room is set up magnificently, Tony knew how to host a good party, as always it would start out with some casual conversations, drinking and dancing. After the first couple hours it could then go one of two ways, elegant and royal ball like, or like a club with everyone hammered and dancing up on each other. No matter which way the party ended up going all of you always had fun with it.

The three of you weren't exactly late, but you entered after enough people arrived to cause a bit of a scene as everyone's heads turned to see you with an attractive man on each arm walk into the party. You immediately forget their teasing from a few minutes previous and let go of their arms to go get a drink from the bar. They both shake their heads, exasperated but knowing they were in for a fun night. "Might I have this dance, Love?" Loki asks, offering a hand to Bucky.

Bucky accepts the hand with a smile, he hadn't danced for reals since the 40s and he was excited, he'd always loved dancing and so had Loki. They move amazingly together, and you're more than happy to just sit and watch your two boys twirl one another around the dance floor since dancing wasn't so much your thing as it was theirs. They go on for a few songs and when they finally stop they were glowing with happiness. as they then approach you at the table where you had settled yourself with your drink.

"May I doll?" Bucky then asks you to dance and you accept before following him out to the dance floor. The night continues on like this the three of you taking turns dancing together, clearly together for everyone to see, and you of course get a little handsy later in the evening once you're a bit more than tipsy.

Finally all the guests leave and this leave the three of you and the rest of the team sitting around a table chatting and drinking some more. It's at this point that Thor brings out the Asgardian liquor dubbed "excelsior" and pours out four shot glasses, passing one to Steve, Bucky and Loki before keeping one for himself. Your two boys take the glasses offered to them, glancing at each other then you, happily zoned out across their laps, before taking the shots.

Bucky had one of your hands trapped in his and Loki was dealing with your other one that kept trying to creep up his shirt. You were lucky you were cute because you were quite the handful as drunk as you were. They weren't more than a little tipsy from the Asgardian mead they'd had access too, now the excelsior was beginning to set in for them, and let them both get drunk for once. They were still interested in talking with the others while you had given up on conversation a while before, preferring to lounge on them and keep trying to make out with them.

They were having fun with their friends and brothers so they were succeeding with ignoring you for the time being. Plus you were tired out from dancing so even if you did manage to drag them back to the room you'd only pass out after maybe a few kisses. You free your hand from Bucky's eventually to begin running it through his hair while your other hand continues to rest just under the edge of Loki's now untucked button up shirt.

Once the stronger stuff had been consumed by the two men, the three of you didn't last long remaining with the others. It had been really easy for you to get them to carry you to your bed, sure they weren't as drunk as you but now they were more than just tipsy, It had just been a matter of you pulling Bucky into an awkwardly angled kiss, since you were lying across his lap, and the hand that was resting on Loki's side moving so your fingers were just under the waistband of his pants. With that the three of you were getting off the couch, you being carried in Bucky's arms while Loki puts his arm around both of you and teleports you to your room.

Once you're in your bedroom you're suddenly motivated to move on your own, slipping out of Bucky's arms and standing on your own. You struggle with your dress for a few moments, forgetting about the zipper, before Loki rescues you. You giggle drunkenly and kiss his cheek before stripping down to your underwear, stealing one of their shirts off the chair it had been thrown over and flopping down on your side of the bed and promptly passing out. It wasn't exactly your side since you were usually in the middle but they made do, climbing in on the other side of the bed.

They organize themselves and get comfortable, letting Loki be the little spoon and Bucky the big spoon. At least until you roll over and throw an arm and a leg over top of both of them and slip your other arm and leg underneath them to make yourself the biggest of all the spoons. Somehow you're comfortable despite the fact that you are in a position similar to that of a sloth in a tree, completely wrapped around them.

[jangofctts]

Could you please do something about your ocs eating out habits or kinks?👀

iMMA JUST DO THEIR KINKS BC I HAVE ANOTHER ASK FOR THE EATING OUT SO KEJKRJEH here yA aRE below the cut

Sunburst Squadron kinks

Blanche: size kink aLL THE WAY--he either likes a really smoL bb to swing around and just hug to his chest (or see that tummy bulge when he fuckin you kejrkjrh) or a veRY TOL bb he can bury his face into them tiddies or if they look like they can step on him. blanche is a big guy so with a tall s/o sometimes it’s cool to be able to look at your s/o in the eye kwjekjh. ALSo he do be bustin a phat nUT very quickly if you either bite him when he’s balls deep in you OR you let him fuck your tits.  Hair pulling--he wants his haIR YANKED, he’ll pull yours too if you want. mild handcuffs/ropes kink--he loves it when you man handle (as much as you can lmfaoo) and tie him up, maybe edge/overstimulate him. he likes a little pain like bite marks or scratches0--not toO much tho. oR ride his face, he ADORES that. it just shows how much he trust you when you tie him up so :)) (and well uh....he’s let you peg him if you asked teehee) idk if it’s a kink but kjhkj he gets hOT and bothered when youre being a badass or youre sparring with him. a Slight breeding kink--he likes seeing his cum drip out of you just so he can finger it back in.   

Blue: he likes grinding, ik it aint a kiNK BUT, he likes it a lot. he’s a bit of a crier too, he likes praising/worshiping you and doesn't mind if you return the favor. blue likes mutual masterbation--loves watching you fuck yourself and then when he's close he likes to cum over your thighs/tummy. he really likes your lips--they always make such pretty words and his name sounds so nice when you say it so, he reALLY likes it when you suck him off. he likes comm sex, likes to call you and whisper dirty things to you when he’s off planet. dont wanna say somnophillia but like he likes the idea of either you waking him up with a bj or him walking you up with oral, ya feel?   

Jaws: suCker for finger sucking--yours or his, he doesn't care. he’s big sappy romantic so..may I suggest...an oral kink where he’ll happily go down on you for hours with those puppy dog eyes. he likes when you ride his face or you offer to take him down your throat. he likes to do very light role-play like the “oH nO, there’s a big bad trooper who caught me stealing, whatever shall I do?”. he does have a kink for making sex tapes, they're kinda like shitty pornos buT he adores watching them when youre not there. he’ll make you watch them with him ifyou ARE there but--he just wants to document all of it wkejrhejh. he’s a bit of a joker so, he tends to run his mouth bUT when he goes quiet save for those breathy grunts yOU KNoW he’s close to cumming   

Sweets: sWeeTS BABY--listen, he is VERY vanilla at first bc he has no clue what he’s doing so ya gotta explore with him. tho he do be a big snacker so foodplay is something he’d like. put whipped cream on yours/his nipples anD YES he goes wild. tiddie fuckin is a yES, he goes feral for it, makes the most noises when you let him do it and cums verY fast wkjrhje. he doesn't like his hair YANKED but if you softly pull it and guide his mouth to wear you want him he likes that. ngl he does like fucking outside. he’s a nature boy, so his dream is just to fuck you on a bed of moss or some shit kwjerh--usually it ends up just being the floor. listen....yall forget that he’s an A Class sniper--boy sorta has a predator/prey kink. 

Kamikaze: kami is the nastiest mf ngl and like one of the only true tops in the squad kfhfh. his favorite place to fuck is the cockpit of his ship, or in very semi-public places. he’d rather have someone watch rather than watch you get fucked by another person, but he’d be fine with either. he likes teasing/overstimulation a littLE TOO much, so when you start to cry that’s when he relents. he likes handcuffs obvi, begging, likes watching you deepthroat and alSO likes breath play. kami is a Mean top so if you’re being too much of a brat he’ll spank you. he also has a kink for....vibrating panties ejjhejrh like if you’re in a meeting he’ll turn the vibrator on at the worst moments, yknow? little bastard man. he has a degradation kink to his s/o if a partner is into that   

Fuse: listen--this boy thinks he’s a top but he is Not krjkrjh. he’s a very bratty bottom and only presents as a top bc he’s so much of a brat that he’s always assumed he’s just a top wkrjkwh. this is controversial and I hate writing this but he might have like a mommy/mistress kink. he has a massive praise kink so do with that as you will. he likes wax play and also has a mild pain kink--heart eyEs mf when you give him a light slap on the thigh or cheek. likes biting and to be bitten or scratched. he do be liking quickies--he doesn't last very long but he can go a couple rounds sO quickies are his jam. he’s kinda a pig and will swipe your underwear (just a couple pairs ejrjeh) but dont tell him you know or he’ll just lie out his ass. HOWEVER. if yall are fighting or bickering he's a very big fan of hate sex while youre pinned against the wall yknow?     

Bruiser: tbh this boy is pretty vanilla when you first meet him (besides the size kink but rjekhkw), he fucks hard with a hand around your throat bUT once you introduce him to more things he'd be down. he’s an....ass man OOp. he doesn't wanna be pegged but he’ll buy you a nice butt plug or see how much of his cock he can fit in your ass yknow? he likes choking too but what reALLy gets him going is fucking in full armor. he thinks role playing is sorta dumb buT he adores when you’re already laid out on the bed and ask for your big strong trooper to come fill you up with all the armor on. he gets a thrill seeing where your nails chipped the paint when he’s on the battlefield. imma say it--he has a weapon kink. he gets so hard so fast if you kiss his blaster or grind on the hilt of his knife. he also likes fucking on furniture or walls--rarely a bed for some reason so ekjrhejh

Void: switch kjfhkwjhr--once he’s off the battlefield on leave and after you get him all relaxed he’s pretty mellow. he’s easy with anything you wanna try, what position you want him in yknow? you want him to kneel? sure thing. you want him to spank you? why not. he do be liking shower sex, something about the cramped refresher where there’s hardly any room for the both of you just gets hiM GoiN. he has a kink for dirty talk, so he’ll just be next to your ear the whole time chatting away. he has a kink for like, public places too I guess? mostly just storage closets but kjehrejh that’s p much it. ngl he’s gonna ask you if he can try to make you squirt, and if you say youve never tried/couldnt, well--he IS a medic after all kjhkjhr. he also has a kink for oral, so bonus points if he makes you squirt in his mouth. he hates anything that’ll leave a mark besides hickies/bite marks, sO that’s one of the only things he wont do  

[moonlightlullaby]

Joining the call, we’re welcomed by the amigops, Brooke, Karl and Bretman.

“So, everyone, this is my older brother, Dylan!” 

“What’s up, guys? Nice to meet y’all!” variations of hi’s and hello’s hit our ears all at once.

“Hey, Dylan!” Karl chimes after them “Good to see- well, talk to you again, man!” 

“Oh yeah! Thanks for helping us the other day.” Corpse sounds much more relaxed now - I mean, eveyone does… Bottom line is that streaming, however authentic and open you are with your viewers, does put a strain on you, so hearing everyone - myself included - more loose doesn’t really come as a surprise.

“Yeah, wish I could’ve done more. It sucks that you still lost.”

“Hey!” I elbow his side, causing him to dramatically gasp and fake cry and everyone in the call to laugh.

“Yeah, about that, you shouldn’t mention it around Alex. He’s still super bitter about it.” I giggle at Karl’s remark and, on cue, none other than Alex joins the voicechat.

We keep chatting as more people join us, introducing themselves to my brother - and Dave to both of us since it’s our first interaction ever. I’m really intrigued to see how he plays.

Dyl and I have decided to megazord today and play as one - not without some whining from Alex. He’s claimed it would be unfair and disproportional - even though no one else seemed even slightly bothered by it - and has only agreed with it after I’d exposed my brother’s pathetic skills in among us - earning me a glare and a light punch from Dyl - and reminded him of how much better a victory would feel knowing he didn’t trick eight people, but nine.

With Tina’s arrival, we all agree on who will be playing the first round and get the game started. CREWMATE flashes on the screen. Alright, let’s try and stay alive.

Yeah, that didn’t work out. 

For some reason - read: lack of functioning braincellls -, Dyl wanted to do simon says first and, since the universe loves screwing us over, of course Ludwig would walk in and shoot our astronaut just as we’re about to finish the task - after having already failed twice, may I add. Both of us just stop and stare - I, at the ceiling; Dyl, at the white little guy flopped over - before we burst into laughter. 

“Of course this would happen!” he shakes his head and, being his persistent self, opens the task to start all over.

And just in case you’ve ever doubted Murphy’s law, you should definitely reconsider it because guess what happens next: right before Dyl presses the last button, an emergency meeting is called. 

“Alright, fuckers, who did it? Who would hurt my baby girl Y/N like this?” although I feel very honored to see Brooke defending me with so much passion, I can’t contain the giggles that escape my mouth at the contrast between how threatening and intimidating she’s trying to sound and how she actually sounds.

The meeting is not productive at all. No one is sussed and everyone skips. “Don’t worry, D and missy Y/N, we’ll get whoever had the audacity to do this. I promise!” Sweet, Bret, sweet!

When “No one was ejected. (Skipped)” takes over the screen, a low, soft sound fills my ears. However, by the time my brain catches up, the sound’s stopped. Corpse was humming ‘cheater’! Yes, the infamous 2008 nightmare of a song I was stupid enough to share with him!

“Did you show him?” my wide-eyed brother whispers to me. I immediately shush him while muting ourselves at the speed of light. “Dylan!” I whisper-shout, turning to face him. This asshole is smirking! 

I narrow my eyes and furrow my brows, mentally throwing daggers at him and setting his body on fire. I open my mouth, but, before any sound can leave it, a notification pops up: a private message from the one and only boyinaband. A glance at my brother tells me his mind is somewhere else already as he pets Fiyero - I mean, our family’s never been known for our impeccable attention; who would’ve expected it to be any different now? -, so I open his message.

hey, y/n!

don’t mean to make things awkward at all, but i’d like to thank you for whatever you’ve told corpse

yk, he tends to shut off when things get hard, but he reached out the other day for help and company

so thanks

Why is he-? How does he-? What-? I’m…

Has Corpse said anything about me to Dave? Why would he do that? 

No, no... No, Dave might have just guessed it since Corpse and I are constantly talking

...right? 

Yes, yes, it has to be it.

oh also, it’s great getting to meet you and play with you!

you’re really cool indeed :)

Y/N: oh there’s nothing to thank me for, really

but i’m really glad we’ve met too!

i love your content btw and you’re funny af

Dave: thx! 

so it’s lud and...?

he killed me so gracefully idk how to feel

Y/N: jshdfgjhdgfkwfgjewv

fuck idk either

Speaking of imposters, all of our tasks are yet to be done, I should get back to them.

After that round - in which, by the way, Brooke was the other imposter and carried the entire thing after Lud vented in front of Tina, wasn’t able to catch her and got ejected -, the afternoon went on pretty smoothly.

Dylan and I arguing every 2 minutes about what strategy we should follow and ending up with a no-strategy approach. Friends killing - and being killed by - friends, lying to friends, throwing friends under the bus… you know, very friendly things. Dylan and Bretman basically ignoring everyone else and isolating themselves in their own bubble for half of the time. Everyone just vibing to miscellaneous tunes - from Dolly Parton to Wilbur Soot, from CORPSE to BLACKPINK -, and chatting, laughing and having a good time as Toast had proposed.

Without the distraction of an audience and the pressure of being funny or 666 IQ, I got to actually talk to and learn more about Leslie, Dave - who (I was right) is a sweetheart and with whom I hit it off instantly -, Sean, Toast himself and, well, pretty much everyone. 

It’s so crazy how, in a little over one month, you can connect so much with these many people! Some who were complete strangers to you until then and others who you already admired and looked up to… and now, you can call them all your friends. It’s insane!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

🐝 bee-girls are ruining my life 🐝

chapter 12: what friends do

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A/N: Hi! I wasn’t sure if I’d post today, but, quite frankly, writing’s the only thing I can get myself to do lately and knowing that there are some people out there who want to read what I have to offer really warms my heart 🤍 Sorry for the sappiness and for any typos heheh See you on tuesday hopefully!

Taglist: @callmemaeve-y @victoria-a567 @the-thighs-of-betrayal @tclegane  @hydrate-tion @neenieweenie @clubfairy @cherry-piee @summerbbygirl @officiallyunofficialperson @a-dot-dev @that-chick212​ @bellomi-clarke