#but I managed to include his fond smile in the end as he tucks them in(side the car)

[braceletofteeth]

2 times Suzaki watched Amagai leave without him

+ 1 time they left together

[pxnsneverland]

Heartbreak Hotel | austin!elvis x oc (part 2)

(gif source: violaobanion)

plot summary: Angel Casteel is a small town girl who lucked into working as a costume designer at a film studio. Unfortunately, her confidence in herself wavers as she is assigned to work with Elvis on his latest motion picture. Overcome by his star power at first, she slowly starts to realize there is a man behind the fame, a man she understands. But as they grow closer, the world grows more turbulent, especially Elvis's world. Will this Angel be able to save Elvis from himself and the people around him? Or will getting mixed up in his word prove to be her downfall as well?

Part 1

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2664

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 2: A Bullet, a Tear, and a Silent Room

  Weeks of filming on Elvis's movie had passed, and Angel had become his regular companion. Their evenings often ended just as this one began, with drives down the glittering streets of Los Angeles or quiet dinners in tucked-away restaurants that Elvis knew would offer them some semblance of privacy. Their bond grew deeper with each shared sunset ride, dinner conversation, and moment spent away from the glare of the spotlight.

On one of the days where filming was paused, Elvis had invited Angel to his trailer. They were standing outside of the trailer joined by Elvis’s father Vernon, his cousins Jerry and Billy, and Colonel Parker. The group was lively, sharing stories and hearty laughs. Vernon was recounting tales from Elvis's childhood, embellishing them with a fondness only a father could muster, while Jerry and Billy chimed in with their memories of mischief and mayhem they had caused together. Colonel Parker was the only one who seemed unimpressed by Angel’s presence. When she was around Elvis, Colonel Parker always had a peculiar look in his eyes. It was a gaze that said, "You don't belong here." Angel developed a quick mistrust of him, but didn’t let it on to Elvis. After all, he worshiped the man.

Despite this, she tried to stay focused on the conversations around her. Elvis seemed oblivious to the tension, laughing heartily at a joke his cousin Billy had just cracked. The trailer was filled with memorabilia and photographs from Elvis’s career, each telling a story of triumph and nostalgia. Angel felt a pang of gratitude for being included in such a personal aspect of Elvis’s life.

After a while, Elvis pulled her aside into a quieter corner of the trailer. "You alright?" he asked softly, concern lacing his voice.

Angel nodded, though she hesitated for a moment before answering. "Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just not sure the Colonel likes me very much."

Elvis's expression shifted slightly. "I know he can be a bit intense," he admitted. "But he's been with me through everything. Gotta trust him, you know?"

"I know," Angel replied, though her voice carried a trace of doubt.

Elvis caught the hint of uncertainty in her voice and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Angel,” he began, his voice low and earnest, “you’re here because I want you here. I’ll handle the Colonel, alright? Don’t you worry about him.”

Angel nodded. Despite the reassurance, she couldn't shake off the feeling of being an outsider in Colonel Parker’s eyes. Still she managed a smile towards Elvis. “Alright. I’ll trust you. For now.” She smirked at her tease.

Elvis's answering smile was contagious, his eyes lighting up in a way that eased some of her concerns. "That's the spirit," he chuckled, leading her back to the group. His arm settled comfortably around her shoulders as they rejoined the group. The lively conversation had died down as everyone’s attention was turned towards the television.

“What’s happened?” Elvis questioned.

Jerry pointed to the TV. Elvis sat on the couch while Jerry cranked up the volume on the television. The news was on, and Cronkite, the news anchor, had a somber expression. “Officers also reportedly chased and fired on a radio-equipped car containing two white men,” he said over the speakers, “Dr. King was standing on the balcony of his second-floor hotel room tonight when, according to a companion, a shot was fired from across the street.”

Angel sat down gently next to Elvis, speechless. The room fell silent as the gravity of the news sunk in. Elvis’s face, usually so full of light and laughter, darkened with a mix of confusion and sorrow. The rest of the group shifted uncomfortably, the earlier jovial mood shattered by the harsh intrusion of reality.

Elvis' eyes were getting red and filled with tears as he stared at the television. “Dr. King. He always spoke the truth.”

Angel grasped Elvis's hand. He grasped it hard before bringing her down and placing her head on his shoulder. Angel only allowed herself to be stunned for a few seconds before calming down. As they continued to watch the news, he ran his palm up and down her arm.

“They rushed the 39-year-old Negro leader to a hospital,” Cronkite continued, “where he died to a bullet wound to the neck.”

Jerry made a shaky motion with his head. “Unbelievable. To shoot someone just because you don’t like what they say.”

“People have been shot for less,” Angel commented.

Elvis sniffled, and his grasp on her tightened. He remained looking at the TV, his eyes gleaming and unblinking. “When I was young and still lived in a negro neighborhood, I used to hear the most wonderful music comin’ from the church tent. The soul and heart of a community flowed out through gospel music that could be heard for blocks. Dr. King fought for that heart and soul, for a world he could see that was better than the one we have.”

Angel raised my head. “What are you thinkin’, Elvis?”

“We need to do somethin’,” Elvis said as he met Angel’s eyes. “Say somethin’.” He returned his gaze to the television. “What happened to Dr. King, what’s happenin’ in the world…it ain’t nothin’ to stay quiet about.”

“Now, now, my boy,” came Colonel Parker from his space on the opposite couch. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. What has happened here, it is tragic, yes. Very tragic. But one in your position must stay out of politics.”

Elvis crinkled his brow staring at Colonel Parker as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “How could you say that?”

“I am doing what I always do. I am looking out for you and publicly addressing this assassination nonsense will have the police all over you again.”

Vernon ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Maybe Colonel is right, Elvis…”

Elvis shook his head. “No, no that ain’t right, Daddy. This is bigger than me, it’s about what’s right.” He stood up, his frame casting a shadow across the room as the television flickered in the background. “Dr. King was about peace and equality. If I have a platform that can help share that message, how can I stay silent?”

Angel watched him, pride swelling in her chest. She knew the risk of speaking out, especially in an era where everything you said could be twisted and used against you. But here he was, willing to stand up for what he believed in. It reminded her why she was drawn to him in the first place - beyond the charm and the fame.

Colonel Parker scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re talking about alienating half your audience, Elvis. You think this won’t impact your career? Your shows? Your endorsements? Your pictures are already selling out the box office less and less. Do this and they’ll toss us off this lot for good.”

Elvis stood to his feet, his face red and fists clenched. A mask of battling emotions ran over his face before he stormed out of the trailer. Angel glared at Colonel Parker as if she could stab him with just her eyes before following Elvis out of the trailer. She found him pacing back and forth angrily on the makeshift lawn they had made outside. Elvis's hands were balled into fists, his jaw clenched as he continued to pace. His frustration seemed to radiate off him in waves, and the cool night air did little to quell the storm brewing within him.

Angel approached slowly, her heart aching for the man before her. She reached out, her hand gently touching his arm. He stopped pacing and turned to face her, his expression softening as he met her gaze.

“I can’t just sit back and do nothing,” Elvis said, the passion in his voice clear. “How can I look at myself in the mirror if I don't use what I have for good?”

Angel nodded, understanding his turmoil. “I know,” she said softly. "And that's one of the things I admire about you. You have a big heart, Elvis. But sometimes the best thing to do isn’t the right thing.”

“So you don’t think I should say anything either?”

“I didn’t say that. Say something, maybe just don’t say it all.”

Elvis paused, considering her words. His expression was one of a man torn between his ideals and the realities of his position. "Maybe you're right," he conceded eventually, his voice low. "Maybe there's a way to do this smartly. To stand for something without turning it into a war."

Angel smiled gently, relieved to see him thinking strategically rather than letting his emotions get the better of him. "Exactly," she said encouragingly.

Elvis smiled bringing his hands up to cup Angel’s face. He placed a small kiss on her forehead. “This is why I need you around.” Elvis leaned back, still holding Angel's face gently in his hands. "You keep me grounded," he murmured with a tired yet sincere smile. The stress lines that had furrowed his brow earlier seemed to soften under the comforting glow of the porch light.

Angel felt a blush creep up to her cheeks. She knew how she felt about Elvis, how much she had enjoyed being by his side and how much she wanted to stay there. But she could only dream about his feelings for her. She didn’t dare do more than that. The night air grew cooler as they stood there, the quiet surrounding them like a comforting blanket. Elvis's gaze held hers, intense yet gentle, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause on its axis.

In that suspended stillness, Elvis’s voice broke through the silence, softer now, but with an undeniable weight. "Angel, I've been thinkin' a lot lately—about where I'm goin', what I'm doin'. And you're always there, somehow part of my thoughts.”

Angel’s heart raced. “Elvis...” she whispered back.

Elvis took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. "I don't know what the future holds or how much I can change the world, but I know this—I want you in my life, Angel. Not just now, but as long as you'll have me."

Angel's breath caught in her throat. Her emotions were a whirlwind. “What are friends for?” She chuckled nervously. She wouldn’t hope he meant something more. She couldn’t hope.

A touch of melancholy lined Elvis’s features. "No, Angel...”

"I should get some sleep," she quickly interjected, “Big day tomorrow.”

Elvis’s hand tightened slightly on her arm, holding her back. “Wait, Angel. Please.” His voice was earnest, pleading.

But she didn’t turn back around. She kept walking quickening her pace as the tears started to fall. No. She wouldn’t hope. He was on another planet and she was just here on Earth. Her heart beat faster in her chest. Whatever she felt would disappear, it had to.

A few days passed and Angel made it impossible to be caught alone with Elvis. Every time he tried, she would make sure she was busy. Even fixing his wardrobe was done quietly with none of their usual banter. Elvis noticed the change immediately. The laugh that used to brighten his day was muted, and her smile, once so quick and warm, now seemed forced at best. It hurt him more than he expected, this distance she had put between them. He tried to respect it, to give her the space she obviously needed, but it gnawed at him, this gap that had formed out of a confession he hadn’t even gotten a chance to make.

One afternoon, during a break in rehearsals, Elvis found Angel adjusting costumes in the back room. She was rearranging a sequined jacket when he quietly stepped in. The sound of his footsteps on the wooden floor made her tense up, her posture stiffening as she pretended to be engrossed in her task.

“Angel,” Elvis started, his voice gentle, trying to bridge the gap that had formed between them. “We need to talk.”

She didn’t look up, focusing intently on a stubborn thread. “There’s nothing to talk about, Elvis. I’m just here to do my job.”

He moved closer until he was standing right behind her. “Since when did us being us become just a job?”

Finally, she looked up, meeting his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. Her eyes were guarded, but he could still see the hurt hidden deep within them. “It’s always been my job,” she whispered.

Elvis’s heart sank at her words, the weight of them heavier than any lyric he'd ever sung. With a step closer, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “No, Angel, it wasn’t,” he countered softly.

“It should have been. You’re a superstar and I’m just a costume designer. Our friendship was wrong in the first place. It should’ve stayed professional.”

Elvis’s reflection in the mirror showed a man grappling with emotion, his usual confidence replaced by a vulnerability that made him seem almost unrecognizable. “That’s not how I see it. I ain’t never seen it that way.”

Angel’s eyes filled with tears, her resolve wavering under his earnest gaze. “Elvis, please don’t,” she pleaded softly, turning away from the mirror to face him directly. “I can’t be another one of your fleeting distractions.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“You can have any girl, Elvis. Any girl. And it’s no secret to anyone that you’ve had more than your fair share. Why would you think any different of me?”

Elvis took her hands in his, the sequined jacket forgotten on the floor beside them. “Yes, there have been others, but none of them have ever touched my heart the way you do.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Elvis's gaze intensified, his grip on her hands firm, yet gentle. “I don’t, Angel. I’ve never felt this way before.” Angel shook her head trying to pull away, but Elvis held on. "Please," he implored, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. "Don't shut me out. Not now. Not when I'm finally bein’ honest.” It had been years since he had let his emotions spill over like this. The last time he could remember was when his mother had died.

Angel’s resistance faltered as she looked into his pleading eyes. The Elvis standing before her was not the confident showman the world adored but a man stripped of his veneer, vulnerable and sincere.

"You really mean that, don't you?" she murmured, her voice barely audible over the thrumming of her heart.

"I've never been more serious about anythin’ in my life," Elvis replied earnestly.

Angel's features softened, her defenses slowly crumbling under the weight of his words. The distance she had meticulously maintained over the past few days seemed trivial now, irrelevant in the face of his confession. Tears brimmed in her eyes, spilling over as she finally allowed herself to believe him. "Elvis, I—I don't know what to say."

"Just say you believe me," Elvis urged gently, a hopeful note threading through his voice as he wiped away her tears with his thumbs.

She took a deep breath, steadying the tumultuous emotions within her. "I believe you," she whispered.

Elvis's face broke into a relieved smile, one that reached all the way to his eyes, lighting them up in a way that Angel hadn't seen in days. “So you’ll be my girl?”

Angel hesitated, the gravity of the question anchoring her to the spot. She knew what this meant, the depth of commitment that question carried in its wake. “Yeah, I’ll be your girl,” she finally whispered back.

Elvis pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lip, sweet and affirming. The kiss lingered, a promise sealed between them. It was gentle, tender—far from the passionate, showy kisses that Elvis was famous for on screen. This was real, raw, and it spoke of truth.

Stay tuned for part 3!! Click HERE to view!

[cha-melodius]

This is very exciting I can’t wait to read what you come up with.

For me?

Firstprince. A corner office.

(HELLO LOVELY thank you for this prompt, and I hope you enjoy the finished product. 💕)

chamel’s fandom fest info | read all the fics

Step Into My Office, Baby

(firstprince, 2.4k, E; read it below or on AO3)

Henry is staring out the window at the southern end of Central Park when he hears a very familiar cadence of footsteps entering the office behind him. A moment later, Alex gives a low whistle.

“Look at you, Mr Fancy Pants with the corner office,” he says, his voice low and teasing and shot through with fondness.

Henry still winces slightly. “I did try to turn it down.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re an idiot,” Alex says. He’s leaning up against the door frame, his legs crossed at the ankle and arms folded in front of his chest. It’s late in the day, and he’s shed his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbow, revealing muscular forearms that Henry can’t keep his gaze from lingering on. When he manages to force his eyes up, Alex is smirking at him. “You earned it, H. Fair and square.”

If anyone had told Henry two years ago that this moment would happen, he would have laughed in their face. To say he and Alex did not get along at first would be putting it mildly. Or rather, Alex resented Henry and everything he embodied, and Henry saw the benefit of keeping Alex at a distance even as they were forced to share an office. Then, getting accidentally locked in the building overnight together yielded a tentative truce, and a fast friendship had bloomed in its wake. It’s been lovely and also dreadful, because now Henry is constantly forced to weather his warm smiles and his teasing smirks and his bloody forearms.

The owner of which is currently flopping bodily onto Henry’s new couch and wiggling his hips in a completely obscene manner as he gets comfortable.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna fucking live in here,” Alex tells him as he stretches his arms up and tucks his hands behind his head.

Yes, nothing to worry about at all.

~~~~~

The corner office comes with promotion and a whole heap of new responsibilities, and Henry quite quickly finds himself drowning in work beyond the long hours he’s used to spending with Alex at the office. He’s in the middle of a particularly terrible stretch at the moment, the looming deadline somehow simultaneously the light at the end of the tunnel and the headlamp of an oncoming train. Alex has been in the thick of it too, working late nights beside him, though that apparently doesn’t include tonight.

Henry loves him—truly, to his endless misery—but he needs to work, not listen to Alex chattering aimlessly while he sits on Henry’s couch tossing M&Ms into the air and catching them in his mouth.

“I was thinking about Thai,” he says, as if it isn’t gone one in the morning. “D’you think Noodies is still open?”

“No,” Henry huffs. They’ve been closed for three hours, and Alex knows this. “Why are you still here, anyway?” he snaps without meaning to, immediately regretting it when Alex’s face falls.

“Well, I was keeping you company and making sure you don’t collapse into an endless spiral of work like a fucking black hole, but I guess Mr Corner Office is too important to need anyone’s help,” Alex sneers, pushing himself angrily to his feet.

Christ, they haven’t spoken to each other like this since that horrible first year, and even more than the work, that’s what finally breaks Henry. Alex is halfway to the door by the time Henry catches him by the elbow, and he jerks out of Henry’s grasp immediately. Thankfully, he does stop, though the glare he levels at Henry does a poor job at masking the hurt written on his face.

“Alex, wait,” Henry pleads. He lets out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand over his face. Christ, he’s too bloody exhausted for this. “I’m sorry. It’s just this project is driving me batty. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Well,” Alex says, fidgeting as he frowns down at the ground. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” He sighs as he looks up again. “But I get it. They’re putting too much on you.”

Henry reaches out and puts a tentative hand on his elbow again; this time, he’s not shrugged off. “Can you forgive the stuck up prick in the corner office who takes everyone else for granted?”

“That guy?” Alex snorts. “No. But you’re not that guy, H.”

“I feel like him sometimes.”

“C’mere,” Alex mumbles, and the next thing Henry knows he’s being tugged into a tight hug.

It’s not the first time they’ve hugged, but it’s the first time it’s been so fierce, and it feels like it fundamentally shifts something inside Henry. Alex winds his fingers into Henry’s collar and buries his face in his neck, and it’s all Henry can do to hang on like he’s clinging to a life preserver in a storm.

Except somehow, Alex is both the life preserver and the storm.

~~~~~

When the project finally wraps up, it’s a big deal, and the whole office celebrates accordingly.

“Work hard, play hard,” Alex sing-songs with a wink as he fills Henry’s champagne flute again.

He’s been ricocheting around the room, putting that patented Claremont-Diaz charm to good use. There’s almost certainly a promotion with his name on it after all of this, so he has more than enough reason to celebrate. He’s already been teasing Henry about stealing his office. Henry feels jubilant, effervescent like the bubbles bursting in his glass, and he forgets to be self-conscious about the way he watches Alex. Forgets to school his expression. Forgets not to smile too broadly when Alex hooks an arm around his neck and hangs off him like a monkey.

“Hey, hey, c’mere,” Alex says all at once, tugging him toward the door of the massive conference room that’s serving as the party hub.

“You quite literally just poured me a new drink,” Henry points out.

“So bring it with you. C’mon,” he almost whines, which should not be as endearing as it is. He’s unleashing his most devastating giant brown puppy dog eyes. Henry never stood a chance.

“Where are we going?”

“I just need a breather,” Alex sighs heavily. He drags Henry down the office corridors at nearly a jog, until the sounds of chatter and clinking glasses fade away, all the way to the open door of Henry’s office. At Henry’s cocked eyebrow, he laughs. “Best view in the building.”

He doesn’t walk over to the bank of windows, though. Once Henry’s inside the door, he pushes it shut, sealing them off from the rest of the office. Then he returns to Henry’s side and plucks the champagne flute from his hand. He downs half of it in one go, laughs at Henry’s affronted “hey!” as he deposits the glass on the desk, and grabs the fronts of Henry’s jacket before he starts walking backward across the office. Henry can’t help but laugh helplessly at Alex’s chaotic manhandling, at least until Alex stumbles into the couch and he’s dragged down by Alex’s dead weight dropping out from under him. They land in a giggling heap, and Christ, he’s in Alex’s lap, but when he tries to disentangle himself, he feels Alex’s grip go tight at his hip. An arm slides around his waist, loose enough not to be demanding, but firm enough to prevent him from moving away.

Oh.

Startled, he looks down at Alex, whose cheeks are flushed a dusty rose from the champagne and the exertion, who’s breathing heavily through pink lips temptingly parted as he stares back up with his bottomless dark eyes. He isn’t laughing anymore.

“I like this office,” Alex murmurs. “Something about it settles me. When I’m here.” His grip shifts on Henry’s hip, fingers tightening. “With you.”

“Alex,” Henry whispers, barely daring to breathe.

One corner of Alex’s mouth twitches. “Maybe it’s not the office.”

It’s impossible to tell which of them moves first to close the narrow gap between them, lips meeting in a fierce, hungry press that quickly deepens. Alex nearly bites at his lips, dragging his teeth along their inner edges, and it shouldn’t work for him but fuck, it really does. Henry finds himself pressing closer, revelling in the way that Alex’s arms tighten to bring their bodies together as he sinks his fingers into Alex’s curls. 

“Christ, I never thought you’d want—” Henry starts, though he doesn’t manage to finish that train or thought before he’s diving in to kiss the corner of Alex’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Alex breathes as he tips his head back to give him better access, “me neither.”

“What?” Henry asks, huffing a soft laugh against his skin.

“I mean, does anyone expect to fall in love with their work nemesis?”

That makes Henry pull back and stare down at him in shock. “You’re—”

“In love with you?” Alex finishes. There’s an impossibly soft look on his face, but it’s undercut by a flicker of nervousness. “Yeah, baby. Head over fucking heels.”

Henry feels himself tremble at baby, which is an entirely novel experience, though perhaps not unexpected given how his usual reaction when Alex teasingly calls him sweetheart. He’s so fucking overwhelmed that the only thing he can manage to do is lean in and kiss Alex again, slow and tender and full of all the words and emotions threatening to choke him. He presses his forehead to Alex’s when they part, and for a moment they just breathe together—unconsciously, perfectly, in sync. It’s everything he never let himself imagine, all those late nights together, all those meetings and emails and coffees delivered with sunny smiles that he refused to read into. Alex is warm and solid under him now, grabbing his waist as they kiss and kiss and it becomes heated again, until he’s rocking his hips up eagerly to meet Henry’s in a way that is rapidly going to become a problem.

Especially since Alex seems to find it not a problem at all.

“Wait, Alex, we can’t—” Henry tries, biting down on a groan when Alex palms over his hardening cock before making quick work of his belt and the fastening of his trousers, “—the windows.”

As if that’s the most troubling thing about them having sex in Henry’s office while half the company is just down the hall.

“We’re on the fiftieth floor, baby, no one’s gonna see,” Alex says, undeterred, grinning wickedly as he slips a hand into Henry’s boxers.

Right, then, that’s… good enough, actually. Henry’s been waiting for this for two and a half bloody years and he’s not really inclined to wait any longer. He kisses the smile off Alex’s face as he sets to work on the buttons of Alex’s shirt, rapidly pulling them open so he can get his hands on more of Alex’s skin. And Christ, he’d known Alex was fit—it’s hard not to know, with how ridiculously tightly cut he wears his suits—but it’s another thing altogether to drag his palms over the swell of his pecs and the hard lines of his stomach. Alex bites down hard on his lower lip when Henry tweaks one of his nipples, then retaliates by twisting his palm with just the right amount of pressure over the head of Henry’s cock. Henry moans as his hips buck up into Alex’s grip, chasing the friction that borders on just this side of too much.

“What do you want, baby?” Alex murmurs against his lips, and ‘everything’ feels like too big a concept in the moment, so Henry chokes out, “Just this, just you—” and lets himself get lost in the feeling of Alex’s hands on his skin. He’s so unbelievably worked up that it’s not long before the tension building in his groin is reaching a breaking point, but it’s looking down that finally does him in—watching the head of his cock appear and disappear within the tight circle of Alex’s long fingers, brown skin against dark pink. He tumbles over the edge with a choked off laugh, clinging desperately to Alex as he works him through it, until he’s hissing at the point of oversensitivity.

For a moment he just breathes, his face buried in Alex’s shoulder, mindful of Alex shifting slightly beneath him even if he’s trying not to be obvious about it.

“Not trying to harsh your afterglow here, but d’ya think you could move so I could get a tissue or something?” Alex asks eventually.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Henry rasps, dropping his hands to the fastenings of Alex’s trousers. He shifts back to get a better angle and tugs Alex’s boxers down enough to release his cock, long and rock hard and leaking at the tip, then takes Alex’s hand covered in his come and wraps it around his shaft with his own, weaving their fingers together.

“Oh,” Alex gasps, his hips immediately rocking up into their combined grip, Henry’s come slicking the way and filling the silence of the office with some of the most obscene sounds Henry’s ever heard.

He lets Alex set the pace, which starts out as a slow drag and rapidly picks up tempo, until Alex is quivering under him and swearing in at least two languages. Alex tips his head back against the couch, and Henry can’t resist ducking down to scrape his teeth along the long column of muscle so temptingly laid bare before him. The movement seems to make every muscle in Alex’s body tense up, and then he’s coming with a “Fuck, baby,” that has Henry groaning along with him. 

They clean up quietly, trading soft kisses that they occasionally get lost in, setting each other to rights enough so that they can— well, perhaps not return to the party, but at least leave the building. Henry doubts that their absence has been noticed, anyway.

“Jesus, I’ve been wanting to do that since you got this office,” Alex groans once they’re done, pushing a hand through curls as he stretches slightly where he sits on the couch. 

“What, that specifically?” Henry asks, furrowing his brow at him.

“I mean, more or less,” Alex admits. One side of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk. “To be fair I think I’ve imagined every possible way of taking you apart on this couch.”

“Christ, Alex.”

Alex grins broadly and shifts over to press his lips to the corner of Henry’s mouth. “You wanna hear the list?”

“You’re an incorrigible delinquent,” Henry protests, letting himself be drawn into another kiss. Then he leans in, lips brushing the shell of Alex’s ear, and whispers, “Tell me at home.”

[ponyam]

Heyyyyyy! I can’t express how much I love your writing honestly and I really want to request something if your still taking them. Could you do a Zhongli x reader? Zhongli takes reader on a date to propose to them and could you include the wedding too if that’s too much to ask? I would really appreciate it :)❤️❤️

thank you so much! and sorry this took so long omg

devout

zhongli x reader [gender neutral]

synopsis: zhongli takes you on a proposal-date and sweeps you of ur mfkn feet <3

cw: slightly suggestive towards the end, mentions of a [food] coma, i'm a sap

The light of the morning sun shone brightly, yet the air was brisk as it nipped at your cheeks. The crisp smell of sea air wafted in from the docks, while the rhythmic chime of ship’s bells echoed off the walls of buildings, indicating that sailors had risen to greet the day and the unruly tide that awaited them.

Your hand was pocketed with his, keeping your grip warm and secure as you walked closely together through the awakening streets of Liyue. At the brink of dawn, your lover began persistently nudging you awake, peppering your face in sweet kisses while promising you with an even sweeter meal as a form of bargain. How lucky he was that it appeared to have worked.

Mornings like this weren’t totally uncommon with Zhongli, however this seemingly newfound fervor for planning a whole day trip like this was a little out of the ordinary. When you asked him what the occasion was— out of slight concern that you might’ve forgotten it— he denied that there ever was one; he simply wanted to express his “love and adoration through a little quality time together.”

Before you could press any further, something had caught your lover’s attention, as you were suddenly being ushered in another direction. He escorted you to sit at one of the tables at the Wanmin Restaurant and, once you were settled, excused himself to order food, planting a quick peck to your cheek in the process. Looking around you noticed that the area wasn’t too crowded at this time of day; there was a certain peacefulness that had settled over the atmosphere that contrasted heavily with the normally bustling streets of the harbor. Perhaps that was what he intended by waking you up so damn early.

Breakfast was delicious, as promised. It also served to ease some of the bitterness you felt towards being jostled awake at the crack of dawn. Zhongli didn’t hold back, either. Anything and everything that you might like was placed on the table in front of you, and you weren’t sure how he was able to afford it, nor if you’d manage to finish it all without going into a coma.

On top of all that, your lover seemed to have brought his own food from home, though it was neatly wrapped and sat underneath the small table. Again, when you asked him about it— not having ever recalled him making it— his reply was as vague as ever; “oh it’s just a little something for later.”

After boxing all the leftovers from the meal that Chef Mao so kindly put together despite the large request, Zhongli offered to take you to visit Dihua Marsh to show you a few of his favorite sights, and maybe even enlighten you with some of the history as well.

There was something so enchanting about the way he spoke; his deep, honeyed voice coating over his words as he recounted tales of his many years of living. He exuded the calm and sophisticated aura of a scholar, which he practically was whether or not he chose to admit it, yet his occasional naivety and silliness were equally charming qualities of his.

You failed to realize how quickly you were drowning in his presence until he directed a question at you, which you had to embarrassingly ask him to repeat. Fortunately, Zhongli wasn’t irritated that you hadn’t been paying attention, in fact he found the dumbfounded expression you wore to be quite endearing.

“I said,” he began as he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his thumb and forefinger while tucking a few stray hairs and a glaze lily that he must’ve picked earlier, gently behind your ear.

He then leaned in, arms snaking around and pulling you towards him by the waist as his breath danced along the side of your neck, lips ghosting over your skin.

“...would you allow me to take you to see a few ruins with me? There is still so much that I wish to show you…”

A sudden tingle shot down your spine as Zhongli’s lips moved to decorate your neck in soft, delicate kisses that seemed to leave a burning imprint in their wake, leaving you slightly flushed. It was truly astonishing how easily he could leave you breathless, even with such little strenuous activity. His affectionate demeanor was slightly peculiar, too, but you were hardly in the position to complain about it.

“Then show me,” you replied, managing to tame the swarm of butterflies that had almost completely consumed you.

Letting out a deep chuckle, Zhongli withdrew his kisses while his hand moved to cup your cheek. He hummed in satisfaction, admiring you with his glowing amber gaze for a moment before speaking.

“Gladly.”

That afternoon was spent with Zhongli as your tour guide as you traversed the various decaying stone structures throughout the Guili Plains, Luhua Pool, and finally, Jueyun Karst, where Zhongli recalled some of his early memories of the adepti with a fond smile adorning his face. You quickly discovered him to be quite the archaeological expert, not that you ever doubted it of course, but he seemed to have quite the knack for uncovering intricate little mechanisms that had been hidden away and preserved in stone over the course of the last few millennia.

He was also very adamant about showing you many of Liyue’s great sights, and was not afraid to express this by taking you to every available vantage point, regardless of how far or out-of-reach it seemed. Even if you claimed to be exhausted, Zhongli would simply carry you the rest of the way because you were going to see this view. And what a view it was. From up high it was easy to take in almost the entirety of Liyue in all of its golden splendor, which was the original intention in bringing you here. This was something that he spent years constructing and cultivating, something he took great pride in and fought hard to protect. It was his world, and you were his crowned jewel.

As the sun was beginning to set, Zhongli escorted you back to the harbor before excusing himself to quickly go and “check something,” sending you off once again with a sweet kiss, and asking you to meet him at the peak of Mt. Tianheng in about twenty or so minutes. You smiled to yourself as you waved goodbye, curious as to what he had in mind and slightly amused by his frantic behavior. You thought back to your earlier denied inquiries regarding what was so special about today.

Perhaps now you would get some answers.

When you arrived at the rendezvous point, well, least to say you were taken aback. Laid out before you was a spread of a variety of your favorite foods, including desserts and a tea set, accompanied by an array of flickering candles that illuminated the small picnic blanket as well as the single glaze lily that grew nearby. Just past it stood the man that you had fallen in love with, his back turned as he watched the sun sink beneath the clouds.

“What’s all this?”

Immediately you caught his attention.

“Ah, there you are, my dear,” he said, turning slightly to face you. “Come here. I have something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

He extended his hand out towards you, a gesture for you to stand beside him. You approached him hesitantly in an attempt to not disturb the lovely display he had assembled for you, while letting his arm gently drape itself across your shoulders.

Your breath caught in your throat. By the Archons, the view was stunning. Sure, you had been sight-seeing all day and this could hardly be any different from the last dozen places you trekked to watch the skyline, but there was something about the way in which the glowing aura of the evening sky reflected off of Liyue and the twinkling sea of its harbor that left you in completely awestruck.

Had you not been quite as transfixed as you were in that moment, perhaps you would’ve caught sight of the distant, far-away look in your lover's eyes. Maybe you would have noticed the way he was fidgeting slightly, or the way his eyes were no longer trained on the view, but on something far more radiant.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, snapping him out of his trance.

Zhongli smiled, enjoying watching the awe and wonder twinkle in your irises.

“Indeed it is.”

You felt his arm lift away from your shoulders.

“But I think I have found something far more precious.”

You felt his hand slip into yours.

“Oh really? And what’s tha—”

When you turned, Zhongli, Rex Lapis, the former Geo Archon, was kneeling before you, regarding you with such an adoring gaze as if you were the deity to be revered, answering your question without needing to utter a single syllable: ‘You’

“(Y/N),” he began, giving your hands a light squeeze. “There is much I’ve been meaning to say to you, but I fear that I have such little time,” he sighed. “When I first gave up my gnosis, I found myself wandering aimlessly, unsure of my place in this world now that I was no longer Rex Lapis. I am now just a mortal man, with no duty to my people. It was a… foreign concept to me, at first. I wasn’t sure how to lead a carefree life, with a clear and resolute heart, until I met you.

“I never anticipated to meet someone quite like yourself, nor did I intend to fall in love as deeply as I have, but I hold no regrets. You have shown me true happiness, and for that I must thank you.”

Zhongli pressed a kiss to your knuckles as you felt your eyes begin to well up with tears.

“Each day spent with you is as valuable as gold to me. Our time together is boundless. I knew not my place in this world before, but I now realize that it has always been right here with you.”

He let out a shaky breath.

“(Y/N), my love, I cannot imagine a world without you in it, and I wish to form a new contract with you from here on out, so please…”

Reaching into his pocket, Zhongli produced a small, black box. Inside was a beautiful jade ring, crested and adorned with gold.

“...will you marry me?”

—

It was a warm summer’s night, and the moon rose full, its light ricocheting off of crystalline streams of water as they cascaded down the high cliffs which surrounded you. The air was humid, but somehow the combination of mist and the gentle night’s breeze made each inhale feel more rejuvenating than the last.

Fireflies were out tonight. They were dancing about you and your fiancé as you stood together side by side adorned in matching hanfu, rapidly beating hearts synchronizing to the same rhythm. It was a relatively quiet ceremony. There weren’t too many guests, and the venue was fairly secluded, making the process feel much more intimate.

After lighting the altar candles and paying respects, a tea ceremony was held, followed by the exchanging of vows. A few adepti were present, as well as some close friends and family members. Seldom did you release each other’s hand, regardless of what you were doing or who was looking. It provided a sense of security for the both of you, a silent reminder to one another that ‘yes, I’m still here, and yes, this is real.’

Although Zhongli is known for being a very composed gentleman, he still found it difficult to restrain himself from sweeping you off your feet and twirling you around while kissing you all over; he was overjoyed, though he was not the easiest person to read.

Instead of performing such an extravagant display of affection, Zhongli opted for a single, chaste kiss once you completed in saying your vows. It was extremely tempting to turn that one kiss into many, much more passionate kisses, but Zhongli was still quite aware of his audience, giving him reason to hold back.

After the wedding reception was held and you had just sent off the very last guest, your husband pulled you aside, albeit a little harsher than intended. You let out a small yelp as you collided with him, surprised by his sudden brazenness.

“You look divine,” he spoke softly, admiring you as you were bathed in moonlight.

A hand then moved to brush some of the hair away from your face, while his other remained gently clasped with yours. Soft lips moved to caress your forehead, and then your temples.

“I have been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he continued.

His lips then moved to your cheek, then jaw, lingering there for a moment while his hand cradled your face.

“Longer than you can imagine,” his voice was deep, sultry, and right in your ear.

He moved to repeat the same process on the other side of your face.

“So forgive me if I’m a little selfish tonight.”

He kissed the tip of your nose before moving his lips to hover over yours, warm breath mingling with your own.

“I must make up for the lost time, after all.”

Zhongli sealed his promise with a kiss that was deep and devouring, conveying all the emotions he had ever felt for you as well as one last, simple message:

'I am utterly and wholly devoted to you.'

[jmbringitonworld]

A Blueberry Breakfast

AO3 link for those who prefer to read fics there.

I know I've already written something for the May prompt (Breakfast) by @frans-monthly, but I had another idea for it and, since I missed April's prompt, I decided to write both ideas, because why not? Horrortale is my favourite AU, and Blueberry is my favourite Sans, so I didn't want to pick between the two, especially when I don't have to. As such, have some Underswap fluff for the end of May! (seriously, this is nothing but pure, tooth-rotting, utterly self-indulgent fluff)

____________________________________________

A sunbeam had managed to slip through a gap in the curtains, to land on Frisk’s face, but it wasn’t that which had woken her up. Within her womb, her daughter gave another forceful kick, and the human woman groaned, pressing her face into her soft pillow. She was tired, always tired, during these final weeks of her pregnancy, and all she wanted was a few extra minutes of sleep, but her unborn baby was already proving to be as energetic and lively as her father. Moreover, the baby was pressing down on Frisk’s full bladder. With a resigned sigh, the mother-to-be dragged herself out of her warm, comfortable bed, to waddle awkwardly over to the adjoining bathroom.

Once she’d relieved herself, and splashed cold water onto her face to wash away any lingering drowsiness, she re-entered her bedroom to find her husband standing beside their bed, holding a tray laden with what could only be her breakfast. Sans had prepared her fluffy, blueberry pancakes, with caramel drizzle, a side bowl full of ripe, juicy-looking blueberries, and a tall glass of milk to wash it all down with.

Frisk’s stomach growled and Sans beamed at her, clearly proud to have enticed her appetite. She’d been craving blueberries throughout most of her pregnancy, and her ever thoughtful husband had been sure to include some in every meal, no matter what he made. It never failed to warm Frisk’s heart. She smiled gratefully at Sans, as she made her way to his side, giving him a soft peck to his cheekbone when she reached him.

“Thank you, love. But you didn’t need to bring it up here, I could’ve gone downstairs to have breakfast.”

Despite her words, she allowed her husband to help her back into bed without protest, letting Sans tuck the blankets snuggly around her lower body as she sat up, and prop up the pillows behind her aching back. With a relieved sigh, she sunk back into the pillows behind her, glad to be off of her perpetually sore feet again. Sans placed the breakfast tray on her lap, and smiled brightly at his wife.

“NONSENSE, SUNSHINE! YOU’RE CARRYING OUR PRECIOUS BABY IN YOUR BELLY! YOU SHOULD BE TAKING IT EASY! DOCTOR’S ORDERS!!” he insisted, his firm tone and words at odds with his broad smile and starry, blue eyelights. “HOW ARE YOU FEELING, FRISK? DOES YOUR BACK HURT? DO YOU WANT ME TO MASSAGE YOUR FEET AGAIN?? OR YOUR SHOULDERS??”

It did and she did, but Frisk only shook her head, assuring Sans that she was fine, thanks. Her husband was doing so much for her as it was; she didn’t want to add anymore to his plate. Sans frowned lightly at her, seeming to see through her lie, but decided to let it go. Picking up a fork, he cut off a chunk of blueberry pancake, speared it with his fork, and eagerly held it up in front of his wife’s mouth. Frisk rolled her eyes at him in mock exasperation, a fond smile tugging at her lips, before she obligingly parted them to accept the food, indulging her husband’s desire to feed her.

Gentle sweetness flooded her mouth as she chewed on her pancake, and she let out a soft, appreciative moan. Sans looked at her expectantly, practically buzzing with nervous excitement, as he awaited her verdict on his cooking. Frisk swallowed her mouthful of pancake, and gave Sans a sincere smile.

“It’s delicious, love, as usual,” she assured him, and Sans preened. “You’ve really become quite the master chef these past months. I’m so impressed with how much you’ve improved in such a short amount of time.”

Sans puffed out his rib cage, placing both of his hands on his hip bones, as he adopted a proud stance.

“MWEH HEH HEH!! THE MAGNIFICENT SANS IS ALWAYS VERY IMPRESSIVE! I MAY NOT HAVE KNOWN HOW LACKING MY CULINARY SKILLS WERE BEFORE, BUT! ONCE I REALISED THAT I HAD TO BE BETTER, I PUT ALL OF MY HEART AND SOUL INTO IMPROVING MYSELF. THERE IS NOTHING I CAN’T DO FOR THE SAKE OF MY BELOVED WIFE AND DARLING DAUGHTER!!”

Frisk smiled warmly at him, her chest swelling with pride. When they’d found out Frisk was pregnant, her and Papyrus had reluctantly been forced to tell Sans the truth about how terrible his cooking actually was, for the baby’s sake. Sans had taken the news surprisingly well, and even though he’d been very upset at being lied to all these years, he’d chosen to focus instead on learning how to cook something that wouldn’t make his wife and unborn child sick. And he’d quickly succeeded, each dish turning out tastier than the last. Frisk made sure to praise his progress every chance she got.

Swallowing another bite of blueberry pancake, Frisk licked the caramel sauce from her lips and sighed in contentment.

“Thank you again, Blue,” she reached out a hand to wrap it around one of Sans’s, enjoying the feeling of cool, smooth bone against her skin, silently glad that he was wearing his gloves less and less often, ever since their daughter had started kicking and Sans had wanted to feel her movements more directly against his bones. “Not just for breakfast, but for everything you’ve been doing for me since I became pregnant. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do much to help you around the house, but I promise that once the baby’s born, I’ll make it up to you.”

Sans’s smile fell a little at her words. He gave the hand he was holding a light squeeze, and tried to offer his wife a confident grin, even though his soul clenched painfully in his rib cage.

“THERE’S NO NEED FOR THAT!” he shook his skull adamantly. “I’M HAPPY TO BE DOING THINGS FOR YOU! MORE THAN HAPPY! YOU AND OUR DAUGHTER ARE MY WHOLE WORLD, AND TAKING CARE OF YOU TWO IS MY GREATEST JOY! EVEN MORE THAN CRAFTING INGENIOUS PUZZLES, OR DEVISING CLEVER RIDDLES! SO PLEASE DON’T FEEL BAD FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO DO AS MUCH AS YOU USED TO, WHILE YOUR BODY IS WORKING SO HARD TO NURTURE AND GROW AND PROTECT OUR PRECIOUS BABYBONES. I DON’T MIND DOING MORE FOR THE BOTH OF YOU. FAR FROM IT! I WISH I COULD ALWAYS BE THIS HELPFUL TO YOU...”

Sans lifted Frisk’s hand to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles, while giving her such a soft, tender look of adoration, it made Frisk’s heart skip a beat. Sans continued to gaze lovingly at his wife, as he nuzzled his skull into the palm of her hand, feeling both of their souls hum and pulse in sync.

“I’M REALLY GLAD YOU’RE FINALLY LETTING ME HELP YOU MORE,” he sighed gently into his wife’s hand, relishing the softness and warmth of her human skin, more than enamoured with her familiar touch. “I KNOW HOW INDEPENDENT YOU ARE, PRINCESS. AND I ADMIRE THAT! I REALLY DO! BUT I STILL CAN’T HELP WISHING YOU’D RELY ON ME A LITTLE MORE. I WANT TO BE MORE HELPFUL TO YOU. MORE USEFUL TO YOU. ALWAYS. EVEN AFTER OUR CHILD IS BORN. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH , SUNSHINE, AND NOTHING MAKES ME HAPPIER THAN MAKING YOU SMILE.”

Frisk felt her heart melt, her eyes tearing up slightly, as her soul bond with Sans sang with his undying love and devotion. Filled with the deepest affection for her husband, she caressed his skull with the hand he still cradled to his cheekbone, and grabbed his other hand, bringing it to her mouth to press a tender kiss to each of his bony fingers, before placing his hand on her distended belly. The baby responded to her father’s presence with another few, well-placed kicks to his hand, and both expectant parents smiled, eyes and eyelights shining with joy, although Frisk couldn't supress a slight wince. Sans gently rubbed his wife’s baby bump, both to soothe Frisk’s discomfort, and to feel his unborn daughter moving, alive and healthy beneath his phalanges.

Frisk’s face lit up with the radiant smile Sans loved so much, and she entwined their fingers, her soul glowing with happiness.

“I love you too, Sans,” her soul bond thrummed with the truth of her words, as Sans’s heart-shaped eyelights twinkled brightly as they gazed at her. “And I do rely on you, more than you know. Not to help me with work or chores or anything like that. But to help me smile. No one can do that but you, no one can make me truly happy but you. So please, love, can you keep doing that, even after our baby is born?”

“MWEH HEH HEH...” Sans leaned down towards her, his smile wider than ever. “ABSOLUTELY! YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOUR SANSATIONAL HUSBONE FOR SMILES, BREAKFAST AND JAPES (NOT NECESSARILY IN THAT ORDER)! AND EVEN WHEN OUR DAUGHTER, AND ANY OTHER BABYBONES WE MIGHT HAVE, IS WITH US, I’LL STILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO BE THE VERY BEST HUSBAND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD! I PROMISE! MWEH HEH! HEH!!”

And Sans leaned down the rest of the way, to swallow his wife’s giggles as he sealed her lips in a deep kiss. Under their linked hands, their daughter kicked her approval of her parents’ love, while further away, Frisk’s blueberry-filled breakfast lay momentarily forgotten, as the couple lost themselves in their blissful kiss.

_______________________________________________

With this, I've now written the entire Frans family making breakfast! Sans here, Frisk in the previous entry ("Breakfast for the Soul"), and their children in "Happy Mother's Day". It wasn't intentional, but I still think it's kinda neat ^^

I'm not sure what I'll work on next, because my muse is fickle and unpredictable, but I have a few ideas floating around in my brain, so I'm feeling pretty hopeful at the moment. I really do love writing Frans fluff, so I'm entirely unapologetic about this oneshot. I had fun writing this, and I hope you had fun reading it.

[whimsii-cal]

New Game Plus | an Inscryption fanfic | ch.2: Say Cheese

before you read:

for this chapter, I do sort of flip-flop between referring to the MC as “The Challenger” and simply “Challenger.” This is mostly because I’m starting to consider it more of a name than a title, as it’s the closest thing to a name they really have. Please excuse this slight difference.

notes: 1: this story is canon divergent. Not everything is reliant on in-game events and it’s just meant to be something for everyone to enjoy, so please don’t come at me if it doesn’t line up perfectly with the more complicated and in-depth lore and canon content of Inscryption. 2: although this is written from third person, the Challenger in this is meant to be a self-insert for the readers. You may also interpret these interactions as whatever you want. Feel completely free to tag as self insert, x reader etc. etc, just please respect my DNI and rules of my blog. With that in mind, enjoy!

Characters: Leshy (briefly), Challenger, P03/Stoat, the Lonely Wizard

Summary: P03 is returned to the form of a stoat to ensure its surrender is legitimate; As the Scrybes try to adapt to their new situation, The Challenger has a lovely (and very stimulating) walk around the islands with the Lonely Wizard and Stoat, which unexpectedly includes a chase, a few tears, and some very fond memories.

Warnings: none

———————————————

“Alright,” Leshy knelt, hunching forward and adjusting the lens of his camera. “Are you prepared?”

P03 produced a series of electronic chirps and beeps, glaring at its fellow Scrybe with an expression almost comparable to a pout. “No, no, I’m not, and you know that. But just do it already.”

“If you so insist. Say cheese.”

“I’m not…I’m not going to say cheese. Don’t make this more humiliating for me, old man.”

The Challenger waved to P03 to catch his attention. The robotic Scrybe scowled back at them pitifully, but they only smiled at it and gestured to their face. “Hey, it’ll be okay. Chin up! Er…screen up!” They could’ve sworn they saw P03’s face form a tiny smile at their words before… click. The dark room burst into a flash of white. The Challenger squinted, recoiling and shielding their eyes.

…and by the time they opened them, Leshy had risen to his hooves, clutching a card cautiously between his fingers. “It is done.” He croaked softly, turning his perpetually wide-eyed gaze on them. “I think it is best that you keep this card with you, Challenger. We have agreed to spare him the pain of being played and sacrificed this time, so we shall refrain from placing it on a board.” He pressed the card into the Challenger’s hands. They peered down at the little stoat now Inscrybed on it and narrowed their eyes. The creature pictured upon the card had its eyes closed, not moving other than the occasional slight twitch. “Ah. It doesn’t look like it’s awake…”

Leshy hummed in agreement. “Yes. It will be a while before it regains consciousness. Being Inscrybed in such a manner can be rather…exhausting. Let it rest.”

“Ah, okay…” They tucked the stoat card away in the side pocket of their bag, patting it gently as they did so. “Sleep well, P03.”

Leshy nodded slightly, scratching absentmindedly at his messy, twig-riddled hair. “Well, what do you plan to do now? If you are to remain in this world, you’ll want to find something to do with your time.”

“Well, uh, I was hoping I could play another game with you?” The Challenger smiled bashfully. “I enjoyed playing with you, Leshy. I’m just glad it didn’t have to really end.”

Leshy stared at them in silence. With his unchanging eyes and most of his face obscured by his scruffy beard, it was hard to tell just what his expression meant. After a moment, he managed a “Really? You—You want to…?” Did he just stutter? Hearing that in his voice simply sounded wrong. With Leshy’s usual flowery way of speaking that flowed more smoothly than ink from a pen, the small trip-up in his words was a very sudden and startling reminder that the great Scrybe could make as many mistakes as any human. He cleared his throat and shook his head swiftly, as if hoping the Challenger did not notice the stutter, and cast his eyes down. “I…would love to, and that means a great deal to me. Unfortunately, however, the other Scrybes and I must dedicate today to sorting out our situation. You see, as Magnificus mentioned, there is much more to this than P03 simply waving a white flag and it all coming to an end…but the moment I have spare time, you have my word that we will play together again.”

The Challenger shrugged with an understanding smile. “Oh, that’s alright! I’ll find something else to do until you have the time.” They swung their bag back over their shoulder and tugged at the straps. “Y’Know, I haven’t explored as much of this world as I’d like to just yet.”

“I see.” Leshy glanced sideways, tapping his fingers on the table he stood next to. “You go explore, then. I look forward to our next meeting.”

The Challenger bobbed their head in something between a short bow and a nod and started toward the cabin door. “Okay! Bye, Leshy!”

“Farewell for now, small one.”

• • • •

The rhythmic footsteps of their boots against the bridge’s boards failed to drown out the roaring of the ocean waves, crashing in the distance and lapping at the support beams below. They found themself humming a quiet tune, unsure what else to do to fill the void their mind had encased them in. Although the air was filled with the sounds of the waves and their steps, it felt too quiet.

Too quiet, that is, until they heard the manic shrieking

“What the…?”

Whatever that ear-piercing sound echoing in the distance was, it seemed to be getting louder by the second…the Challenger squinted at Magnificus’ tower up ahead, trying to make out the source of the noise…

Oh.

Oh.

A vaguely humanoid blob of darkness was sprinting along the colorful sands of the Island of Magicks…directly toward Challenger. The shape grew bigger and bigger, the screaming louder and louder. They wanted to run, but they remained frozen in place. It was only at the last minute that they let out a strangled cry of their own and scrambled backward, but it was too late. The dark shape launched itself straight at them, engulfing their head.

They collapsed to the ground, thumping harshly against the planks of the bridge. Their scream was muffled by whatever had just clung onto their face. “AAAAHHH! WH—WHAT—?”

“HAAAAHAHAHA! HELLO, CHALLENGER! HELLO!”

OH.

“You!” They gasped in simultaneous concern and relief. It was the Lonely Wizard! They managed to pry the clingy, cackling blob off of their head and hold them as far from themself as they could, breathing heavily. “You—You scared the crap out of me!”

“YES! YES! YES!”

“No! Not yes.” Challenger scolded gently. “That was very rude and uncalled for. You should be more careful.”

“OH. I am very sorry.” The little mage kicked their legs, wiggling excitedly in Challenger’s grip. “I was only EXPERIENCING THE WONDERS OF LIFE! You understand, don’t you? DON’T YOU? HAHAH!”

Challenger couldn’t help but smile at Lonely’s enthusiasm. “So you escaped P03’s card, huh? I guess that’s what happens when the Scrybe becomes the Inscrybed.”

“Yes! Yes! That is correct. Normal creatures they have captured do not escape, however ScrybesandtheservantsorassociatesoftheScrybesarefarmorepowerfulanddifficulttobindtocardssowhentheonewhoinscrybedthemgetsinscrybedtheycannolongercontainthemandtheyareabletobefreed!”

“What?”

“SCRYBE GO POOF, SOME CARDS GO WHEEEEE!” HAHA!”

“…Alright, then.”

“SO I AM FREE NOW!” Lonely hopped around in a circle around Challenger, giggling hysterically all the while. “Truly free! Truly STIMULATED! It is joyous! Frabjous day! Perhaps even a callooh, callay!” They flopped over on the bridge, bursting into another bout of cackles as they flailed their limbs around aimlessly like an overturned roach.

What…what’s all that noise…? Why is it so dark…?

Oh. That’s right. The flash. I’m a stoat again.

Who’s yelling? Is the Challenger here? Where am I? Should I speak?

Challenger chuckled quietly. At least there was someone to fill the silence, now, even if that someone was doing so by yelling at ear-bleeding volumes. “Hey, I guess we’ve both got something to do, now. I’m waiting for my friend here to wake up. You wanna go on a walk or something in the meantime? Get some, uh…stimulation?”

That’s them! That’s their voice!…Wait, friend? Are they talking about me? They called me their friend?

Lonely shot right to their feet, bouncing on their heels. “Oh, YES! I would LOVE that! WALK! WALKWALKWALK! YES!”

Good god, that’s loud. No wonder I woke up. Is that the little void freak? Must have escaped the card when I got Inscrybed again…

“‘Kay, then, let’s do it!” Challenger chirped. Not entirely sure where they were going, they continued on in the direction they were walking— toward The Island of Magicks. The Lonely Wizard bounded along beside them, eager to go practically anywhere as long as the journey meant sights to see and sensations to feel. It had been so, so long since they had explored the outside of the tower! Wouldn’t this be exciting? Wouldn’t this be STIMULATING?…as long as they didn’t go inside. Or anywhere near that…chamber of darkness…ANYWAYS! THEY WERE WALKING! THIS WAS GREAT! “Say, Challenger! Who is this—this friend you are awaiting the awakening of?”

“Oh, it’s P03…” Challenger answered with a sigh.

So they were talking about me when they said their friend…!…why does that make me feel…good?

“OH! Yes! He was Inscrybed again, you said? Why is that? Was he defeated? That is why I’m FREE! HAHaAh!”

“Defeated…? Uh, not quite…it surrendered. Leshy was gonna hurt it to stop it, but I didn’t let him…then it just said it would stop with the whole Great Transcendence thing. Like it just…gave up.”

“…Gave…up?” The Lonely Wizard’s voice fell to a lower volume for once. “That doesn’t sound like P03. O-or any Scrybe, for that matter!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought!” Challenger laughed with a hint of melancholy. “…But the others said it was more complicated than that, and I guess they didn’t trust it, so Leshy turned P03 into a stoat again to…ensure he wouldn’t be able to do anything even if this wasn’t a trick?”

“Oh.” Lonely’s wide, crazed eyes dropped to the ground. “That sounds…very unstimulating…to be imprisoned like that.” They shivered and twiddled with the bauble of their hat.

it is. it really is. ugh.

“I know.” Challenger’s voice sounded weak and weary. “The Scrybes did it because they don’t really trust P03. And that’s understandable considering all the wrong things he’s done…”

…I’m sorry.

Challenger huffed, squeezing the straps of their bag as they paused at the border between the white planks of the bridge and the multicolored sands of the island. “…but I trust P03. It may be kinda mean…and selfish…and has very confusing and concerning ulterior motives…but I’ve glimpsed a side of it that cares more than it let’s on. I believe he has the potential to be a good person…computer…thing. That’s why I stopped Leshy from hurting it in the first place. It’s my friend, and I believe in it. I always will.”

…I…oh…

P03 felt…something. Of course there were many irritating sensations that came with being trapped in this inefficient organic body, but this was something new. He writhed with discomfort in the darkness of Challenger’s backpack, a strange, strangled whimper escaping him. What was this? His eyes burned, his throat felt like it was closing up…

Tears.

Was he…? Oh, god. He was crying. The Challenger couldn’t see this. He couldn’t let them. The Scrybe-turned-stoat emitted some kind of ridiculous croak and gurgle as it pawed at its dampened face, cursing the paper of the card that confined it. Why did beasts have to have such unnecessary functions? This was so embarrassing…

Just then, P03 heard the Lonely Wizard’s shrill voice squeak: “OH? WHAT’S THAT SOUND?”

Then came the voice of Challenger. “…Huh? Yeah, what is that? It’s like a baby mouse choking on syrup.”

OH, COME ON! I DO NOT! Don’t look here, don’t look— AH!

Suddenly, P03 felt fingers gripping it. It shrieked in a panic and tried to hide its face as much as the stiff feeling of being trapped in a card would allow it, covering its eyes as the light of the sun struck it for what felt like the first time in forever. Challenger gasped, grinning at the beast card in their hand. “P03! You’re awake!”

“No, I’m not!” The stoat whined, stifling a sniffle.

“Hey, are you…crying…?”

“NO, I’M NOT!” He repeated. “I’m just not used to being a beast again, o-okay? It feels freaky! Just…give me a minute!”

“Whatever you say…take as much time as you need, bu— AH! HEY!”

Quicker than they could react, the stoat card was torn from their hands by none other than the Lonely Wizard. “MINE! EHEH!” Both P03 and Challenger shouted scrambled protests as the little mage laughed and leapt about, evading the Challenger’s grabs and lunges. OOOOHHH, A CHASE! NOW THIS? THIS WAS STIMULATING!!!

“Lonely, come on! give it back!”

“HAAHAHA! BETTER CATCH ME!” And before P03 or the Challenger could do anything to hinder them, the Wizard was barreling away toward the outskirts of the island, the stoat card clutched in their grubby little gremlin hands.

Challenger groaned loudly and urged their tired legs forward without any choice but to chase after the mage. Massive floating Mox crystals and luminescent trees flew past their peripheral as they ran with everything they had, but they only lagged behind, unable to match the Lonely Wizard’s pace. All they could do was shout and demand that Lonely stopped— but predictably, they didn’t listen.

P03, meanwhile, had gone from sobbing pitifully to screaming at the top of its lungs in rage within mere seconds. The imprisoned Scrybe’s voice was a frantic cacophony of screams, animalistic squeaks and many remarks such as “UNHAND ME AT ONCE,” “I’LL KILL YOU!”, and “STOP POKING ME!”

…The Lonely Wizard neither unhanded P03 nor stopped poking him. They simply continued to run around like some kind of hyperactive cheetah on caffeine, weaving between glowing trees and half-buried mox gems, laughing like a child and occasionally throwing lighthearted taunts at the Challenger pursuing them. Eventually Challenger gave up— P03 assumed their feeble little human body could no longer handle all the running— and they flopped down against the trunk of a nearby tree, gasping for air and shaking their head, exhausted.

Finally, the Lonely Wizard skidded to a screeching halt and padded on over to Challenger, plopping down beside them with a joyful expression as if nothing just happened. “THAT WAS FUN! AND! AND, AND—“

“Stimulating?” Challenger finished breathlessly. “Yeah. So stimulating I feel like my lungs are on fire. Thanks a lot, Lone.” They gently punched Lonely in the shoulder, earning a defiant snicker, and snatched the card back.

P03 scowled up at Challenger. “Ugh, finally. How do you deal with this…creature? Now I feel all gross! I don’t know where that things weird little freaky fingers have been! I—“ Its outraged ramblings were silenced by Challenger pressing their finger against its mouth. “Shhshsh. I got you back. Quit complaining.” They sighed and flopped back against the smooth bark of the tree, their breath still ragged. “God, I’m exhausted. Was that really necessary, Lonely?”

“YES!”

“Whatever you say, you little…uncannily fast shadow thing.” They peered toward the horizon with half-lidded eyes, lips quirking in a warm smile as they took in the sight of Magnificus’ tower bathed in the warm light of the golden hour, all of the crystals and strange trees scattered around the island gleaming brightly. “The sun’s starting to set already…been a long day, huh?”

“Yes…” Lonely bounced in their seat in the teal-colored sand, fidgeting and gazing directly at the sinking sun…probably not healthy, but Challenger didn’t have the heart to tell them not to. The wizard finally seemed to settle down, resting their head on their knees. “I…do not remember much before Magnificus put me into the DARKNESS…but I recall watching the sunset like this. It was very…I-It was very…”

“Very what, freakshow? Stimulating?” P03 guessed with a flat tone, clearly exasperated.

“NO. Well, yes, it was stimulating, but I was going to say…it was beautiful.” They closed their eyes for a moment, taking in the warmth of the sun. “This is beautiful.”

“Huh. I guess you’re right.” P03 sighed, then squeaked in surprise as Challenger raised its card up and flipped it around just so that the trapped Scrybe could watch the sunset with them. Well, that was…considerate of them.

The three sat in serene silence for a moment, simply sharing the peaceful joy of this moment.

“Hey!” Challenger piped up suddenly, gently setting the stoat card on the ground to rummage through their bag. “I still have that replica camera Leshy gave me! Why don’t we get a picture to remember this moment?”

“PICTURE!” The Lonely Wizard echoed, bolting upright again. There went that moment of peace and quiet…

“Sure, why not?” P03 muttered.

“Cool!” Challenger yanked out their camera from the tangle of other objects in their pack and squinted down at it, fiddling with the buttons. “I think there may be some kind of timed setting here…ah! There we go! Okay, let’s hurry!”

“OH! ALREADY?” Lonely scrambled after Challenger, who was busy positioning the camera on a nearby stone. They stepped backwards and gestured to the mage. “Here, stand by me. I’ve got P03. Everyone say cheese!”

Lonely immediately complied and bursted into a series of “CHEESECHEESECHEESECHEESE!”, while P03 scoffed. “I’m not saying cheese!”

Challenger held the card up to the camera and put on a smile, roping Lonely in with a hug. “Cheee— say it, P03!— eeeese!”

“…Fine. Cheese.”

Click!

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑇𝑟𝑦 𝑇𝑜 𝑆𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑒 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧 𝑀𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings: NSFW content including but not limited to exhibitionism, voyeurism, semi-public sex (don't try it irl), lactating kink, tittyfucking, etc. Aged up/Older Ateez but age differences are still within legal boundaries. Allusions to infidelity (which I do not condone or encourage)

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong couldn't keep the proud look off his face as he showed off a video of your son playing around on the piano while seated on his lap.

"I'm telling you, he's going to be a musical genius." He boasted to his closest friend, Seonghwa who watched in amazement.

"Mine so far just know how to make messes and keep their mommy and me awake at all hours of the night." Seonghwa chuckled as he gave a lighthearted pat on the bum to the woman right next to him.

"They? You already have two?" You couldn't believe it.

"What can I say? Maybe I'm just really...gifted." Seonghwa winked which had his significant other blushing intensely when he looked her way, the poor thing fanning her face before going to the kitchen to grab more water.

Seonghwa's words left you feeling curious about him and it was a night out for both of you to have fun. So why not have a little fun?

"You must really be packing a lot in there to be able to knock up a girl with 2 kids." You observed as you shamelessly looked at his crotch.

"Well if you ever get too curious I'd be happy to let you experience it firsthand." He looked at you smugly as his thumb cupped your chin.

It was rather dangerous to flirt like this with Hongjoong's best friend right in front of him, but part of you wanted to know what he'd do seeing you act like this, like how'd you'd flirt back in university. You always loved making Hongjoong jealous after all. Taking Seonghwa's hand, you brought his fingers to your lips.

"I'm curious. Very curious actually." You maintained eye contact as you took his fingers in your mouth and mimicked the tongue movements you'd often do on Hongjoong's cock.

Speaking of him, you were surprised as to why he hadn't said or done anything. Looking behind you, you realized he wasn't even there which confused you. Finally you spotted him on the couch and you dropped Seonghwa's fingers out of your mouth when you saw none other than his s/o on Hongjoong's lap.

"Hongjoong!" You angrily exclaimed yet he still had a grin on his face.

"What? I was merely trying to get closer to my friend's soon to be wife." He replied as the hands on her hips went to her ass.

Walking over to them, Seonghwa lifted his partner off the couch and promptly excused himself as he pulled her out of your apartment, no doubt to remind her of a few things. Meanwhile you stood there glaring at Hongjoong who looked unbothered.

"What? It's only ok for you to try and seduce other men?"

You huffed and were about to walk to your room but Hongjoong sat up and hugged you from behind.

"Calm down my little slut, I was only giving you a taste of your own medicine. And besides, you don't need another cock besides mine." He chuckled as he started to play with your pant's zipper.

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Coming back from the kitchen, you widened your eyes as you saw that Hongjoong's a significant other was still flaunting herself to him and he was going along with it.

"This little bitch." You muttered to yourself thinking that no one heard you but someone did.

"It's frustrating isn't it?" You heard Hongjoong say right next to your ear, lips ghosting over the lobe.

"I take it a cat fight is out of the question?" You asked him.

"Actually.... I have a better idea, if you're comfort enough to help me."

Seeing his smirk and wiggling eyebrows, you knew what he was referring to and you decided fuck it. You allowed him to walk you over to the couch but it was you who pushed him onto it before straddling his lap, the dress you were wearing rising up and nearly exposing your lace panties.

"Well you're certainly not a shy one are you?" Hongjoong mused, eyes unable to look away at your chest that was right in front of his face.

"Hey, sometimes a girl's gotta get dirty to get what she wants." You bit your lip as you took his hands and guided them to your hips. Leaning down, you pressed your forehead against his and swiped your tongue across his upper lip.

"Like stealing another woman's husband." You chuckled slyly.

Hongjoong wasn't planning on feeling this hot by your behavior, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't find you attractive. Obviously you were extremely attractive if you managed to steal Seonghwa away from his wife and Hongjoong could now see why.

"Hongjoong!" You both heard his girl shout.

"Took her long enough." You whispered in his ear, trying to contain your laughter after he not only said he was trying to get close to you but also when he squeezed your ass.

The next thing you felt was a pair of arms getting you off Hongjoong before a voice said:

"I'm sorry but we must be going now."

Seonghwa was fuming as he dragged you over into the car, his hand slamming the door loudly.

"Maybe now you'll think twice before letting someone else try to seduce you." You snorted.

"I wasn't actually gonna let her do anything." He told you, a hand rubbing his temples as he tried to calm down both his anger and embarrassment.

"Oh I know you weren't going to let anything happen baby."

Seonghwa's breath hitched when he saw your face stoop down and start to take him out of his pants. He groaned when you spat on his cock so you could begin pumping him.

"Whatever she had you fantasizing about while your fingers were in her mouth, I can fulfill it and even more."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

When Yunho said he wanted you to meet a few of his close friends, you began worrying that an event like what happened with his family would took place. But to your surprise it was nothing like that. And in fact you two weren't the only couple who had a large age difference between them, as his recently remarried friend Yeosang had a wife that was closer to your age so that comforted you.

No doubt Yunho intended for you to become friends with the lovely lady, but surprisingly you were bonding a lot more with Yeosang than anyone, and after a while it escalated to a little flirting.

"So is it true that Yunho bought your virginty?"

You nearly spat your drink out when he asked that, but you composed yourself and smiled as if nothing happened.

"Yeah and I honestly don't regret it." You responded.

"I don't think he regrets it either." He gestured over to Yunho who was happily chatting with some of the other guests.

"Did you also buy your now wife's virginity?" You figured it wouldn't be bad to ask him an embarrassing question now.

"No actually I didn't. I didn't have to. From the first moment, she wanted me like I wanted her and in the end, well...... she ended letting me corrupt her after a long game of cat and mouse." He had a fond look on his face as he began to recall all those memories.

"Well with that face I'd let you corrupt me for free." You wanted to slap your hand over your mouth when you accidentally said aloud what you thought in your head.

Yeosang quirked an eyebrow an amusement at your words.

"Oh really? You little innocent thing would let me corrupt you? Tell me, what if it had been me instead of Yunho that paid to have his way with you?" Yeosang was bold enough to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, his large veiny hands making you get wet as you imagined them undressing you.

"I'd let you fuck my pussy for free." You admitted as you began to lean into him.

Unbeknownst to you, Yunho had listened to the entire conversation and now he stepped in to pull you away from Yeosang. He looked beyond mad and you thought you fucked up for real. He dragged you into some lonely part of the park you were all gathered in and pressed you up against one of the trees. Before you could speak, his large frame trapped you as he started to pull your dress up.

"A long time ago, I paid for this little pussy of yours, isn't that right?" He harshly asked.

You nodded immediately before gasping when Yunho practically tore your panties off you, leaving your bottom half exposed for anyone walking by to see. You tried to pull your dress down, but were stopped by him.

"Don't even try it. Like I said, I paid for your pussy which means it's mine to show whenever I want....." You shuddered when he plunged two fingers in you.

"And fuck whenever I want. Just me, no one else. "

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

You weren't going to lie that you felt uneasy about Yunho's wife talking a little too friendly with Yeosang. Even though you tried to listen to what Yunho was saying, your eyes kept trailing back over to them, and you couldn't stop squinting your eyes at her.

"You can stop being on edge about my wife, she's not going to steal Yeosang away from you." Yunho assured you.

You looked back at him with a face that let him know he was stupid.

"Oh honey, you have no idea what a woman can be like. Don't be fooled by our innocent appearances." You warned him before looking back at Yeosang.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Judging by his tone, you knew Yunho felt offended that you meant anything remotely offensive towards his wife.

Wanting to lighten up the mood while simultaneously letting him understand your point of view, you fully turned your attention to him and smirked as you 'innocently' began adjusting his tie.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Yunho couldn't help the stammer in his voice when you came close to him.

"I'm just fixing this up for you." You answered, your voice sounding as smooth as honey.

"That's not necessary-" Yunho gulped when he tried to pull away only for you to suddenly pull him back in, your body now pressed to his, your breasts peeping out of your cleavage daring him not to stare.

"A woman may help a man tie his tie, fix his belt or..... adjust their collars simply to be nice."

Yunho stiffened and blushed red when you leaned in and whispered with a honey like voice in his ear:

"Or it's because we're trying to get you guys to fuck us."

You knew your plan worked when Yunho's eyes shot wide open and he excused himself to go stomp over to where his wife and Yeosang were. You patted yourself on the back especially when you made emphasis on the adjusting collars part, knowing that Yunho saw just as you did how his wife had adjusted Yeosang's collar before and he was not subtle about checking out her cleavage.

Your proud smile did not leave your face even when you saw Yeosang slowly approaching you. You knew he definitely saw how you were with Yunho and you were curious to see what'd he say. Humming softly, he went behind you so he could wrap his arms around your waist while his face buried itself on your neck.

"Mind telling me why you were so close with Yunho?"

Reaching a hand up to pat his hair, you answered:

"Simply teaching him a few lessons on how women seduce men."

Yeosang couldn't help but let out a soft laugh at your words. You giggled when you felt his lips press open mouth kisses along your neck.

"Yeah you're an expert in that category, aren't you?"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

"Umm...uh Y/N?" Mingi, San's friend spoke up.

"Yeah?" You wondered what was bothering him.

He seemed unsure whether to tell you or not, whatever it was that he was trying to say. Clearing his throat, he finally decided to spit it out.

"I think you spilled something on your shirt when you went to the kitchen and didn't notice."

You were confused as you didn't remember spilling anything on yourself. Looking down at your shirt, you laughed as you realized what it actually was.

"Oh! I didn't spill anything, that's just my boobs." You blurted out.

Mingi flushed pink as it clicked on his head what you meant.

"Oh...right. San had mentioned before that you lactated a lot but I didn't think-" He stopped himself before he went further.

"Didn't think?" You pressed him to continue.

"Didn't think it'd be that much." He confessed, eyes curiously eyeing the wet stains on your shirt.

Getting turned on by another man staring at your breasts, you reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off of you. Slowly, you began to pull your bra up as well, your breasts popping out with a bounce that had Mingi biting his lip. San came in to find you topless and with his friend admiring your tits and although he'd usually be very jealous, something about it made him get aroused.

"My wife's tits are so pretty aren't they Mingi?" He startled you both when he made his presence known.

"God yes." Mingi couldn't lie.

"Maybe you should taste them." San suggested as he reached for one of them and squeezed it so a bit of milk would come out of it.

Mingi hesitated but after San reassured him it was fine, the giant male latched his mouth onto one of your breasts, sucking on it fervently. If you thought it couldn't get any better, soon San joined in, taking a hold of your other breast and taking it into his mouth. You threw your head back and moaned loudly as both men sucked on your breasts, your hands cupping the back of their heads to push them further into your chest.

"Just watch Mingi, she can literally cum untouched by just having us breastfeed from her." San chuckled in between his suckling.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

"I should cut off your balls." You threatened Mingi as he confessed to you what had transpired the day before at San's house.

"Honey please don't do that. At least you heard it from me, doesn't that count for something?" He pouted at you as he tried to hug you.

"Yeah it counts for getting it sliced off in one whole strike instead of piece by piece." You grunted as you evaded his embrace.

"Ok, what's it going to take for you to forgive me? Ask for anything. If you even wanna withhold kinky times from me, I won't even blame you."

You actually thought long and hard about how to get back at Mingi. Just what could possibly make you get even with him after he confessed to sucking on his friend's wife's tits? The light bulb went off in your head at once.

"Can you ask your friend San to come over?"

Although he was confused by your request, he nonetheless did as you asked and called him over. San was just as confused, but he figured he was probably there to help his friend out and apologize for what happened and take responsibility. But what he was not expecting was for you to throw yourself on him and start seducing him right in front of Mingi, who was equally shocked.

"You got to have your fun with his wife yesterday right? I think it's only fair he gets to have fun with your wife, don't you think Mingi?" You smirked over at him.

San was hissing and grunting as he layed on your bed, watching intently as his cock was buried deep in between your boobs. Every time his head popped out, you made sure to stick your tongue out to further stimulate him.

"You seem to have a thing for breasts Sannie." You teased as you began to fuck him between your boobs even faster.

"Oh fuck!" San cried out as he tried to keep himself from cumming.

"Mingi also likes a good tittyfuck every now and then, but he's more of an ass man above all."

You looked over at Mingi, who sat quietly on a chair in front of you both, watching it all go down with a tent in his pants.

"Mingi come fuck my ass." You suddenly told him.

"Are you serious?" Mingi widened his eyes.

"I just got done saying how you're an ass man and I'm feeling empty. Now are you going to stay sitting down or are you going to join in?"

In minutes, Mingi had gotten up and had stripped himself off his clothes, and now he was positioning himself right behind you, cock twitching at fucking your ass while your breasts fucked his friend.

"You really are a kinky little lady."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Wait, you met Y/N where?"

Wooyoung wasn't surprised to hear the disbelief in Jongho's voice as they shared stories about how they met their current significant others.

"In the strip club I frequented. She was one of the dancers there." He repeated himself.

"What? Did she drop her panties onstage and you immediately bought a ring?" Jongho teased him.

"One, we're not married...yet. And two, I actually had to get her alone to be able to see her with no clothes on. And fuck when I did, I decided to snatch her away before anyone else got a chance to." He admitted.

"Was she that enticing to you?" Jongho questioned him.

"Trust me, she's the type of woman who can dance her way into a man's heart. Or pants." Wooyoung boldly stated.

"I doubt she could dance into mine." Jongho firmly said.

"Oh really? You think so? Wanna bet on it?"

Wooyoung didn't hesitate to pick up his phone and call you right away. Hearing his mischievous tone, you knew he was up to something. When he asked you to come over to his office in one of your old costumes from your exotic dancer days, you got a hint as to what it could be and it excited you to think about it.

You came into his office, thinking he wanted a private show but you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw that he wasn't alone. You looked at Wooyoung, asking for an explanation.

"Baby I hope you don't mind but.... I wanted you to put on a little show for my dear old friend here." Wooyoung shifted in his seat.

You were about to scold Wooyoung for even thinking of such an idea, but Jongho spoke up first.

"She can try all she wants, but I doubt she'll be effective in seducing me."

You scoffed at the man's words and at that moment you wanted nothing than to wipe that smug look off his face. Setting your phone on the desk and pressing play, you walked right in front of Jongho and let the long trench coat fall of your body, revealing the glittery lingerie you were hiding. Although Jongho tried to remain stoic, you could see that the corners of his lip twitched slightly when you began to dance.

You felt proud of yourself when it seemed you were finally getting him to break as you rolled your body on top of him, your hips mere inches from actually grinding down on his crotch.

"Can I touch her?" Jongho finally blurted out, nails clawing the couch underneath him.

Wooyoung and you both exchanged a triumphant look when he asked that.

"Only if you admit I won the bet, then I'll even let you fuck her."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

"Are we really doing this right here?" You giggled as Jongho continued to mark kisses across your neck as he pushed you onto the desk behind you.

"Can't help it. I just really wanted you now." He winked when he came back up to cup your face and hungrily kiss your lips.

You found it odd that Jongho was suddenly getting frisky with you while at work. He'd never ever approve of you two risking getting caught doing something inappropriate during work hours. But you figured it was because back then you two were a secret and now almost everyone knew you two were married. So you just didn't think too much of it and instead enjoyed as his strong hands gripped your thighs and spread them apart so he could fit himself in between your legs.

Just as you two were getting lost in each other, the door opened and someone came in.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" A man whom you had never met before asked as he seemed embarrassed about walking in on you two.

"Oh, not at all Wooyoung. In fact I was expecting you right at this time, after all, I did call you here."

Jongho looked so unfazed about having his friend walk in, in fact, he looked almost too happy about getting caught like that, it was so unlike him. Just as you slid off the desk and began adjusting yourself, Jongho stopped you.

"Wooyoung? Remember the other night? When you let your little exotic dancer give me a lap dance?"

You widened your eyes when he said that, hearing that for the first time.

"Among other things." Wooyoung nodded.

Taking your hand, Jongho slowly walked you over to where Wooyoung was seated.

"Well.... I think it's time you let me return the favor."

Before you could even guess what was happening, Jongho sat you on Wooyoung's lap, your back pressed against his chest.

"I left her wet and bothered so I think she'd really appreciate it if you helped her out." Jongho winked at you before stepping back to his desk to get a better view.

You whimpered when you felt Wooyoung's hands slide up your shirt to cup your breasts.

"Are you ok with this babygirl?" He asked you.

Having Jongho watching you intently and being left needy by him, you didn't hesitate to let his friend know that you were more than ok with him touching you, which delighted him and Jongho as well.

"Don't hold back on her, she likes it rough."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[ptergwen]

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

-

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money. 

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

-

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

-

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

-

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

[lovesickitalian]

Could I request Yandere Nyo!Ukraine basic headcanons?

(C/W:) general Yandere themes, since he’s rather tame... oh, and choking.

Someone like Dmitri? A yandere? You wouldn’t be able to see it coming. To many who meet him, Dmitri is mostly just a warm-hearted man with motherl- fatherly instincts. There’s also the fact that he is usually a very cowardly person, being prone to tears at even the smallest of inconveniences.

So of course, taking these factors into account; absolutely no one would even suspect this man of having a more...dangerous side within him. Rather, most could see him being the victim of someone’s obsession instead.

But yanderes are almost always the more unsuspecting ones, aren’t they? Those that seem like they wouldn’t even hurt a fly because of how much of a sweetheart they are; but wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of hurting someone if you managed to push the right buttons.

That just made their jobs easier, didn’t they?

— meeting you.

It all started with you strolling through an Ukrainian countryside, taking in the beautiful scenery that you got while standing in a specific spot under a tree, the cool air blowing against your skin.

You didn’t know how you found yourself to be here...previously having gone through the woods to try and find your friend’s cabin, but embarrassingly getting lost after chasing a cute squirrel; but you didn’t really regret it right now. Having found this breath-taking view, and coming across this calming field that would eventually become the place where you first met Dmitri at.

Said man had just finished planting the last few of his seeds, and was about to go back to his house before stopping, his eyes laying themselves upon your breath taking body.

You looked absolutely divine.

He didn’t know what to say— nor to do, so all he could do was simply stare at you for god knows how long before you turned back, spotting the dazed man and waving at him

Oh no! Oh god! You had noticed him!

Dmitri would nervously wave back, probably too fast than what was considered normal; and so his face flushed in embarrassment before he nervously tucked his arm away. You smiled, either due to amusement or...something else that he wasn’t able to tell, before you started walking over to him!

You introduced yourself, giving the man a greeting and even reaching to shake his hand! It took a minute or two before he got out of his trace, quickly introducing himself and shaking your hand more firmly than intended, gaining a chuckle from you.

— feelings.

During your first meeting, you had chatted quite a bit and asked him if you were able to come meet him again, quickly gaining an enthusiastic Dmitri shaking his head ‘yes’ while almost jumping in his spot due to happiness. He got to meet you again! You actually wanted to be with him! He felt beyond happy, receiving the opportunity to see the beautiful person that has taken his heart again.

Yes, you heard (or read?) it right. Dmitri was sure he had fallen in love with you! You were simply so divine, so cute! He was sure it was love at first sight, and the man assumed that you felt the same way towards him.

And you truly did. He was just so sweet, polite and had a huge heart! Perhaps a bit of a cry-baby too, but that was adorable to see in such a big man that almost seemed a bit intimidating at first sight. It was cute how he always seemed to be worried about you, especially since your meeting was...basically caused by you getting lost in a forest. Almost at night.

You were lucky that he was there to take you back to his home.

Dmitri was almost like fatherly- no scratch that- fatherly figure to you, preparing food for you every time you came over, taking care of the things that were too difficult for you and always fretting about whether or not you were taking care of yourself well.

It was a pleasure to have you over. He did have a lot of acquaintances due to being a country, though was never really visited due to others either forgetting about him, or being too busy doing their own stuff. Which he understood...but it became lonely in here.

— stalking.

Ukraine isn’t much of a stalker, since he much prefers actually being around you but he does like to keep some of your belongings often without your consent. He actually has a whole drawer dedicated to things that belong to you— which is safely locked in his room, only for himself too.

Most of these include clothes, and smaller items that you normally wouldn’t notice being gone at first glance; pens, merchandise from your favorite series, perhaps even a shirt or two. Dmitri might even snatch more...inappropriate things, if he gets the chance to.

Coughes— personal items such as bras, panties and questionable CDs/magazines you might own, or some other...interesting stuff. He knows that you’ll never suspect him; seeing that he usually expresses himself to be the more innocent type, while being very far from it. You’ll be too embarrassed to ask him about it, and would merely brush it off as you losing it somewhere in your home.

He would make sure to treat them with great care! And by that he means basically worshiping your items everyday, holding them close to his chest and whispering his admirations towards you. His fingers gently tracing over the object while doing so.

As stated before...Ukraine isn’t much of a stalker, so he just makes sure to observe you intensely while you talk with someone else in his presence. He’ll make himself discreet, and you’ll probably think that he’s still doing something else instead of digging holes with the stranger you were talking to.

Making a move on you is a big no-no, so the Ukrainian will make sure to make up a quick excuse as to why the two of you have to go if they even dare to hit on you- or say something else inappropriate, and cuts off the conversation while walking away with you in his hands. Apologizing to the person while doing so.

"Oh...(y/n), I want to go check something really quick, can you come with me?"

— killing for his darling?

No, nope, немає.

It wasn’t that Dmitri...didn’t want to, lord, he would do anything for his darling if it meant protecting them from something that may harm their relationship, it was just that— he hated the sight of blood and corpses in general. It made him nauseous, and reminded him of everything he and his siblings had to endure in their younger years.

Dmitri hated himself for it. Dmitri hated himself for how cowardly he was.

He used to be a rather violent man as a child, having to protect his family and himself from the many, many dangers that were thrown at them when they were no more than small, clueless countries. So why couldn’t he do it now? What was stopping him? Why did he change?

The only way I could truly see him potentially killing someone is if they were to harm you, or even if they managed to gain your heart instead of himself. He wouldn’t know what came over him— his body would move by itself, and the next thing he knew his hands were tightly wrapped around their neck...the person limp, and not reacting.

Dmitri wouldn’t know what to do, he wouldn’t know how he even did it in the first place— thus, will most likely end up calling his youngest brother for help. Nikolai was used to things like this, right? So he could help, right?

So do refrain from telling him anyone you might be interested in. It might...not really end well.

— kidnapping?

Dmitri didn’t plan on kidnapping you at all... he first wanted to make sure that your relationship with him grew a bit, and that perhaps you would accept being with him forever! But after the events from before, Nikolai insisted on helping his brother. Thus, ended up coming back home one day with an unconscious you in his arms, your limbs bound together by rope and fabric covering your mouth.

Needles to say, seeing that had basically traumatized Dmitri— and he nearly fainted. The Ukrainian was partially grateful, yes, but this wasn’t how he wanted it to go. And who knew what Nikolai could have said or done to you?!

It would take some time for him to fully recover from the shock. Seeing you in that state upset him a lot, and he hated having to chain you up in his room... but his younger sibling insisted on doing it; saying that you would try to escape, or could potentially harm them if they were caught off guard.

But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you?

Dmitri would make sure to treat you with the upmost care during your stay. Giving you three meals a day, making sure you were well rested and clean, etcetera etcetera.It would be hard to start hating him even though he was basically holding you captive. He treated you with such care, that it almost felt like he was scared of breaking you if he did things too roughly. Which may very well be true.

He hates it whenever you ask him to go back home. It breaks his heart, knowing how much you want to get away. Was it something he did? Perhaps you didn’t like him anymore? Didn’t you want to be with him anymore? All these overlapping thoughts would most likely cause a nervous breakdown. He would cling onto you while tearfully sobbing about how much he loves you, and how much he cares about you and how much he worries about you potentially ally getting hurt without him being by your side. You would probably the only one who would manage to calm him down, if that were to happen.

— punishments?

Surprise surprise, his punishments are awfully motherly as well.

It almost felt like he was an actual parent...

Dmitri wasn’t fond of punishing you, but if you were going against him then what else was there to do? He had to discipline you in some way, since it would be rather unpleasant if you kept this up. It was a bit like tough love, wasn’t it?

Spanking would be one of his most used, and frankly his favorite— punishment to use. He chooses this when you disobey him and act like a child. (if you were going to act like one then he was going to treat you as such, he usually says.) this may lead to sex, depending on his mood.

Locking you up. Dmitri doesn’t like using this one as much...he hates being apart from you, and he could only imagine how much you’d miss him! But it was for the better. He prefers this method when you try escaping.

— nsfw.

Dmitri would preferably like to marry you before engaging in any sexual intercourse. However, there might be these moments where he would snap (like he did when killing someone) and simply wouldn’t care anymore, taking you right then and there without a care in the world. He can get a bit rough, so don’t be surprised when you can’t walk for the next few da—

Spanking. He loves seeing the cute reactions you make once receiving the impact on your body. The cute whines, the way your hips would twitch and how red your rear would get. He loved it all.

Daddy kink. He’s rather embarrassed by this one...but he can’t deny the fact that you calling him ‘daddy’ always manages to make him feel warm inside; uncaring if it’s meant to be sexual, or not.

Breeding kink. Is this one actually a surprise? Dmitri would absolutely want to have a family with you, no matter how much he’d have to wait for it.

Cream pie. Mostly due to my previous statement, and the fact that he just loves to so you filled with his love...

After care. This is an absolute REQUIREMENT after having sex with you. He will pamper you with love and kisses, giving water and pain meds if needed too. Dmitri will spoon you in his arms and make sure that you trust him and feel safe enough around him.

— overal,

Dmitri can be an okay yandere...if you watch what you’re doing, and play your cards right. Please don’t upset him too much, and make sure not to anger one of his siblings— since that might very well cause even more problems for you.

[damonsvftie]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜✨

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

MEGA MASTERLIST

Summary: it’s that time of the year where everyone has been pulled under the mistletoe but what happens when your the only one who hasn’t?

Note: h2gkmo I love this Sm also it’s 3.8K WORDS

Warnings: none I believe apart from kissing

September, October and November, has already flew by so quickly as if it were a blur and I can’t seem to comprehend that its currently December.

Not that I dislike this certain month but it’s just the whole ‘mistletoe’ thing that I’m not quite fond of. Last week, some boy from Slytherin managed to get a girl he liked from Hufflepuff under the mistletoe, and let’s just say, the tension was absolutely incredulous.

Being a Hufflepuff, she kindly made up an excuse and hurried out of the the great hall. If that were me, I would probably shove my plate full of food down their pants. I mean the audacity though?

It’s that time of year again where Hogwarts is practically covered in a blanket of snow and every single student walks down the corridor with a soft knitted sweater hugging their bodies tightly to stop them from catching a cold. Well mostly everyone, since Malfoy wears very extra stuff during this season.

The last day, I saw Harry snogging Cho Chang under the plant. Okay maybe it wasn’t snogging, but they still kissed! And Hermione had told me all about some oaf from RavenClaw who tried to do the same to her but it didn’t really work out since she smacked him across the face with a heavy book.

—

“I’m so glad no ones tried that on me yet,” I mumbled le as I tucked into a plate full of food.”it’s absolutely ridiculous! I mean the audacity they have to think I’d want to kiss them. I have to puke,” complained Hermione, her facing saying it all. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ron Weasley gulping hard as he tugged at his collar. “You know.. sometimes both of you are very scary,” making me roll my eyes at him.

“It’s not even that bad, it’s just a kiss,”. The way Harry blatantly blurted that out as if it’s the tiniest thing in the world while he drummed his fingers on the table. “You can’t chat! I saw you snogging Cho Chang a day ago,” I argued. Harry’s cheeks were beginning to flush a shade of crimson as he swiftly diverted the attention onto me again.

“And? At least it was Cho and not someone like Pansy Parkinson, besides even Lavenders after Ron,” he mumbled looking annoyed. “Bloody hell I almost forgot! She can’t seem to stay away from me. She’s like a leech,” he complained, his lips curving into a frown.

Hermione shut her book and put it down. “Y/n, hasn’t anyone tried to get you under the mistletoe yet?” Her lips curving into a small smile, preventing me from shoving a forkful of food down my throat, my hand in mid air. “Uh- no,” my cheeks slightly blushed in embarrassment . For some reason my response made Ron giggle to himself.

Irritated, I smacked him behind his head causing him to yelp. “Ow! What was that for?” His brows furrowing as he rubbed the spot I had hit him in. “You dare laugh at me Ronald Weasley and I won’t hesitate to curse you!”

“Both of you please! I’m trying to finish this book off,” Hermione’s facial expressions exasperate as her eyes bore deep into our souls, intimidating us until we both shut up. Huffing under my breathe I continued to pick at my food until someone spoke once again.

“Hey! Give me my book back!”. To my surprise, Draco Malfoy stood towering over Hermione, his book in her hands as he held it high. Her attempts to try and grab it back were failing as she jumped high on the spot. “Malfoy give her book back,” spoke Harry through gritted teeth. “How about no? Besides Potter, this is between me and her so stay out of it,” he sneered.

“Come on Malfoy, stop being such a git,” defended Ron. Whatever the boys had said didn’t really matter to him because of course it went through one ear and out the other. “Oi! Give. Her. Book. Back,” my nostrils flaring as I folded my arms against my chest.

Unexpectedly, he started making owl noises just like the day he was attacked by Buckbeak, slowly striding towards me as his eyes darted up and down at my figure, supposedly ‘checking me out’. “why... what are you going to do y/l/n?” His face inches away from mine. I felt his cool,minty breathe fanning against my face causing my eyes to flutter rapidly in intimidation. Everyone in the great hall had fixed their attention onto the commotion we were causing, making owl noises every time one of us firedback. “Gone silent now have you?” The tone in his voice mocking as he took a step back and swiftly turned on his heels.

I don’t know what I was thinking, but I pulled him back towards me, one of my hands cupping his face as my lips pressed against his instantly. My other hand, smoothly grabbed the book out of his palms, shoving him back once I got what I wanted. “You were saying?” My voice sarcastic as he stared at me, mouth hung slightly open In awe.

Tossing the book back to Hermione, we all sat back down, the golden trio gasping under their breaths. “Did you just KISS Malfoy?” Rons voice exaggerated as his eyes shot wide open. “Yes- Yes I did,”

—

As we walked the hogwarts grounds, Harry and Ron didn’t stop annoying me about Draco. “So let me get this right, you kissed Malfoy to get mione’s book back? Blimey you have some guts don’t you?” A giggle trailed behind his irrelevant question.

I was down right agitated. I paused in the middle of no where, my lips pursing into a line. “I don’t know why both of you think it’s so funny and or hard to believe I kissed him? It’s not like I like him or something!” My voice slightly laced with anger as I strided off into the other direction, ditching the trio.

I could heard Hermione calling after me but it was too late. I was gone. If I were being realistic, I didn’t know where I was headed to as I entered hogwarts, twisting and turning through the dingy,dark corridors until I bumped into something rock hard, resulting in me too lose my balance and collapse.

“Look where your going,” I groaned as I sat up on the cold floor. “You bumped into me, not the other way round,”. It couldn’t be. I recognised that same bitter and unpleasant voice. My eyes trailed up to the figure that looked upon me from down below as I whimpered underneath him in pain.

It was Malfoy.

He stuck his hand out in offer for me too take it but of course I didn’t. Pushing his hand out of the way, I scrambled to my feet my teeth gritting. “Why are you ALWAYS in my way?!” I yelled, although I was lucky enough that the corridors were deserted.

“Me in your way? YOUR the one who keeps getting in MY way! Don’t get too ahead of your self y/l/n!” He firedback immediately, his face scrunched up.

My hands found their way to his collar, fisting at the material, pulling him close until our noses were almost touching. “Listen here Malfoy, stay. Out. Of. My. Way,” I protested my breathing heavy.

His serious face turned looser as a small smirk spread across his face. His hands travelled up my visage, his thumb lightly grazing my lip, tugging it down, the flesh of my lips revealing.

What was he doing?

My breathing hitched, while my heart did a flip in my chest. My grip on his collar slackened as my hands fell by my side before I walked right past him.

—

I should have known better. The more I added fuel to his fire, the more frustrating he was going to become. It was slowly starting to become a very common thing for the two of us to have an argument with each other, while everyone just rolled their eyes at us, since it was starting to get out of hand and become a regular thing.

Something inside me told me that he thoroughly enjoyed bickering with me even when I had at least tried to be civil with him.

“I just wanted say.. maybe we should be civil,” my words sincere as a half grin crept up across his face. “You want US to be civil? Why.. you think I’m going to stop?” He taunted as his smile dropped, his face serious than ever. “Yes- you know why? Because I’m mature unlike you. If I’m honest I don’t understand what pleasure you find in fighting me all the time,” my eyes turning a darker shade as I clenched my fists by my side.

His facial features turned soft almost as if it were putty as I finished my sentence with a sigh. His body instantly loosened up as he took a few steps away from me. “Your right. I’ll leave you alone-“ he muttered before disappearing in the dark.

Was I seeing things or did Draco actually agree with me for once? Was he actually going to put an end to his daily dose of torture?

—

“Did he actually offer to stop and leave you alone?” The confused looks on their faces. “Yep... but it’s quite unbelievable,” the look on my face twisting the more I thought about it. “Wait Wait Wait! Let me get this right... Malfoy’s going to leave you alone for the rest of your life? Bloody hell thats fabulous!” Ron’s lips transitioning into a wide grin as he took a sip out of his cup.

“Why are you so happy? He said he’d leave ME alone not YOU,” I answered back , trying to put Ron off, making his face droop. Within seconds I decided to change the topic so I didn’t have to fight Weasley.

“Anyways- So- hows your defence against the dark arts thing going?” I questioned Harry as he swallowed his food. “Well- we haven’t come up with a proper name for it but we think it should be named ‘Dumbledores army’ and I guess it’s going alright,” he sighed right after causing me to raise a brow. “Somethings off- what’s wrong Harry?” My voice gentle as I glanced at the other two.

“Harry’s worried someone’s going to bail out on us to Umbridge,” the fearful expression on hermiones face explaining it all. Did I mention that Dolores Umbridge was claimed to be the headmistress of the school? We were all lucky enough that she hadn’t created any sort of ridiculous rule in which we were no longer able to talk to our friends.

Everyone apart from a bunch of slytherins, who were named the ‘inquisitorial squad’, including that evil little cockroach Malfoy, loathed her. The trio had managed to gain access to the room of requirements in which they all hosted sessions where they practised spells such as how to unleash a patronus charm.

“Y/n why don’t you join? The more the merrier besides we need to prepare incase anything happens,” the tone in hermiones voice soft. “Guys.. I don’t know.. what if you know.. Umbridge finds out?” I asked wearily, fingers drumming the table.

Disappointment smeared across their faces. I couldn’t disappointment my friends like that. “You know what? Fine, I’m in!” I blurted as their mundane facial expressions changed into goofy smiles and wrinkled eyes.

—

“Expecto Patronum!” The tip of my wand unleashed a faint sort of white vapour which slowly transitioned into a p/n. “Blood hell y/n! You got that right on the first try,” remarked Ron as he stared up at my patronus in awe.

Suddenly, the chandelier started to swing and the floor beneath us was shaking under our feet. Everyone huddled together as it stopped. Then another loud bang came from the door as it crumbled, leaving a tiny cracked hole in which we heard Umbridges voice.

With one last swish and flick of her wand, she blasted down the door completely, walking in infuriated with the inquisitorial squad following behind her. Draco Malfoy stood on the side, his hand gripping Cho Chang’s arm tightly as she hung her head in shame. She had betrayed us.

My eyes met Malfoy’s as I lowered my wand. Each member of the squad practically forced us all the way into umbridges office however Malfoy shoved Cho to the side and came headed in my direction. “Do as I say,” he muttered under his breathe, his hand gripping my wrist causing me too flinch.

“What- What are you doing?” I whispered frantically. “Don’t question me y/l/n,” he replied, his lips barley moving as Umbridge yelled at us all.

One by one, each army member was escorted by a slytherin however Malfoy waited for everyone to leave. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he mumbled, peering out the door making sure the coast was clear. His hand slowly slid down my wrist, intertwining his fingers with mine.

I didn’t dare speak of it, besides I felt safe with him for some reason as if I were able to trust him. Quickly, we ran down the corridors hand in hand making sure no one spot us. “Wait stop,” I panted as i breathed heavily, leaning against the wall. He stopped for a moment, his hand on his hip as he patiently waited for me too regain enough energy to walk back to my dorm. “Let me walk you back to your dorm,” he insisted.

—

“Goodnight,” he mumbled before turning to walk away. “Draco Wait-,” I called for him reluctantly as i leaned against the door of my dorm room. He turned to face me once again, one of his brows raised in confusion. “Why did you help me? I mean you could have just turned me in like the others,” I questioned hesitantly. He seemed to have straightened his posture as he looked down at the floor before glancing at my visage. “Don’t question it y/l/n,”

—

“What? That’s not possible.. how did Malfoy not turn you in?” Harry exclaimed, his face distorted as he gave the type of look when something was brutally unfair. “I bet he likes you, I remember when he came back and made up an excuse about his whereabouts,” chimed Hermione plainly as she stuck her nose into her book, causing me too flush red.

Running towards us was Fred and George Weasley as they explained what Umbridge was currently doing. “You lot might want to check this out,” their voices weary as they glanced one another. Within seconds we all made our way outside the great hall where the rock solid walls were covered with every stupid law she’d had every created. A new one of her ridiculous educational Decrees was being hung by Filch as he tried balancing on the highest step of the ladder.

My eyes trailed from above all the way down, now examining Draco’s face as he looked up, a smirk painted across his face, after all he was part of Umbridge’s clan. I don’t know why but he looked immensely alluring and it really bothered me. Why did he look so perfect? I didn’t like him did I? No of course I didn’t What type of dumb question was that?

—

Tonight me and the army decided to sneak out after curfew and meet up in the Gryffindor common room. I slipped on my robe as I softly shut the door behind me, trying to make sure it didn’t creak. I tiptoed down the corridors because we were all aware that the inquisitorial squad members were lurking around, keeping an eye on us. I couldn’t risk using a lumos spell because I knew that if I did someone might see the light at the tip of my wand easily so I attempted to guide myself in the dark, sticking my hand out incase I bumped into anything.

Unexpectedly, I tripped over my own feet causing me to fall frontwards, straight into somebody’s arms, my hands flung around their neck, clinging onto them for dear life. We stayed like that for a good few seconds, my breathing hitching as my chin laid propped up on the mystery persons shoulder.

Pulling away from me the person chanted a ‘lumos’ spell, holding their wand between our faces. “Draco?” I shrieked, my face distorted since I knew I had been caught. “What are you doing after curfew?” He interrogated. “Nothing I Uh- I was trying to sneak out to get some fresh air,” I lied, the tone in my voice making me sound sheepish. “Don’t lie to me y/l/n you were going to another one of those meetings, weren’t you?” He snarled, his grip on his wand becoming tighter. “Uh.. okay fine! I am, but please don’t tell on me I beg you,” I pleaded my lips curving into a frown.

His facial expressions changed and became softer than ever, his irresistible,grey eyes glimmering from the tiny source of light as he parted his plump lips to say something. “Go,” he whispered lowly. “Thanks Draco,” I muttered. For some reason my feet were glued too the floor as if they weren’t willing to move. I had the sudden urge to kiss him but I held back until he himself leaned a little closer, his lip ghosting mine before I took steps backwards and disappeared into the darkness.

Was I developing some sort of feelings for him? All he did was save me from landing into trouble twice and actually leave me alone for once. Did he feel the same way?

I had to at least thank him for how humble he was being over the past month so that same week I went to Hogsmeade and bought him a ring with a snake wrapped around it. After all his help, this was the least I could do to repay him.

It was Christmas Eve today and I told one of the sweet slytherins (who I knew was trustworthy) to go and put this perfectly tiny box wrapped up in black paper under the tree in the Slytherin common room.

—

Today was Christmas Day and I ran down the stairs to my common room early in the morning to open up my gifts. Harry hurled me a handful of presents as I struggled to carry them all. “Merry Christmas y/n!” They sung in unison as I started to unwrap them all. Ron had given me a perfectly knitted sweater with the first letter of my name on it. Hermione had bought me a stack of muggle books that had very interesting covers and Harry had bought me a box of assorted sweets from honey dukes because he knew I had a sweet tooth.

“Thanks guys I really appreciate it,” I gave them a warm smile. “Y/n I uh- there’s another gift addressed to you,” Ron fiddled with the present in his hand, taking a close look at it. “It’s not addressed from anyone though,”. He tossed me the dark green wrapped gift as I glanced at them unsure. My hands began unraveling the box taking a peek on the inside. To my surprise, there was a immaculately beautiful necklace with a dark green gem in a pendant. Holding the necklace between my fingers I gave a glance at it before putting it around my neck, trying not to overthink it.

—

“I wonder who gave you that?” Questioned Ginny as she squinted her eyes. Walking into the great hall was a certain blonde haired boy with his annoying group of posse following behind him like a bunch of lost puppies. He looked incredibly charming as he wore a dark green sweater with a black scarf wrapped around his neck as he tugged at it too loosen it a bit. I could just about see the ring that he wore around his finger.

Something about the way he accepted my gift made me smile to myself. “Bloody hell y/n are you blushing?” Joked Ron as I pursed my lips. “Totally not,” i responded as I bit the inside flesh of my cheek too stop myself from grinning.

From across the hall my eyes met his and I felt a unknown spark run through my body. A toothy smile crawled across his face causing me too smile back at him. Oh god I thought to myself, I couldn’t do this. I hid my face in my hands embarrassed as my friends laughed at me. “Y/n are you sure you don’t like Malfoy?” Teased Fred Weasley. “Yep it’s confirmed she does,” added George. “No I don’t,” I mumbled as my voice was muffled by my hands.

“If you’ll excuse me I have somewhere to go,” I muttered before leaving the table in embarrassment. I could see Blaise Zabini and Goyle patting Draco on the back in what seemed like encouragement as he got up. Was he going to follow me?

I strided down the corridors when I saw him calling after me. I swung my head around as I continued walking and he disappeared. Walking backwards, I tried looking for him when something bumped into me from the front. “Where do you think your going?”. I recognised that same tune that use to annoy the hell out of me.

“Draco? Where did you come from? You were right behind me,” I asked curious, trying to change the subject. “Took a shorter route,” he explained. The gap between the two of us was at the point of closing.

“You uh- wore the necklace I gave you,” his cheeks flushing slightly as his rough demeanour vanished. “You were the one who gave this? Why?” My voice cracking at the end. “And you gave me this ring- why?”. He was trying to use my own words against me as I giggled to myself. “It’s more of a thank you gift than you know-,” I elaborated as I crossed my arms.

“So why did you gift me this necklace?” The curiosity in my voice making him pause for a good second. “Let me guess.. don’t question it? That’s what your going to say right?” I giggled to myself. His face slowly dropped his lips parting as he looked above the two of us. “The mistletoe,” he choked. Above our heads, was a magically growing mistletoe that rained glitter.

He scratched the back of his head as i hung my head. “You don’t have too if you don’t want-,” I quickly cut him off by placing my lips against his, savouring the sweet flavour. Initially he was shocked, his eyes wide open until his lips moved in sync with mine, his eyes fluttering closed as he cupped my visage, my body flushed against his.

Pulling away, his eyes fluttered back open, his thumb drawing circles on my cheek as he pulled me back in one last time,his plump lips on mine before pulling back making me admire his enticing face. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered as my hands wrapped around his neck pulling him in for the tightest hug ever.

—

Taglist: @summer-writes @gryffindors-prefect @harry-pottery-barn @adderallanimal @voldygonemoldy @reemusluupin @chaotic-fae-queen if you want to be added or removed lemme know

[heytherejulietx]

Gold - Bughead

@riverdalepromptathon week 10

Masterlists

Read on AO3 here!

Requests are OPEN!

Prompts;

Daydreaming.

Gold.

Notes - ten weeks in and this is my first time taking part in the promptathon… oops. i’m glad i started though because this fic was so fun to write and i love it so much. though i swear i’ve got like three fics that end the same way this does. oh well, i still like it. enjoy. :)

Warnings - N/A.

Word count - 1.7k.

Riverdale tag list - @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @kpopgirlbtssvt @booksmusicteaandanimals @cheryllclayton @jesso80 @dietbreadloaf @thebluetint @lilireinhartsimp @camiczzzz @bitchy-broken @crazyninjalight @literarygetaway21 @bc-jh22

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A hand in hers. Lips pressed to her hair. A cold golden band slipping over her ring finger. The thoughts swirled around in her barely-coherent mind as Betty attempted to wake up. Her eyelids fluttered underneath the gentle sunlight that peeked through the curtains to lay across her face and she had to turn her head to the left to get the light off of her eyelids. With a quiet yawn and a stretch of her arms she blinked her eyes open with a gentle smile when she saw her snoozing boyfriend buried underneath their light copper - almost gold - bedsheets beside her.

Betty propped herself up against the headboard and sighed, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms for a moment. The memory (or was it her imagination?) of the golden ring made her look down at her hand, though no ring could be seen. She closed her eyes and let her head lean back against the headboard behind her. Had she been dreaming that Jughead had proposed to her?

Just the thought of him proposing made her smile warmly to herself. Betty and Jughead had been together for a good few years again after their high school sweethearts phase had ended for seven years. They had their own house, they had a cat, they both had stable jobs and things to do; far from old worries of serial killers and cults and aliens. They were finally living normal lives. Or, as normal as it could get for them.

The icing on the cake would be to get married to Jughead. It would be the perfect addition to their lives. Of course, eventually Betty also wanted children, though she knew how Jughead felt about that topic. After everything with his dad, he needed to be one-hundred percent ready before he could even think of going through with that next step in their lives, and Betty completely understood that. They had their whole lives ahead of them for that.

Jughead shifted in his sleep beside her and she opened her eyes to look at him with a soft smile. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. There was a time in their lives when the only peace either of them could get was when they were asleep in each other’s arms, and Betty was glad that they didn’t have to live like that anymore. No worry of serial killers or solving murders or devastating breakups. Just them. And their cat, of course.

Almost as if Toffee knew that Betty was thinking of her, a meow could be heard beside the bed before the fluffy creature jumped up onto the bed with Betty, meowing as she climbed into her lap.

“Good morning,” Betty mumbled with a soft smile as she scratched the back of Toffee’s neck, leaning her head down enough to allow the fluffy white cat to nudge the end of her nose with it’s own. With a fond smile towards the creature she ran her hand down her back and stopped at her tail, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Want some breakfast?”

At the mention of food Toffee meowed again and Betty smiled, waiting for Toffee to jump off of the bed so she could get up too. Shuffling into her slippers she slipped on one of Jughead’s shirts before she followed a meowing Toffee out of the bedroom, letting Jughead sleep for a little longer.

Toffee zigzagged between Betty’s legs on the way to the kitchen, meowing loudly on the way. Managing not to trip over her cat by the time she got there Betty reached up towards one of the cabinets in the kitchen and pulled out a tin of wet food, scrunching her nose up in disgust at the smell as she emptied it into Toffee’s bowl before she sat it back on the floor.

With her cat now eating happily Betty moved around the kitchen, gathering what she would need to make scrambled eggs for breakfast. Though as she moved around the room she still couldn’t help but think back to her dream. Of course they had spoken about marriage before; when they had gotten back together again they had both agreed that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together, and that certainly included marriage, right?

If they got married then she would no longer be Miss. Cooper - she would be Mrs. Jones. The thought alone had her smiling widely at the frying pan in front of her as she sat it on the stove, an egg in her other hand. It would officially make her a part of his family, although she already knew how welcome she was into the Jones household. Betty was well aware that Jughead welcomed her into his household with open arms from day one when he was living at the trailer, though over time - through staying at the trailer some nights and then living in the same house as them - she grew close with his family too. Jellybean seemed like a little sister to her, even if she took some warming up to, and FP was like a father to her - more so than her own. After everything that had happened with Hal (she refused to refer to him as dad) FP treated her just as his own. And when she saw the man for the first time in seven years he greeted her like she was his daughter. A smile and open arms to hug her immediately. A kiss to her head and a mumble of “I missed you so much, Betty.” He liked her for who she was, not just for Jughead.

If they got married would FP walk her down the aisle? Would he dance with her at the reception? Would he gladly accept her as his daughter-in-law?

Getting along with Jughead’s family would be important, of course, but simply just having Jughead as her husband would be amazing in itself. They already acted like a married couple, but she knew life with him as her husband would be perfect. She could imagine small things like him referring to her as “Mrs. Jones”, calling her his wife and not just his girlfriend, always wearing matching wedding rings so they have something to connect to even when they aren’t together. Holidays together in a secluded cabin, slow dancing at parties, anniversary celebrations; she wanted it all.

She wanted to be married to him.

“You know,” a pair of arms snaked around her waist and held her into an embrace, bringing her out of her daydream. “If you want to cook the eggs, you have to crack them into the pan and not just stare at them.” His voice, though groggy with sleep, held a teasing undertone to it, and she smiled fondly to herself as she shook her head.

“I was just daydreaming. Got away from myself.” Betty mumbled, closing her eyes with a soft sigh as she felt kisses being placed to the back of her neck and wherever her shoulder was exposed.

“Was it about me?” Jughead teased again, and moved his hands to her hips to spin her to face him with a smile.

“It was actually.” Betty giggled, slipping her arms around his waist to tuck herself into him properly, shutting her eyes again as he dropped a kiss to her temple.

“Oh yeah? I’m flattered,” Jughead held her tightly against himself, his hand running across her back underneath the shirt she was wearing. “Can I ask why?”

“I had a nice dream about you.” Betty said softly, smiling to herself as she held onto him a bit tighter, tilting her head upwards slightly to leave a gentle kiss to the bottom of his jawline.

“A nice dream or a nice dream?” He teased, and chuckled as she gently nudged his side.

“A nice dream. It was very sweet. I don’t remember much about it but I know it made me really happy.” Betty said softly.

She looked up at Jughead as he hummed and leaned back slightly, and she leaned into his hand as he lifted it to rest against her cheek. It was moments like that when she knew that being married to Jughead would be perfect. They didn’t need to go on dates all the time or do fancy things to be happy with each other. Just having each other’s company was enough for them. All they needed was each other.

His hand cupped her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her and Betty smiled against his lips as her hands gently gripped onto his shoulders. They stood there for a few minutes, enjoying gentle touches and soft whispers between each other which only they would get, before they both felt fur brushing against their legs and an impatient meow following.

Betty pulled away with a pout as she looked down at Toffee who was looking directly at Jughead. “She likes you more than me.” She complained.

Jughead chuckled as he leaned down to lift Toffee into his arms, letting the cat nudge his face as she started purring. “I am very likeable.” He joked.

Betty fondly rolled her eyes and turned away from him and back towards the stove to turn it on, actually starting to fix their breakfast that time without getting distracted. “Of all people you don’t have to tell me that.” She pointed out, and heard him laugh behind her as he pressed a kiss to her head.

“Good point.”

As she focused on the eggs, she didn’t see Jughead move across the kitchen to where he had left his work bag on the table from the day before. She missed his hand reaching into one of the side pockets from which he pulled a velvet ring box. She didn’t see the sun reflecting on the golden band as he opened the box to check it was still inside. As Betty stirred the eggs Jughead slipped the ring box into his jacket which was hanging on one of the coat hooks by the door way; the jacket he’d be wearing out later that day when he took her out for lunch at their favourite restaurant. Where he would hopefully quite literally make a dream come true.

[brockadoodles]

Snow doesn’t fall in scottsdale - a. matthews

AN: Uhh just ignore the text in the gif since it’s obviously not relevant to the story. (even though Ema is the best) But here’s what might be the last Christmas fic in my eight weeks of Christmas series. I’ve been finding myself inspired for other stuff, and there’s so much wonderful Christmas content out there that I’m sure you don’t need 47837584 more from me. So enjoy this one, a nice anon requested more Auston content, so that’s why I wrote it. But, I really liked it and hope you do too. 

This is also for @broadstbroskis​ who I love to send things at absolutely inappropriate times for her so, I hope this hits you at a bad time ;) 

Word Count: 4628

Warnings: None, it’s floofy. 

Auston felt himself sigh as he looked at you. You were sitting out on the roof and holding an old mug of tea. He noticed the way you held the mug close to your chest and looked out at the skyline. The sun was just beginning to set, the deep orange and purple hues and the hot dry air  were some of his favorite things about where he was from and lived during the offseason. But as he carefully looked at the somber expression coming from his limited view of your face, he could tell that you missed Toronto.

You were the type of person who had a firm belief that Christmas wasn’t really Christmas without the snow, and Scottsdale, Arizona might have felt cold at 20 degrees celsius to those that lived there, but to you all it was, was a dry desert with fake Christmas trees and a painful lack of snow covering the ground. Your favorite memories included carrying a small sled down the street while holding your mom’s hand, or sitting on your dad’s shoulders at the Christmas market every year, snow piling onto your beanie as you stuck your tongue out hoping to catch flakes. Those were your favorite memories of the holiday and even if the view was stunning, the palm trees simply didn’t hold a match to the thick, evergreens covered in snow. But you were thankful to have Auston, and his family, who had been nothing but accommodating to you. So you kept your homesickness away from them, plastering on a smile that faded as soon as you came out to the roof to take a moment to yourself. 

You didn’t want to complain, because you were genuinely grateful that Auston had invited you to spend the holiday with him. Before you could contemplate the weight of the question, or think about how spending Christmas with your friend who always felt like something more would only entangle your heart further into the mess of feelings that it was already nestled in, you said yes. The decision didn’t phase you until you were waiting for a flight, your thigh brushing his and his head resting on your shoulder, that maybe this was only going to end up hurting you in the long run because of your own harbored feelings for one of your closest friends.

You’d liked Auston for almost as long as you’ve known him, having met in a chance run in when he bumped into you on a night out with your friends, spilling your drink all down your dress. He offered you a new one, and soon you found yourself tumbling into a dangerous friendship with him that your heart always wanted to pull more out of. It was a bad idea, going home with him. It was something that was debatably far too intimate for two people who were supposed to be just friends. But you didn’t know that Auston harbored feelings of his own, and you didn’t know just how much he’d do to make your Christmas special. 

Auston watched carefully as you set the mug down and snapped a picture, one that would later end up on Instagram for the world to see, captioned “there’s no snow but the view is great.” You flipped your phone back over, presumably hiding any potential interruptions from your time up on the roof. He took your pause as his moment to make his presence known, and he carefully opened the tall glass sliding door and stepped out onto the roof. You looked over at him before curling your feet underneath your legs to make space for him to sit. 

“Are you okay?” He tentatively asked. You simply nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder, causing him to instinctively pull you closer into his body. It was almost terrifying how well he knew your mannerisms, each breath you took or movement gave away everything about how you were feeling. It scared him how well he could read you, but he paid attention because he cared. Auston knew this was about Christmas, and while didn’t know how to pull any of it off, he'd drive to Colorado and back if it meant bringing you a dusting of snow to the desert in December.

----------

The following afternoon, your mood had improved and the melancholic moment shared between you was nearly forgotten as you sat across from him at the small coffee shop. Auston had this ability to know your every emotion. He knew when you wanted to talk about what was bothering you and when you didn’t, and you appreciated that when you woke up the next day, he offered nothing other than a soft smile and asked if you’d like to check out this new small coffee place with him. 

“I can’t believe you managed to get this much time off this season, normally you don’t even go home.” You hummed as you sipped on your drink. Auston held the door open for you as you walked out, the heat hitting your skin almost instantly as the loss of air conditioning from the shop became more apparent. 

“I know, but it’s good.” He shrugged, offering no indication that there was any deeper meaning to that statement as he followed you out of the shop. The truth was that the extra time was much needed, as it gave him the perfect opportunity for an impulsive trip out of town that just might lift the mood you were so desperately trying to conceal. 

You handed Auston your iced coffee for a moment so that you could toss up your hair. The sun was starting to beat down, heating up your skin and causing a light sweat. 

“It’s too hot, how can you even be wearing that?” You gestured to his outfit, which in contrast to some of the clothes he normally wore, was relatively relaxed and normal. He was wearing black joggers and a dark t-shirt, with a light flannel on top. You were sweating just looking at it in comparison to the oversized Nike t-shirt you had stolen from him that morning, and your soft shorts. You couldn’t deny that it looked good on him though, and if it wasn’t so hot and you lived in a reality where you could act on your feelings, you wouldn’t mind tucking yourself right into his chest.   

“Ah well, that’s because we’re not staying here.” He shrugged, shaking you out of your daydream and tugging you back toward his car. He laced his fingers in yours and it sent fluttering right to your chest. The simple display of affection was something that you were likely reading entirely too much into. But you didn’t care, because your brain was communicating chemicals of fondness that were being sent straight to your heart with the simple gesture, and you were going to let yourself enjoy it even if it ultimately didn’t actually mean anything substantial. 

“What? Where are we going?” You asked. Auston just smiled nervously at you as he unlocked the car. He untangled his fingers from yours and walked to the driver’s side door, a sensation that you subtly frowned at. 

“Uh, well I hope you don’t mind but…” His voice was muffled as he got into the driver's seat. 

“But what, Auston?” You pressed. 

“We may be going on a road trip.” He bit his lip slightly as your eyes went wide. He knew this was spontaneous, and maybe too much. But all he wanted was to see a smile on your face and if he had to spend all night looking up weather reports and finding a town that had a substantial amount of snow and drive you there, that was a task he was more than willing to do. 

“To where? And why?” You laughed. Auston smirked at you as he started the car.

“This small town in the mountains in Colorado. We have a cabin, we’re bringing Felix, and there’s a ton of snow right now.” He smiled at you, watching out of the corner of his eye to see your reaction as you took in what he was saying. Your eyes widened and your heart rate quickened. You reached over the center console and grabbed his hand and slid your fingers through his once more.

“Thank you.” You whispered, hoping that the simple words could accurately depict just how appreciative you were of him. He pulled your hand up to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to the back of it and smiling at you once again. The adoration in his eyes was more than what a friend should show, but this entire trip was more than friendly, and you didn’t really care that you were setting your heart up for the inevitable disappointment you might face by the end of it, because you at least somewhat had Auston. He may have not been your boyfriend, you couldn’t kiss him whenever you wanted, or hold him beyond small gestures but he cared about you, probably more than he cared about most of his friends, and that was enough. So you packed a bag, loaded Felix into the car, and drove just over eight hours with him to spend a few days in the snow before Christmas.

----------

The first night you got there, the two of you were exhausted. You were so tired that you couldn’t even register the lines you were crossing as you climbed into bed next to him, Felix tucked securely under your feet. You were so tired that you didn’t question it when his arm came around your waist and slid just underneath the waist of the sweatshirt you were wearing. He was warm, and you felt safe, so you let yourself drift off to sleep without thinking of the emotional consequences of the romanticization of all of this. 

The second night, Auston had insisted on another surprise for you. One that he was tight lipped about, but swore that you would love. All he told you was that you needed to dress warm and be ready to walk around. So, you threw on more layers than was probably necessary and let him lead you into town. 

You grabbed onto his arm to not lose him. The crowd was larger than you’d expect for the small mountain town he had brought you to. Auston just pulled you in closer, wrapping an arm around you to tuck you safe and secure into his side. It was another simple gesture, adding to the annoying list in the back of your mind of things that Auston Matthews could do that caused a flutter in your stomach and slight heartache in your chest. But it was cold, and the gesture was one that made you feel calm and content as he led you further into the town. 

The small town was quant, and reminded you of some picturesque stereotypical German town that went all out for the holidays. The Bavarian style cottages and buildings were all decorated with lights, and the snow on the roofs was a sight that made you smile even more as you kept walking. You were about to ask Auston where you were headed when suddenly the lights came into view. Your eyes went wide as you looked at the giant tree in the center of the town square, it was lit up with white lights and shiny, multicolored ornaments. Snow was settled into the branches and littered on the ground. You nearly cried when you realized where he had brought you. 

“I can’t make it snow in Arizona, I can’t replicate the tree, but I found this place and thought it was pretty close.” He looked down as you with a subtle smile on his lips. You reached a hand up to his cheek, running your thumb along the stubble from where his beard was growing in, feeling his cheeks shift into a larger smile. He wrapped an arm further around your waist and pulled you into his chest. Auston looked at you like you were his entire world and his heart lurched in his chest at yet another grip you were securing on it. He wanted to lean down and kiss you. He wanted to walk through the door to your soul that he had been waiting behind for so long because for the first time, standing there with your hand on his cheek and you looking at him the way that you were, it felt like it was finally opening for him. 

But the moment was fleeting and as your eyes scattered away from his and you stepped back, his heart dropped. Because in that moment he could almost see the intricate parts of your mind racing, probably regretting getting so close to him in the first place. He didn’t get to kiss you that night, but as you threw on his sweatshirt and crawled into bed next to him, letting your head fall onto his chest, he let himself wander back to the idea of your feelings being reciprocated. It was that feeling that left him softly smiling as he fell asleep. 

----------

“I have one last surprise for this trip.” Auston came out into the kitchen. He stood behind you and reached an arm around to grab a mug, resting his other hand on your waist as he did so. You were growing almost too accustomed to the subtle touches shared on this trip, to falling asleep in his arms. You were in your own almost blissful world, and there was a part of you that had been thinking about taking the leap and kissing him. Because in this blissful world, reality didn’t exist. You weren’t going back to Arizona tomorrow, and you weren’t ultimately going back to Toronto to your separate apartments. In this reality, you could stay with Auston forever, without the pressures of everything that real life brought both of you. 

“Do enlighten me on the latest Auston Matthews surprise experience, because I must say that I am enjoying it.” You teased, passing him the coffee pot that was in front of you. You spun around to face him and his smile grew. There was a soft glow to his smile and his eyes that had your heart racing even faster than it already was previously, and you bit your lip as you waited for a response. 

“We’re going skating.” He grinned, a satisfactory laugh coming from him as he watched your eyes go wide and mouth hang open just slightly. You had only skated once in your life, and it was when you were seven. Your older brother had shoved you onto the ice and you tumbled, breaking your arm in the process. Ever since then, skating was the one fear you had, which was slightly ironic considering the person you were essentially in love with did it for a living. 

“Auston… you know I don’t know how to skate.” You glanced over at him, his hand reassuringly came to rest on your hip, a soft squeeze that sent shivers running through your body at the contact. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and you nearly fell over. The line that the two of you were balancing on felt like it had been crossed with the intimacy of the kiss. It was a simple, quick, but tender kiss to the forehead, and it was rushing into your heart, causing it to react and demand more from him. 

“Time to learn, babe.” He patted your hip and walked out of the kitchen. The disconnect from his body no longer pressed almost against yours was almost excruciating. You stood there in the kitchen for what felt like hours just replaying the moment in your mind. You were so focussed on how badly you wanted him that you didn’t even register the fear that you normally felt when it came to the idea of skating. 

Later that afternoon, after resolving yourself to the fact that you were definitely not getting out of this surprise, and realizing that he even bought new skates for you, Auston led you through a snow-covered pathway on your way to the frozen lake. The walk was quiet, the only sounds coming from your feet crunching in the snow. As you got closer and the lake came into view, you were regretting leaving Felix at the cabin because he could have been a great excuse to use to get out of this. 

Auston spotted a small bench and instructed you to sit down on it. He sat down beside you and lifted a leg into your lap, sliding the skate on and beginning to tie it securely for you. You watched as his hands moved, tightening the laces. When he was done with both skates, his hand slid up your shin, a soft reassuring smile on his face as he tapped your leg indicating that you needed to move so he could put on his own skates. You were starting to get more and more nervous as he finished lacing his up and grabbed your hands, helping you stand on the edge of the lake. Auston took a few steps backwards, guiding you to the very edge of the frozen lake. Your stomach dropped when he stepped out, the sound of skates hitting the ice shocking you back into the reality of what you were doing. 

“No railing baby, you’ve got to hold onto me or accept that you might fall.” Auston teased as you stood at the edge of the lake. This felt like a disaster waiting to happen, a tragic ending to what would have been the cute cheesy skating scene in one of those terrible lifetime Christmas movies. You felt slightly ridiculous out there, but Auston didn’t see it that way. He saw this as another opportunity to help you have the best possible Christmas even if you were away from your family. 

“You know.. what if I just sit here and watch you?” You offered, biting your lip as he skated to the edge of the lake. He positioned himself right in front of you and took your gloves hands in his, guiding you slowly onto the ice. 

“I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall, okay?” He reassured you. If only he knew that falling on the ice was the least of your concerns when it came to the meaning of that word. Auston reached for your hand, silently lacing his fingers with yours as he guided you into taking your first step. You crashed into him, hands flailing into his chest as he laughed softly at you. 

“It’s not funny!” You whined, grasping onto him as tightly as you could. Auston didn’t mind the contact, he wanted to be with you all the time, his heart carefully locked in your possession to keep, whether you knew it or not. If anyone told him that he’d have gone through all of this for a person who he wasn’t even dating, he would have laughed in their face. But you were different, and no matter how hard he tried to pretend you were just a friend, he knew he was potentially setting himself up for a shattered soul if you didn’t feel the same way that he did. 

You let Auston guide you around the ice, his hands secure on your body to prevent you from falling. When he guided you off the ice, you sat straight down onto the same bench you had previously. Auston leaned in front of you, grabbing the back of the bench with his hands on either side of you. For a moment you let your mind drift, thinking about what it would be like to reach out and grab the strings tauntingly hanging from his sweatshirt and pulling him into you from where he was standing. You thought about how you could press your lips softly to his, reaching your hand through his hair to pull him closer into you. You felt your stomach in knots as you thought about kissing him, something you’d been wanting to do for a while, but never had the courage to, and it wasn’t until he waved a hand in front of your face that you realized you weren’t kissing him, it was just an image projected from your imagination as you sat there, wishing your feelings away so that you wouldn’t constantly be rejected in your own head. 

----------

The two of you set off on the drive back to Scottsdale the next day, leaving behind the bliss of being unplugged and away from everyone for just a few days. The whole experience almost felt like a melatonin induced dream, the last three days spent with him. But as you settled back into the guest room in his Arizona house on Christmas Eve, your bed felt cold and empty without him. 

Christmas day had come and was nearly over, and you smiled more than you thought that you would. It was weird how the short trip had changed your perspective over the whole holiday. You weren’t nearly as homesick as you had been. You were genuinely enjoying yourself, and felt like you belonged right where you were as you helped Ema in the kitchen with Christmas dinner. You felt a sense of ease finally about Auston, clarity slowly drifting from your heart to your brain about how you felt about him. 

You had excused yourself after dinner to go up to the roof once more, just taking some time to let all of your feelings settle. The reality of going back to Toronto was starting to creep back in. Soon you would be home and back in the routine of the second half of the hockey season. Auston would go back to being gone all of the time, and you would go back to work, the fleeting feelings you were experiencing would pass, and you’d get back to the place that you had been before where you were content with him just being your friend. 

Auston however, had different hopes for the last few hours of this short escape from Toronto. He loved his job, he loved his teammates and the city, but he’d be lying to everyone and himself if he didn’t admit that you were one of his favorite parts of the whole thing. He lit up whenever he’d see you in the crowd, the same old Maple Leafs beanie you had since your high school days adorned on your head. You fit seamlessly into his life in every single way except for the most important one, and he had enough of it. This week spent with you had shown him that he needed to be honest. He needed to release his heart from the weight of his own growing feelings for you, and there were moments where he truly thought that you were going to catch it. He needed to take the chance, he might explode if he didn’t. 

The gift was entirely too much, it was too sentimental, too heartfelt, too every other adjective in the dictionary for the word much, and Auston knew that. He knew that this gift sealed any chance at keeping his feelings opaque, the transparency of the glass felt like a metaphor for a window into his own heart. But he didn’t care. He didn’t care that it was too much, all he wanted was for the horribly wrapped confession to somehow be enough for you. Auston took a deep breath as he held the box, the one that Bre had helped him wrap just the night previously. You were up on the roof, sitting peacefully as you watched the sunset over the skyline. The palm trees and dry terrain are vastly different than what you were used to in December. It was almost like you had a sixth sense he was behind you because he swore he felt his heart drop into his stomach when you turned your head just enough, showing a warm and soft smile as he tentatively stepped toward you. 

You were in one of his sweatshirts and your hair was up, a look that in all your years of knowing each other he never got tired of. You were everything to him, and he had been so sure about how he felt about you right from the beginning. But, you weren’t ready. At the time you had just had a bad breakup, your heart was tucked in a locked box in your chest, no hope of it being unlocked by anyone else for a long time. But, a long time had been coming, and now that you were here, in Arizona, in his sweatshirt, smiling at him, he could only hope that you would at least consider giving your heart to him. 

Auston stepped out onto the roof again, a familiar feeling settling into his chest from just a few days prior. You lifted your eyes up to meet his, this time a genuine smile adorning your lips as the moon and small patio light lit up your face. He sat down next to you once again, handing you the small, wrapped gift that he had been holding.

“I have one last surprise for you.” He quietly spoke. 

You took the box in your hands and you slowly unwrapped the gift.  You set the paper down under your thigh and pulled out the small snow globe, letting it feel heavy in your hands. Your fingers traced over the details, the fetched mountains in the glass and the hint of green pointing through the white snow. It was a simple gift, something plucked straight out of a bad holiday movie, but you didn’t care because it came from him, and the thought behind it was better than any tangible gift he could have bought for you.

“Turns out, snow is very hard to come by around here.” He smiled down at you. You looked at Auston with a new perspective filling your mind, you noticed all of the things about him that you were blissfully ignoring before for the sake of guarding your own heart and hiding your own feelings. You knew his eyes softened when he looked at you, you just chose not to see it until now. 

“Auston-“ you started, but his eyes shifted as he spoke. His entire speech was tossed off the side of the roof, he was going with his gut here. He was going to tell you how he felt, because he simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“This is probably the worst time for this. And you deserve better than some shitty rooftop confession on Christmas. But, I like you. I like you so much, I have probably since shortly after we met, and I know I didn’t make snow fall like I promised, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. How badly I want to kiss you, how badly I want to just say that I love you all the time.”

“Auston, you talk too much.” You smiled at him. Everything felt warm, and it wasn’t just because of the slight heat in the air, or his body closely hovering above yours. You were warm because you loved him, a concept that you weren’t expecting yet somehow ended up prepared for. 

“Well, I’ll shut up and kiss you, then.” He teased, smiling into a soft kiss. Your hand tangled in his hair, and your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into him. 

“Oh, and I love you too.” You smiled as you leaned in to kiss him once more. Sure it wasn’t Toronto. It wasn’t that blissful three days in the mountains. There weren’t lights or trees or snow or anything that you’d traditionally associate with December 25th, but you had Auston in exactly the way that you had wanted him for a long time, and somehow that was better than all of it combined. 

[gyucore]

to reach a happy ending

pairing: beomgyu x reader

tags: fluff, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 1.6k

warnings: beomgyu swears like once

prompts:

017: "A fairytale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face."

023: "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

— requested by ⛅ anon! sorry this took so long to make. i hope you like it!! ♡

"Ew, look at this." You hand the dusty old photo album to Beomgyu who's sprawled across the floor by your side.

"Wait—" He stops you, rolling away before letting out a sneeze so loud that it managed to echo off the dusty untouched walls of his old room. The poor guy couldn't help it, his room hadn't been cleaned since he moved out in the middle of high school, and his mom preferred to keep things as they were— dust and all. You wonder if it was simply an excuse to clean one less room.

Beomgyu did say he had dropped in yesterday without notice. You'd think he'd want to spend some quality time with his parents first, but he'd decided to invite you over after spending a single night under this roof. Having heard nothing but radio silence from your best friend in years, you were thrilled to get to see him again. And what better way to shed off the ever present awkwardness in the beginning than to go through old photo albums?

"Okay, show me." Beomgyu rolls back to your side, scooting in closer to rest his head on your lap.

You turn the photo album, pointing at one photo in particular of you and Beomgyu dressed as a knight and damsel in distress— Beomgyu playing the role of the latter. Contrary to the roles, you were pummeling Beomgyu to the ground as if having caught a thief, and Beomgyu was shoving his handkerchief to your face, blocking your eyesight. The context behind the photograph alludes you, but this might just be a case of seven-year-olds doing whatever they want whenever.

"The fuck you mean ew? I look great in that dress!" Frowning, Beomgyu grabs the album to stare longer at his past self's glory.

"Lying to yourself isn't good for you, Gyu." You jokingly disapprove. It was fun seeing his reactions right after.

"Oh, look at these."

Beomgyu points at a photo of you and him on stage, wearing the same costumes as before. You figured it was for a play back in first grade when you two had been classmates. The next series of photos included one of you holding out a sword towards a kid in a cheap dragon costume, one of Beomgyu holding back his tears after tripping over and ripping his dress, and ones of you rushing to Beomgyu and kissing away his tears.

"This takes me back." Beomgyu lights up with a smile, failing to notice the surprise on your face. "Remember when your mom made us believe that kissing any injuries we had would make it go away? I knew you wanted to help me back then but I couldn't stop crying and tell you were it hurt, so you started kissing all over my face hoping it'd go away."

You find yourself laughing at your past self's foolishness. "But did it work?" You ask in between laughs.

"Well," Beomgyu chuckles, getting up from his position on your lap. "I don't think it would've worked if another person had done it. But since it was you— Wait." He takes one last look at the album, letting slip a wheeze before placing it back in its box. "Mom wrote something right below the photo."

"What did she write?" You ask, holding out your hands for Beomgyu to grab.

"A fairy tale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face." Beomgyu tells you as he helps you up, trying his best to keep a straight face after delivering that line.

The two of you burst into laughter at his mother's words. You knew she'd been fond of fairy tales all her life but the caption was taking you out. Beomgyu was literally crying in the photo yet somehow this, to her, was a happy ending.

You eventually take notice of all the photos plastered around his room, some framed, and some simply stuck to the walls— memories of happier times. Most were of you and him, and in some, just you. He'd shown off the Polaroid camera his mother bought for him in seventh grade, proclaiming he'd only take photos of moments he'd want to keep in his memory forever. It never actually crossed your mind that a lot of them would be of you.

Beomgyu notices your wandering eyes and chuckles, placing an arm around your shoulder. The distance between you shrinks as he holds you closer. And at that moment, you take note of everything that's changed.

He'd gotten taller since the last time you saw him. Gone was the lanky boy you knew, evident in the way his muscles flexed with every small movement you wish you hadn't noticed. Beomgyu had grown his hair out; the thick, wavy locks tucked behind his ears, covering the back of his neck. The deepness of his voice had been a surprise when he greeted you at the door earlier, but you held back from pointing it out.

You feared that if you acknowledged all the changes, you'd be forced to face reality. That things weren't the same anymore, no matter how hard you tried. After all, Beomgyu wasn't the only one who changed. You had quite the few character development arcs yourself, and experiences which Beomgyu remained oblivious of. And somehow despite that, in his presence, you started to feel like your old self again.

Beomgyu's invitation had come as a surprise last night. You thought he'd forgotten about you, what with all the silence these past few years.

Life continued on as it should even without Beomgyu by your side, but you could argue that all the amazing experiences you've had on your own would've been better if he were there to experience it with you. And now here you were in his old room, pretending everything was the same as he'd left it.

You look up at your old friend, wanting to tell him what had been plaguing your thoughts the entire day but find yourself tongue tied when his dark eyes stare back into your own. And you wonder, how many times had it been that you'd stared into each other's eyes just like this? How many times had he pulled you close into his arms all those years? And just how many nights had you spent wondering if your feelings for him had grown into something more?

"I missed you." Beomgyu speaks first, his gaze never faltering.

Hearing his voice, you swear you could've melted right then and there. Part of you had wished he'd tell you those exact words, confirming that it hadn't been just you who'd been wanting to see him all these years.

"I missed you too."

Beomgyu could only smile at your response.

His arm leaves your shoulder— hands slowly finding their way to your own. His hold was gentle as he slowly guided you to face him.

"Don't laugh, but," Beomgyu starts. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"Love at fir—"

The question throws you off.

"What?"

"I heard you the first time!" You cut him off, wanting so bad to cover your face from the secondhand embarrassment. "I can't believe you just said that. What even happened to you in college?"

"Hey! At least hear me out before you make fun of me." Beomgyu bursts out laughing at your reaction, his thumbs caressing the back of your hands to help you calm down. "Judging from your reaction, I'm guessing your answer is a no. And I honestly felt the same too until a few hours back."

"Okay, you lost me there."

"Shut up. What I'm saying is," Beomgyu squeezes your hands, leaning in closer. "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch the last few years. I had a lot of trouble adjusting, and it took a while for me to really get the hang of living alone. I wanted to talk to you as soon as I got there but then I thought that maybe it would've been better for you if I left you to live your own life for a while too."

"Beomgyu.." You squeeze his hands back, sensing the sincerity in his eyes.

Beomgyu shakes his head. "I know this sounds silly and all, but I didn't want you to feel the emptiness I felt when I left. I wanted you to go and make experiences of your own without me."

You frown, refraining to speak until he's done.

"But then I couldn't stop thinking about you. Everywhere I went, I'd think of you and how the place would've been better if we got to hang out there together. Every time I had fun or ate something that tasted good, I wanted you to share the experience with me."

Beomgyu sighs. "Honestly, I thought I could make it through my visit home without seeing you but I passed by your house on my way home yesterday and I just.. I couldn't hold back. And when I saw you for the first time in years at the front of my doorstep.. I knew I had to tell you."

Half of you knew what to expect, and the other half doubted the reality of the situation. But all the doubts instantly melt away as soon as Beomgyu closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together.

Face flushed, you stare at him in awe and notice he had his eyes closed shut. "Cute." You thought.

He whispers in a voice so quiet you could barely hear.

"I like you."

You couldn't hold it in any longer, the rush of emotions crashing into you like raging waves against a cliff. The next moment, you find yourself inching closer and closer, face heating up even more as you press your lips against his as a reply.

Beomgyu's eyes widen, body freezing in place. He hadn't exactly expected you to respond so soon, especially not like this. And he couldn't be happier.

You feel Beomgyu returning the kiss, his hands going up to cup your face— his hold gentle. The two of you wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment for as long as life permits, because for once, you could finally see the path to your happily ever after slowly unraveling.

This was just the beginning.

[vaguely-concerned]

TF x Graves, 2500 words, complete and utter fluff

Stifling another yawn against the back of my hand I glance over at the window, which shows only the flat dark of a moonless night outside, before turning my eyes back to the line of T.F.’s naked back.

I’m already undressed and perched on the side of the bed, watching as T.F. is still in the middle of his nightly ritual of hanging or folding his fine clothes up all properly and neatly, lest they, I don’t know, unduly crease somewhere they ain’t meant to or somethin’. Listen, I keep my clothes in a pile on the floor by the side of the bed, right next to the shotgun, both within easy reach in the case of a middle-of-the-night emergency skipping of town. Our priorities in these matters don’t really intersect much, but to each his own and so on.

I don’t know why I’m waiting for him to come to bed to lie down myself, exactly — my eyes are already making a spirited attempt at staying shut on me whenever I blink, I’m pretty sure I’d be out and snoring in about three seconds once I got settled — but my skin has that thin restless thrum all through it that I know from experience won’t be satisfied until he’s settled into place against me and besides, the view is nothin’ to sneeze at in the meantime. He stands there shirtless, belt unbuckled and hanging loose around his narrow hips, though the fastenings of his trousers are still done up. In the light of the oil lamp across the room he’s in a rare state of relaxed unselfconscious disarray, his hair grown out long enough again that it spills over his shoulders and down his back while he fastidiously fastens the cufflinks back into place on the empty shirt so they’ll be easy to find in the morning. As he finishes up with the cufflinks he sings to himself under his breath, a good-natured jaunty little tune I vaguely remember the Brick would sometimes break out once you got a couple of drinks in him.

The hum under my skin grows higher and keener.

Stretching an arm out I hook my fingers into one of his belt loops and gently pull him in by it towards the side of the bed, until he’s standing between my legs. It prompts a half-bemused noise from him, but he goes along easily — when I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my forehead against his belly he seems to catch on, though, a sound of amusement vibrating through his chest.

He slides his hand to the back of my neck, twining his fingers into the short hair there, thumb trailing back and forth along the hairline.

T.F.’s too damned scrawny to have much in the way of padding anywhere, but there’s the warm body softness to him here nevertheless, the sweet yield and shift of a living thing whose pliancy belies the supple strength beneath. I rest my cheek against the flat of his stomach and sigh, moving my hand at the small of his back in slow caressing circles.

“Come to bed already,” I murmur, too sleep-softened along the edges to worry overmuch about makin’ sense.

He chuckles, fingers stroking through my hair. “Well, I was on my way, but then I was waylaid by some deplorable fellow in the process. Hell of a thing.”

I grin and turn my face up to him, so that my chin is resting against his belly and my lips brush his skin when I talk. “Huh. Sounds like a real shady character. You want a trustworthy sorta guy to escort you safely the rest of the way?”

“With such dangerous reprobates skulking around in the area, that’s probably for the best,” T.F. nods somberly, fond amusement deepening his voice. He runs his thumb down the bridge of my nose. “Could I afford to hire the services of a strapping upstanding gentleman like yourself, though?”

I make a nonchalant sound in my nose, squeezing him closer against me for a moment. “Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, this one’s on the house.”

His thumb drifts down to rest at the upturned corner of my mouth as he grins back at me. “Hey, looks like it’s my lucky day.”

I kiss his stomach and lean back enough so I can start in on the fastenings of his trousers — not with any sort of heat behind it, there’s no hint of sex in the air, but in a weird way this is equally satisfying, the everyday-textured contentment of being close without any particular purpose, being the one to slowly render him naked in front of me for no other reason than that he lets me, his hands still smoothing patiently through my hair while I work.

Once I’ve got all the buttons sorted I run my thumb along the sharp edge of his hip bone until I can tuck it into the waist of his trousers and use it to tug them down. We get them about half-way down his thighs like that before we have to pause for him to shimmy out of them the rest of the way on his own, his hand resting on my shoulder for balance as he does the traditional one-legged hop to extricate his foot. Serves him right for only ever wearing pants that might as well have been painted onto him. I mean, not that I’m complainin’, mind.

“Whoa!” he says, laughing as he almost overbalances at the last hurdle, but my hand shoots out to steady him by the hip before too much disaster can be wrought. “Well, not the smoothest strip tease I’ve ever pulled off, sorry about the inconvenience.”

I nose at the newly revealed crease of his hip over the edge of his underwear. “Eh, that’s okay, if I actually wanted a proper show I’d just suggest a round of strip poker again and sit back and watch while you lose.”

“Oh, that’s a strange yet beautiful dream world you’ve made up for yourself there, Malcolm. It’s touching, really, the things the mind will do to protect itself from the truth. Positively — aah!”

T.F. jumps as I draw some of the skin of his hip between my lips and use them to nip sharply at it. His startled yelp turns into a snigger as I let go, possibly ruining the castigating effects somewhat when I brush my lips soothingly over that spot right after.

“Let that be a lesson to ya,” I say sternly.

“A lesson on what, that your mom was apparently half turtle?”

I grunt, still trailing soft kisses over his skin. “That judge in Piltover was right back then, you are an incorrigible menace to all decent and right-thinking people everywhere.”

“First of all, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Malcolm, thank you. Two, including yourself among the ‘decent and right-thinking’ feels like the invention of some fresh new form of fraud by way of imposture unfolding before my eyes, and it’s an honour. And third, that seems to me to be some very selective memory you have there, considering His Honour Judge Highton had some even more colourful words for you after you blew up the entire north wall of the court building breakin’ me out.”

“He might’ve been given to wearing a damn silly mop on his head, but you couldn’t fault him on his vocabulary,” I concede. Before that whole incident I’d honestly thought the wigs were some sort of practical joke the Pilties would play on gullible outsiders, but as it turns out no, if you get sent to jail in the twin cities they add the indignity of makin’ someone wearing a dead badger on their head break the bad news to you. It’s a strange ol’ world out there, alright. In Bilgewater, where people are much more sensible, the justice system basically boils down to the bounty board, or — if you’ve really managed to make a nuisance of yourself — a bunch of captains may call a temporary ceasefire with each other and go get your ass together. I’ve found that the risk of getting on the bad end of an unfair trial is about the same in both places, though of course the Bilgewater one tends to be harder to come back from if carried out to its fullest. I consider myself a bit of an expert in these things.

T.F. makes a thoughtful sound. “To be fair I don’t think anyone had ever given him cause or inspiration for profanity like you did.”

“Aw. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head before he straightens for long enough to work his second foot free as well, standing there in just the sleek silky underpants he somehow seems to have an endless fresh supply of wherever we go. (My money’s on some sinister underground ring of lingerie-oriented tailors across south-eastern Valoran, for the record; when it comes to secret societies the Noxians just can’t help themselves.)

“I do my best. Hang on just one moment, I’ll be right back,” he says and ruffles my hair before he turns around, which I would complain about except that the view is, as previously mentioned, impeccable, and I’m sleepy enough to be magnanimous.

After meticulously folding his trousers and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, T.F. moves over to the table across the room and extinguishes the oil lamp, then whistles under his breath as he produces a card from somewhere — he does this, seemingly from thin air and no matter how little he’s wearing; I prefer not to speculate too much about how, exactly — and lets a little magic into it so it gives off a low glow, only enough to light his way the short walk back across the room, ‘cause in T.F.’s world the stubbing of toes and smacking of shins against unexpected furniture in the dark is somethin’ that happens to other people. That probably says some things about him I’m not ready to go puzzlin’ out at this time of night, and that he wouldn’t want to have anyone go puzzlin’ about too hard in the first place anyway.

When I hold out my hand for him in the dark he smiles and takes it, twining our fingers together, and I use the hold to tug him in and deposit him, in a neat controlled wrestler’s roll held close against me as I lay down, to his side of the bed. He laughs again at that, a surprised delighted sound that edges dangerously close to a giggle but hey, I ain’t no snitch, so who’s gonna testify against him, huh?

The card ends up on the far side of his pillow after the tumble, still giving off a glow, enough to illuminate the bed and lend the shadows around it some warmth. It makes the bed seem a small cozy island, the rest of the world rendered a not-unfriendly ocean of darkness around it.

T.F. looks at me like the world’s most contented castaway, bourgeoning crow’s feet punctuating his smile on either side and fingers still linked with mine. His hair is mussed from the meandering fall onto the bed. If I were only fractionally less about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep, my body might start to get ideas about it. Well, tomorrow is always another day.

With the back of my free hand I brush some of his hair away from his brow, and he cranes into it like a well-pleased cat. Even with the blankets tangled around our feet and the not-quite-right positions we’ve ended up in, having tumbled into place rather than settled ourselves with purpose, everything feels warm and loose and comfortable, like I could fall asleep like this even with the decidedly odd angle my arm is at.

As if sensing that the drowsiness is about to claim me for real, T.F. brings our linked hands up to his face so he can press his lips to my scarred knuckles before he lets go, then reaches to pull the covers over us, taking a moment to tuck the blanket around my shoulder properly before snuggling under it himself, hooking his leg over my thigh as he settles into place. I shift until we fit together, the familiarity of how to rest against each other just right comfortable like an old and well-loved piece of clothing. On a sigh he rests our foreheads together, craning forward the tiny amount needed to brush our mouths together and humming contentedly when I meet him there. It’s a slow kiss, but it lingers, a dry sweet press of lips like one last spark sending the day off down into the gently drifting murk of sleep that’s about to claim me for a few hours.

When it ends — I don’t think either of us was really the first to pull back, at some point the kiss simply, in the way of snowflakes on tongues, melted into something different and less defined with the warmth — there’s a moment when my eyes can still fight against slipping shut. It’s weird, the way you can look at someone every day for years and still not feel like you’ve had your fill. T.F.’s sharp narrow face, his high pointy little cheekbones and mouth still curved with a smile as he watches me back — there’s something to knowing I’m gonna see all that again tomorrow morning that all the damn money on Runeterra couldn’t get you. And take it from me, from what I’ve seen of the world there ain’t a lot of things in this life enough money won’t buy. Stumbling across one of them long before we even knew what we had, by a stroke of little more’n dumb fucking luck… sometimes it feels like the biggest heist we ever pulled.

“Hey, Tobias?” I say, brushing the tip of my nose against his as my eyelids finally give up both the battle and the war and slide closed.

“Hmmm?” he says, cheerfully drowsy as well.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I murmur, because I can’t think of any damn happier thing in the world to say to him.

He wraps his arms around me, his hand stroking meanderingly up and down the scar-crossed span of my back, fingers trailing over my skin with the perfect amount of firmness because he’s taken the time to learn exactly how much pressure it takes to make it comforting. As sleep starts pulling me under to calmer depths I tuck my head under his chin, so my face is pressed to the line of his throat and to his chest. He smells so nice, all warmly real and well-known like my own breathing.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees on a yawn, nuzzling at the top of my head and tightening his arms around me, just for a moment.

I've been trying to write stuff -- literally just anything, no matter how meandering and nonsensical -- to try to break out of a writer's block; it's not really working so far but at least I've got SOMETHING tangible to show for it at the end of the day, so, you know, uh... partial success I guess?? haha

The idea of T.F. having a judge somewhere out there who considers him the One True Nemesis of his career, J. Jonah Jameson style, even though T.F. barely even remembers his name, came from a wonderful conversation with @inversway, and the idea makes me laugh so hard every time I think about it.

ETA: Also put this on AO3, so I have somewhere to put these ficlets that isn't just tumblr! I'm grimly clinging on to this blue hellsite like a obstinate barnacle to the hull of the Titanic, but I do realize it's not the best place to archive uh anything lol

[rotten-games]

City of Immortals RO List

Okay so here it is, the list of ROs like I promised. Both mc's have their own pool of love interests to choose from with little overlap.

Here you’ll get a description of the ROs and some information on how the mc or others might view them. Also some info on the mc’s.

Mc1

Born to be a soldier by design, they were afflicted with immortality and stopped aging entirely once they hit thirty. A side effect—or perhaps a feature—is the beast that all but lives inside them, taking control when they feel incredibly strong emotions, though most often when anger is present. Where once they held full control of it, of the transformation they go through, now they must wrestle with its control with each passing day.

You are what’s called a Hunter. Every settlement has them, but Eden has the most. Caroline controls all her hunters from Eden, though ‘Hunter’ may be a bit of an oversimplification of the job description. Yes, one of their main jobs is providing food and other resources for the settlement, but they’re also bounty hunters, keepers of the peace, and are also often recruited for odd jobs when they have no contracts to fill. Perhaps the most important rule in Hunting, is that you always work in pairs.

Caroline: She/her

The best way to describe Carol is ‘short’, with a pair of unblinking amber eyes and a wind-buffeted, naturally tanned complexion. Her russet curls, while  usually out of her face, never seem to stay tied back for long, a seemingly constant slew of curls sticking to her forehead. A jagged scar cuts across the knuckles on her right hand.

Caroline is unrelenting. She knows what her settlement needs and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get it—to save the lives of those she must oversee she is willing to do anything. Within reason. Truthfully, Caroline never asked to be made the leader of Eden, the job just sort of fell into her lap one day and no one bothered to take it from her. You’ve worked for her for years by the start of chapter one, and if you’ve learned anything about her it’s that she doesn’t do smalltalk. She’s been in a relationship with Lowrie for years now, and as far as you can tell, they’re very happy with one another.

Lowrie: non-binary, they/them pronouns

Impossibly tall and scrawny, Lowrie’s skin is constantly burned red by the sun, seemingly unable to tan no matter what they do. Their face is long, with ash-coloured, shoulder-length hair that would usually hide their grey eyes but is otherwise kept out of their face with a blue-patterned scarf.

Some have called Lowrie stuck up in the past for their less than talkative nature but that would be an oversimplification. In truth, they just aren’t fond of talking—which is probably why they get on with Harley so well—and more shy than anything else. One of Eden’s finest Hunters, they spend most of their time in the sweltering heat of Wasteland bringing bandits in and shooting any of the mangy beasts that stray too close to Eden. The rest of their time is spent managing the bar with Caroline and Harley, tending to keep to themself. You’ve worked with Lowrie in the past, and as far as you can tell there’s little love lost between the two of you. 

Carol + Lowrie poly:

Caroline and Lowrie are poly and in a committed relationship with one another. They will not leave one another for monogamy with mc, however, you don’t have to be in a throuple with them—though that’s definitely on the table—you can simply be with one, who is with both you and the other. Lowrie is also currently casually seeing Harley. Carol is not seeing anyone else.

Mordred: he/him.

With a seemingly constant fuzz along his jaw, and a never-ending supply of little scars littering his warm olive skin, his hair tends to cover everything but his yellow eyes and the deep bags underneath. His hair is typically tied into a loose bun at the back of his head, mostly obscuring his pierced, slightly pointed ears.

Mordred is a hot-headed, easily irritated young man who’s been by your side since day one. You dragged yourselves out of the crumbling ruins of Ledala together, you fought together, and now you work together as Hunters. Partner’s in crime doesn’t quite cover your relationship but it’s certainly close. In recent years, however, your relationship has strained—perhaps it’s due to past mistakes getting in the way, or past feelings, but either way at the start of the book he’s nowhere to be found.

At the start of the game you can determine just what your relationship is with him—it’s strained at this point but the reasons why are totally up to you. He can also potentially have been an old flame of MC2.

Ridley: Gender variable

Ridley is an energetic person with a pair of bright green eyes constantly sparkling with a glint of adventure. Despite their heavily-muscled frame, they seem to constantly be hiding behind their oversized glasses, a veil of their shaggy red hair, and a slouch that makes them out to be much smaller than they are.

Ridley is… an enigma. While technically a Hunter, they seem much more interested in the pursuits of science and research than holding off rabid beasts with nothing but a gun that’s falling apart and a rusty sword. Of course, they can hold their own well enough, but when they’re meant to be spending their time training or helping out—and indeed, even on their time off—they’re usually found traipsing around in the desert looking for… who knows what.

Doc: She/her

Doc is stocky and sharp-jawed, dark brown, almost black eyes always watching. Her dense curls are shoulder-length and appear twisted together and held back behind her head. The tip of her left ear appears to have been torn off somehow.

Not known for her bedside manner, Doc travels between settlements to tend to the sick, injured, and broken, and though none can particularly vouch for her interpersonal skills (though who can say anyone has particularly good ones, these days?), they can certainly do so for her medicinal accomplishments. Some think her a wandering ghost, aiding those who need help to make up for the sins of her past, others simply see her as a woman seeking to do her part for the good of Wasteland, regardless, if you get on her bad side she’s been known to be liberal with her gun. Or so the rumors say.

J. Allard: Gender variable

Allard is a nervous-looking, shifty individual with short but messy brown hair flecked with grey. Constantly fidgeting with the ring on their thumb, their stutter becomes more obvious the more nervous they are. Though their eyes hide behind a pair of darkened glasses, a pallid face a week out from its last wash they are, completely, honest. Trust me.

J. Allard is a totally normal priest. There is nothing strange about them, they simply want what is best for you and your companions.

Mc2

Dragged down into the depths of the earth on the day Ledala fell, you never knew of the city beneath the surface. Your sibling died that day, you’re sure of it, and a part of you died with them—the beast no longer responds to your call and you’re still left injured from whatever afflicted you and your comrades that day. The man who saved you set you to work for him—sorry, with him—and now you walk perpetually in the darkness of a city long since forgotten by the sun, with people named after the remnants of an old world you never knew existed. You were never meant to survive that night, and every day the world around you reminds you of that.

Arthur: he/him

Arthur doesn’t look quite there half the time. His skin is translucent, his pale blue eyes impossibly far away, platinum blond hair little more than wispy strands atop his head. Most of his body is otherwise covered completely by that old, brown coat of his. There’s light freckling across his nose.

Arthur saved you that night. A Private Investigator by trade, he brought you on to work together because you had no where else to go. Maybe because of it you should be closer than you are but there’s always been a distance between you he’s been unwilling to cross. Either way, despite working together—living together—he keeps to himself and you try to keep to yourself in turn. Still, you can’t help but notice the disdain he has for the City Council and their lackeys.

Perci: she/her

Perci is constantly smiling. Relaxed of posture, her straight hair once ashy brown is now dyed silver. It’s cut short at the sides and back, creating an undercut, most of her fringe tucked behind her ears to reveal a pair of dark brown, monolid eyes. She seems allergic to sleeves, taking whatever chance she gets to show off her cybernetic arm and the colourful tattoos that adorn her flesh arm.

A friend of Arthur who sometimes helps with investigations. She’s friendlier than he is with you, even inviting you out on occasion, but rebellion is on her lips more and more nowadays, and she isn’t subtle about it. You haven’t seen her in quite a while—as far as you can tell she and Arthur aren’t on speaking terms anymore after that big fight they had a few months back. As far as you can tell, she’s moved on and you certainly wouldn’t blame her if she has Council dogs on her heels.

Saga: Saga is always the same gender as your mc is.

Saga’s hair is a deep blue in colour, their black roots just barely growing through. Half of their head is shaved, the other half left chest-length and braided over their shoulder. Though their entire body seems to interwoven with tech, what is perhaps most interesting about them is the angular tattoo that crawls down the right side of their face. This is probably why they come to you completely covered in muck and baggy clothing.

Saga shows up at your door with a different name and a job. You aren’t given why, only the how, only the what. They’re stubborn and flighty in equal measure, suspicious of everyone around them including yourself. Oh, they dress the part of a street rat well, but the cash they have just on hand is nothing to blink at and, underneath all that grime, their skin is perfectly unmarred by the ravages of time.

Deimos: he/him, gay

Whether or not Deimos’ strength is his own or from borrowed, military-grade tech is anyone’s guess, but no one’s ever bothered to ask. Though he’s tall, he isn’t necessarily as muscular as the fear he commands would suggest. His eyes glow orange, black hair trimmed but not maintained, and his grin is enough to stop anyone in their tracks. For whatever reason, he always wears warm clothes.

Deimos is a Council dog who’s been hounding Arthur for a few years now. You’ve never officially met him; somehow whenever he drops into the office you always manage to be out. Whether that’s coincidence or because Arthur sends you out on errands very conveniently at those times it’s not for you to say. Somehow, he never seems to do too much damage to your colleague.

Adrastea: Non-binary, they/them or she/her pronouns, only attracted to nb or female mc’s

Adrastea has been voted the city’s most attractive person many years in a row now. Everything about them is perfect; perfect smile, perfect blue eyes, perfect cascading coils of iridescent hair, yet somehow despite their well-calculated appearance it’s like there’s a tiger waiting to pounce on any wary admirer who comes too close.

While not a member of the council they hold great sway simply by virtue of their age and the fact they’re so beloved by the populace. You’ve seen them on the holos, how they’re oh, so giving to the needy and even invite the commonfolk to their lavish parties all the important council members attend. It’s an act, it has to be; through their gorgeous smile and all those sheer dresses they seek nothing if not attention. A lot of their history is shrouded and deleted from public record, but you do know that they were once a head scientist that took part in the very same project that supposedly made you what you are today.

Dagda: gender variable

Dagda is the perfectly attractive face everyone sees on their screens every night. In a world of cybernetic bodies and unnaturally bright lights, they are the one person who almost looks... natural. With a perfectly cultivated appearance of salt and pepper hair, soulful brown eyes, and that winning smile, nothing about them is their own; everything they do exactly what everyone else tells them to do.

The mouthpiece of the Council, Dagda is seen to be charming and down to earth in the vids. They say Ledala is prospering more than it has in decades, that the crime rates are lowering thanks to the wonderful work they and their colleagues on the Council are doing. Of course, there always has been a certain emptiness behind their eyes. When the camera isn’t rolling, you wonder what they really think.

[smoulderingocean]

Osblaine Week Day 2: Headcanons

My list is long (though far from exhaustive haha- I could really go on forever), so it's under the cut. May we be blessed with more details in the future so we don't have to keep headcanoning them.

Holly is left-handed, just like her Uncle Josh. Nick is deeply moved by this small connection they share, feeling as if Josh lives on in her.

Nick and Holly's birthdays are both in February and are just a few days apart, with Nick's birthday coming just three days after hers. To him she is the greatest possible gift that he could ever receive. And the closeness of their birthdays has a deeper meaning too- his Mum and Josh had August birthdays that were just a few days apart.

Nick's family couldn't always afford it because money was tight and it was hard to get time off of work, but every couple of years they tried to visit Mackinac Island for a week in August to celebrate those August birthdays. Those handful of summer visits are among Nick's most cherished memories because it was the only time that his family was truly happy.

Growing up Nick was really close to his Mum. She was a very gentle, kind, and sweet person, and raised Nick to be the same. She was the head and heart of their household. When she died the Blaine family fell apart. Nick's father and Josh both struggled to function, falling deep into a pit of depression and spiralling further after they were laid off. Seeing no other alternative, Nick, himself deeply depressed, stepped up and tried to fill her place. He never felt like he was enough, because no one could ever replace his Mum.

Because he took on the head of the household role at a very young age, Nick's natural caretaking personality grew stronger, something that follows him for the rest of his life and is part of why he is such a good partner and father.

June sleeps cold while Nick sleeps hot. One night, very early on into their relationship, Nick wakes and looks over at June. He can tell from her face that she is cold and not entirely able to relax enough to sleep more deeply and get enough rest. So Nick gets out of bed and gathers his spare blanket from his trunk, tucking it carefully around her. After a few minutes, he sees June relax and fall more deeply asleep. When she awakens a couple hours later, very well-rested, she is deeply moved by the simple gesture. A gesture that hadn't been given to her in years. From then on Nick has the extra blanket out for her wrap up in. It's unspoken, but to both of them that blanket belongs to her.

Nick is a night owl while June is a morning person. This dichotomy works really well within their relationship as it allows for balance. In the mornings June wakes up early and goes for her run, then gets the kids up and going while Nick makes breakfast. Then at night Nick puts the kids to bed and stays up later than June to read, listen to music, watch tv, or just sit on the balcony and relax.

June enjoys the mornings because they're a new start, while Nick has a harder time with them because getting everyone up and going and out to where they need to be means they'll be apart for most of the day. Meanwhile Nick enjoys nights more because it's a winding down- the family is together and able to spend some quality moments with each other. At night Nick is most able to take care of everyone; there are no burdens or expectations, just love. The nights are peaceful and calming for him. For June, the nights are challenging because she finds it difficult to wind down- she enjoys being busy and being on the go, and the nighttime family rituals are the opposite. Together, Nick and June manage to balance each other out- June's drive and energy get Nick going in the mornings while Nick's tenderness and unwavering support help June wind down and relax at night.

Together, they sleep really well because they feel safe and so their subconsciouses are able to let go and relax. Without the other they struggle to get enough rest.

Nick is the cuddler of the two and really craves those moments in their relationship. The quiet warmth and comfort means so much to him and it's what he really looks forward to each night because he feels safe and loved.

One of June's favourite things to do is to watch Nick read. She finds it -the glasses and the lips pursed in concentration and the emotions on his face- incredibly sexy and she often finds herself unable to resist temptation and ends up distracting him, which Nick enjoys immensely. Nick also knows that she finds the whole thing erotic and so he puts himself into situations where he knows June will notice just what he's doing.

When they were living at the Waterford house, Nick never had to say that June was welcome to read his books, the acknowledgement that she was free to choose went unspoken between them because Nick knew that she didn't need his permission and June knew that she didn't have to ask; it was a natural thing because his apartment is was close to a home that she had in Gilead (he's her home) and so those books were as much hers as they were his.

In the Boston Globe they finally got to spend a lot of real downtime together. There they found many books, dvds, and cds that had been long-banned, left forgotten in the hastily abandoned office tower. In their free hours together they got to be a normal couple. In those hours they found that they both had an unapologetic love for Harry Potter and they enjoyed getting into enthusiastic debates about the subject. (Also, they both agreed that Nick is a Hufflepuff and June is a Gryffindor.) June loves Friends, while Nick teases her that it was before his time and that he preferred Glee, which June hated because she thought the singing was terrible. Both share a love for boy bands, with Nick's music tastes being more varied than June's and he introduces her to many good songs. Both are avid readers, but June is especially and Nick reads each and every book she hands to him.

Together they learn all sorts of things that accompany a normal, happy relationship; June can't cook worth a damn while Nick is skilled at batch meals like soups, stews, and chili. Nick loves coffee and tea equally (he's especially fond of a good Hong Kong-style milk tea, the kind his mother use to make) while June is exclusively a coffee person. Nick's favourite chore to do is laundry and June is amazed to find out that he'd often take the laundry off of Rita's hands whenever he could as she despised it. Meanwhile June's preferred chore is doing the dishes, because she doesn't contribute by and so she likes to do her bit by washing up.

In the Boston Globe, Nick finds a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and reads it in its entirety, an action that makes June cry from emotion.

While in the Boston Globe, Nick does everything he can to fulfil June's pregnancy cravings, including trading his valuable illicit liquor for her beloved Twinkies. He loved being able to do that for her because it made her smile and Nick lived for those smiles.

Both Nick and June share a commonality of being bookworms as children, a trait that they pass down onto Holly. Their favourite weekend family activity is a trip to the library.

June was in the 'in' crowd in school while Nick was more of a loner and was very quiet. June ran track and was on the swim team, and was good enough to get a partial scholarship to a good school where she majored in English. Nick never played any sports (though like all good Detroit boys, was a big hockey fan and knows how to skate, and Nick's parents, especially his father, were such big fans that they gave their sons hockey-related middle names- Joshua Gordon [after Gordie Howe] and Nicholas Stanley [after the Stanley Cup]) but he excelled at English and social studies. He couldn't afford to go to university, something that broke his father's heart as he wanted to give Nick the chance to go that he never got. (Josh meanwhile, was very artistic and was particularly good at photography- one of Nick's prized possessions is a print of one of Josh's photos. Like Nick, he couldn't afford to go to school.)

After getting into Canada together after getting Hannah out of Gilead, June and Nick and their family move from Toronto to Kelowna, finding great comfort in the mountains and also appreciating that it helps Hannah recover from what she's lived through as the mountains are comforting and familiar to her.

My biggest crack headcanon is that Nick and June have the same blood type (O+) and it was Nick's blood that was donated to help June after her haemorrhage. Nick volunteered and this action was seen as so good and so 'godly' that it was a small element in pushing Nick further up the ladder. He knew this, but selflessly gave her his blood anyway, because it was the only way he could help.