#but i still think it feels at home in magic

[luveline]

so i had this silly thought the other night while i was doing a mud mask of jack stumbling upon reader (could be bombshell r, hotchner r, or whoever u would like <3) doing a mud mask and not quite understanding what it is (although r tries to explain it to him), and later on jack’s teacher tells aaron that jack and/or his friends were trying to apply mud to their faces at recess to ‘help their skin’ 😭 so then r has to clarify that u can’t just put any mud on ur face haha and maybe she offers to get some face masks for her and jack (and maybe aaron?) to try together <3 i know this is a bit of a silly idea and it may be too specific so ofc no pressure at all if this doesn’t inspire u!! u write aaron (and jack!) so well and i love everything u put out jade thank u for sharing ur writing with us <333

-💫

“Y/N, what the heck are you doing?” 

You wrinkle your nose at him. “What kind of language is that, babe? What would your daddy say if he heard you saying that?” 

Jack doesn’t even pretend to act chastened. If there’s one thing Jack Hotchner knows about you, it’s that you’re wrapped around his little finger, forever and always. It’s all you can do to keep your arms to yourself as he crawls into bed next to you. 

“Is that cucumber?” 

“Want some?” you ask. 

Jack takes a piece of cucumber and munches on it with a wet snap. “Your face has mud on it.” 

“It does.” 

“Why?” 

You peek at him through one eye. “It apparently draws out the impurities in my face. I’m not sure how it happens, but it makes my skin feel really soft when I wash it off.” 

“Oh. But it’s mud.”

“Yeah, it is, I don’t know how it happens. Must be magic.” You love Jack’s little face. He’s cute. His hair is still blonde at the ends, last bits of summer clinging to him, a tan on his pert nose. “Would you wanna try it?” 

“How long does it have to be on?” 

“About ten minutes. Or before it dries. We wash it off with a face towel.” 

“Okay. But just a little bit.” 

“Sure, babe. You can tell me if it’s too much.” 

Jack sits in front of your lap. You unscrew the pot of clay mask and use the small spreader it comes with to scoop up the mask. Cold, you whisper, but Jack giggles anyways, startled at the feeling as you smooth it over his forehead, his cheeks, and his round chin. You use your fingertips to connect the sections, colour in his nose, and smooth it out. Jack lets his eyes close in little-kid bliss, like he might fall asleep. 

“Do you want the cucumbers on your eyes?” you ask. 

“For relaxing?”

“Yeah, they’re cold too.” 

He lays back on Aaron's side of the bed and you plop on his cucumbers. Fifteen minutes later you encourage him into the bathroom to wash it away, holding his chin, warm, clay-stained water running down his neck. He insists on returning the favour, which ends in you squeezing his cheeks to tell him you love him, which makes him fluster like his father at the receiving end of a good compliment. “I love you too,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor. 

“Feel how soft your cheek is,” you say. 

“I think you have to wash your face,” he says back. “Sorry.” 

It’s great. By the time Aaron’s home from work you’re both super soft and while you don’t offer any explanation, he seems to notice, lackadaisical finger against Jack's cheek prompting an inquisitive, “Jack, have you been in Y/N’s shower stuff again?” 

“No.” 

You and Jack decide to keep your relaxing afternoon a secret. You think nothing of it for a while. The next time you use your clay mask he’s sleeping at his Aunt Jess’, and Aaron asks why you’re smiling, so you tell a half truth and say you’re thinking of Jack, which makes Aaron so smiley he tries to kiss you despite the mud.

Another few days and you get Jack back, only to give him over to school. Evil school. You and Aaron go to work. It’s some time nearing 1PM when Aaron steps out of his office, buttoning his coat around his neck. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask over Emily’s head. 

Morgan copies your frown. 

“Hotch?” 

“Jack is in trouble at school. Apparently he got into a play-fight and everyone needs a change of clothes.” He gives you a look, as if to say, you gotta love him. And you really do. “I’ll be back before the end of lunch.”

“I can go?” you offer. 

“I’m already wearing my coat.” He leans over to kiss your cheek and bids you goodbye. 

You don’t see your partner again. When he fails to turn up after lunch, you figure he’s taken Jack home —Jack tends to get upset when bad stuff happens at school even if he was just having fun because of his astounding guilty conscience. Aaron texts you not long before you’re due to start worrying with a simple, Sorry, not going to make it back in today. Jack was a bit upset. 

Your boss isn’t there, so you take a session with your coworkers, standing up at your desk and clearing your throat. “Because my boss is my boyfriend and also not here, I’ve decided to bring my query to the court.” 

You wait. Your team looks at you expectantly. 

“Go ahead,” Derek says. 

“Jack was so upset at school that he had to go home. Do I, as his almost step mom and number one fan, have the group's permission to go home now so I can get him cookies from Ben’s?” 

“Aw, he was upset?” Emily says, frowning but also cooing. 

You hold your heart. “I know. He’s such a sweetheart. So, can I go?” 

“You want us to do your consultations?” Spencer asks. 

“No!” you say, tucking a stray curl behind Spencer’s ear and delighting in the way he shoves you away. He’s laughing as he does it, used to your affection. “You can if you want to, handsome, but I was just gonna finish it tonight on Aaron’s computer.”

“Just go,” Morgan says, rolling his eyes. 

“Family emergency,” Emily agrees. 

“Don’t really do my consults,” you tell Spencer, grinning when he waves you off. 

You make a pit stop at Ben’s for praline filled cookies and smile despite yourself the whole way home. You’re not worried about Jack, he has his dad, and it was only dirt, you’re just excited to see him and to ditch work and to maybe, maybe, lay your head in Aaron’s lap sometime soon. He strokes the skin behind your ear and leans down to kiss you whenever he feels like it, which means you can amass upwards of five kisses an hour. It’s elastic. 

“Babe?” you call, knocking open the door with a clatter. Shoes wait for you at the entryway. You leave your kitten heels by light up sketchers and dress shoes neatly lined. “Honey? Angel?” 

“Are you talking to me?” Aaron calls from the door of the kitchen, suddenly in view. 

“Am I in trouble?” you ask. 

Aaron checks his watch. “Oh, definitely.” 

“Personal paid time off?” 

“Sure. What’s in the bag?” 

“Oh, you know, just something special for the baby. Is he okay?” 

“He’s unhappy with me, truth be told.” 

“Why’s that?” 

Aaron holds your gaze. “Weirdly, I think you might have a better idea of the situation than I do.” 

You follow him back into the kitchen, confused and eager for an explanation. Jack’s at the door that leads to your backyard, sitting on the stoop, looking stroppy and tired and relieved to see you, which is nice. “Hey,” you say, “what’s with the frowny face, beautiful?” 

“Dad doesn’t believe me.” 

“Doesn’t believe you about what?” 

“Me and Adrian was putting mud on our faces at school because it makes us soft, like we did, but dad doesn’t think we did it.” 

“We did,” you say immediately, giving Aaron a soft, honest look, not mad at anyone and not sure where the confusion is coming from, “you’ve seen my masks, honey.” 

“Your clay mask is blue,” Aaron says. 

“Is not!” Jack says. “It’s red just like mud!” 

“Well, when me and Jack did a mask together a couple of weeks ago, it was the red one, but it was a new one. I usually use that blue one,” you say, relieved when Aaron begins to look amused rather than slightly annoyed. “It’s my fault, babe.” 

You turn to Jack. “Baby,” you say, trying your best to look serious and kind at once, “the clay mask we did together is called a mud mask, and it does have mud in it, but it’s not like the mud at school, okay? It’s probably not a good idea for you and Adrian to rub it on yourselves.” 

Jack crosses his arms in front of him, slouching. “Well, how was I s’posed to know that?” he asks, sounding about as angry as he ever gets, which isn’t much. 

Aaron sighs deeply. You’re sure you’re in for it, you’ve wasted half of everyone’s day now ‘cos you didn’t explain a simple concept, but then he says, “You love to exclude me, the both of you.” 

“What?” you ask, gasping through a laugh. 

“Doing things together and not telling me!” he insists. “If you’d let me join in, I wouldn’t have upset Jack today because I’d know why he was playing in the mud.” 

You hold his gaze, refusing to break as his smile grows and grows despite the effort he pulls into staying straight. 

“So I’m not in trouble?” Jack asks. 

Aaron smiles. “Don’t think so, Jackers, not unless you did something I don’t know about.” 

“I didn’t!” 

“Then consider yourself innocent. I’m sorry I didn’t understand you.” 

“I’m sorry for not explaining the difference,” you add. 

Jack looks at both of you, all sunny-eyed, ready to be coddled by somebody and without a favourite. “Okay, thank you. It’s not your fault you didn’t know, dad. And it’s okay about the explaining,” he says to you seriously. ”Explaining is hard.” 

Jack encroaches back into the room now he’s believed, reaching for Aaron’s legs, markedly pleased when his dad bends down to hug him. It’s an apology cuddle, but it also checks for resentment or sadness alike. Jack closes his eyes, alright with how things have worked out. 

You feel ever so slightly excluded, but you do your best to stay still, loyally waiting your turn, and rewarded handsomely when Jack finishes hugging his dad and crowds you instead, arms held up insistently. There’s no protesting when you lift him onto the counter for a better hug. When you say sorry again for technically getting him into trouble, he shakes his head. 

“Just an accident,” he says, in the tenor of a practised line, one of Aaron’s mantras sinking in. 

“Can I make it up to you? We won’t exclude dad this time.” 

Jack gets lifted from one counter to another. You let him eat one of his cookies in the bathroom (and despite his face mask) but wrinkle your nose at the idea, his dad beside him, leaning back, tie undone and t-shirt unbuttoned to the third. The slice of undershirt on display makes your week. 

Completely still as he is, you raise yourself up to draw the face mask onto Aaron’s cheeks and forehead. He laughs like Jack did at the cold, more of a giggle, but he doesn’t move. 

“It does feel like mud,” Aaron says. 

“I told you,” Jack says. There’s cookie crumbs stuck in the mask around his mouth. 

You kiss Aaron chastely. 

“Just wait for how soft this is gonna make your skin,” you say. 

“I think my skin is as soft as it’s going to get, but thank you, honey.”

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for @wimble_warcrime

Request: So basically, I was thinking of a disgustingly cute fluff piece about a werewolf and his mate going on a winter vacation a month before his mate is due to give birth to his litter. It's like a last hurrah before their family dynamic is changed forever, and they want to spend it alone. But (!), things don't go as planned, and she's forced into labour (after a particularly rowdy round in the sheets), and their also stranded in the middle of nowhere in the log cabin because of a sudden blizzard. So, werehubby and her have to deal with the birth alone, without pain meds or power.

A/N: I hope this meets your expectations, I changed it a lil bit and added power to the mix so there was someone not panicking. It was very interesting to write. :)

Cabin surprise

Werewolf x fem!reader || sfw (mainly), found family feels || tw: pregnancy, labor

When you first arrived to the cabin, everything felt so new and cozy that you felt instantly at home, it was like you could inhale the peace around you, the woods, solitude, the chirps of the birds outside… And your werewolf husband cursing because he kicked a rock while carrying your bags. Typical.

You tried not to laugh, but when you looked back and saw him looking at the rock as if it personally offended him, you let out a soft chuckle. He looked up, eyebrows furrowed and a scowl on his face, but as soon as your eyes met, it disappeared. His face broke into the biggest smile possible, his ears twitching like they did when he was excited.

Staring at him from the porch of the cabin, hand resting on your very big belly and a soft smile as you looked at him. It was just the epitome of relaxing situation. He walked to you in a rush, not caring that he probably kicked a few more rocks in his way. He was a werewolf on a mission, and his mission was you.

He hugged you with his free arm, squeezing you to his side as he walked inside. “Come on darling, let’s get you settled and then I can rub your feet.”

“I don’t need you to do that,” you tried to argue instantly.

He looked down, faking annoyance. “I know. But I want to.”

He had been more than helpful since you found out you were pregnant. Well, since he sniffed your neck and informed you that you were going to be parents. That was a weird breakfast. But it was magical at the same time, he looked so excited his tail didn’t stop wriggling from side to side for hours. Literal hours wriggling his tail, and his ears twitching in excitement every time he looked at you. His excitement had died down a tiny bit, but he was still over the moon about the baby. Or at least he acted like it.

You had the suspicion that what he really liked was seeing you round with his babies, he fucked you harder than ever, being careful not to put too much pressure or weight on your belly, but fucking you until your arms and legs were trembling and you were drenched in his come, your stomach and pussy messy as he marked you over and over.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ear every time it happened, too. He told you how much he enjoyed seeing you full of his cub, how he wanted to keep you full of come so you would smell like him forever… And you lapped it up. You lived for the attention, he was hornier than ever, and that helped a lot with your crazy pregnancy hormones that made you want to jump him every single second you had available.

And good lord if he complied with that.

He didn’t leave any of your desires without fulfillment. You wanted to be fucked raw doggy-style until your body was sore? Done. You wanted to suck his dick until he was crying and begging? Done. You wanted strawberries and cream out of season? Don’t worry darling, he would drive three towns over until he found them.

And right now, you knew full well what you wanted. And that was to be ravaged by your werewolf. “Come here,” you told him, eyes hooded and a primal hunger boiling inside of you.

His smirk was knowing as he approached, lowering his head enough to kiss your waiting lips. You deepened the kiss instantly, grabbing his hair and pulling until he was whimpering against your lips and grabbing your ass, pulling you up and walking you to the room.

And once again… he complied with all your desires.

But when you woke up a couple hours later, soreness wasn’t the first thing you felt, but the agonizing pain of contractions. Fuck. You were in so much trouble. You could hear the wind outside, which wasn’t a good sign.

You tried to remain calm as your brain freaked out completely. “Honey. Honey, wake up. I think we need to go.” He mumbled something in his sleep, and you turned to his sleeping form and hit him right in the chest. “Wake the fuck up, the baby is coming!” You snapped.

He stood up in one fast movement, looking around in confusion. “What?!” He was blinking rapidly, as if he could stop being sleepy if he did that.

You stared right back at him, but when another contraction hit, you squeezed his arm until he winced. “I have contractions. The baby is coming.”

Instant panic. “But… But we aren’t ready. We don’t have the stuff and… and. Hospital. We need to get to the hospital.” You looked at him and pointed at the window, which was obscured by the dark clouds outside and the huge amount of snow falling. That fact hit him harder than you expected. “There’s a fucking storm outside, we can’t go to the hospital. Shit. Shit. Shit. What do we do? What do I do?”

You breathed hard, trying to collect yourself. “Honey, I need you to calm down, and go get some supplies. We can do this together, okay? We can.” You reminded him. “Say it,” it was an order between clenched teeth.

“We can do this,” he repeated, breathing deeply and looking at you with a hint of desperation.

You looked at him, nodding shortly. “Okay. You aren’t going to pass out right?” You were sure he would hold strong, but at that moment you really needed him to be on fucking alert.

He looked offended. “What? No!”

“Okay. Go get towels and clean water and all those stuff they get in movies,” you instructed.

He got everything he could as you tried to remember all the things they taught you in parenting classes, how to breathe, what to do when the worst pain hit… All that things that at the moment felt a bit stupid but right now were saving you from panicking.

But then your amazing husband returned, he had the best idea ever. “Let me call the Alpha, she will know what to do.” You nodded, squeezing his hand until he whined at the next contraction.

He talked in hushed tones as the Alpha told him some stuff you couldn’t pick. Your brain was entirely focused on the pain and the way your lower body was starting to feel too heavy.

“Okay, okay… Darling, I got you. I got you. Alpha is going to walk us thru’ it, okay? She’s done it a thousand times with wolves in the pack, right?” You nodded, looking at him with tears in your eyes. He looked panicked still, but a lot more collected. “We can get through this. And then we’ll have a beautiful baby that will look a perfect mix between you and me, okay? You want that right?” You nodded again, a single tear leaving your eye as he helped you into a better position.

Step by step he followed what the Alpha was saying on the speaker, never stopping giving you encouragement and compliments. How good you were doing, how pretty you looked even when you felt like shit, how much he loved you… And with each word and each contraction, you felt a bit lighter, a bit better. And when the time to push arrived, he held your hand as he guided you through it.

And when you thought your body couldn’t hold anymore, when you thought you were about to die because of the pain… Then you heard a cry.

You opened your eyes enough to see a ball of fur and soft human skin on your husband’s arms, smiling down at him like he’s the most precious thing he’d ever seen. And you can understand why. Because he is. He’s the most precious baby. Delivery wasn’t over, but the rest flew by in a few seconds (or you thought there were seconds) because you knew your baby boy was okay and well…

You were breathing hard, body completely spent, when your husband approached you, already clean and with a bundle of covers on his arms. “You did it, darling.” He kissed your forehead. “You did so good, look at him, he’s so beautiful. Looks just like you…” He passed you the baby and you couldn’t hold back the tears. He looked so perfect, his tiny pointy ears twitching at the sound of your voice, and his nose scrunching as you booped him. He was… perfect.

The next morning you woke up feeling more than soreness, your whole body hurting but with a delicious smell of pancakes and bacon arriving from the kitchen. You wanted to get up, but before you could, your beautiful werewolf was walking back into the room, a plate full of food in one hand, and your beautiful baby in the other.

“The whole pack is here to help, the ran through the blizzard to get here,” he told you with tears in his eyes. You were a lot more sensitive than him at the moment, so the contained tears weren’t your reaction. You started to sob very loudly, alerting the whole pack who entered the room in a panic.

You found yourself half naked in bed, with your whole family looking at you with love and understanding in their eyes…

You did good. Both of you did perfect.

[cbuumbbles]

[Decode Pt. 2] Self-Aware! Caleb x fem!reader

CW: Smut, this shits gonna get freakyyy, 18+ MDNI. (Contains: egregious squirting, vaginal fisting, cunnilingus, unrealistic belly bulge, HES GOT A HUGE PENIS GUYS, so many orgasms, water breaks to stay hydrated, size kink ??, def hand kink, dacryphilia, misuse of evol, drooling, choking, tummy appreciation in missionary, breeding kink too possibly?? not really, but maybe if you squint, idk if I’m missing anything else w/ out spoiling). SORRY FOR THIS LAUNDRY LIST. I got carried away :p

Summary: You and Caleb had been dating for a while now and your needs couldn't be more met than they are with him.

A/N: Hi people! If you haven't read part 1, go read it! Part 1 is not freaky btw. This is my second time writing for this godforsaken website. So I still don't know how to make it look fancy. Bare with me. Anywho! I hope you enjoy, this is my first time in a long time writing smut, so if it's bad, just tell me nicely so I can fix it. Also sorry this took so long to get out after part 1, I have had 0 time to write.

Part 1

Caleb had finally convinced you to quit your job so he could take care of you full time. You loved the time off, he made sure to pamper you too. Your nails were always done, hair trimmed, and your back massaged. When he wasn't home, you started having to get creative with ways to entertain yourself. He had bought you a vibrator a while back which helped entertain you until he got home. You'd think it'd wear you out by the time he got home, but something inside of you was like an insatiable beast that needed to jump on Caleb as soon as he got home from work. Caleb loved every second of it, he loved giving you as much pleasure as you wanted. If you thought you were spoiled before you got together, you haven't seen anything yet. Caleb would do anything you asked him to, and you've asked him to do a lot. He's always happy to oblige and eager to please you. Being able to code anything about your reality was a life saver. Since he knew what you liked, he coded himself to be able to give you the maximum amount of pleasure you'd ever want. He was also surprised about how you weren't completely dehydrated all of the time, but he made sure you drank plenty of water, even having water breaks in the middle of sex to keep you from passing out.

Right now, you were using your vibrator on your shared bed, waiting for Caleb to come home. All you could think about was how good it's gonna feel once you start feeling his fingers filling you up. You started to imagine his fingers teasing your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it around. His thick fingers were something you drooled over every time you saw them, they were perfect and all you could picture in your mind when you saw them was how nice they feel pumping inside of you. The vivid fantasies started to feel real when you swear you can feel his fingers start to slip inside of your dripping pussy. They felt so real that you opened your eyes to find Caleb, home from work. "Hi princess, I'm home." He whispers, smiling at you while his fingers were pulling squelching sounds from you. It was embarrassing how wet he could get you. But he knew all of the places he needed to get to in order for you to get undone on his fingers. He bent down, using his tongue to lap up some of the mess you were making. "Always taste amazin', pretty." He praised you. You were moaning in response, unable to form proper words. But that's how he always had you, it was like magic. He could melt your mind in an instant with just his fingers, something he was extremely proud of. All you could say was 'more' and 'Caleb,' it was like a mantra. He sticks another finger in, making it a total of three, but he knew you could handle the whole fist tonight, you were sopping. The spot under you was drenched in your squirt. He loved how messy you were and that he was the only one who could get you to that point.

"I- close, Caleb 'm close." You hurried out, he kept his same pace as you felt the white hot pleasure building in your stomach. The journey to the orgasm was almost as pleasurable as letting go, maybe it was because you knew what was about to happen.

"Come on, angel, come on my fingers." He coaxed, his words being the final push that sends you over the edge. You moan and whine out his name as you feel your pussy pulse around his fingers, squeezing them in. As you ride out your high on his fingers, the feeling fades and you start working yourself up again. He adds another finger, making it four and you feel amazing, on cloud nine. The water works were going everywhere and you couldn't shut your mouth, as hard as you tried. You were making a mess of Caleb, thankfully he undressed himself before starting in on you, you could see drops of your squirt on his chest which made you incredibly more horny somehow. "You're doing so good, takin' me so well, pretty. You think you can handle the whole fist now?" He asked. All you could do was nod your head fervently. "I wanna hear your words baby, think you can do that for me, or are you too fucked out to speak?" He knew the answer, anything past three and you were completely melted. "My dumb little angel forgot how to speak. You're lucky I know you so well, I know exactly what you need." He coos, adding the last finger. You could feel him reaching every possible spot he needed to, his fingers stretching you out and getting you ready for his cock. You felt that familiar feeling start building up again as you suck in his fingers subconsciously. He could tell you were getting close by the way your walls were spasming around his hand. "You're so greedy with my fingers baby, it's makin' me jealous. You're taking me so well, pretty. Getting all stretched out for what's coming later. Gettin' so wet for me, you're drenching the bed. You're doing such a good job, princess. Come all over my fingers." He spoke, all of his praises going straight to your core as you felt that burning hot feeling again.

"Caleb, Caleb, Caleb." You repeated in quick succession, you could feel your release rapidly approaching.

"That's it, come on, angel. Let yourself go, beautiful." He says. His encouraging words help you focus on getting to your release and when you finally snap, it's just as intense as last time. You pulse around his fist and your legs start shaking. You know that tomorrow will have to be a recovery day for, the night is still long from over. "Let me get a taste, baby. Can you sit up for me?" He asks, you try your hardest, able to get to your knees. Your brain was fried and all you cared about was getting more. He handed you your water as you took slow sips, learning not to chug it all at once by now. "Sweet girl, that feel better?" He asks, taking the water back to set it down, as you nod your head. He lays down on the bed and you know exactly what he wants. You hover yourself above his head, staring down at him through tired lids. He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto his face, he moans in pleasure as a response. "So good, angel. Taste so good." He moans into your pussy, using his tongue to fuck your hole while his nose was rubbing into your clit. You couldn't help your hands traveling down to his head to push him up further into you, using your hips to grind on his face. You were so spoiled, using his face like this, but he loved every second of it. You tasted tart which reminded him of his favorite fruits. You could hear him sucking everywhere he could get his mouth on, it felt so good. You desuctioned yourself from Caleb's mouth, with a wet plop and a whine from him, to turn around to put your hands on his chest. Now he was nose deep in your pussy and his tongue was working on your clit. You fucked his nose, hearing the sound of labored breathing through his muffled mouth. You saw his hips buck up into the air as he was holding you down on his face like a vice.

You just tasted too good, the remnants of squirt still coating your sex. His moans were deep with a heavy vibration that you felt throughout your entire body. It was enough to have you heaving for air as you got closer to your third release, from him, that night. He began sucking on your clit, tonguing it while the pressure from the suction helped get you off. The suction started building your release as you started getting desperate for release. "Please Caleb. I need it so so so bad." You beg, it coming out labored from how little you could focus on anything other than releasing on his face. The sounds of his muffled moaning mixed with the wet sounds coming from both of you were what you focused on to finally snap and pulse your cunt onto his face. You could hear his muffled praises from underneath you as he worked you through your third orgasm of the night.

He lifted you off of his face and flipped your positions with ease. You think you're finally ready for his dick, but he has other plans. "I'm not done tasting you yet. I didn't get nearly enough time with that gorgeous pussy in my face." He said, your slick coating and dripping off his face. He dips his head between your legs again and starts his attack on your sensitive bud again. You jolt in response from how sensitive you were. You felt like you had nothing more to give, but every time Caleb would start up again, you'd be proven wrong. There was a battle in your mind. You wanted to go to bed for the night, but you also wanted every single orgasm he was about to give you. You buck up into his face, grabbing his head to push it down into you, but your hands are pulled from him and held by an invisible force. You whine, trying to fight his evol holding you down. "If you weren't so greedy, I wouldn't have to keep your hands above your head." He comments, looking at you while sticking two fingers in your hole. You gasped, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. His fingers were pushing against your gummy walls, hitting every spot with a precision that made you favor fingers over anything else. Caleb knew your preference and made sure to spoil you. You felt him go back to sucking on your clit, still pumping his fingers into you. It was like he was the conductor of the most beautiful sounding symphony and you didn't want it to end. Everything was so overwhelming that you couldn't help but beg, but you didn't know what you were begging for. Caleb loved hearing your pleading voice repeating his name. He loved breaking your mind with pleasure. There wasn't a time that the sex you had together didn't end up in you becoming a drooling mess. You tasted amazing, he couldn't get over it. If they made a drink inspired by you, he'd drink it every day. He couldn't get enough of you, because, just like him, he is just as insatiable as you are. He'd eat you out all night if he you'd last without passing out. You definitely last longer now, you're able to have more orgasms in one session. You used to get wiped out after two, but he's trained you to go to four. Tonight he wants to try for six, he knows you're ready, that you're so good for him. His tongue wouldn't relent, keeping a sickening, steady pace that made your mind swim with thoughts that were nothing but Caleb. The combination of everything with the steady pace he was keeping and his moans into your sex made the feeling start to build up again. Your moaning turned into whines and whimpers the closer you got to finishing. You could feel tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming amount of times you've came and you didn't know what number Caleb planned on stopping at. He loved making you orgasm, it was one of his favorite things to do. He also loved watching tears roll down your face from how overwhelming the pleasure was.

"Caleb!" You whined out as you were pushed over the edge again, for your forth orgasm. Your breaths were uneven as you tried to come back down. He kept going until you rode out your high, stopping to grab your water again, knowing you'd need it after how much fluid you lost. Again, you sip it, tears drying streaks onto your face, your hair a wild mess from all of the thrashing you were doing and Caleb didn't think there was a prettier sight in the world.

"So pretty baby, such a mess for me. Like a work of art." Caleb was no artist, but he thought that if he were, you'd be his best work. Your chest was heaving as you took in breaths through your nose as you kept sipping the water. Your eyes were closed and you felt ready to fall asleep, but you also craved more. You wanted his cock and thankfully that was the next part of the night. "You ready, angel?" He asked you. You just nodded, handing your water to him with your eyes still closed. "Are you too sleepy?" He asked causing you to groan in protest. He had fucked all of the words out of you. "Alright then, greedy." He narrowed his eyes at you, like a predator with their prey.

You feel his evol moving your legs, folding you in half. Then you felt him hovering over top of you. You open your eyes to see a slice of heaven. His face was glistening with sweat and your juices, same with his chest. You could smell your arousal on him now and it made you realize he had been too busy eating your cunt to even kiss you yet, so you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into one. You can taste yourself on his lips as your tongues meet together, fighting for dominance. Neither won, but the war was still raging. You bit his bottom lip to surprise him. He moaned in response, taking the hint and doing the same thing back. Your fingers were tangled in his hair to try and pull him closer to you because he never seemed close enough. You desperately wanted to wrap your legs around his torso to slam him down onto you, but he still had his evol holding your legs in that stretching position. You whined into the kiss, wanting friction from him so badly. “Please, Caleb. I need you.” You whimpered, looking at him with the most desperate look in your eyes. He couldn’t say no to you, especially not when you were looking at him like that.

You had taken him many times before, but you still needed a pretty big warm up before he could penetrate you. Saying his cock was big was an understatement. It caused a delicious belly bulge every time he’d go in. “Alright honey, I’m gonna start sliding it in.” He warned you. You felt his tip prod at your entrance making you impatiently eager. The first feeling of his cock entering you made you gasp. It was never not shocking to feel how girthy he was. You felt him keep going and you thought he must almost be done by now, until you heard him say. “Tip’s almost in, honey. You’re doing amazing.” And with that a final pop and his tip was officially in. Now the real challenge was being able to take all of him in. You hated leaving some of his dick out; you didn’t think it was fair for some of his dick to have a taste and the other part left in the dust. This is where the previous size training comes in handy. You can handle all of him, it just takes time to get it all in. After that, it’s smooth sailing.

“God, Caleb.” You choke out, eyes going wide at the sensation of how full you were feeling already.

“Don’t tell me you’re already quitting? We’re not even half way yet, angel.” He teases you.

“No, please keep going. Need more.” You muttered, gripping his biceps for dear life. As full as you felt, he was right, you were so greedy. He loved how you always craved so much of him. He was happy to oblige. He kept sliding further into you that you could feel him in unusual places, but you loved it. You craved it. You couldn’t wait to see him poking through your tummy.

“Almost there, love. Doing so well for me. Takin’ me like you were made for me, baby.” His praises made you throb around his dick, which earned a hiss from him. “Careful, princess.” He warns. You feel the last of him bottom out with his balls on your ass. “Did so good for me. Look at that.” He said, forcing your head, with his evol, to look at the bulge he made. The sight literally made you drool. You were shocked it took you this long to start drooling, but the sight before you was delicious. You detangle one of your hands from his hair to press down on it. You both moaned in response. He starts thrusting and you started seeing stars. He went slow at first, like always, to ease you into it. You knew his mercy wouldn’t last for much longer. Instead of begging for a faster pace, you relished in the calm before the storm. That surprised Caleb considering you were usually whining at him at this point. He figured it must’ve been because of how many orgasms you had that night. Still more to come! “Always so tight for me.” Caleb manages to grunt out. He loved missionary because he got to watch your tits bounce up and down. Your cute little tummy made the same bouncing movements too that he loved.

Then he sped up and you were gripping his biceps like a lifeline. Your face was dug into his neck, biting into his shoulder and accidentally drooling on it. Caleb loved witnessing you turn to mush beneath him. It was a feeling he would never get over, he'd do it forever if you'd let him. You looked perfect, your sweat was making your hair stick to your forehead and it gave your skin a beautiful glow. Your flushed cheeks were calling out to him to kiss them. He peppered your cheeks in kisses as you moaned out his name. You felt yourself building to climax again, this was past your limit. You knew you could do more, Caleb always brought it out in you. Your squirt was spraying up from being smacked into, it was a mess. You could tell how much Caleb loved it by the feral sounds he was making paired with the aggressive thrusting. He had you hovering off of the bed now, holding you up with his arms and keeping your thighs at torso level with his evol. He was grunting in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, and other sweet nothings. It helped push you over the edge to the point where you were gripping so hard on his biceps that your fingers turned white and half moons from your fingernails would linger for a couple of days. "Caleb." You whined out, your voice coming out in waves of volume that matched the thrusts he was pounding into you.

"That's it baby, you got it. You're almost done." He said. With every steady, rough thrust, you could feel the build getting faster and faster until eventually it all climaxed and you started pulsing around him, once again. His dick had finally had a taste of your orgasm pulsing around him. It was like you were trying to milk him. He could've came, but he knew he needed to last a little longer to pull that one last sweet orgasm from you. "'m not done yet, princess. Just hold on until I can fill you up." He instructs you, causing you to moan. His pace was relentless and it felt sweet going in and out of you. You were addicted to it at that point, wanting to feel him stuffing your pussy full forever. You'll have to ask if you can cockwarm him sometime soon. He'd obviously agree, but he wouldn't make it easy for you.

He flips you over, using his strength to arch your back and choke you from behind. He used his evol to keep your head back while he stuck two fingers in your mouth. The slight pressure his evol added to your neck was addictive. You sucked and bit down on his fingers, moaning his name. He felt so much bigger from behind that it was almost ridiculous. Your whimpers and whines faded into the distance only to be replaced by viceral moans as he pounded into you with a sickening pace. The noises coming from your sex was like music to your ears. His fingers in your mouth caused you to drool more. Thankfully, you were in the spare bedroom so that way you could change the sheets and clean the mattress and still have a bed to lie down in to get aftercare. Because with the way you were making a mess out of both ends, you'd need a dry place to sleep. "Mmm." You loudly whine, feeling it build up again.

"You almost there again, already?" He teased you. He loved looking at you from behind too. He loved looking at you from any position really. He thought you were the most beautiful angelic person to ever exist. "Come on baby, let's cum together. I'm gonna fill you up." He said as his hands dwared your hips as he began to hold them to slam you back into him. Your tears started up again as they began to stream down your face.

You felt it build up and up and up until it finally spilled over, you spasmed on his cock, feeling impaled. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." You said over and over again like a mantra.

"Fuck baby, I'm cumming." He groaned, pumping his cock into you. You could feel him paint your pulsing walls. It all felt so warming, it could put you to sleep. He pumped his last few times to finish inside of you, pulling out of you and immediately pulling you into him for a much needed hug. "So beautiful and perfect. I love you so much, honey." He said, using the nickname you used to have when you'd fake date. Those same butterflies from back then found their way to your stomach too.

"Mm, love you too... S'much." You muttered out as best you could. You could tell you were fading fast. All you wanted was to fall asleep in his arms while he played with your hair. You also realized how thirsty you were too. "Water?" You asked. He was already one step ahead of you, holding the straw up to your lips. You took sips, making contented sighs as you leaned back into him. This was heaven, you were sure of it. Every day he'd treat your needs as the top priority. You couldn't express how much you truly loved him. It was impossible because there weren't grand enough words to describe it.

"Let's get to bed, baby. You look so tired." He cooed at you, lifting you up and carrying you into your shared bedroom. He laid you down in the bed, going to grab a towel to clean the mess in between your thighs. "You did so well. Six in one session. And that's not even counting the ones you had before I got home. You're so amazing baby. I knew you could do it." He spoke on his way back from the bathroom. He cleaned me and then him, tucking me into the covers and turning on the ceiling fan. He threw the towel in the dirty laundry and finally joined me in bed. By the time he climbed in beside me, I was already half asleep. He turned me around to cuddle me into his chest and I fell asleep with a content smile on my face with his fingers playing with my hair.

[redrose10]

Hey, i’m fairly new to this so idk if I‘m doing this correctly but can I make a request for a story? Yoongi is quite shy with affection so how about an angst/fluff oneshot where the reader is very clingy and affectionate but he doesn’t play into it, because he’s shy and shows his love for them in a different way (acts of service, etc.) They’re together and reader feels hurt/grows distant, thinking they’re making him uncomfortable, but it has a fluffy ending. You can do what you want from this, but I just had that in mind for quite some time:)

Thanks for the request. I hope you like it!

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi’s cheeks have magical healing powers, but you feel too guilty to use them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks

*******************************************************

“Yeah I know they’re driving me crazy any more. They’re always touching me and grabbing me and pulling me in different directions. I think they squeezed my cheeks like twelve times in a span of ten minutes. I know….yeah I know…this was a mistake. I just wish they would back off a little you know. Sometimes I regret ever getting involved with them.”

That conversation you had accidentally overheard your boyfriend having with his brother on the phone haunted you for the last month. Overthinking every little movement became the new normal for you.

Yoongi would come home from work. Normally you would run and jump into his arms peppering kisses all over his cheeks. But as you replayed those moments in your head you realized he rarely ever kissed you back, you would hardly even call it a hug. It was more of a way to hold you there just so you didn’t end up dropping to the floor. So now when he came home you would simply greet him with a smile, maybe a light shoulder squeeze if he seemed in a particularly good mood.

While cooking dinner you always had your arms wrapped around his waist. Sometimes you would talk about your day. Most times you would just sway along to a melody he hummed. Now you were suddenly aware of how he’d flinch every time you snaked your arms around him. He’d stand tense until finally giving in and relaxing under your touch. Now he was standing at the stove tending to a steak so you focused on keeping up with the dishes and setting the table instead of holding him close.

Gone were the days of holding hands. There were no more goodbye kisses. No good morning kisses followed by jokes about your horrible morning breath. No massages, no cuddles, no running your fingers through his hair.

But every morning your coffee was made and your lunch was packed. At night when you got out of the shower your towel had been in the dryer and was neatly folded on the counter and still warm while your pajamas were laid out on the bed. Every Sunday there was a fresh bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table. One day you forgot your umbrella at home and of course it started pouring. The office secretary placed it on your desk saying Yoongi dropped it off in a rush so he couldn’t stay to talk, but he still got it there. When you texted Yoongi asking if there were any painkillers in the cabinet for your headache so you knew if you needed to stop on your way home he said there was a bottle. When you got home there was a cup of tea, the painkillers, and your favorite dinner waiting on the kitchen counter, a receipt for the medicine just purchased today was in the trash. But there was still something that didn’t feel quite right between the two of you.

The worst of it was always at night. For the last three years you had been together you had grown accustomed to falling asleep safe and warm and comfy in his arms. It all started a year into your relationship when one night you had a particularly bad panic attack. The first one he had witnessed. Softly he pulled you close against him whispering comforting words while stroking the top of your head. It was the fastest you had ever been able to recover from an attack. Over time the panic attacks slowly subsided. So that became your favorite way to fall asleep. You never really asked him. You just always managed to squeeze your way into his arms. Of course he never fought it. He wasn’t that type of person. Three weeks ago he mentioned getting the best sleep he had in a long time. That was the first night you had forced yourself not to crawl into his arms. You felt guilty for causing him so many restless nights of sleep before that.

Then tonight as you laid in bed facing the opposite way from him you couldn’t help but start to feel terrible about everything. You had been selfish. You knew from the start that Yoongi was not super affectionate in a physical sense. He didn’t mind a kiss here or there or some hand holding to help you get through a crowd, but you were definitely more into physical affection than he was. The more you thought about it you started to feel awful because you had been forcing it on him all these years. Thinking that since you were in a long term relationship that it was okay even if it wasn’t like him.

But it wasn’t okay and judging by the phone call with his brother he was getting tired of it..tired of you.

So you need to apologize…

But what if it’s too late…

What if he’s completely done with you…

He’s going to break up with you…

It’s all your fault…

He hates you…

You ruined this relationship…

The room felt like it was spinning and your heart was beating too fast. You couldn’t catch your breath and you could feel tears begin to fall. You tried to shake the thoughts, but they kept coming and getting more intense. This was normally the time you would snuggle in closer to Yoongi and he would reluctantly squeeze you tight and remind you of your breathing exercises. But he was fast asleep unaware of the turmoil you were going through. Not wanting to wake him you gently scooted out of the bed and headed for the kitchen. But once there it all became too much. You started crying and shaking, hyperventilating. The simple task of warming up some milk all of a sudden seemed like moving mountains. So instead you sat at the kitchen table trying to control your breathing. You focused on the cars driving by on the street below, counting them as they went as a way of distraction.

You were on only on your seventh car when Yoongi walked into the kitchen. His hair ruffled and tshirt loosely hanging off his shoulder. He flipped the switch on the wall and squinted at the bright lights. Silently he got to work warming up a cup of milk. Once it was the perfect temperature he poured it into your favorite mug. It had a picture of a cat playing the piano. It reminded you of Yoongi. You started to cry harder again.

He sat in the chair next to you without saying anything. He took your hands and placed them on his cheeks encouraging you to squish them like your own personal stress balls. One of the very few and very rare things he did to initiate physical touch between you two. He saved it for moments like this when he knew you were really struggling. You told him once that his cheeks had magical powers or something because they always brightened your day.

But for the first time you didn’t follow through on the action. You couldn’t. You cringed thinking about all the times you had made him uncomfortable by doing things like that.

“Y/N, talk to me. Please.”, he whispered setting your hands down, but not letting go.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I’m so sorry for being selfish.”, you sniffled.

He chuckled, “I’m gonna need more of an explanation than that.”

Finally you looked up at him and you could see the tenderness in his eyes, but it was also mixed with fear.

“I’m sorry I’m so annoying. I’m sorry I’m always hanging on you and touching you and squishing your cheeks. I can change. Please give me a chance. Please don’t leave me.”, you cried.

“Y/N”, he sighed, “Is this…Is this why you’ve been so distant lately?”

You nodded feeling another round of tears forming.

Yoongi grabbed your hands pulling you onto his lap, something he’d never done before.

“Y/N, I’m not the most affectionate person. I never have be and even though I try I probably never will be. I prefer to show you how much I love you through words or by my actions. But I know that you are very much a touchy kind of person and that is okay. I love that about you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have spent the last three years madly in love with you. I look forward to coming home and you running into my arms. Sometimes I’m not sure who is more excited to see me, you or Holly.”, he chuckled, “I love when we cook together and my favorite time is at night when you’re wrapped in my arms and I know that that you’re warm and comfy and safe. I don’t want any of that to change. I don’t want you to change Y/N. I love you just how you are and the last month has been killing me, but I knew you’d either work it out on your own or come to me when you were ready. I didn’t want to rush you.

It was too much to hold off any more and you wrapped your arms around his neck instantly melting into him.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi. I overheard you telling your brother how you were tired of me and you regretted getting together with me and I panicked, but I should’ve talked to you first instead of getting in my head.”

“What? Conversation with my brother? I never said anything about ooohhhhh.”, he said before his eyes widen at the realization. He helped you up and started dragging you to the bedroom, “Don’t worry about that. It will all make sense soon.”

Two weeks later it was your anniversary. You had just walked into the living room expecting to find Yoongi in the kitchen or maybe his studio after not hearing from him for the last few hours, but instead he was in the middle of the room surrounded by roses while down on one knee and with a slightly shaky hand he was holding open a small black velvet box. “Y/N, I love you more than I ever thought possible. I didn’t know love like this could even really exist. I want this forever and ever and ever. I want all the kisses and hugs and affection from you. Will you marry me?”, he asked. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”, you exclaimed bouncing up and down before pulling him up off of the floor and into a kiss. He slipped the ring on your finger watching you admire the sparkle.

“Do you like it?”, he asked and you nodded, “Of course! It’s gorgeous.”

“Good because uh this was what I was talking to my brother about that day.” You looked up at him confused. He continued, “A few months ago I asked my mom for help picking out a ring. She got really excited and wanted to make sure you got the perfect one you deserved so she took me to every single jewelry store she could find and was constantly grabbing me and pulling me to look at different rings. Then she got my Aunt involved and then they got your mom to come along and then your Aunt was there and then they asked your best friend. Next thing I knew I had a whole group of people grabbing me and dragging me all over the stores. One saying look at this one. Then another one saying no get this one. My mom kept squishing my cheeks asking if I was planning to look like a boiled dumpling on my wedding day. It was a lot.”, he sighed, “So that day on the phone I was complaining to my brother about it. He gave me the number to his jeweler and I just bought the ring that way. I couldn’t go to one more store with them. I know they meant well, but I was going to loose it if my cheeks got squished one more time in the middle of a mall somewhere.”

The relief you felt was immense.

“Yeah, but your dumpling cheeks are just so cute though.”, you giggled already happily squishing them together. He feigned annoyance, but when you tried to pull away he quickly grabbed your hands placing them back on his cheeks so you could continue.

“This is the life you’ve chosen.”, you laughed pointing at the ring on your finger.

His smile grew, “Yep, these cheeks are yours forever and ever babe.”

[lsunstreakerl]

part six of the maxiel corporate au! 2.1k words, alternating max POV and daniel POV.

there's actually not any explicit content here- it's a little bit more plot focused.

Max needs to get out of bed. He needs to get up, and shower, and eat something- but he's been thinking that on a loop for a few hours now, and still hasn't done anything.

He's not sure why he feels so off, but it's made him burrow further into the bed, wrapping his arms around one of his pillows, holding it to his chest.

He feels-

He's not sure. He's sore, and he's a little bit sad for no discernible reason. Last night had been good, even if Max doesn't distinctly remember the later part of the night- doesn't remember getting home, just knows he'd woken up with a sore ass and legs, work clothes dropped on the floor, wearing unfamiliar sweatpants.

He remembers the car ride, going into Daniel's condo- remembers his legs being held apart, Daniel's fingers inside of him- but after he'd started actually getting fucked is where things get hazy.

Waking up to a text from Scarlett letting him know he's got the day off had been confusing, and then mortifying, but Max is glad for it now- he doesn't think he'd do very good work today, not with the way he's feeling.

Normally he's one of the first ones to leave from his complex's floor. He knows that because their walls are paper thin, and they can all hear each other when someone drops something and swears. There's four of them on Max's floor- him and Rico have been here the longest, neighbors since their first year of uni. Martin moved in a few months after Max and Rico, and Isack is the newest- the baby of the floor, moved in last year as he started uni.

Max normally leaves first. Max also never misses work. He knows it, and he knows they know it too, which is why he's not terribly surprised when there's a knock on his door.

He doesn't want to get up and open it.

There's a few rattles of the handle, and then the somewhat familiar metallic noise of Rico just using his own key.

They'd figured out they had the same lock a few months into being neighbors after a drunken mishap, and now they're friends, so there's been no reason to change that.

Max lifts his head as he hears the front door open and shut. His flat isn't huge- a studio- so it only takes a moment for Rico to poke his head around the corner.

He always looks like a behemoth next to Max's things, but he's reassuring at the moment, green eyes watching Max with concern.

"Hey."

Max presses his lips together, dropping his head back onto the pillow.

"Hi."

Rico toes his shoes off as he makes his way over, snagging the Playstation controllers, and then he's poking at Max's side until he rolls, making space on the bed for Rico to crawl in next to him.

He settles, and then he's wrapping an arm around Max, pulling him into his side.

"FIFA?"

This is why Max and Rico are friends.

"FIFA."

------

Daniel is chewing on the end of his pencil when Blake walks in. He's carrying a chair, which means he's got something Daniel actually needs to pay attention to.

"Sir Friend, how can I assist you?"

Blake sets the chair down heavy on the floor, dropping into it across from Daniel.

"I think Netco is lying about their earnings somewhere- but I've had me and my people on it all damn day and we can't figure out where."

That's... not the kind of thing Daniel likes to hear.

"Well shit. What do you need from me?"

Blake's spinning his own pencil between his fingers, letting it drag over his knuckles.

"You mean you can't just magically figure it out? What are CEO's even for?"

Daniel laughs, leaning back in his chair.

"I mean, I could ask them point blank if they're lying, but..."

Blake snorts.

"I get the impression they wouldn't come clean now."

Daniel frowns. He's trying to think, looking back on his most recent meetings. Everyone's been friendly, but no one's been suspicious.

Oh, on that note-

"Damn, I guess that means that discrepancy didn't go anywhere then."

Blake pauses, pencil stilling.

"What discrepancy."

"Uh, the one Max mentioned? A couple days ago."

Blake makes a face.

"And it was up here, so obviously you didn't fucking ask him about it- Daniel, you can be infuriating sometimes. No, I didn't even know there was a discrepancy- that could be genuinely useful, you horny cunt."

Daniel holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"I assumed you guys were all on the same page!"

Blake pinches the bridge of his nose, breathes out a long sigh.

"Clearly not. Can you call him in?"

"Blake, mate, I gave him the day off. Be pretty shit of me to call him in."

Blake narrows his eyes.

"Be even shitter to get stuck in a bad deal. Think with your brain and not your dick, please."

Daniel makes a face, but he's clicking around, getting into Max's file to find his cell number.

He makes sure to punch it in correctly, and it rings for a moment. It's the late afternoon by now- Max should be fine.

"Max Verstappen's phone, can I take a message?"

Daniel's brain freezes. It's a male voice, deep and accented.

Thankfully, he's been doing this for so many years now that despite the fact that his brain is stalling, his mouth still works.

"This is Daniel Ricciardo- who am I speaking with?"

"Rico Verhoeven."

Daniel scrawls the name down absentmindedly.

"Hello Rico. Is Max available? It's a bit urgent."

"He can be- one moment."

Daniel catches the sound of some shuffling, and then for a moment he wonders if he's having a stroke- but it's just the faint murmurs of another language. He faintly hears Max on the end, a mumbled 'Rico?' That sounds soft and sleepy.

Daniel's not going to think about it.

There's another moment of shuffling, and then the phone is picked up again.

"This is Max speaking."

He still sounds drowsy, but it's definitely Max this time.

"Hey Max, it's Daniel. What'd you end up doing with that report the other day, with the merger discrepancy you mentioned?"

Max makes a sleepy hum.

"The copy stayed with you, sir. But I have a backup on my desktop I could reprint, if you need it."

"That would be great- do you need me to call you a car?"

"Uh- one second sir."

More soft murmurs- it's the other language again.

"I have a ride. I will be there in twenty minutes."

Daniel's grip on his pencil tightens for a moment.

"Sounds great. Tell Rico I said thanks- and he's more than welcome to come in and say hi."

Blake is giving him a very clear "what the fuck, Daniel" face, but he chooses to ignore it.

"Oh, uh- thank you sir. I will let him know you offered."

"See you in a few, Maxy."

Daniel hangs up, and Blake is arching an eyebrow at him.

"What the fuck, Daniel?"

------

It only takes Rico and Max fifteen minutes to arrive- Daniel and Blake are up on the fourth floor again, near the walkway. It has a good vantage point to the entryway on the ground level.

Daniel is lazily watching the door, but it's Blake that spots them first- chokes on a half laugh and then pats Daniel's shoulder consolingly.

"There's your fucking competition mate, jesus."

Daniel's eyes dart to the door, and then widen comically. There is a giant standing next to Max.

A very built giant. Max is tiny next to him- and he's chatting enthusiastically about something, hands having half the conversation for him.

Rico is listening patiently as they start taking the stairs, content to let Max talk regarding whatever it is he's on about.

Daniel doesn't get intimidated easily- it's something you get over quick, as a CEO- but Rico...

The man looks like he can fight. Max hadn't mentioned any kind of boyfriend- and he'd both claimed to be and behaved like a virgin last night- but Daniel isn't interested in "accidentally" running into Rico in an alleyway.

Max is walking today far better than Daniel had expected him to, though he's not in business casual- just jeans and a quarter zip. He spots Blake and waves, and then when he sees Daniel his cheeks heat up, head ducking slightly.

Blake elbows him gently when they both straighten up as Max and Rico get closer.

"Nice knowing ya, Dan."

"Shut up."

Max crosses the walkway, and Rico seems even bigger in person, towers head and shoulders above the others.

Blake, brave man, steps forward first.

"Max, thank you so much for coming in on your day off- I appreciate it."

Max flashes him a smile, stepping around him to log onto the monitor.

"It is no problem."

Blake extends his hand to Rico.

"You must be Rico- I'm Blake Friend, CFO. This is Daniel Ricciardo, CEO."

Rico shakes his hand, and then turns to take Daniel's, and there's a brief moment where he wonders if his life is about to flash in front of his eyes.

Rico's gaze lingers on him for a moment. He has intense green eyes, and Daniel gets the distinct feeling that he isn't very impressed.

"I appreciate you offering to bring to Max in- that was kind of you."

Rico sets his hands in his pockets.

"It is of course not a problem, to help Max."

Max makes a cooing noise from behind the computer, shooting a grin at Rico. It's startlingly bright, more real than anything Daniel has seen from him before- it scrunches his eyes up.

"Aw, Rico- don't be sappy."

Rico just smiles back at him.

There's the sound of the printer starting up, and Max logs out, looking over at Daniel and Blake.

"I have it set to reprint the report and the more detailed logs for the incidents I was looking at, if you wanted those also."

Daniel didn't even know there were detailed logs.

"Thank you, Max. We appreciate that. Enjoy the rest of your day off, yeah?"

Max nods- still can't quite meet his eyes, and Daniel would normally find that cute- and it is- but Rico's presence makes him hesitate to tease.

"It was no problem, sir."

Blake exchanges a few more pleasantries with them both as Daniel gathers the reports off of the printer, and then the two of them are leaving.

Blake turns back to Daniel.

"That man is fucking terrifying, mate."

Daniel makes a face.

"Tell me about it."

------

Rico is nice enough to wait until they're back in the car before he opens his mouth.

"This is why are you sad."

Max busies himself organizing the spare change in the cup holders.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Rico makes a disbelieving noise.

"Really? You wouldn't get out of bed, couldn't walk straight until we did stretches, and now the man that you've been calling 'sir' over the phone- you can't even look him in the eyes."

Max crumples a stray straw wrapper into a small ball.

"Those things can be unrelated."

"But they aren't, are they? You got fucked by your boss."

Rico pauses.

"Your CEO."

"Okay, I know it sounds bad-"

"That's because it is, Max."

"-but it is not as terrible as it sounds. It was very good, actually."

Rico drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

"He thinks I'm your boyfriend, by the way."

Max squeaks.

"What?"

Rico is laughing, broad hand reaching over to tangle in Max's hair. It's nothing like when Daniel does it- Rico's hand is broad where Daniel's is narrow, fingers wide where Daniel's are thin.

"Yes, he definitely does. I answered your phone and drove you in- he absolutely thinks we are together."

Max makes a very obvious glance to Rico's lap.

"Mate, we could not be together. There is a variety of reasons, but especially that one."

It takes two seconds of silence before they're both giggling. Max has seen Rico's dick before- there was an unfortunate month where the pipes would randomly stop working, so they'd swapped showers a few times- and Max can now say, having had sex, that Rico is too fucking big.

"Have fun getting that cleared up."

Max winces. He doesn't want to think about it- he's perfectly content to make that a tomorrow problem.

Rico puts the car in park, but he turns to look at Max, rests a hand on his arm.

"If he does something, or you want out, or anything- just tell me, yes? We will figure it out."

Max reaches over the center console to hug him, arms wrapping around his sides. He's always felt protected with Rico- he can practically hide in his shadow.

He knows he can rely on Rico, but what he's got going on with Daniel- whatever it's called- isn't bad. Just new.

"Thank you."

Rico squeezes him tighter.

"Anytime."

[waterdeepwife]

Gale Domestic Headcanons

Pairing: Gale x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Gale and Tav/Reader are married, both negative and positive headcanons of loving this nerd, typos, NSFW INCLUDED AT THE END, Gale loves you so very much, I think that’s all?

Living with Gale in his tower definitely takes some getting used to. Especially for him since he is so used to being alone, but he also has to help you adjust to him and his domestic habits.

Bossy- I can definitely see Gale being a little bossy when you first move in together, but only when it comes to where stuff goes. He has a chaotic system and he knows where everything goes, so why are you trying to move stuff around? No he doesn’t want all the potion bottles in the same section, they are separate based on size and what he uses them for.

He tells you where everything goes and expects you to just get used to his system. Even when it’s a mess and things are where they shouldn’t be. Which leads me to my next point…

Messy- Gale is messy. Books, potions and magical artifacts are everywhere. There’s a stack of books in the bathroom. Old potions sitting among the spices in the kitchen. A glowing, strange looking magical item sitting on the night stand. No, don’t move it he wants it there.

I can see him being the type of guy that leaves piles of clothes everywhere, he hates doing laundry and would rather magic them clean and away when it gets too much. Laundry would definitely be one of your chores in the tower.

I think dishes would be a shared chore. As he often has half empty cups of tea or water, and even glasses of wine EVERYWHERE. Especially stacked up in his study, if you just finished dishes and he brings more in. Gale will give you a sheepish look and says he will handle it.

Work Habits- Gale loves you and would never fully ignore you, but he can get wrapped up in his work. Both from research as a wizard and also papers to grade as a professor. All of these things can make him come to bet later then you’d like him too. I feel like this if the biggest ‘flaw’ he actively tried to change, or balance out. If Gale sees you sad or missing him he will find ways to fix the issue. Do you like to sleep in the mornings? He will get early get some work done, then go make breakfast for you to wake up to. If you are an early bird? He will wake up with you, spend all morning with you and giving you attention before going to work.

Cooking- I don’t think Gale would want to share the ‘chore’ of cooking. LET HIM COOK FOR YOU. I feel like this can go along with his bossy and pompous attitude, he knows what he is doing. He knows what he likes and what you like, so just let him pamper you. Feeding you is another one of Gale’s love languages. He thinks he is the best damn cook in the world, next to his mother of course. If you pout enough he will let you help him make dinner, but he still wants to do most of the work.

Provider- Gale is completely devoted to you, he loves you and wants to show you how much he loves you. Now this can come in different forms depending on the marriage you want with him. He can be the ‘breadwinner’ and you can stay home, or you can both be the breadwinner. I think Gale would favor being the breadwinner because he can spoil you and come home to you, but if you want something different he is happy to adjust. I don’t think he’d ever be the stay at home type, because he truly does love teaching the kiddos, and I think he’d get bored.

Gale was rich before you met him, so money will never be an issue for you guys. Which is why he offers to let you stay home if you wish, but he just wants you happy. He isn’t the type of man to be “this is my money!” No it’s money he is bringing home to you, to support and care for you. So he gives you free rein, unless you have spending problem (like me lmao), then he will be a bit more active in controlling finances.

He loves you, but do you really need three different versions of the same thing? (Like dresses, jewelry, or whatever you are into idk).

Affectionate- Gale is very affectionate, and that only amplifies when you two settle down. He always gives you kisses everywhere; lips, forehead, cheek, hand, and even neck when he tries to get you riled up. Hugs every time he sees you, even picking you up and spinning you around for a moment. Gale’s favorite thing is when you are in the sitting room, your legs in his lap as he reads to you with the fire crackling.

Obviously he will respect your personal space, whenever you need it. Especially if you need some time alone, he understands. Gale prefers to be together all the time, but he knows you need breaks sometimes.

Considerate- As soon as you accept his proposal he is already planning things back in Waterdeep. He wants to make sure you feel right at home as soon you walk in! As you two begin the journey to Waterdeep, Gale puts his plans in action without you even knowing! It’s supposed to be a surprise! When you finally get to his tower you find that some of things has been moved to make room for your things! In the closet in the bedroom is some dresses/clothes that is exactly your style. Gale knows you, what you like, and how you like to dress. He feels so proud of himself when he sees how happy you are! When you ask him how he did it he simply says “magic!” And refuses to explain further.

Spoiler alert: the visits from Tara weren’t just visits, Gale was asking her and his mother to help make preparations for you.

NSFW BELOW.

Sex is almost daily. Now that you are in the privacy of his tower he will have his fill of you every day. Gale wants to make you scream his name, since you had to be quiet back during your adventure.

He still takes his time, reminding you how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, and how lucky he is that you’re his wife now. Gale goes slow and passionate the first night in his tower, knowing there we a thousand more nights of love making to come.

Loves to have sleepy morning sex with you, but sometimes he also just loves to please you with his hands or tongue. I can see you two lying together cuddled up in bed, your hand slowly stroking his cock and his lazily pumps his long fingers in and out of your wet pussy.

You will always come before him, he refuses to let himself come until you do. You are his wife, his everything, your pleasure comes first.

Gale has fucked you everywhere in the tower in every position. Missionary in the bedroom, bent over his desk in the study, riding him in the bathtub, having duplicates of himself pleasuring you on the balcony. He’s dry humped you in the sitting room, you’ve palmed his clothed erection while he cooks dinner.

Begs to eat your pussy every night, even if you’re not up full blown loving making. Your sweet juice is his dessert. If you tell him no he will understand and not push it further, he is a respectful pussy addict.

[achillesuwu]

I can make everything merthur :

Au where Merlin and Arthur are both gods, I would usually say Moon and Sun gods or Healing god and Warrior god BUT I think it would be very interesting to make them War (Merlin) and Peace (Arthur). (Also it could be very interesting if both Arthur’s parents are Love’s Gods unconditional and conditional love kind of deal, and Morgana is a spider god weaving tapestries that show the future. meanwhile Merlin parent’s are Fire’s god and household Goddness because you know often household Goddness are represented by taking care of the fire inside the home but also household’s fire used to destroy whole city— ANYWAY and Gaius is a healing’s god but you know how healing is never perfect you always have consequenc—)

Hem So, MERTHUR

Merlin gave a bond to Guinevere to let her win the war against an illness that has been spreading and is killing her father in exchange for her first born. Meanwhile, Arthur gave a bond to Leon (#spreading my gwen x leon agenda) to start a revolution in the kingdom and allow people to finally be free from the tyrannical king in exchange for his first born.

15 years passes, and well, Guinevere get pregnant but unlike she feared, that giving her first born would be indeed a price she was willing to pay but still a price, she can feel in her womb that something other is growing. It feels more like watching a tree grow than a mortal baby. She is quite glad that her husband and her are both in the same magical predicament and so can understand each other very well on the subject. Not that she really know how it would work but surely gods have pre-established rule on the subject. After all they seems to always be a precedent and they always seems to know more rules that they let on to mortals…

Wrong. There had not been, in fact, any situation akin to this one. Especially not between gods of equal power.

When the day of the ‘birth’ came, the midwives are mostly useless. The silver-skinned child (and by silver I do not mean white but silver) come out like the golden water did, smoothly and abruptly. As soon as the child gave the first cry War’s thunder and Peace’s white cloud could be heard and seen in the sky. And there they were, Peace and War, in the birthing room looking at each other and saying the thing that had be making the heavens and hells alike sigh for millennials

« You— what are YOU doing HERE ? »

Also this is very much the vibe of War & Peace dynamic here but also I made Merlin War because we see in canon that he find it easy, very very easy to destroy things with magic but hard to heal and I think it would be great to put it here. Yes he is War but he is also Gentle and try to do good. Also, yes Arthur is peace but Peace is not suffering under the heels of the Powerful or having a tensed status quo’s, that’s under war’s power. Setting people free and finding way to not turn things into a bloody conflict is his under his watch.

[treviso-nights]

jumping right in to say i think that varric's and shathann's death somewhat serve as mirrors for one another and also the effect it has on rook and taash respectively. whether the player has any affinity or attachment to varric is up to them, however by proxy of his murder, rook inherits responsibility for the veilguard and all that that entails. and despite solas's manipulation via blood magic, rook continues to muse about what varric has taught them throughout the game—in particular i am thinking of their encounters with the inquisitor, who commiserates with rook over lessons learned by their time with varric.

rook: simple as one of varric's morals. 'don't become what you hate.' inquisitor: or 'trapped by what we've lost.' also one of his.

in this scene it's exceedingly clear that the inquisitor knows varric is dead—they look away, they glance down at the table in front of them, etc., whereas rook maintains a neutral, if not playful demeanor. i'm probably reaching here, but i think it would be poetic for this to be rook's subconscious attempting to process his absence in a way which doesn't conflict with the idea that he's truly gone. instead, rook speaks about varric the way varric spoke about everyone else—in allegories. for me, this is rook (subconsciously) mourning + extending a bid for connection to someone who has been most likely been as affected by varric as rook, because i don't think we see rook do this with anyone else. (unless i'm wrong and then pls excuse me while i drown myself.)

when varric's death is finally revealed to rook, they're forced to process both this loss and its implications all at once in the fade-prison because there is zero time to waste, and rook is desperate to get out. and yet, for all intents and purposes, the fade-prison still offers them a pretty comprehensive way to grieve and say goodbye in a way that feels genuinely authentic and final. it's both too fast and not fast enough, with rook weighing the knowledge that they'll have to grieve to escape regret versus needing to escape the fade-prison right fucking now—

—which we see with taash and shathann. we can see taash struggle with the traumatization of watching their mother die in front of them, for them, and then subsequently need to fight the dragon king and his dragon, only for taash to be unable to bring shathann's body back home with them. (both rook and taash are forced to leave varric/shathann's bodies behind, sheeeesh.) and while taash doesn't inherit the responsibility of 'team leader', they do inherit the responsibility of pursuing knowledge about adaars and what they’re historically meant for, knowing that they are a rare and valuable power all the same.

these deaths are obviously not identical. but i keep thinking about the parental figures (and potential parental figures) we see in this game versus the idea of inheritance (in whatever capacity that may be). every companion inherits something by virtue of their arcs (davrin/griffons, bellara/lost cultural information, neve/label of either protector or inspiration of dock town, etc.) but i also can't help but see rook and taash in particular being especially conflated due to the circumstances of that inheritance.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Blood Bound - Part Two 🥀

Vampire!Jey Uso x Black OC

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Josh let out a sigh as he pulled onto the street of his Condo. “Go ahead and say it, Joe.” 

Joe leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, his face unreadable. After a long pause, he spoke, his tone sharp and accusatory. “Why were you giving her your blood?”

Josh cut the engine and turned his head to look at Joe. “After Priest started poking his head around, I had to tell her the truth. And I-I didn’t want to lose her so I did what I had to do, Uce.” 

“You did what you had to? No, you did what you wanted to do. You didn't even think about the consequences Joshua!” 

“She knew! She knew what would happen!” His hands gripped the steering wheel, the tension in his chest rising. “I wasn’t forcing her into anything. She knew the risks. She -” Josh stopped abruptly, his fangs were suddenly sharp against the inside of his lip. He felt the veins starting to grow under his eyes. “Mora.” He whispered, before Joe could say anything, Josh had blurred out of the car. 

His senses honed in on her, the bond between them growing stronger with every second that passed.

He could feel her. Her pain. Her fear.

She’s fading.

24 hours ago

“Yeah, I’ll be home soon. Love you too.”  Josh hung up the phone, his face softening as he stared at the screen for a moment, as though savoring the words then, he slipped the phone into his pocket, shaking his head with a small smile.

Jon, who had been watching him from the other side of the kitchen, raised an eyebrow. “Being in love is a good look on you, twin.”

Josh snorted, but couldn’t stop his smile from growing.  

“Look at him not denying it.” Jon’s wife Trinity interjected as she came into the kitchen and handed her husband a cup of familiar red liquid. The rich, iron-scented blood swirled in the glass, still warm from whatever source she’d gotten it from. “Don’t go breaking her heart now, We actually like this one.” 

Josh chuckled and nodded his head. He liked Simora a lot too, more than he cared to admit out loud. A lot more. There was something about her—the way she made him feel like he wasn’t just a vampire going through the motions of immortality. She had a way of making everything feel more… real. She made him see there was more to human life. With Simora, every moment felt like it had meaning. She made him remember what it was like to want something.

Jon’s teasing grin faded as he saw the shift in Josh’s expression, the quiet intensity that had come over him. “Damn Uce, You really are all in with her, huh?”

Josh met his twin’s gaze, his smile was soft but firm. “Yeah. I am.” 

“Good, we’ve been around for centuries but we still need someone to keep us grounded.” Jon’s voice was soft as he glanced over at Trinity.  She was from a well-known and respected African American coven with a long history of guarding powerful magic and secrets. Jon knew his time with Trinity was limited.  Despite the magic that sustained her, Jon knew that human lifespans weren’t meant to be stretched across centuries. Eventually, he’d lose her; no amount of power or immortality could change that. “Don’t take her for granted,” Jon whispered only for Josh to hear. 

Before Josh could respond, his phone started to ring. The smile was back on his face as he looked at the caller i.d, Jon sucked his teeth. “Man, get on outta here and go home to your girl.” 

Before Josh could respond, his phone started to ring. The smile was back on his face as he looked at the caller i.d, Jon sucked his teeth. “Man, get on outta here and go home to your girl.” 

Josh chuckled and answered the phone. “I told you I was -” 

“JOSH! HELP!”

Present Day

If Josh’s heart was still pumping, it would be hammering in his chest. He wasn’t able to blur up to his apartment because of the humans still lurking around at this hour. He was running as fast as he could with Joe right on his heels. 

He burst through the front door of his apartment, not caring about how the wood split. “Simora!” He called out, his panic rising when he didn’t get a response. 

“Josh?” It was weak and if he weren’t a vampire, he wouldn’t have heard it. He blurred to the hallway by his bedroom and found her sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest. She looked weak. 

“Baby…” He called out, crouching down next to her. She picked her head up to look at him. She was crying. Red tears streamed down her face, her fangs were elongated, and the veins under her eyes were pronounced, dark lines threading outwards like cracks in porcelain. She had “vamped out”.  He ran into his room and came back out holding a blood bag.  “You need to drink, it’s gonna stop the pain, but only temporarily. You need to actually drink from the source to complete the transformation.” 

Simora’s eyes flickered to the blood bag, but her gaze was unfocused, distant. Her lips trembled, caught between fear and hunger, her fangs aching for sustenance. He gently tore the bag open and held it out for her, “Please, you have to drink.” 

She nodded and took the bag from him, her fingers were trembling as she brought the blood up to her lips. 

Joe watched from the sidelines, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He had stayed out of their intimate moment, giving Josh and Simora space. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to that day. The day he had tried to save her and failed. He had been reckless, thinking he could turn someone he loved into a vampire without considering the consequences. He could tell she was apprehensive when he asked if she wanted to be with him forever. He remembered how her eyes had flickered with hesitation, how she had quietly whispered that she wasn’t sure, but for him, she would try. And then, in an instant, it had gone wrong. When she had awoken, she immediately regretted her decision.

The change had been too much for her, too overwhelming. Joe had tried to help, tried to comfort her as her body fought against the transformation, but the damage was done. She hadn’t been ready, and she didn’t want this life. She had begged him to make it stop, to take it all back, but once the curse was upon her, there was no undoing it.

The girl he had loved—the one who had trusted him—was gone.

Joe closed his eyes for a moment, the memory still raw. He had failed her. And now, watching Josh fight to save Simora, he couldn’t help but wonder if the same thing was happening again. He hoped Simora’s love for Josh would be enough to pull her through

Authors Note: poor Joe 💔. I really love writing this story lol. How are you guys liking it?

I'm kinda basing my vampires off of Vampire Diaries and Tru Blood. Just taking some elements from both shows and mixing them together!

I know the chapters are short LMAO but I don't wanna overload them with information.

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[taeyongdoyoung]

kiss from a rose

summary: tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, beauty and the...dragon? pairing: taeyong x reader genre: fantasy, romance warnings: idk, shitty sisters, lowkey death threat, anger issues, wicked ppl, throwing stuff, but overall mild descriptions of violence; the occasional song references in bold hihi author's note: this is jincredibly self-indulgent, just because beauty and the beast is my fave fairy tale and i've been in my taeyong missing hours word count: 4.7k

The roses in the garden are in full bloom, their dark red colour contrasting with the pearl white snow. Unlike your sisters who'd asked your father to bring expensive dresses and fine jewels, you only wanted a rose. So, your father, exhausted from the long journey in the snowstorm, feels like finding this castle is a true miracle. There is warm food, water and wood burning in the fireplace. And not a person in sight. So, as the storm subsides and he is making his way out through the garden, he can't resist the temptation of plucking a singular rose for his favourite daughter. Surely, no one would notice? Only he doesn't realize what a terrible mistake he makes.

Suddenly, he hears a booming roar from somewhere above. A large dragon appears in front of your father, breathing fire from its huge mouth and melting the snow nearby.

"Who dares disrupt my garden?" the dragon asks angrily in a human voice.

"I'm s-sorry, I d-didn't know it was yours," your father explains, terrified for his life. "I only meant to surprise my youngest daughter, I swear. It's the only thing she wants."

The dragon considers this for a brief moment.

"A gift, you say? Very well, I suppose I could spare one rose," the dragon murmurs in a deceivingly calm tone.

"Really? Thank you so much for your generosity, uhh…your greatness."

"Don't thank me just yet. You can have the rose but in return I shall have your daughter who asked for it."

"What? N-no, she's more precious to me than anything. You can keep the rose."

"Too late," the dragon grunts, breathing fire and sends your father running for his life. "If you don't send your daughter here before the sun sets, I will burn your home with your entire family."

Once your father returns home and explains this whole situation, there are two types of reactions. Your sisters are only concerned with the amazing clothing and jewelry your father has brought for them and they don't take his words seriously, saying he was probably hallucinating from being exhausted. You, however, trust your father's story to be truthful. Throughout your life, you've seen and heard things you can't explain, so it makes perfect sense that dragons exist.

"I'll go there, father," you promise. "It is only fair, I'm the one who asked for a rose."

"No, my darling, the dragon could burn you alive or eat you!" your father panics.

"It doesn't matter. If I don't do as he says, he'll kill all of you!"

"We'll think of something, we'll move to live somewhere else," you father tries to dissuade you.

"We don't have enough money for that. Just let me go."

Your father nods reluctantly, not seeing another way out and explains the location of the castle to the best of his abilities.

You run outside and hop on the horse. Luckily, the wise animal remembers his recent adventures and takes you to the castle easily.

You marvel at the sight. The castle is covered in snow and right in front of it is a gorgeous garden with so many roses. These might be your last moments, but it is still a true blessing you got to see such a beautiful view.

As you enter the castle, you are greeted by a similar setting to the one your father saw. Warm meals and red wine, a burning fireplace, fancy plates and candles. It is truly magical. Confused by the welcoming atmosphere, you take a seat. Not daring to eat or wander about without permission, you play with your hands nervously for a while, until finally, the doors of the grand hall open and you see what your father was so scared of. The dragon. He has red scales and his eyes are darker than night itself. Strangely enough, the way the dragon walks in is so…elegant, almost human-like that you barely resist the urge to gasp. Why on earth is this dangerous creature so stunning?

"You came," the dragon remarks.

"Didn't have much of a choice, did I?" you reply hastily before thinking.

"There's always a choice. You could have decided to burn together with your family. Instead, you came here all alone to atone for your father's sin, not knowing what awaits you. Can't tell if you're stupid or selfless."

You shrug.

"I hardly think plucking one rose is a sin, but whatever," you roll your eyes.

"You have no idea what a single rose could achieve," the dragon mutters quietly.

"Explain it to me, then! What do you want with me? Are you going to eat me or what?"

"Sorry to disappoint," the dragon growls. "Not really a huge fan of human meat. I just want to have dinner with you every night."

"Dinner? As in…I am not the dinner?" you keep joking to ease your tension.

"Not unless you try to escape," the dragon warns.

"That sounds doable," you agree easily. "What should I call you?"

"What?" the dragon blinks in surprise. It's been forever since someone asked him that.

"Well, I can't just go around calling you "Mr. Dragon", can I? You must have a name of some sorts."

The dragon nods thoughtfully, not at all sure how it came to this. Why is it so easy to talk to you?

"You can call me Yong," the dragon replies.

"Alright, Yong. I'm Y/N," you introduce yourself, because it seems like the polite thing to do. "I wish we'd met under different circumstances but it is what it is. Let's have dinner."

As you use your fork and knife to eat the delicious meals, you notice the dragon's terrible table manners. He talks like a human and yet he devours the food like an animal, starving and eager to get it over with. You can't help but smile, finding the contrast between his words and actions so amusing.

"What are you smiling about?" Yong hisses.

"Here, let me show you," you take hold of his…what even should you call it? Hand? Paw? Front limb? You have no idea but you try to fit a fork in the space between his claws and guide him gently in an attempt to explain how to use the fork.

"I know how it's done, it's just uncomfortable," Yong snaps at you.

"How do you know?" you ask curiously.

"None of your business," the dragon grunts and for a few moments he tries to appease you by attempting to eat with a fork. But he keeps spilling food, making a mess of everything, and eventually gives up, throwing a couple of dishes on the floor with his enormous limbs.

You flinch involuntarily, taken aback by his violent outburst.

"This is stupid," he growls and leaves the room.

You sigh to yourself in the grand hall when the silence is suddenly interrupted from the most unexpected direction.

"Ugh, finally," the candelabra moans in relief. "I was wondering when he'd leave."

"Don't speak like that of him," the mantel clock scolds the candelabra. "He's trying his best."

"You guys can speak?!" you gasp in surprise. Although…if there is a talking dragon, why can't there be talking objects?!

"Oh, shoot, I forgot we have a guest," the candelabra says. "Nice to meet you, I'm Johnny."

"And I'm Jaehyun," the mantel clock adds. "It's really nice to have some human company around here."

"Uhh, sure, it's nice to meet you, I guess," you blink, still recovering from the shock.

"Don't mind them, sweetheart," the teapot joins the conversation. "Would you like a cup of tea to ease your nerves?"

"Mom, not everything can be fixed with tea," an adorable chipped teacup responds.

"For the hundredth time, Haechan, I'm not your mom! Lovely to meet you, Y/N. I'm Doyoung."

"Wow…the pleasure is all mine," you reply sweetly, although you're not sure pleasure is the right word for what you're currently experiencing. It surely is a lot to take in…

"Go get some sleep, sweetheart," Doyoung the teapot encourages you. "Tomorrow will be better."

"Or not," Haechan the pessimistic teacup chips in.

You shake your head and make your way to your room, following Doyoung's helpful directions. When you close your eyes, despite the overwhelming day you've had, you immediately fall asleep.

As the sun's rays enter your new room, you slowly awake, greeted by the unexpected warmth and the different voices.

"Oh, I can't wait to dress her up! A human girl, can you believe it?" the wardrobe exclaims.

"Shhh, let her sleep," the mirror responds.

"Woof! Woof!" the footstool barks enthusiastically.

"Jungwoo, quit acting like a dog, that joke got old a few years ago!" the mirror scolds the footstool.

You sit up in the bed to meet your new roommates.

"Erm…good morning, everyone," you greet them kindly, because you don't see any other option than to run with it.

"Yes! Time to get you dolled up!" the wardrobe can't wait to turn his fashion dreams into reality. "I'm Yuta."

"I'm Mark," the mirror introduces himself, as well.

"Woof!" the footstool keeps barking.

"And that's Jungwoo," Mark explains. "He's going through his dog phase."

"Uhh, good to know."

"When we're done with you, you'll look so dazzling Yong won't be able keep his eyes off of you," Yuta promises.

"And that is a good thing because…?"

"Oh, right, I forgot you might be scared. But trust me, once you get to know him, he's not that bad."

"I'll be the judge of that," you insist. "But I won't mind some distractions to keep me from thinking about the inevitable dinner."

"We're on it," Mark the mirror vows.

Once your new talking furniture friends are done with your makeover, they fall asleep and you finally get a moment to yourself. You need to investigate, you decide. You can't imagine how hard it is for your father with no one to help him (your sisters aren't very reliable). There's gotta be a way out of this castle, right? To your amazement, your room's door is unlocked and you walk down the corridors, nervously looking around. On the walls there are portraits of people you've never seen before. They look like royalty. One of painted faces has been slashed through with…claws?! What even is this place? Then, you find a massive wooden door, slightly ajar. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you sneak inside the mysterious room. As you walk further, you spot a dim glow. You follow the direction of the light and discover a glass jar by an open window leading to the balcony. Inside it is a single rose. Enchanted by its unusual radiance, you lift the jar, overwhelmed by the urge to touch the plant…

Just as your fingers barely touch the petals, a loud voice interrupts the serenity.

"What are you doing here?" the dragon yells angrily. "What did you do?"

"N-nothing," you mumble awkwardly, putting the bell jar back in its place. "I was just-"

"Get out of here!" the dragon screams madly, "OUT!"

Startled by his wrath, you run out of the room and down the stairs.

"It's dangerous out there, Y/N," Doyoung the teapot tries to stop you.

"I'm not wanted here," you cry out and keep sprinting towards the exit.

"That's not true!" Johnny the candelabra attempts to argue. "We need you!"

"Jungwoo, stop her!" Doyoung says.

Jungwoo the footstool runs in front of you, blocking the exit and starts barking.

"Who's a good puppy?" Jaehyun the mantel clock starts praising Jungwoo.

But Jungwoo's attention span seems limited and suddenly, he's in the mood to play around, jumping excitedly.

"No, not now, bad puppy!" Jaehyun sighs loudly.

But it is too late and in no time, you have gone outside and towards your freedom. Hopping onto the horse, you urge him to go as fast as he can.

Despite the bad weather, you are determined to make a run for it and go deeper into the snowy forest. Looking back to see no one is following you, you think luck is on your side this time around. Barely having had time to think that, you spot a pack of wolves looming in on you. There is a frozen lake nearby and your horse doesn't hesitate to gallop onto the ice. But the weight of you both is too much and the ice starts cracking beneath you. The wolves close in. You get off the horse and urge the loyal animal to reach the safe ground. The wolves have grabbed your clothing and are pulling with all their might. Just then, the ice breaks loudly beneath you and you fall into the freezing cold water.

The shock is so strong but before you manage to panic, you suddenly feel yourself being pulled back onto the surface. He saved you. The dragon. Yong attempts to scare the wolves by breathing fire in their direction. But the fire only manages to melt some of the ice, making it dangerous for you all. The wolves are viciously biting the dragon but the red-scaled beast is doing his best not to actually kill them with fire. Eventually the heat and the dragon's attacks are too much and the wolves scather around in fear.

Yong looks exhausted from the fight and closes his dark eyes, lying helplessly on the ice. This is your chance to get the hell out of here once and for all. But…he came for you when you were in danger. And he looks injured. You can't just leave him like this. But you can't exactly move him back to the castle, either. With a sigh, you kneel next to the dragon.

"We have to get back to the castle," you whisper, daring to touch his blood-red scales. "Yong, please."

He opens his eyes begrudgingly.

"Hop on," Yong suggests.

"What?!" you squeak in shock.

"Too tired to walk," he explains. "We'll fly back to the castle."

You don't find the energy to argue, so you climb on the back of the dragon. Luckily, you didn't manage to make it that far and the castle is only a short flight away. But you can't imagine how hard this must be for Yong. Not only did he rescue you from the ice-cold water and singlehandely fought these vicious wolves, but now he is also flying.

Back in the castle, you are tending to the dragon's wounds to the best of your abilities.

"Ouch, that hurts," he complains loudly with a hiss.

"If you stop moving, it won't hurt that much," you point out gently.

"If you hadn't run away, I wouldn't be injured," Yong replies sassily.

"If you hadn't yelled at me, I wouldn't have run away," you respond.

"If you hadn't sneaked into my room, I wouldn't-"

"My God, I get it," you interrupt him with a huff. "Let's just…try to calm down."

"Alright," Yong finally agrees in a quiet voice.

"Thank you for saving me out there," you whisper softly.

"Yeah, erm…thanks for not letting me fall asleep in the cold."

"It was the least I could do," you shrug. "You…you can fly."

"Duh, these wings aren't just for show," Yong chuckles and you are surprised by how lovely it sounds.

"Show-off," you mumble. "Get some sleep."

"Will I see you at dinner tomorrow?" he asks and you are even more shocked by the vulnerability in his voice. As if there is a possibility you'd try to escape again after what just happened… As if you would say no.

"Sure, you will," you promise and you mean it.

Tomorrow comes sooner than expected and you are amazed by how quickly Yong recovered from his wounds. Just dragon things, you suppose. This time around, you spot him trying to eat politely, even though the fork is not exactly of much help. Honestly, he is kind of cute. Wait, what?!

"You feeling better today?" you ask kindly.

"Much obliged, yes," the dragon replies politely.

Oh. He's…somewhat charming, no?

"Glad to hear that. You know…if it had been under different circumstances, it would have been pretty magical to fly with you."

"I couldn't agree more," Yong laughs.

"It kind of reminded me of reading. It truly transports you to another world."

"You like to read?" the dragon eyes you curiously.

"I love it!" you exclaim, happy to be given the chance to talk about something you're passionate about. As you rant about some of the books you've read before coming here, you are stunned to find Yong listening you intently, his dark eyes warming up to a hazel brown.

"I need to show you something," the dragon finally speaks again.

You follow him with interest as he slides through the corridors. Finally, he stops in front of a door.

"Close your eyes," Yong says.

"Why?" you ask suspiciously.

"Do you trust me?"

"Not particularly," you joke.

"Smart girl," the dragon grunts with amusement. Still, you close your eyes obediently and when he finally tells you to open them, you are stunned by the sight of hundreds, no, thousands of books just standing there in a large library.

"Wow. That's…incredible," you manage.

"You can…come here to read whenever you like," Yong suggests calmly.

"Really?" you look at him, eyes blurring with some foreign emotion you haven't felt before.

"Of course. I haven't had the chance to read since…"

Since what? You want to ask, but are too afraid to do so.

"I can read to you!" you offer boldly.

"Yeah?"

"Sure! I love reading out loud!" you explain.

You don't know what comes over you, but you feel so grateful for this opportunity that you wrap your small arms around the dragon's neck in a spontaneous hug.

"Thank you, Yong! Let's read together!" you mumble.

You might be hallucinating but you swear you see something wet coming out of the dragon's big eyes.

As you sit next to the dragon and read him a magical story about amazing adventures, you can't help but think the reality you found yourself in is an adventure in itself.

The days pass and you realize Yong is far more pleasant to talk to than your first impression. He's a good listener and you can tell he is genuinely interested in what you have to say. He always makes sure the meals are to your liking and the fire is warm enough. You can't imagine how lonely he must have felt in this castle to become so guarded. You grow closer to the talking objects, as well. You spend your time either reading in the huge library, eating in the huge dining hall or looking at the stunning red roses in the huge garden. Despite the fact that you've become somewhat attached to this place and the beings in it, you still miss your father. Even your bratty sisters. You wonder how they're all doing. So, you gather all courage you can possibly have and ask the dragon.

"Can I please see my father? I'm really worried about him," you confess.

"Actually, Mark has a power he may have forgotten to tell you about," Yong admits.

You approach the talking mirror, hoping he would grand your request.

"Mirror Mark on the wall, show us Y/N's father," Yong orders.

Mark the mirror obliges and immediately shows you the image of your father. He is sick in bed with no one to look after him. Your sisters are too busy going to balls in shiny dresses, trying to attract suitors. Your heart can't take it.

"Oh, Yong," you cry out. "Please, please, let me take care of him. Just for a couple of days. I promise I'll come back."

You beg him so ardently with tears in your eyes that Yong cannot find it in himself to refuse. He knows everyone's lives are at stake, not just his. But how could he hurt you even more than he already has?

"Alright. I'll fly you back to your village," the dragon suggests gallantly.

"Thank you so much! I will be forever indebted to you, I swear I'll return as soon as my father gets better."

And indeed, Yong lets you climb on his back once again and flies you to your father's home. However, he does not take into account the fact that dragons, while very powerful and majestic, are not invisible. So, during your flight, a lot of evil-minded people see him and join forces with the wicked intent to kill the dragon…

"Please, come back to the castle before the last petal of the rose falls," Yong gives you a little mirror that has powers akin to Mark's. "Just look at it and ask it to show you the rose."

"What will happen when the last petal falls?" you ask, worried by the urgency of his voice.

"Just…make sure you come back," Yong pleads you to promise, so you do, overwhelmed by the fact he let you go to your father in the first place.

With you tending to your father, he is so overjoyed that his sickness gradually starts leaving his body. Your presence also has an effect on your sisters and they try to be more helpful than before. You are so happy to be back with your family that you almost forget to check the little mirror. Eventually, once your father has recovered, you remember your promise.

"Little mirror, show me the rose," you ask.

The mirror grants your wish and your eyes become large as they witness one single petal barely hanging onto the rose.

"Oh, no," you gasp, even though you are not sure what would happen once it falls. But then you remember the pleading in Yong's voice, his kindness and the talking objects telling you how much they need to you…So, you get on the horse once more and hurry back to the castle.

However, when you get to the castle, you find it surrounded by angry people with weapons. What is happening?!

You manage to sneak in through a secret entrance Yong once showed you that leads to the library. As you anxiously run to the dragon's chambers, you realize he isn't there. The talking objects are suspiciously silent, as if unable to speak. Was it all a dream? You begin to panic and rush into the grand hall to find Yong lying there with arrows sticking from his scales.

"No!" you scream in horror and rush towards him.

Then, you spot your suitor whom you'd rejected about a million times but apparently, he couldn't take no for an answer.

"What did you do to him?" you hiss angrily.

"What the monster deserved," the asshole grunts.

"You're the true monster!" you scream.

"Come on, Y/N, let's go back home."

"Over my dead body. Or yours," you vow and do something that is perhaps foolish but you don't have time and you can't think of anything else.

You knock the candelabra to the side with a quiet "Sorry, John" and the fire starts spreading towards the tablecloth and approaches the intruder. Then, seeing as this is not enough to scare him away, you throw the small mirror at him, apologetically, but it does the trick, as it cuts him and he starts to draw back. As if awakened by your vigorous attacks, the talking objects join in and soon, Doyoung the teapot is sending scorching liquid, Mark the mirror is showing horrifying images and Jungwoo the footstool is biting the legs of the fiend furiously.

The intruder goes away running, taking the angry crowd along with him and screaming that this place is cursed by evil demons and they shouldn't have come here.

Though relieved you managed to get rid of the vicious people, you are still worried about Yong's state and you kneel down next to the injured dragon.

"You came," Yong murmurs weakly.

"Of course, I promised you, didn't I?" you insist, tears falling down your face.

"I was afraid you wouldn't. He said you were his fiancée. That's why I didn't fight back. I thought…"

"I could never love someone like him," you shake your head furiously. "Oh Gods, I should have come here sooner."

"Maybe it's for the best…" the dragon sighs exhaustedly. You caress his red scales softly, trying to express how much he means to you.

"No, don't say that! I'm here now, everything will be better."

"I'm glad I got to see you one last time…" Yong reaches out his front limb but it falls to the ground before he could touch your face and his eyes close.

"No, please, no, Yong! Don't leave me! I love you!" you confess through the tears, desperate to keep him with you.

The talking objects stare sadly as the last petal falls off the rose.

You cry with your arms wrapped around the dragon's neck, not wanting to lose him, when suddenly you feel his body exuding an abnormal amount of warmth. You are hesitant to let go but the heat becomes unbearable and you take a step back to assess the situation. Yong starts levitating and a mixture of fire and ice envelops him mid-air. His red-scaled limbs start decreasing in size and changing in texture. His claws slowly start turning into fingers. His majestic tail disappears. You blink in shock, as the dragon's body transforms into that of a human. Finally, you are met with the face of a handsome young man with big beautiful eyes and a jawline sharper than his former claws.

It is obviously still Yong, but you are too surprised to say anything.

"Y/N! It's me, Yong!" he confirms enthusiastically. "Well, Prince Taeyong, actually, but you can call me whatever you like."

"It is you!" you gasp and rush into his arms, hugging him as tight as possible.

He laughs, spins you around and kisses you in relief.

"I can't believe this," Taeyong shakes his head.

All of a sudden, the talking objects also start transforming into awesome humans.

"Look at my long legs!" Johnny the former candelabra exclaims.

"Mom! You look amazing," Haechan, no longer a teacup, grins at Doyoung.

"Still not your mom, you dork," Doyoung chuckles and hugs everyone around him.

"Mark!" Haechan exclaims happily, rushing towards the former mirror.

"Duuude, it's been ages!" Mark is overjoyed to be reunited with his best friend.

"WE ARE NEED COFFEEEE!" Yuta the past wardrobe is thrilled he'll get to experience the small but certain happiness of caffeine.

"Count me in!" Jaehyun the recent mantel clock joins in on the fun.

"Woof!" Jungwoo adds.

"Some things never change," Jaehyun sighs, laughing.

"Come on, admit it, I'm funny," Jungwoo finally speaks in a human voice.

"Hilarious. Now how about we all go walk the mad dog?" Jaehyun suggests.

"Oh, for sure," Doyoung catches on that Jaehyun wants to give you and Taeyong some privacy and plays along, "Come on, gang."

Your friends rush outside into the garden, leaving you alone with Taeyong.

"So…care to explain how you became a dragon and now you're human?" you inquire with a chuckle.

"It's a long story," Taeyong scratches the back of his head nervously.

"Lucky for you, I've got all the time in the world."

"Well then…once upon a time there was a cruel prince who only cared about appearances…"

As Taeyong finishes telling the story, you are met with the realization that it never mattered to you how he looks. Dragon or human, beast or prince, flying or walking, it is his generous heart you fell for. And though it started in a strange way, you are truly grateful you met him and got to know his precious personality. It truly feels like a miracle.

"Can I have this dance, please?" Taeyong asks.

"Provided you give me a kiss," you bargain.

"A dance for a kiss…hardly seems fair," Taeyong jokes.

"Not more fair than a life for a rose," you tease him back, as you dance with him.

"Oh, and what a priceless rose it was," Taeyong laments.

"You are the most priceless rose to me, Yong," you confess, kissing him once more.

The eternal winter is finally replaced by an endless spring. The castle, once covered in snow and surrounded by black clouds, is now bursting with vibrant colours, as the sun's rays hit its windows. Walking hand in hand through the magical garden of roses, you know in your heart that your love story is just beginning.

The End

[ninyard]

more chapter 15 thoughts because the more i think about it the more emotional im making myself

Going back a second. As if Jeremy didn’t remember the moment with agonising clarity. He felt COLD all over as his heart left CRACKS along his RIBCAGE.

anyways

His fucking brother man. Turning him onto these drugs. also the “They did and didn’t.” is devastating to me. The fact Bryson knows how hard it is being Jeremy, living at home, being who he is, and uses that vulnerability to fuck with his brothers life. For what reason? For money? More money?

Did he show him how to snort it properly? Did Jeremy feel for a moment like that was bonding, like something he could share with his brother, a moment where they could bond over bad decisions and being high at the dinner table? He was in fucking high school. And his older brother turned his baby brother onto coke.

And Jeremy was desperate enough to believe him. That line breaks my heart. He doesn’t want to live like this. The outcast in the family, the disappointment of a child, hated and hated and hated, and he had no “Laila’s house” to go to as a teenager. Maybe he had Leo, or someone else, but for all we know he spent a LOT more time at home miserable. And cocaine makes people paranoid, and angry, and the “positive” high of it doesn’t last very long either.

(and is it why he drinks so much coffee? why he falls asleep on long drives? because he doesn’t have the coke to keep him awake?)

And STILL he downplays his “privileged” trauma, and compares it to Jean’s. Proving he’s a soft spined failure? That’s heartbreaking, man.

The mood swings and unpredictability. They didn’t trust him. People didn’t want to be his friend, they kept their distance. He had a temper, right? He was an angry, sad, lonely person. And the thing that was supposed to make him feel better was only making him worse. Was he sniffing before games? Sneaking baggies into the bathrooms at away games, was he panicking when USC called for random drug tests? How far did he go to hide it, or did everyone know? Was he known for tiny pupils and being high on the court? Was he ever as unpredictable as Andrew?

i can’t stop focusing on him saying “I was recklessly indiscreet in high school”. Was he happy, unbothered, proud? Or was he purposefully reckless, and unsafe, rebellion in the way of sexual self harm, with a reputation for being a slut? Did it start there?

“It was a big hit” too. He shared. Not only did he leave his brother alone to get high and get off, he supplied a room of his peers with cocaine that’d show up in their blood tests for a while afterwards, in an unsafe environment made unsafer because of him, and the cops that came looking for him.

That first line breaks my heart. It hurts him so much to bare his heart.

I don’t know what to say. It’s just fucking insanity. His heart was probably racing, all these people in danger now because of him. Dexter’s life ruined because of him, oh and even though it wasn’t his fault, it was none of their fault, how could you tell Jeremy otherwise? He hates himself for his past. He tries so, so hard to distance himself from it.

And he was still lucky. Nobody knows Jeremy was high out of his mind when he made the decisions that led to him being known for what he’s known for. His stepdad worked his magic and made it all disappear.

A boot on his spine to keep him down.Rough carpet, too tight handcuffs. His identity so much of a scandal that the cops fucking forgot to tell him his baby brother was dead.

Again how he blames himself. It’s 2003. The world is not an accepting place. and look at what he did, and how he got away with it because of who he refuses to be known as being related to. Jean tells him it’s not his fault and he says no, it is, it has to be. Because he made the decision to be there.

and then. and Then. Noah. Did you know he would?

he knew, and he left him, and how could it possibly be anyone else’s fault?

I just see so much pain in him in this moment. Jean is asking all the right-wrong questions, the ones that hurt but get to the truth without speculation or pity or shame. Did you know? Maybe the answer isn’t as simple as a yes or no, but it’s a yes, and he left him, and who the fuck else could possibly be to blame, then? He made the decision to bring his brother with him, and he made the decision to leave him alone.

And its not that simple, it’s never that simple, there’s no way he could’ve known that leaving him alone would have ended up the way that it did. But when his mom says it, and his sibling say it, who else or what else is he supposed to believe?

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi Cal!! I’m back already with more requests because all of your current stories are so gripping that I just can’t help myself

Lol the themes that were coming to mind pretty much worked for all of the fics so this time they’re just ordered by much I am currently frothing at the bit to know what happens next :p

🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊 (oh man i was right to worry about this one! Honestly that very first line really got to me and you haven’t been pulling any punches (hehe :p) since. And in that most recent snippet where Chris was mad that Eddie was able to make him feel better and scared that Buck wouldn’t love him anymore - my heart broke! That child really needs a hug so I’m submitting lots of emojis to do my part to get him one! Also I really didn’t think there were any scenarios left to make me madder at the Diaz parents but damn you managed to find one - major props to you :p)

🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀 (so so loving this one!!! Your magical stories are always incredible and I really love how you’re weaving the changling concept into the Buckley family history because it fits so well! Very excited to see more of how Buck and Evan interact and to learn what’s going on. Also lol on Evan immediately clocking Buddie - he might have been kept out of the human world for years but he’s no dummy!)

- PCA <3

AHHH thank you!

117 for 🥊( I am so glad you're liking it and feeling the tension! I don't think my brain will stop reeling until Eddie and Chris are reunited. I need it more than air):

---

“You didn’t,” Buck agrees. “But you do now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re here now,” Buck says. “And your dad knows this isn’t what you wanted. He’s going to give you space and he’s going to… Be Eddie about all this.”

Christopher doesn’t know what Be Eddie means. But whatever. Okay. 

“So you have a choice,” Buck repeats. “You can keep being really mad at him. And that’s fair, you know? I have a lot of thoughts about what happened there, too. Really. But one time, when I was really mad at the person who has loved me unconditionally my whole life, I got some great advice. And I learned something. Do you know what that was?”

Chris shakes his head. “No. What?”

“That it’s really easy to stay mad at someone who you know will always be there for you,” Buck says. “Easier to forgive someone who you didn’t ever really rely on.”

Chris exhales heavily. Buck… Well, he makes a lot of sense. He does. Hasn’t Dad already sort of proven his point? By showing up and making Chris feel better, even when Chris was angry and rude and had gotten in trouble? But Chris… He just doesn’t know if he’s ready to forgive him yet. 

“I’ll think about it,” Christopher mumbles. 

Buck smiles kindly. Warmly. 

“That’s all I ask.”

iii.

Eddie wakes up the morning after Christopher comes home with nothing solved. Well, nothing solved beyond the absence. Yesterday when he woke up, they weren’t together. At least now they are. Even if Chris still hates him. He hates him under his roof. That’s something. 

But the hating him thing isn’t solved. And Eddie still hasn’t managed to talk to Buck about their situation, despite Buck helping immensely yesterday. Despite Buck actually having a long, good conversation with Chris. Eddie owes him a long, good conversation, too. If only he had any words in his brain that weren’t about how much he misses his kid. 

When he wakes up, he’s still not adjusted to Chris being back. Or, maybe he is but he just assumes that his son is a teenager. He won’t be awake before Eddie. Eddie walks out of his bedroom in boxers and a tee shirt, feeling like he’s been dragged out of the grave. He needs a calm, not emotionally exhausting day some time soon. And a good sleep, maybe. 

For now, coffee will have to do. 

Except, when he walks into the kitchen, Christopher is already in there. He’s leafing through a stack of papers that Eddie left on the kitchen counter. He left them there days ago. Two days ago. When he and Buck were discussing his move… Before they didn’t discuss other activities. 

“Chris,” Eddie says groggily. “Good morning, bud. Uh, what are you-”

“What happened to screw El Paso?” Chris demands. 

Okay, then. Good morning to him, too. 

“Christopher, I-”

“You’re selling the house?” He asks, incredulous. “Moving us back there?” 

“No!” Eddie insists. “No, I’m not doing that.”

“Well, why do these papers say you are?” 

“Because I was going to,” Eddie says. “Before your grandparents called me, I was going to. That was the plan.”

“What?” Chris asks. “Why?”

“Because…” Eddie sighs, frustrated. He’s fucking frustrated. “Because I didn’t think you were going to come home! And, I mean, you didn’t choose to, anyway.”

“What?” Chris asks. “You were… Really?”

“Yes!” Eddie answers. “Of course I was, Chris.”

“That wasn’t why I went,” Chris says. “I wasn’t trying to get you to come.”

“I know that,” Eddie says. 

“Then why?” Chris demands. 

“Because I needed to be near you!” Eddie sort of bursts. “Even if you hate me for the rest of my life. Even if you never wanted to live with me again. You are my son and I love you and I need to be near you. I couldn’t miss the rest of your childhood because I made a horrible mistake.”

Christopher’s expression falls.

“I don’t hate you,” he says quietly. 

Eddie blinks. What? He… He doesn’t?

“You don’t?” Eddie exhales. He can barely hear himself. 

“No,” Chris says. “I don’t hate you. I never… I wanted to.”

Eddie swallows. He nods. That’s fair. It’s fair to want to hate him. He deserves that.

---

96 for 🔀 (THANKS!! I love doing some magical shenanigans and playing with reality in my fics):

---

Well, easy for Eddie to say. His son is his son. His life hasn’t been a lie. 

ii. 

Eddie drives Buck back to his loft the next morning. He still looks like himself. The glamour lasted overnight. Buck wonders how long it will last. Will he wake up one morning green? In the middle of a shift? Next time he gets hurt? He supposes it lasted thirty years last time. Through a lot of bad injuries. Literal death. He doesn’t know how to predict what will do it next, and that unnerves him. But at least he has a solution. 

He’s called Maddie already. She’s on her way over as well. He feels sick about the whole thing. But Athena was right. She is owed the opportunity to have her own reaction. Make her own choice. Know the truth about both her brothers, living and dead. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Eddie says when they park. 

“You don’t know that,” Buck mumbles.

“I do, though,” Eddie says.

They’ll just have to agree to disagree on that.

When he walks back into the loft, Bobby and Athena are both visibly shocked. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck says. “I know. Chris figured it out.”

“You look…” Athena starts.

“You did a good job,” Bobby offers. “Really good. Can’t tell the difference.”

Evan, who is no longer cuffed to the stairs, but sitting cuffed at Buck’s kitchen island, smirks. 

“Do you feel a little dirty? Hiding your true nature?”

Buck reddens. 

“Hey!” Eddie snaps at Evan.

“Watch yourself,” Athena warns him. “I feel bad for you. I do. But my patience only extends so far.”

Evan’s expression flatten. 

“Sorry, Ma’am,” he mutters.

Buck gapes. How the hell did she do that?

“Close your mouth, Buck,” Athena chuckles. “I had to lay down the law with you, too, once upon a time.”

Buck nods. “Yeah. It’s still impressive.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s Maddie. She’s here. 

“I’m going to wait for her in the hallway,” Buck mutters. “Explain things.”

“Don’t you dare mislead her!” Evan calls as he walks to the door. “You have to tell her!”

And obviously he will. But Buck doesn’t even dignify this with a response. His life is about to be ruined, he doesn’t really care about the other guy’s feelings. 

🟢

Maddie greets him with a hug. Buck wonders if it’s the last hug they’ll ever share. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks. “You sounded serious on the phone. And why are we talking out here?”

“Um,” Buck tries to play it cool. Like his world isn’t ending. “Uh…”

“Evan-”

“Can you please call me Buck?” He asks, a little snappishly. 

Her eyes widen, surprised. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know that’s what you prefer. I just didn’t… I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“No, Maddie, I…” He trails off. “I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just… Something has happened.”

Maddie frowns. “Something bad?”

He nods. 

“Okay,” she says calmly. “Well… You know you can tell me anything. And you called me because you know I want to help you, right?”

[hy6erion]

um, did you see that marmoush hattrick??? we need a fic where him and his girl celebrate together after she was at the game watching him 🤭🫶

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 - 𝐎𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 (𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠) 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡. 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

The moment the final whistle blew, you practically leapt out of your seat, screaming at the top of your lungs. The entire stadium was roaring, the sound of thousands of fans chanting Omar’s name vibrating through your chest. Your hands were trembling as you clapped, watching him stand on the pitch, breathless, his hands on his head in disbelief.

A hattrick. His first ever for Manchester City. Three perfect goals, each one sending the crowd into a frenzy.

Omar’s eyes searched the stands until they found yours. His face lit up, exhausted but glowing with pure joy, and he pointed right at you before tapping his chest. That was for you.

You pressed your hands over your heart, grinning so wide it almost hurt. You were so proud you thought you might explode.

By the time he made it to the players’ lounge, you were practically bouncing on your feet, waiting for him. The moment he walked through the doors, you didn’t even think—you ran straight at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Omar!!!”

He barely had time to react before you crashed into him, your arms wrapping around his neck. But he caught you instantly, laughing as he lifted you off the ground.

“I DID IT!” he shouted, spinning you around.

You giggled, clinging to him. “You did it! Three goals, Omar! A HATTRICK! Do you even understand how big this is?!”

He set you down but didn’t let go, his hands cupping your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks. His eyes were still wide, almost disbelieving. “I swear, it still doesn’t feel real.”

You grabbed his face dramatically. “It’s real, hattrick hero. You were magic out there.”

He laughed, pure and giddy, before suddenly pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was warm against your skin, his hands still holding your face like you were the most important thing in the world. “You know what the best part was?”

You blinked. “Scoring three goals?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “Seeing your face every time I looked up.”

Your heart melted right then and there. “Omar,” you whispered, already feeling your cheeks heat up.

He beamed. “I love you so much.”

Before you could respond, he kissed you—right there, in the middle of the lounge, with players, staff, and even Pep Guardiola in the background. But you didn’t care. His lips were warm, soft, a little desperate as if he needed to feel you close to really believe this was happening.

When he pulled away, he laughed breathlessly. “Sorry, I just—”

“Do it again,” you cut in, smiling against his lips.

And he did.

—

Later that night, after all the celebrations, the interviews, and the never-ending congratulations, the two of you finally made it home.

Omar was exhausted. The moment you walked through the door, he collapsed onto the couch, groaning dramatically.

“Babe,” he mumbled, eyes closed. “I think I’m dying.”

You giggled, kicking off your shoes and crawling onto the couch beside him. “You’re not dying.”

“I can’t move.”

You pouted, lying down next to him. “Guess I’ll have to cuddle you until you recover.”

His eyes popped open immediately. “Okay, actually, I think I feel a little better.”

You laughed as he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. His arms were warm, strong, completely wrapped around you as if he never wanted to let go.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair. “You smell like sweat.”

He gasped dramatically. “Wow. After I scored three goals for you?”

You giggled. “For me?”

“Yes. I dedicate every goal to you.”

Your heart melted for the millionth time that day. “You’re so cute.”

He groaned, burying his face deeper into your neck. “Stop. I’m supposed to be cool.”

“You’re still cool. Just also really, really cute.”

You felt him smile against your skin before he started peppering soft kisses along your jaw, up to your cheek, then your forehead. “You know what’s cute? You. Wearing my jersey. Screaming my name like my biggest fan.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “I am your biggest fan.”

He pulled back, his golden-brown eyes shining as he looked at you. “And I’m your biggest fan.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning. “You’re so in love with me.”

He grinned. “I really, really am.”

He kissed you again—slow and sweet, his hands gently cradling your face, as if you were the best prize of the night. And as you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his love wrap around you, you knew one thing for sure: this was the best night of your life.

[baekhyunsbestie]

Can you make Kai husband headcanons please? 🥺🥺 i LOVE him A LOT and i LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE your writing i would be so happy if u do🥺🥺🥺

oh absolutelyyy baby !!! omg kai's been making me feel so many emotions lately so i had sooo much fun writing these husband hc’s abt him lol hope ya like itttttttt :') <333333 gets nsfw under the cut!

⟢ kai is the kind of husband who looks at you like you put the stars in the sky. it’s not even intentional—he’s just so in love with you that it shows in every glance, every lingering touch, every deep sigh he lets out when he pulls you into his arms after a long day.

⟢ loves domesticity. he gets all mushy inside seeing you in his clothes, making coffee in the kitchen, lounging on the couch like you belong there (because you do). sometimes just looks at you and sighs because wow. he married you.

⟢ when he kisses you, it’s slow, drawn out, like he’s memorizing the way your lips feel against his. he’s always touching you somehow—fingers grazing your wrist, his palm warm against your thigh, an arm wrapped around your waist when you're out in public, staking his silent claim.

⟢ kai isn’t loud about his love, but it’s in everything he does. he picks up on all the lil things you like and makes sure you always have them—your favorite snacks magically appearing in the pantry, your perfume bottle never running out, your playlist always queued up when you get in his car.

⟢ he loves waking up with you. his favorite thing is feeling your warmth tangled up with his, your sleepy voice mumbling against his chest. some mornings, he just lays there, watching you, completely mesmerized.

⟢ kai is so incredibly protective, but it’s subtle. he won’t make a scene, but his presence alone is enough to make people think twice before messing with you. if someone even dares to cross a line, he just steps closer, his voice low and firm, a single warning that makes them back off immediately.

⟢ whenever he sees you dressed up, he straight-up loses his mind. eyes dark, jaw clenched, hands flexing at his sides like he's holding himself back from ruining you immediately. he barely makes it through the night without dragging you home early.

speaking of which…

⟢ kai is obsessed with your body. worships it. treats it like his personal temple, one he's devoted to exploring every inch of. his hands are everywhere—gripping, kneading, stroking, completely unable to get enough.

⟢ boy has stamina. like, absurd amounts of it. he can go round after round, just taking a few minutes to catch his breath before he’s ready again. gets a kick out of seeing you completely spent, body trembling, barely able to form words, while he’s pressing lazy kisses to your sweat damp skin, whispering about how good you are for him.

⟢ he loves it when you ride him. watching you lose yourself on top of him, head thrown back, lips parted, is his personal heaven. he keeps his hands on your hips, guiding your movements, murmuring the filthiest praise. “that’s it, baby… look at you, fuck. you feel so good.”

⟢ he has zero patience when he’s needy. if he’s been waiting all day, if you’ve been teasing him even a little, he’s done. he pins you against the nearest surface—wall, counter, car hood—doesn’t matter. he yanks your clothes aside just enough to slide into you, fucking you deep, growling against your skin. “ya wanted this, didn’t you?”

⟢ his voice is lethal. deep, raspy, and laced with pleasure when he’s in the moment. he moans freely, doesn’t hold back because he knows you love it. if you clench around him when he groans in your ear? oh, he’s teasing you for it. “you like hearing me, baby?” says it even filthier the next time just to hear your whimper.

⟢ lives for overstimulation. he loves seeing you tremble underneath him, body spent but still taking everything he gives. he kisses your tears away, whispering, “just one more, baby. i know you can.”

⟢ obsessed with eye contact. if you try to close your eyes when he’s fucking you, he’s tilting your chin up, thumb brushing over your lips. “look at me,” he commands, voice dark, pupils blown wide with lust. if you obey, he’ll kiss you like he wants to ruin you. if you don’t, he’s slowing his pace, torturing you with deep, teasing strokes until you can’t help but meet his gaze.

⟢ messy. doesn’t care where he finishes—inside, on your stomach, your thighs, your chest—he just likes seeing you covered in him. and if it’s inside? yeah, he’s watching it drip out, pushing it back in with his fingers, mumbling about how much he loves filling you up.

⟢ and then? he cleans you up, murmuring praise, kissing your forehead, running his hands over your sore body to soothe you. bc at the end of the day, you're his everything. his wife, his love, his reason for breathing.

yeah, ur married to the best husband ever. congrats baby 😌💍💖

[disbarredgoose0]

I keep looking at what's been revealed of Duskmourn and I keep wondering why Duskmourn just does not resonate with me. Like, I enjoyed Kamigawa: Neon Dynasty and adore Streets of New Cappena, so I don't think it's the quality of dipping a little into recognizable technologies or more modern aesthetics. Maybe its just the quality of how contemporary Duskmourn feels by comparison. Cause like, the pastiche is calling back to the tech and aesthetics of 80s horror, pop culture, and, most importantly, fashion. It calls back to things that are recognizably "un-fantasy" if still hightened so as to be fantastical. I mean, Episode 1 of the stories starts out by describing what may as well be a suburb. It's something that's so linked to modern Americana that it's hard not to feel a sense of disonance between it and Magic.

This certainly makes a comparison to Neon Dynasty a little easier cause sure, Neon Dynasty has a sci fi aesthetic, but it's firmly rooted in aesthetics from fiction. It's got mechs and cyberpunk tropes and anime callbacks. Even when it dips into recognizably "Japanese" aesthetics, it's got a veneer to it that reads the same way as any generic fantasy does when it calls upon vaguely European "medieval" cities.

That still leaves New Cappena cause I mean. It's got cars! Guns! Sky scrapers! Its whole thing is Art Deco and the Americana of the Roaring 20s and Prohibition! Why do I still mesh with it, why does it still ring to me as Magic where Duskmourn really doesn't? Honestly, no idea. I could go down a line of argument that Art Deco was always its own kind of fiction, or question whether it's the fact that the aesthetic's more separated in time that makes me more comfortable in slotting New Capenna along other Magic settings in my brain. But I don't know, neither feels like a satisfying answer.

I could also talk about how Duskmourn feels a little too random-action-heroes-genre-bending-toy-collection-you-find-in-a-dollar-store for me, but that's another thing entirely.

[akkivee]

even at 20 hitoya kinda had a mature face but if you told me he grew out the beard to look even more mature, i’d understand tbh lmao