#cleaned the tablecloth and his blanket

[mer-se]

my boy

[cheollipop]

❅*⋆ 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

while the world revelled in the first snowfall of the year — crowding their windows as the sky painted the streets in a blanket of white — your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating wooyoung.

❅ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, men whimpering *drools*, wooyoung is a tease, sub-leaning!reader, cockwarming, creaming, praise, nicknames (youngie, woo; baby, good girl, darling, love), they are so in love i want to throw up

❅ A/N: happiest birthday to my beloved.

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Smoothing your spatula over the cooled top layer, small, golden crumbs adhered to the buttercream as you coated the freshly baked cake’s exterior. You peered outside the window atop the sink, a smile stretching your lips when you’d noticed the falling white specs coating the world behind the safety of your glass pane.

You loved winter. You loved the hot chocolate with marshmallows melting into a swirl of whipped cream, huddling up on the couch with candles burning, blankets engulfing your form while the world around you faded away as warmth seeped into your skin. You loved the anticipation of snow, and the bliss it brought with it when it dressed the streets in a soft, pearly gown. You loved the big jumpers you’d sneak out of Wooyoung’s closet, his scent imbedded into the soft fibres, and the homemade soup burning your tongue as he spoon-fed it into your open mouth. Even with harsh storms swaying the trees from side to side, branches banging against your windows, hail pounding on the hoods of cars, and bleak winds breaching the thick layers of cashmere and fleece, winter with Wooyoung was warm.

Too immersed in taking in the sky’s frosty offering, you’d missed the gentle rustling of keys, the click of the front door, mindlessly spreading the slightly-too-thick coating while socked feet padded their way to your idle form. The sudden hands on your waist startled you, a gallop of buttercream flying off the spatula you were holding as your arm jolted upwards, quickly twisting your body with a stunted inhale to face the intruder. Your initial fright dwindled away as you stood before Wooyoung, eyes closed to avoid the buttercream stuck over his eyebrow, his body trapping yours against the marble counter.

“Woo,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, giggles bubbling up in your throat as you reached for the tablecloth you had thrown over your shoulder, wiping his face with your lips drawn tight to suppress the laugh attempting to slip through.

“Is this how you treat me on my birthday?” You wanted to kiss his pout away, but you resisted. “I rushed home to my darling because I missed her so much, and she tries to blind me,” he sulked, fluttering his eyes open once you’d wiped his face completely clean.

This time, you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips together, moving to peck the corners before pulling away. “I’m sorry, my love,” you smiled apologetically, not bothering with teasing him on his birthday. His mouth stretched into a smile that mirrored yours, and you leaned into his body, arms wrapping around his small waist while his circled your own. Glancing down at his shirt, about to scold him for the improper number of layers he’d thrown on before leaving, your eyebrows shot up at the blotchy streaks of brown painting the thin white. “What did the guys do to you?”

He tilted his head to take in the state of his shirt, blowing out a breathy laugh before directing his gaze back to your puzzled features. “Oh baby, you should’ve seen my face. They had Jongho push it down into the cake.”

“Mm, you still have some in your hair,” you grinned while picking out the crumbs from his hairline, running your fingers through dark locks to break up the stuck-together strands.

A gust of air blew over your face as it escaped Wooyoung’s parted lips in a heavy sigh, interrupting your ministrations when he dropped his head onto your shoulder to nuzzle his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the lingering scent of vanilla wafting off your skin and occupying your residence. Pressing a kiss to your neck, he muttered against the soft flesh, “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled, “you’ve only been gone for two hours.”

“Too long.”

Your chest warmed, fingers carding through the soft hairs at his nape while he laid the weight of his head onto your shoulder, breath steady and arms secure around your waist, occasionally tightening as he zoned in and out of the present, content to simply rest within the aura of tranquillity you’d effortlessly granted him. “You’re here now,” you burrowed your nose into his hair, the chocolatey aroma of a wasted cake embedded into the soft locks.

It wasn’t that Wooyoung was fond of winter too — he simply enjoyed spending it by your side. Pretending to be cold so you’d snuggle closer to him, running your hands through his hair and peppering kisses over his face until it scrunched up, blowing hot air over his already-warm palms just to see the corners of his eyes wrinkle as his lips curled with a smile. You'd wait all year to watch the world pile on layers of thick fabric with a sheet of white, quickly melting dust resting on their shoulders, dainty snowflakes bedecking brown locks, irises glinting under the winter sky as you walked down the slippery sidewalk with intertwined fingers swinging between your bodies.

Winter, to you and Wooyoung, meant meaningless walks under the soft snowfall, feeling the momentary chill of the icy flakes on your skin before it reverted back to liquid. Red noses inhaling the crisp air, soft gusts of fog leaving freckled lips as excited words rolled off his tongue — something about a new series he was watching, or was it a movie? The non-prescription glasses he insisted on wearing all but fully beclouded, droplets of melted snow rolling off the plastic frame, his lips cracked with their excessive movement as he kept switching between topics, as though he’d been saving them up for weeks. As though you didn’t share most of the day’s hours in each other’s company, eyes meeting delicate features as the morning sun cast its early rays over your resting figures, and falling shut within each other’s embrace, hoping their gentle touch could carry into your dreams.

Wooyoung knew when to be quiet as well. When the grey, weary skies reflected upon your affect, your warm sheets proving to be a little more difficult to part with, and words a little more difficult to utter. In such instances, Wooyoung offered you peace, safety, warmth. A place to rest and recover, where the passage of time didn’t seem too daunting, where you could find footing at your own pace, with a gaze flooded with unfaltering adoration cast upon you, and arms warmer than the peak of summer holding your trembling form until it found the strength to stand alone, a ghost of a palm on your lower back even as you took your first steps back into the present.

A pleasant exhale warmed your shoulder before Wooyoung’s body retreated partially, arms still encompassing your body while he directed his focus onto the counter behind you. “Has my baby been working on this since I left?” His tone was playful, amused as he peered over your shoulder at the crumb-coated cake left unfinished.

The corners of your lips lifted into a shy smile, cheeks flushed while you nodded. With your eyes fixed onto a particular stain on Wooyoung’s collar, you’d missed the tenderness of his gaze as he took you in — curling in on yourself while he held you in his arms, flour dusted over your sweater and traces of buttercream left at the corner of your mouth from a sneaky taste testing you thought would go unnoticed. Holding your chin with his pointer and thumb, Wooyoung directed your focus back to his face, greeting you with an easy smile before leaning forward to close the gap between your lips. They sashayed like dancers, moulding against one another in a gentle, yet gradually deepening kiss, noses pressing against one another as Wooyoung stepped further into your space.

And just like that, he was gone again, moving back to moon over the blend of abashment and disorientation taking over your features while your lips continued to chase his, the plushness lingering over your senses, and you wanted more. But the hands on your waist were twisting you clockwise until you faced the loitering snowfall once again, Wooyoung’s arms now on either side of you, bracketing your body against the counter while his lips feathered over the cartilage of your ear as he spoke, “come on then, don’t let me distract you.”

Your heartrate picked up, Wooyoung’s body heat — despite the intentional space left between your back and his chest — seeping into your skin, not aiding the flush running up your body at the proximity, the not-so-innocent touches, the teasing, the taste of his lips persisting over yours.

“Woo,” the tone was firm, but your voice wavered before you could stop it, and the telltale stretch of his mouth against the shell of your ear told you all you needed to know — Wooyoung was aware of his effect on you, and would work to exploit his power in any way he could.

Slender fingers reached for the piping bag you’d set aside earlier, twisting one of your hands with his free one to place the tool into your open palm. “Here, I’ll help,” his smirk remained, evident in his voice as he laid his hands over your knuckles, following your lead as you adjusted the bag in your hold until it fit comfortably.

You exhaled the breath you’d been holding, steadying your trembling hands and angling your body over the counter, dragging Wooyoung down with you as he watched your measured movements in silence. Pressing down on the sides of the plastic bag, you formed your first buttercream swirl with a meticulous twist of the wrist. You pursed your lips, leaning back ever so slightly to examine it before nodding in approval, bending down once again to repeat the process.

Wooyoung's hand remained perched idly over yours, eyes flitting between your profile and the hands lining his birthday cake’s circumference with — very uneven — swirls of vanilla buttercream. With no trace of your previous bashfulness to be found, Wooyoung found himself mooning over the engaged furrow of your eyebrows, the glossy sliver of tongue held between your teeth, steady hands moving underneath his with no complaint about their added weight; you’ll most likely use that as an excuse to justify the noticeable discrepancy in swirl size, and Wooyoung will most likely allow it, drop the banter and accept you accusations, simply to see the blissful spark lighting up your irises.

Suddenly straightening up into his body, you’d dragged Wooyoung out of his sappy daydreams and back to inspect the finished cake, the decorative swirls appearing more uniform now that they’d been clustered together, the mouthwatering scent of vanilla and caramel so inviting, so homey and pleasant.

As though you’d read his mind, you reached forward to grab a clean fork from the dishrack, not bothering with cutting out a slice before you’d stabbed the cake to scoop out a bite of fluffy, vanilla-coated sponge. Wooyoung's mouth opened without thought as you directed the heaped fork over your shoulder, teeth clanging against the metal as he slid the contents off its prongs. You'd expected the passionate feedback, turning your head as soon as his eyes had fell shut, wishing you’d plugged your ears as soon as the hyperbolic moaning began. Sensing the sway of his body behind you while he chewed loudly, you slid your finger over the coated side of the cake, collecting a bead of buttercream and rotating your body to smear it onto his cheek. The moaning stopped, thank fuck.

The deadpan expression barely lasted, his features melting into that of warmth, affection, love — as though you’d handcrafted the intricate snowflakes painting the world white and placed them into his hands. Wooyoung’s gaze moved to your lips, skipping contemplation, and diving forward to share the sweet remnants of vanilla on his tongue, flicking it over your bottom lip with a sly smile. He trailed tender kisses up your face, starting at the corner of your mouth and up to your cheekbone. And just as your eyes fluttered shut, a warm, buttercream-covered cheek collided with yours, curved nose nuzzling into the warm flesh to smear the sugary cream over your skin. His grip on your waist was unyielding, holding you still while you thrashed in his arms.

“You shouldn’t play with your food, my love,” he grinned, fingers now poking at your sides.

“Woo—” you shrieked and jerked away from his touch, throwing your head back as giggles erupted from your chest. “Please—s-stop!”

He carried on with his ministrations for a few moments more, revelling in the pleasant melody leaving your smiling lips, the joyous expression persisting even after his hands ceased their motion, now resting comfortably over the curve of your waist. It was as though an inconspicuous force drew him to you, finding it laborious to remain detached from your form. The cake on his shirt be damned, he wrapped himself around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to inhale the scent of your body wash, pressing feathery pecks over the soft skin.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, sighing pleasantly at the gentle gesture as you smoothed your hands down his back, nuzzling your cheek into his clothed shoulder while the scent of musk and chocolate mingled in the air around you.

Settling in the tranquil stillness with Wooyoung, you could feel the taut, lean muscle lining his back beneath your palms, absorbing his comforting heat as you stood together. “How are you not cold?”

He smiled fondly at the slight lisp you spoke with, tucked so close to his body, his shoulder muffled your words. Pulling back, he placed a wet kiss to the tip of your nose when you’d whined about the sudden parting, and his hands reached for yours. He enveloped the icy digits within the warmth of his own, bringing them up to his mouth to blow hot air into the cocoon he’d created around your hands. Closing his fingers around yours completely, he hoped it’d contain the warmth of his breath, lowering them back down to peer at you through his eyelashes, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“What?” you questioned warily, one eyebrow raised and heat rushing through your body.

Despite his intense stare, his eyes — though slightly narrowed — remained soft, one hand leaving yours to smooth down the hair at the side of your head, the scent of chocolate surrounding you once again as he pressed his lips to your temple, the leftover sugary cream on his skin spreading over your cheekbone as he spoke.

“My sweet baby, let’s warm you up, yeah?”

--

All plans to ravish you vanished as soon as your knees met the carpeted floor between his legs, hurried fingers tugging at his sweatpants, not allowing him the time to settle back down onto the couch cushions before a wet tongue swiped over the precum beading at his tip.

“Baby, you really don’t have to,” he muttered breathlessly, fingers carding through your hair, eager eyes watching your spit-soaked lips approaching his cock.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly took his cockhead into your mouth, fluttering your eyes shut as you lowered yourself further down his length, grunts and choked moans reverberating in your ears and motivating you to carry on. He felt heavy on your tongue, the prominent vein lining his shaft throbbing in your mouth and bitter precum overwhelming your tastebuds. Wooyoung’s thighs tensed under your palms, and glancing up at him, you watched the turmoil his features portrayed, wanting you to move at your own pace, yet the burning want sizzling in his gut begged him to take what he wanted.

“Youngie,” a gentle mumble of his name was enough to drag him out of the battles crowding his mind, snapping his eyes down to your face with parted lips and stunted exhales. Dragging your mouth down his length, you watched as his gaze moved to take in the slow descent, then back up at the sound of your voice, “use me however you want, birthday boy.”

You flattened your tongue over underside of his cock, moving upwards to circle around his head, your exaggerated slurping breaking Wooyoung’s composure, the internal battles in his mind coming to a standstill as your warmth engulfed him, eyes beginning to roll back with every inch you took down the rough plane of your tongue. His hands shot up to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheekbones while he kept you in place, languidly rolling his hips into your mouth, head thrown back over the cushions behind him with burning arousal rushing through his body. You nuzzled your nose into the thick hairs at his base, and even as you gagged, your mind floated in ecstasy with every upward buck of Wooyoung’s hips.

“Fuck—‘m sorry darling, you feel so good,” he admired the skill in which you took his cock with lidded eyes, brows furrowed while he held you down until he felt the last of your oxygen warming the skin of his pelvis.

Wooyoung helped you off his length before you had the chance to tap on his thigh, chest heaving as he watched you regain your breath, his throbbing length coated in your spit and spurting translucent, sticky precum in anticipation. He followed the string of saliva connecting the tip of your tongue to his cockhead, swallowing dryly as his body lit up with all-consuming lust. Watching you suck in the air you’d lost, Wooyoung assumed he’d have more time to recover, to push down the hints of an orgasm come too soon, but the sudden fingers around his base offered him no reprieve. Small, firm tugs on the lower half of his cock built him up to an almost-high once again, his voice thinning — groans turned choked-up moans — and his hips involuntarily jerking into your fist.

“W-wait—baby, ‘m gonna cum, please—” he pleaded, but the small smile you tried to hide told him everything he needed to know: you weren’t planning on stopping. You wanted to hear him whimper and whine, watch him squirm and shiver under your touch until he’d dirtied his clothes with his own cum, until his cock could no longer handle the flaring stimulation. But Wooyoung had other plans, grabbing your wrist and sighing as you relaxed your fingers around his cock, shutting his eyes to bask in the calm before opening them once again to take in your dejected features. Too riled up to play your games, like a carnivorous fauna who’d been mercilessly starved for weeks, Wooyoung wanted to feast. “God, darling, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You thought the couch would’ve been reserved for foreplay and playful teasing, but Wooyoung didn’t bother move to the comfort of your shared bed, simply lifting you off the ground and trapping you under him, the fingers tangled in the hair at your nape tugging your head back to bare your neck while blunt canines left imprints over the delicate skin. Wooyoung’s cock fit snugly between your walls, resting comfortably within your clenching heat while he ravished you, his body weight resting on your pelvis restricting your movement. It seemed as though the raw lust blazing in hooded eyes had dissipated completely, replaced by unwavering patience, gentle pecks and blooming bruises, a throbbing cock seated within your cunt with no plans of moving, of fucking you the way you’d yearned for.

“Youngie,” you whined, a high-pitched whisper that elicited a hum from the man biting into your shoulder. “Please move.”

A breathy chuckle blew over your skin, “I thought the birthday boy made the requests?”

Your expression fell, was it the embarrassment or dejection? Either or, you turned your head to face the backrest, the motion restricted by the hand in your hair, now easing its grip as Wooyoung noticed the flush spreading up from the collar of the flour-dusted sweatshirt he didn’t bother add to the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown over the carpet.

Redirecting back up to your jaw, he planted wet, open-mouthed kisses over its slope, gentle fingers on your chin guiding your gaze back to him. “Oh baby, I’m just kidding.”

His lips settled into an easy smile, soft fringe fanned over his forehead and shimmering beads of sweat forming over the slivers of skin peeking through. The abashment you’d felt faded upon meeting his eyes, void of any judgement, and full of unconditional infatuation. His lips landed onto yours while you were too busy admiring his features — a slow, deep kiss to match the leisure movement of his hips, the drag of his cock over your walls throwing gasoline into the fire burning in your gut. Arm hooking under your knee, he spread you open and laid himself over your lower half.

“What are you—”

“Moving,” a sly smirk paired with a sharp thrust into your welcoming heat, a groan left his parted lips while he watched you melt under his towering frame, the audible squelch of your pussy like music to his ears.

He didn’t give you time to process, elbows digging into the cushion on either side of your head as he built up to a mind-numbing pace, stuffing his cock inside you and revelling in the pleasure painting your features — eyes shut and mouth forming an ‘o’, unable to form coherent words, only a staccato of airy ah’s. His cock was relentless, repeatedly pressing into your sweet spot to light fireworks behind your eyelids, your hips rolling to meet his to create an echo of skin-on-skin between the four walls. The constant squeeze of your pussy around him, the sweet sounds leaving your lips, the firm hold you had around his biceps as he pistoned his hips into you with fervour — Wooyoung’s composure began faltering, and his desperation unveiled itself the deeper he fucked himself into your sopping cunt.

You were so wet, a frustrated whine reverberating in Wooyoung’s throat when he slipped out of you, hands trembling as he hurriedly pushed himself back into your fluttering hole, sighing in unison once your walls were once again moulded to his shape. He lowered himself atop you, his forearms easing some of his body weight off yours while he nuzzled back into your neck, grunts and breathy moans now much closer to your ear, much clearer, sending searing waves of heat straight down to your stretched core.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered into your skin, “taking me so well, letting me use your cunt the way I want. Such a good girl for me,” he bit down on the column of your throat, feeling it vibrate with your moans as he built himself up to the brink of his orgasm, then slowing down to drag you there with him.

“Fuck, Woo, please—”

Your fingers found the hair at his crown and tugged, not to pull him off you, but to hear the whimpers sounding at the back of his throat. You were close too, so fucking close from the relentless abuse of your g-spot, Wooyoung’s cockhead pressing into it with every forceful thrust into your needy cunt while his pelvis continuously brushed against your swollen clit. The familiar fluttering didn’t go unnoticed, your pussy gripping Wooyoung with its every retreat, swallowing him back inside — inch by inch — with an exhale of relief.

“Close?”

It sounded more like a statement, but you nodded anyway, the hands on his shoulders sliding down his bare back to grip the warm flesh of his hips, desperately guiding them into your heat. The gesture, paired with the doe, sparking eyes you looked up at him with, the gentle tone of your voice as whispered pleads and repetitions of his name escaped your pouty lips, dragged Wooyoung over the edge, tumbling down the steep hill of his orgasm until his vision blurred with unshed tears. The rhythm he'd maintained broke, replaced by sloppy, frenzied thrusts into your dripping cunt, a thick ring of cream forming around his cock as he emptied inside you.

He twitched violently between your walls, and the sudden warmth spreading through your lower belly dragged you down that hill with Wooyoung. You clamped down around his length, halting the frantic pounding as he sheathed himself within your cunt, feeding thick ropes of white into your womb while he shuddered above you, unfiltered moans vibrating against the side of your neck.

It felt like you were still coming, even as Wooyoung used your cunt to milk out the last of his cum, heavy dollops streaming out of the stretched hole, your walls continued to flutter around him, thighs trembling at his side and under his palm. Even as he stretched your leg out for you, refusing to leave the comforting warmth of your cunt while he wrapped his arms around you and twisted you onto your sides, your mind still floated within a cloud of ecstasy.

Was it your orgasm, or was it just Wooyoung? His presence, the soft scent of his cologne and the chocolate in his hair creating a bubble of comfort around your resting frame, his warmth seeping into your skin and lighting your heart ablaze. Today was meant to be about him, celebrating him, but love laced itself into everything Wooyoung did, and he couldn’t help but give, even on a day on which he was meant to take.

“Thank you for today,” the words spoken into your hair were unexpected, and you lifted your head to meet dazed eyes.

“What?”

“The cake, and the dessert,” he smiled at the innuendo, leaning down to peck the tip of your scrunched nose. “Thank you for loving me.”

Dumbstruck, you stared up at the man with glassy eyes, tucking yourself back into his chest before he could question the tearful reception of his words. But Wooyoung only held you tighter, pressing a faint yet reassuring kiss over your hair while you sunk further into his arms. Warm. Even in the midst of winter, Wooyoung was warm.

With the fluffy blanket you’d laid over the backrest now wrapped around your bare figures, you rested within Wooyoung’s secure hold, sharing whispered confessions and hearty giggles while the sun started its descent from its locus. And as the sky shifted from blues to a vivid magenta, you endeavoured to maintain the smile stretching Wooyoung’s lips, to watch his lines around his mouth further deepen until this happiness forever etched itself onto his face.

The world continued to celebrate the first snow of the year — blankets of white now melting over the asphalt — but your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating Wooyoung.

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[wintfleur]

omg heyyy, I’d love to read something of how they would react if Juliette, mat and Quinn are out on a date night, and then when they’re out they get swarmed by paps and they’re kind of taking up their personal space and Juliette starts getting anxious??🤍

ᥫ᭡ Lights, camera, acción!

﹕─┈ pairings ( Mat barzal x Leclerc f1 driver oc! x Quinn Hughes )

°. — details ( g; angsty. w; angst, the paps being fucking creeps. Mentions of the paps trying to see under Julie’s dress. wc; 2.2k )

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( hi lovely , tysm for sending in a request !! This is like the first fic I’ve really written for this au so I had so much fun !! So sorry it took so long to get out !! Hope you all enjoy it , and please let me know what you guys think !! )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( also !! I know this is a bit unrealistic because of the privacy laws and restrictions on professional photography in Monaco . . . but let’s just pretend those don’t exist for the sake of this fic please )

“We watched that last time” Quinn complained as he set down his glass of wine on the fine white tablecloth. The linen was so soft, softer than some blankets that he's slept on in the hotels he's stayed at, but he didn't expect anything less from the very nice restaurant Juliette had taken them too. 

He licked his lips, cleaning them of any remnants of the red wine that he knew wouldn't be able to pronounce correctly. What he did know was that his girlfriend sounded incredibly hot pronouncing it and he knew Mat felt the same way with how he bit his lip and adjusted in his seat, turning his attention towards the beautiful view of the sunset covered sky that they got from sitting on the patio. 

“So? Then we can watch the second one” Mat was quick to come up with a solution to their ongoing problem of picking a movie for tonight. Mat wanted to watch The Hangover again, Quinn didn't, and Julie was not going to get between them on this topic again. 

“What do you think sweetheart?” Mat turned his playful glare away from Quinn and to Juliette who had her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm as she watched the two playfully argue with a fond smile on her red lips, her own glass of wine long forgotten. 

“I think” Juliette leaned closer to the two as she spoke slowly, the chill air of Monaco giving her bare arms and legs goosebumps. She watched as both of their gazes fell to her cleavage, lingering on the necklace with their initials decorating her neck. She could tell by the way both of their breaths hitched that they thought she was going to turn there night towards a different direction. Julie gave them a teasing smirk as she continued “That I'm going to pick the movie tonight” 

“So, what you're saying is that we're watching twilight again?” Quinn teased with a smile as he leaned back in his chair, just itching to slip out of his whitebutton up shirt that Mat had picked out for him. Julie had a habit of watching the same group of movies depending on the time of the year and how she felt. And she was really feeling Edward Cullen as of late. 

“I'll even let you guys pick which one!” Julie giggled as she reached for her glass, taking a large sip of the expensive wine. Mat and Quinn could definitely tell that the wine was starting to get to her, she was far more giggly than usual. And with how she kept on nudging her stiletto foot against their leg, touchy as well. Two Telltale signs that she was tipsy. 

Mat and Quinn got lost in their own thoughts as they looked at their girlfriend who sat across from them, their thoughts very similar. Julie looked so ethereal under the fairy lights that hung across the patio, her smile and the look in her eyes were driving them crazy. They both desperately wanted to go home . . . or at least make it to the car. 

Quinn cleared his throat and turned the conversation into a different direction, he could see the look in Mat’s eyes, and they still had to wait for their desert to arrive, and mat wasn't one with patience. Julie slowly sipped on her wine as she listened to her boys talk, tilting her head to look out at the night sky with watchful eyes, just taking in the sweet moment of being with her lovers, in her home city. 

The sweet moment was ruined when she felt a cold chill run down her back, and it was like the calm air around them totally shifted into a tense and uncomfortable feeling. She felt like she was being watched. She looked back to Quinn and Mat who were smiling all lovey to each other, neither of them seems to have the same feeling she did. 

She sat up straight in her chair and quickly looked around the empty patio when she heard the subtle sound of a clicking. That anxiousness and fear started creeping up in her bones at the thought of them being watched, please not again. She cut off their conversation with her anxious tone “Did you hear that?” 

Mat and Quinn were quick to halt their conversation when they heard the desperation in her voice, a look of worry coming across both of their faces. Quinn was the first one to speak up while Mat reached across the table to rest his hand on Julie's trembling hand that rested on the table, caressing her soft skin with his thumb “No, what did you hear?” 

“I could have sworn I heard a camera click” Julie frowned as she looked behind her one more time, all she could see was the building next door and a little bit of the busy street. She couldn't see anything from the ground level. Quinn also looked around and he couldn't see much from where they sat “Maybe you misheard? 

Click!

The throuples heads all snapped towards the sound, Mat moved his hands from Quinn's thigh and Julie's hand and stood up from his chair and walked past the empty table next them to see over the protective railing. His eyes widen when he sees a man standing next to a light post on the street, a big black camera in his hands, pointed right at them. Mat clenched his fists as he hissed in anger “What the fuck” 

“Come on we're leaving” Quinn sighed as he stood up from his chair, holding his hand out to help Julie up. Julie was quick to get up and hold onto Quinn's arm, the world slightly spinning from her getting up so fast while being tipsy. Mat flips the man off before turning around and making his way back to the table, pulling his wallet out and leaving several bills on the table, not caring if he overpaid, it would be a nice tip. 

He followed them off the balcony and through the restaurant to the back exit that led to where her car was parked. Julie leaned against Quinn's side as he led them towards the door, mat was practically seething as he walked behind them, he hated how insensitive people were, it was disgusting how the paparazzi's treated Julie. 

Mat rested his hand on Quinn's lower back as he moved in front of them to open the door for them, he was angry, but he still made sure to smile at them both as they walked out of the door. Quinn could see the anger in mat’s eyes, and he could see the anxiety in Julie’s, he hated how such a good date night turned sour because some people were such fucking creeps. 

Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled closer to him, his body warmth protecting her from the chill breeze of Monte Carlo. Mat quickened his steps so he could walk on the other side of Julie, his shoulders were tense as he kept on looking around them, hoping that his gut was wrong and that there weren't more paparazzi. 

They were quiet as they walked to the small car park, but the silence was quickly gone as they turned the corner to the car park. Julie let out a gasp of surprise and stepped back in shock at the loud shouts and flashes from the pictures being taken. Quinn was quick to gently pull Julie behind him, hiding her from the paparazzi that stood next to their car waiting for them. 

“Juliette! Juliette smile!” The paparazzi all screamed their names, shouting out questions and demands. The three of them knew better and kept their mouths closed, not giving them any attention that they desired. Julie winced and closed her eyes; every loud click and shouts made her flinch and move closer to Quinn who was leading her towards the car. 

Mat quickly pulled out the keys and unlocked the car for them to quickly get in, standing behind them protectively as the paparazzi's moved closer to them, they were surrounded, and mat was doing everything to hold back and not shove them away. Julie squeezed her eyes shut and trusted Quinn to lead her, her heart felt like it was going to shoot out of her chest. The flashing lights and the shouting made quick work to give her a headache, the wine in her bloodstream not helping. 

Quinn quickly opened the backseat door and helped Julie in the car while Mat got in the driver's seat. Quinn quickly stood behind her as she got in when he noticed one of the paparazzi crouching down, hoping to see up her dress. Quinn sent him a heated glare before getting in the backseat with her and closing the door. Mat quickly locked the doors and started the car. 

Julie slumped in the middle seat, leaning her head back with her eyes still closed as she tried to calm down. Quinn moved closer to her and softly brushed her hair out of her face, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead as he whispered “It's okay honey, they can't get to us in here. Your safe” 

“Those fucking creeps, there lucky i didn't run them over” Mat hissed angrily with a scoff as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the streets. Quinn kisses Julie's forehead again as she cuddles into his side, Quinn says Mat's name in a calm town, wanting him to calm down before he gets too worked up. 

Mat lets out a heavy breath telling himself to calm down, he quickly looks in the rearview mirror and frowns when he sees the upset look on Julie's face, Quinn was playing with her trembling fingers, knowing that it would help calm her down. Mat asks softly, "Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry that I ruined our date night” Julie murmured sadly, so quietly that Mat almost didn't hear her from the front seat, Ignoring her boyfriend's question. Juliette had terrible luck with the paparazzi, they never left her alone, to the point where she’s had to move twice from the fear of her being watched at her home. A fear that made her anxiety even worse. 

Mat’s heart broke at how dejected she sounded, and he wished he could just give her a big hug and kiss all her sadness away; he would make sure to do so when they got home. It hurt both of their hearts to hear those words coming out of her mouth, especially when it's definitely not her fault. Quinn frowned and continued to play with her hands and hair “it's not your fault angel, please don't say that” 

“Yeah, it's those assholes' faults, besides we have a whole lot of night left” Mat was quick to reassure her, they hated seeing her upset and sad. Mat made eye contact with Julie through the rearview mirror when she lifted her head from Quinn's chest. Mat sent her a flirtatious wink “And i know a lot of ways we can enjoy out night” 

A small chuckle leaves Julie’s lips at Mat’s flirting, he never failed to make her smile. Both of them smiled at the sound of her laughter, happy to have cheered her up. Quinn pressed a quick kiss to her temple before saying sweetly “There’s that pretty smile we missed so much” 

Julie felt her heart flutter as she tilted her head to look up at Quinn, he looked so handsome. He had some stubble from not shaving this morning, his longer hair was a little messy, and God that smile on his lips. Quinn looks down at her with a teasing smirk before glancing at mat “Awe look Shes blushing too” 

“Where did your dirty little mind go sweetheart?” Mat teased as he leaned back in the driver's seat, his right hand falling in his lap as he drove with one hand. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror as he continues to speak “I was talking about us cuddling on the couch watching twilight and eating some sweets” 

Quinn laughs along with Mat when Juliette lets out a loud groan at their teasing. She playfully pushed Quinn away, but he just grabbed her hands and pulled her closer, she was practically in his lap now. Quinn gently cupped her chin and pulled her into a soft kiss. Julie hummed and closed her eyes, her hand coming up to cup his jaw as the kiss got heated. Julie could taste the wine on his tongue, and she wanted more. 

Mat bit his lip to hold in his groan at the sight of the making out in the back of the car, having to stop himself from pressing hard on the gas to get home faster. Julie slowly pulled away from the kiss and sat back in her seat in the middle, crossing her arms over her chest with an embarrassed pout “I hate you both” 

“No, you don’t” Mat smiled as he pulled into the street that led to the apartment building where Julie's penthouse was located. Julie scooted forward in her seat, leaning forward between the driver and passengers' seat to place a quick kiss on his before falling back in her seat with a surprised squeal when mat suddenly drove over a bump, Quinn had grabbed her, and his look of worry turns into a smile at the giggle she let out. 

 “No, no i don't” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is so poorly written omg I’m gonna sob 💔 )

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow @willowpains @winterbarnesblog @yoontwin )

©️WINTFLEUR

[jungle-angel]

Gently Falls The Snow (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob share an intimate little moment when everybody has gone to bed and the house falls quiet

Tagging: @bobfloydsbabe @nobody7102 @sebsxphia

You had just finished cleaning up the last of the dishes and had run the tablecloth and napkins down to the basement to be put in the washer. The entire house had gone completely quiet with everybody having adjourned upstairs, the house still smelling heavily of Thanksgiving dinner and everyone full from the savory feast that had taken you and Bob at least three days to prepare.

You shut the lights off in the kitchen and blew out the candles on the dining room table, the cooking and casserole pans having been washed and neatly stacked while the dishes and silverware were being run through the dishwasher. Lady, your curly haired cocker spaniel, wove her way between your feet until you shooed her into the living room.

"Bob are you still awake?" you whispered.

Bob looked up at you, his features appearing much softer in the dim glow of the little switch-on candles that had been set up in the windows. His deep blue eyes appeared almost black, yet they gazed at you with a look of pure love and affection as he drew you into his lap.

"Look out the window," he whispered back.

You turned your gaze to the window in front of the recliner to find that it was snowing, heavy and hard, the ground already having accumulated a thick, fluffy coating of white, illuminated by the eerie glow of the streetlamps outside.

"Oh Bob it's so pretty," you murmured.

Bob placed a few gentle pecks on your cheeks, making you giggle. "And so aren't you Mrs. Floyd."

You settled into his lap, the both of you warm under the plush throw blanket that his older brother's wife had gotten you for a wedding gift. It was absolute heaven, being in your cozy home with the man you loved most.

"Dinner came out perfect, by the way," Bob mumbled, pressing his lips against your forehead.

"Mmmm, guess your dad's method of brining the turkey the night before really helped," you chuckled softly.

Bob yawned, his breath warm against your skin. His eyes drifted shut every so often from his belly being so full from dinner, but you couldn't help but admire the peaceful look on his face, even as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"You ready for Christmas soon?" you whispered.

"Hell no," he mumbled.

You both laughed a little as Lady settled into her bed near the chair, you and Bob drifting off into a deep sleep as the snow fell outside, your soft snoring being the only thing to break the quiet in your home. It was these times of year when you felt close as ever in the place you called home.

[milkistay]

what STRAY KIDS would do on valentine’s day 

pairing. skz x gn!reader

format. headcanons

chan

fancy dinner date

something about chan gives the impression that he’d really like doing the whole Dressing Up And Going Out extravaganza for valentine’s day. white tablecloths, gold champagne, decorative red rose centerpiece; chan’s gaze on you, thick with adoration, illuminated by the candlelight; a small, special gift handed to you shyly. he giggles at the cheesiness of it all but you look incredible and he’s never been more in love.

minho

home date

you best believe minho has a whole menu planned for you. multiple courses. drinks. sides. desserts. you spend the early evening as the sous chef, handing him spices and wooden spoons while pressing quick kisses to his cheek (he smiles every time). it’s sickeningly domestic. the dinner tastes fantastic of course, but not better than how the blush on minho’s face looks when you pay him the nth compliment of the night. you end the date on the couch, holding each other close and playing stupid games to decide who cleans up (you clean up together anyway).

changbin

chill dinner date

changbin adores taking his loved ones out to restaurants. he’d love to pick a old favorite spot or somewhere new and spend the evening sharing dishes with you and talking about anything and everything in your lives. and by the end of the night, when you’re both full of pasta or sushi or samgyeopsal, you’ll walk home together and changbin, ever so the gentleman, will drape his jacket over your shoulders. he lies in bed later, smiling at all the photos he took of you.

hyunjin

museum date

typical of our sweet hyunjin to want to take you to a museum. the winter rain is drumming on the windows but you’re protected by the quiet serenity of the museum. hyunjin leads you from room to room, holding your hand, and stops in front of every piece depicting two lovers, whispering, “that looks like us,” with a smile. and you listen, happily, when he begins to give you an art history 101 lesson because his eyes light up so beautifully. and when you finally leave, you duck into a small ramen shop and warm up while hyunjin flips through the new art book you bought him at the gift shop.

jisung

café date

what’s sweeter than a cold, winter morning spent inside a café sipping warm drinks with jisung? doing all of that one valentine’s day! jisung insists on trying their holiday specials (just a normal latte but with heart sprinkles or iced tea dyed pink and red) as you claim a small table in the corner, nothing in the world to care about expect for the loved one in front of you. it’s cozy, it’s familiar, it’s jisung’s favorite morning of the whole month.

felix

picnic date

felix is ever so endearing when he packs a bag with lunch and drinks and desserts and finds a perfect spot at the park—just under the light scatter of shade from a nearby tree. he lays his head in your lap while you play with his hair and the sun peeks through the leaves, golden spots across his cheeks. he brings flowers and chocolates, of course, along with a heart-shaped card that’s filled with his handwritten notes on all the things he loves about you (he writes small and squeezes words in every space, but he still runs out of surface area). a perfect afternoon spent, in his professional opinion. 

seungmin

movie date

honestly, it doesn’t matter which movie you watch because you barely end up even watching it. instead, cuddled up under one blanket on the couch and sharing each other’s favorite snacks, you and seungmin can’t stop talking long enough to actually pay attention. you’re trading stupid jokes and bits of stories from your weeks. you tell him about how you saw your friends earlier, he tells you about the annoyingly difficult new choreography he has to learn, you tell him about the puppy stuffie you saw in a store that reminded you of him, he tells you about his mom calling him to wish you a happy early birthday and so on and on and on. you fall asleep to the soft hum of the movie and seungmin fiddling with your fingers mindlessly.

jeongin

beach date

unbeknownst to you, jeongin has been planning this for weeks. he carefully selected the perfect beach—secluded, with a breathtaking view of the sea and the shore—and packed a bag with blankets and your convenience store drink of choice. you spend the whole afternoon with your feet in the sand and jeongin’s arm around you, looking out at the horizon and babbling about anything. and then the sun sets, staining the clouds colors of pink and orange, and finally, the constellations return to black sky. under the safety of the night, you and jeongin spill everything—dreams, hopes, silly wishes, sillier fears—and wonder how two people can be so perfect for one another. 

[redcatmusings]

~The Language of Love~

Prompt: Love Language

The soft rapping of rain against the window woke Lin from her rather peaceful sleep. As she turned to embrace the warmth of a body that should have been there, her eyes caught the clock on the wall while her arm met emptiness. It was far later in the day than her usual 6am rise, the darkened rain clouds having led her internal clock astray, which explained the absence in her bed. A soft, disappointed sigh escaped her lips as she rolled over and sat up into a stretch. Kuvira would already be at work and with the rain, Lin had little desire to run any errands. Probably for the best she thought, for last night they had decided to neglect chores in favour of expressing their love in more physical ways. A smile tugged at the corners of Lin’s lips as she recalled the evening’s events, making every bit of today’s cleanup worth it; though her brows furrowed in disappointment that Kuvira had not woken her before leaving. Slipping a white tank top over her head and tying the strings on her pants, Lin glanced at the photo of her retirement from RC Police Force. She had little doubt that Mako would do a good job of keeping the Force strong and unified; especially with Kuvira at his side. Lin walked into the living room on her way to the kitchen to grab some coffee before starting the cleanup effort.

What greeted Lin was a much different image than she expected. The clothing they had discarded in haste last night now lay in a basket destined for the laundry. The clean clothes previously occupying the basket were now folded on the edge of the sofa, uniforms and dress shirts ironed and hanging from a hook on the door. Couch blankets were also neatly folded and placed along the back while the pillows had been straightened up.

As Lin made her way to the kitchen, she passed the washroom and peeked her head in, curious to see if Kuvira had addressed the mess they’d made here. Sure enough, she had. The towels were hung to dry. The mirror no longer had a steamy handprint on it and the shower curtain they had pulled the edges loose of, had been replaced.

Moving on to the kitchen, Lin was greeted with another surprise sight. At the table was today’s newspaper neatly folded, the vase with an array of colourful flowers placed back at the center with the tablecloth evenly covering the wooden table. This wasn’t how they had left it previously, flowers pushed aside, tablecloth balled up in Kuvira’s hands as Lin leaned into her lover’s embrace.

At the far end of the kitchen on the counter rested a cup next to the coffee, accompanied by a note being held down by it. Lin’s green eyes scanned over the note written in a the most beautiful cursive; something only a skilled and attentive hand could muster. She takes as much care with her writing as she does with pleasuring her partners, Lin thought to herself.

My Stubborn Ox,

I dare not wake you from your blissful slumber.

I apologize for not being there when you wake,

but I hope you have a relaxing day all the same.

I’ve gone ahead and done a few chores before work

so the place isn’t such a disaster.

Love Your Metal Rose

A warmth engulfed Lin’s heart as she looked up from the note. Kuvira may not be here, but love was there, in all the little details. Everywhere she looked were little ‘I love yous.’ From the clothes that had been ironed, hung or folded in the way she preferred, to the dishes that now laid clean and drying in the rack. They accentuated her current lonely presence while embracing her in the promise of love’s return home. The thoughtfulness spoke to Lin’s heart in ways words never could and Kuvira knew this. To be at the forefront of her lover’s thoughts as Kuvira was in hers, made Lin’s heart fill with joy and longing. She made a slight scoffing sound through a smile as she folded her arms across her chest. Once the coffee was ready Lin filled her Chief Baefong mug, a standing joke with the RC Force, and took a seat at the table; flipping open the newspaper. “I love you too, my Metal Rose.” She said, as she took a sip of her coffee and began to read the news.

Meanwhile, as the rain softly connected with the windows of the RC Police Force, Kuvira sat at her desk for lunch amidst piles of paperwork. Nearby Bolin could be heard defending his new employment to Mako, claiming this time he had found his calling. Here we go again Kuvira thought, as the two brothers drew closer and she opened up her lunch. Inside was the array of crackers and cheese she had prepared along with some cut fruit. However, it appeared something else had been tucked inside the lunch bag. Kuvira reached in and produced two tickets to a theatre dance she had her eye on. Bolin leaned over her shoulder with Mako a few steps behind.

“Oooh, what’s that?” Bolin inquired while Mako brought the palm of his hand to his face.

“That’s love Bolin. True love.” Kuvira replied with a smile.

[merakiui]

I uh wanted to share a little horror snippet I wrote with Overblot Riddle! Hope you’re doing good btw

They brought the teacup to their lips, but instead of sweet black tea, a rotten taste filled their mouth. Yuu coughed into a nearby napkin, they look in shock at the black stains covering the fabric. One look into their teacup confirmed it. The pristine porcelain was filled with thick, black ink.

“Laws of the Queen of Hearts, Number 36: Guests of the Queen must finish their first cup of tea until the very last drop”, a familiar voice said. Yuu could have sworn Riddle hadn’t been there before.

While it did sound like him, there was something off. His voice was distorted, echoing in an all too familiar way. Yuu’s head felt like it was made of stone as they raised it to look at the boy across from them.

Skin like ashes and Ink dripping in a lace-like pattern down his glowing left eye.

No matter how many times Yuu closed and opened their eyes, he was still there, in all of his corrupted glory.

“Your Queen has issued a command, now drink”, he spoke again, picking at the tart on his plate. Yuu couldn’t help but look at the way the thick red syrup dripped down the pastry.

They picked up their teacup, hands shaking as the foul smell of blot burned their nostrils. It boiled and bubbled like a cauldron.

The student that had been attending them suddenly fell over, his upper body hitting the table. Yuu let out a yell as they saw it.

His head had been cut clean off.

Blood poured out from his neck and onto the tablecloth, soaking everything in ruby-red. The deep copper stench made Yuu’s stomach turn. A burning sensation on their hands took their attention away from the massacre before them. Their cup was overflowing, rising like the tides in the ocean as it spilled over.

It was burning, it surrounded them and covered them like a second skin.

Even with their ears filled with boiling blot, they could hear Riddle’s sinister laughter.

Yuu sat up straight, their blanket suddenly feeling too warm. They tossed it off quickly, breathing deeply to calm themselves.

What a strange dream.

I was just thinking about the Overblots omg!!! This is such a wonderful read, anon!! <3 thank you for sharing it!

All of the Overblots are unhinged, but I think what’s scariest about Overblot Riddle is the fact that, despite still being bound by rules, he’s willing to go to very extreme lengths to ensure they’re followed regardless of the consequences that come from doing so. Pre-Overblot Riddle is usually sensible and can show restraint (all he really does is collar those who broke the rules and administer an accompanying (usually harmless) punishment. Even with his temper, he’s still for the most part logical). But with Overblot Riddle you run the risk of an actual beheading if you so much as breathe incorrectly while the Queen takes his rightful place at the head of the tea party.

[morulezopelforever]

The Congressman and the Sea

After cluttering up AO3 with fics on #maurice, #call me by your name and #and then we danced I have now launched my first Fellow Travelers fic. Click on the link below and learn about Hawk's life after his divorce from Lucy and the memories that haunt him.

Here are some tidbits to tickle your tastebuds. Let's face it, we all love Hawk (though not always) and dear, adorable Skippy.

(Chapter 1)

On another occasion I said: ‘I’ll serve at the State Department until they get me a position overseas, and when I’ve sat that out I’ll quit and remain in the country where I was sent so that I can eat and drink whatever I want and fuck whomever I want with no one interfering.’

‘Can I come too?’ he asked, his sweet brown eyes full of light. ‘Please?’

He was my junior by ten years, his hair was shiny and dark-brown and he had an elegant, noble nose and the whitest of teeth. No girl would ever deign to look at such a plain-looking creature, but I  always saw beauty and extravagance where other humans didn’t.

I stroked his stubbled cheeks and kissed him. ‘No, dear, but of course you can come and visit. It’ll be fun.’

I’ll never forget the sad look he gave me then, the feel of his soft skin when he settled his head against my shoulder. My dear Skippy.

(Chapter 2)

The sand of Rehoboth Beach was so clean when Skippy and I had a stroll there. He had rolled up his pants and ran in and out of the surf uttering cries of delight. He picked up sea shells, stuffed them into his pockets and when he found a conch he held it to his ear.

‘Hello?’ he cried, drawing from his cigarette as if he were making a call at his office desk. ‘Is that you, Senator Hawk…What…? A weekend on your yacht in Acapulco…? Oh, that sounds swell…What, am I to bring my missus too? Now listen, Senator, I’ll leave her at home and then I’ll be all yours…Put your wife ashore in San Diego, will you? She won’t want for anything there, the place is full of muscular sailors and…Hello…? Senator, don’t hang up on me, please, faith and begorrah, aren’t you the fair prince awaiting me beyond the green hills of County Kerry…? Damn it, the line just went dead!’

He flung the conch into the sea while I stood there shaking with laughter. He was full of light and air, so beautiful, so young, and my fingers trembled when I snapped pictures of him.

(Chapter 3)

The apartment on Nineteenth Street had  large windows granting a breath-taking view of the Constitution Gardens. I spent many nights there claiming to Lucy that I was often too busy to commute all the way home or whenever I was out late anyway attending parties or dinners.

There was a large double mattress on the living room floor. The refrigerator and the gas stove in the kitchen still worked. The telephone had long been disconnected.

Tim gasped with joy when he entered the place for the first time. He loved the romantic, dark wallpaper and the teak floors. ‘I want to live here!’ he cried, which made us both laugh.

He soon turned the somber apartment into a home, dragging in bunches of flowers and putting them in Auntie’s crystal vases and spraying lavender or verbena scent onto the musty blankets.

We found a gramophone and some old records in a closet, and so we had music when we sat on the floor talking, smoking and sipping bourbon.

And, good God, his years of training as a boy scout and a soldier had made him into a chef. He fried steaks, sautéed potatoes in olive oil and garlic and whipped up the most extravagant salad dressings with fresh herbs, Dijon mustard and many things more. I provided the wine.

We dined on the floor using an old curtain for a tablecloth. The ceiling lights still worked, but he would never turn them on, also because he understood that no one should see from outside that this place was frequently used. He stuffed candles into empty bottles and lit them.

We were a couple in love, feeding one another tidbits and kissing every minute, with me pumping wine from my mouth into his and receiving dollops of chewed potato or haricots verts in return.

[nagaficat]

[ Dandelion ]

He’d taken his chances and calculated wisely.

After all, dandelions were soft to the touch at normal size– was he to expect otherwise simply because he’d been shrunken?

(That would be foolish. Obviously, he could expect more comfort resting atop one whilst the size of an ant.)

Linhardt was quite stellar at math. That said, when it came to comfortable naps, he was more likely than normal to skew the numbers.

That’s how he was one moment atop a dandelion asleep and the next on the ground, wondering where in the world he was. Lucky for him, in this state of confusion and disorientation, there was... (He blinks.)

...Professor Deirdre.

“Oh...” Another moment passes before he calls out, “Hello Professor. Mind helping me up?”

// (i have no idea if deirdre still needs this but I AM A MAN OF MY WORD!!!!!)

Deirdre rushes to Linhardt's side the moment she sees the stem of the dandelion begin to bow and a person roll out onto the grass. She is used to finding him asleep in unusual places but he could be hurt!

Fortunately, he seems quite calm as he wakes. She reaches her hand down to help him up, allowing their vine collars to bloom with new flowers, and gives him a glance over to check for any injury. He seems to be alright but her brow still creases with worry.

"My lord, are you alright? I am sure we can find you someplace safer to rest. There is a fairy ring not too far away that seems to be rather quiet. And I am sure the mice would not mind if I borrowed a clean tablecloth for you to use as a blanket. Would you like me to walk with you?"

[moira-shears]

In the Arms of her Hero

On a rare day that neither Cloud nor Tifa was working, and the crack of dawn was upon her, Tifa began to feel tired as she cleaned the bar with a tablecloth. Not only that, but she started to feel a little warm as well, but thought little of it and went back to work immediately. Before putting the cloth down, she felt a pair of large, strong arms gently curl around her abdomen. Looking up, she saw that the one holding her was also the one to whom her heart belonged, the man who loved her more than life itself, her husband, Cloud Strife.

It took Tifa a moment to process what was going on before she surrendered to Cloud’s loving kiss and relaxed in his arms. She did this by leaning back into him whilst his body warmth cascaded around her like a childhood blanket on a cold night. It was then that Cloud’s grip on her slightly tightened before he reached one hand up to her forehead.

“Tifa, you're burning up,” Cloud said, his voice filled with worry, “Why don’t you lie down a little?”

“Cloud, I feel fine,” Tifa said, “Just a little achy, that’s all,”

“Are you sure?” Cloud asked, “You’ve been working way too hard lately, are you sure you aren’t sick from the stress of all of it?”

“Alright, I feel a little tired as well,” Tifa admitted, “I think it’s the kids’ flu.”

“Oh, I’ll take a lie down with you,” Cloud said, stroking her warm cheek softly. Cloud walked Tifa into the living room where they quietly sat on the couch, with some pillows and a blanket. There Cloud quietly held Tifa in his arms and let her rest her head on his chest. As he stroked her back more, she gave a smile and nuzzled further in his arms.

“Would you like me to get you something?” Cloud asked.

“Some Wutaian green tea, please,” Tifa said. Cloud only gave a nod before he kissed Tifa’s forehead and got up into the kitchen where the kettle was boiled and two cups were laid out, with the bags in place. After pouring them, Cloud quickly got himself some cereal which he ate quickly before discarding the bags from the mugs.

Cloud sat on the couch with Tifa after passing her a cup. Together they both drank and watched the morning news on television, on which someone interviewed a physician about the current outbreak of the seasonal flu which, according to the physician, wasn’t anything to be alarmed about. Common symptoms of this flu consisted of mostly the typical symptoms, with some occasional nausea in adults, and lasted up to two weeks in some cases. Recommendations from the physician included that the patient not be involved in an activity too stressful and take time to get plenty of rest, and have medicine and warm drinks and meals.

“Tifa, I think it’s best you take a break for a while,” Cloud said, “At least until you get better…”

“Cloud, I…” Tifa hesitated for a long while before giving in to Cloud’s plea, “Yeah, you’re right. I could pass it on to someone else. What about you, Cloud?”

“I’ll reduce deliveries,” Cloud said, “I’ll only do ones on this continent.”

“Cloud, are you sure?” Tifa asked.

Cloud silently nodded and switched to a different channel. The channel however was changed again immediately due to a program showing an explicit surgery on the abdomen, one which neither appealed to Cloud nor Tifa.

They then switched to the kid's channel which was playing a funny old puppet movie about a moogle knight who embarked on an epic quest on his noble chocobo, Choco to save his princess Luna from the fire-breathing dragon that guarded the tower. Cloud and Tifa both laughed at this whilst feelings of nostalgia flooded their minds. Bravely, Sir Mog raised his sword against the dragon and faced him. With one slash, the dragon screamed dramatically before it fell, and Mog ran up the tower to the chambers of Princess Luna. With a kiss to show his love for the princess, the two were married a frame later and they lived happily ever after. Cloud and Tifa were laughing the entire time.

“I didn’t expect them to be playing something as old as Sir Mog and Choco’s Quest,” Tifa laughed, “It really brings back memories.”

Cloud nodded in agreement, “I believe I had the DVD for it back in the day. I wonder if we still have it… Maybe we could get the kids to watch it themselves.”

“Don’t you think they’re a bit old for it?” Tifa asked.

“Tifa…” Cloud said, “We’re in our twenties, aren’t we? Why were we still watching it?”

Tifa laughed, “Cloud, I was only joking,” she said. Cloud laugh himself before they once again changed the channel to a relaxing nature documentary. In it, the narrator spoke with a soft, kindhearted voice as he spoke about a pair of giant Waitain tortoises to the viewer. Both husband and wife were hooked onto this channel and continued to watch the endeavours of the tortoises unfold. The presenter reminded Tifa of her master Zangan in a way, with a similar personality and way of speaking. Eventually, when the presenter went on to a different animal, Cloud and Tifa both felt a sense of warmth inside themselves. The tortoises had found their way back to their family and thus were reunited.

“That was a lovely ending,” Cloud said, before not getting a response, “Tifa…?”

In his arms, Tifa who had finished her tea lay asleep in Cloud’s arms, breathing softly. After turning the television off, Cloud held Tifa closer before he picked her up in his arms, the same way he had many times before and carried her upstairs to their bedroom. There, he moved aside a sheet before laying Tifa down and tucking her in. Before leaving, Cloud kissed Tifa on the forehead and gave her a word of affirmation.

“Tifa, I’ll love you no matter what,” Cloud said before kissing her head again.

Whilst Tifa rested, Cloud sped down to the shops where he picked up some medicine for Tifa as well as the supplies needed. When he arrived and put them down on the table, Cloud gathered some cold and flu tablets which he brought up with a glass of water.

In their room, Tifa had only just called out Cloud’s name before she’d summoned him in. As her husband sat next to her, he passed the tablets and water. She quickly gulped down with a ‘thank you’ for Cloud, as well as another kiss.

“I was out shopping,” Cloud said, “These should make you feel better,”

“Thank you again, Cloud,” Tifa said. Suddenly, without apparent reason, Tifa started to cry, causing Cloud to hug and soothe her.

“There, Tifa,” Cloud said, “I’m not going anywhere. Do you want to have lunch?”

Tifa shook her head and Cloud briefly got up to grab a book before he sat down again. Holding Tifa he held the book wide open, but, before Cloud could read a word from it, Tifa started to shiver, causing Cloud to kick off his shoes and get under the blanket with her.

“Better?” Cloud asked. Tifa nodded with a small sigh, as she made herself comfortable in Cloud’s strong arms. Before he started to read to her, Cloud gave Tifa a small pat behind her neck and ears. Whilst he read, Cloud’s voice gave off a low, soothing tone which Tifa almost felt as he read the story of a dark knight who had just been fired from his position as captain of his fleet after questioning his king’s orders, recently carried out. This man reminded Cloud of himself, for the knight also had a childhood friend named after a flower. The man, however, could never love her due to his status as a dark knight. It was a tragic beginning, Cloud and Tifa both thought, and it would only become more tragic from there when the knight tried to redeem himself for the king, by burning down a nearby village. Eventually, when the chapter ended, Cloud found Tifa asleep in his arms, breathing quietly. Having woken up early himself, Cloud too began to sleep, the book set aside. His free hand joined around Tifa, causing her to snuggle closer, and Cloud relaxed.

Quietly, they both slept, though Cloud could feel Tifa’s warm body growing hotter, yet she shivered still. They held that position for a long time until eventually, a knock came on the door. Cloud did not get up to answer, instead, the door opened from the other side.

“Good morning, Cloud, good morning, Tifa,” Marlene said, “Why are you both dressed?”

Cloud lazily woke up and saw Marlene looking up at him with her cute gaze.

“Good morning, Marlene,” he said, “We both got up earlier, but went back to bed. Tifa’s not feeling well, she thinks it was the flu you had. How are you doing this morning?”

“I’m all better!” Marlene said, “When are you two going to get up?”

“Whenever Tifa’s up for it,” Cloud said, “Oh, and by the way, we’d watched a film called Sir Mog and Choco’s Quest. Have you ever heard of it?”

“Yes, I love that movie!” Marlene said, enthusiastically, “I watched it at Daddy’s place once.”

“It was on this morning,” Cloud said, “We thought you and Denzel might like it.”

After this encounter, Marlene quietly left the room and Cloud was left with a sleeping Tifa, whose cheek he gently caressed before he slept again.

Waking again, Cloud looked down to see that his wife was still asleep before fluttering her eyes open and bringing her hand up to her husband’s cheek. There, the couple kissed again before this time, they both got themselves out of bed and downstairs where they went about their day and had lunch together.

That night, though Tifa still cooked dinner, it was only a light one. When they went to sleep that night, though Cloud did not read to her, he held her gently in his arms before giving her a kiss goodnight. It was not a good sleep for Tifa, however. She woke up at three in the morning with a cough. This woke Cloud up, and as he saw her cough, he stroked her cheek and cuddled her.

“Tifa, let me get you some medicine,” Cloud said, “I’ll only be a minute.”

Cloud gave his wife a kiss before he got up and went downstairs. He came back up with a pair of tablets and a glass of water and Tifa thanked Cloud. After a gulp of both pills and water, the couple went back to sleep again. Tifa slept only a couple hours more before waking up with a cry and shiver. Once again, Cloud put his arms around her and gave her back a pat, before shushing her off to sleep again.

In her heart, Tifa felt for sure of one thing: Cloud would protect her from anything; their promise made underneath the starry night sky was one that knew no boundaries, not even sickness. Cloud was more than a husband to Tifa, he was her hero, ever since their night under the stars, and his heart that beat for her only reinforced that statement. Eventually, she was calm enough to sleep again, and his body warmth comforted her.

Eventually, she gave up on sleeping after seven and made her way down to the bar where she had some cereal. She ate slowly due to her sickness numbing her hunger, however. A loud cough was what summoned Cloud to her side, and joined her. There, they drank some Wutaian green tea, before Cloud stood up again.

“Tifa, I’ll be going in a few minutes,” Cloud said, “Rember on the news. The physician advised against stressful activities.”

“Alright, Cloud,” Tifa said, “Let me just make you something.”

“Thank you, Tifa,” Cloud said, kissing his wife’s cheek. After having a meal made, Cloud drove away on Fenrir, and Tifa was left by herself for the day, sorting out ingredients for the menu and throwing out food that had expired. Her symptoms began to worsen, with more frequent coughing and sneezing, as well as muscle aches. Her skin was more sensitive too, and when Marlene tried to hug her, she started to ache as soon as her daughter touched her. Together with Denzel, Marlene soon left the bar to go to school, and Tifa could relax. The day was nothing but a bore for the fighter who did nothing but watch television until she received a text message from Yuffie.

‘Hey, Tifa! Cloud’s in Wutai at the moment - told me you were sick, that sucks! But hey, don’t worry, I’m an expert! I was a nurse who treated patients in Wutai with geostigma, did you know? Anyway, Cloud stopped by my place and I made him something to give to you. You may need to heat it up in the microwave when he gets home, but it should do the trick. Oh, and I’m glad you liked that tea I gave you.’

Before Tifa could reply, there was another message: ‘P.S. I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer!’ from it, Tifa cancelled her reply and instead sent her a simple thank you. This acted as a reminder to Tifa to take her medicine with a glass of water. After this, she opted out of lunch, due to her loss of appetite. At around three, not only did Marlene and Denzel come back, but also Cloud who led the children inside and kissed his wife’s lips.

“Cloud, I thought you were only going around Edge!” Tifa said, “What were you doing in Wutai? And what’s that in your hand?”

“Yuffie gave me something that would make you feel better,” Cloud said, “Here!”

Cloud passed Tifa a warm thermos with a spoon, and lead her to the couch. When opening the container, a cloud of steam was emitted and flew up into Tifa’s nostrils, giving off the distinct smell of chicken soup, a welcoming scent to Tifa.

“Smells good,” Tifa said, “Did Yuffie make this all by herself?”

“I helped a little,” Cloud said, “I was surprised to learn that Yuffie could cook. This should help your symptoms a little bit. I’ll just be upstairs for a minute.”

Again, Cloud kissed Tifa on the head, whilst Tifa was left to drink Yuffie’s chicken soup, which hadn’t lost its hot temperature. Tifa again ate slowly, though she’d taken such favour in the taste, that it seemed too good to go to waste. Cloud came back down with the book in hand and pulled Tifa onto his lap.

After finishing her late lunch, Tifa leaned into Cloud who continued to read the book. In chapter two, it turned out that one of the beasts killed by the dark knight in the village was the mother of a little girl, around Marlene’s age. Though initially rebellious, she eventually joined the dark knight’s journey, whilst his friend, a dragoon, left. Eventually, they came to a village in the desert where it was discovered that the woman the dark knight loved had tried to follow him and ended up getting sick with desert fever. With the help of some new friends, the dark knight went off in search of a cure for the dreaded disease, and in a cave, he did. Once administered, the woman was better in minutes. The chapter ended with the woman joining the dark knight’s quest to the next kingdom. After this, Cloud marked the book and put it aside, to turn his focus to holding Tifa in his arms.

“They’re just like us…” Tifa said with some tiredness and coughing in her speech.

“Who…?” Cloud asked.

“Cecil and Rosa,” Tifa said.

“Y-yeah!” Cloud said, “They really are.”

“I love you, Cloud,” Tifa said.

With a returned confession, Cloud gave Tifa a kiss on the lips before she gave out a deep breath, relaxed into Cloud’s arms, and closed her eyes. Cloud cuddled Tifa closer and kissed her head again. A second confession offered no response from Tifa, and Cloud laid down with her, knowing that she'd always feel safe in the arms of her hero.

[christas-museum]

The Child Manuela: Mädchen in Uniform book (new translation)

CHAPTER 1: IV

For more parts (updates are at least once a week), click #The Child Manuela translation

At lunch, it is very quiet today. Ali and Berti spoon their soup in silence. Dad doesn't speak a word, and Ali looks distraughtly at mother. She tries to be usual self, but her lower lip is trembling, and she doesn't eat. Lela has a vague feeling as if she were guilty, as if she has done something wrong. It was so beautiful, but maybe one doesn't allowed to do it? Maybe it's something similar to the Catholic Church? Silently she goes upstairs and doesn't dare—as Alfred does—to hug her Mum, after Dad has slammed the door behind him.

Lela goes to Laura. Laura is her dove. She sticks her little nose into the wings and kisses Laura on the neck where she has a little black ring of feathers. Laura's red clawed feet clings to her little fingers, Laura's feathers smell so lukewarm and good.

"Laura, I love you so much!" She says softly, and a big tear rolls down on the feathers. Something is written on most of plates.

Lela has a cloth in her hand and a blue apron, and so does Mum, and the whole table is full of silver. Candlesticks that one can screw together and take apart, plates with funny edges. Many, many forks and knives. But Lela shouldn't touch them. She has a silver bread basket in front of her that has a very thin grid all around, so her little fingers can get inside and clean. Something is written on most of the plates. For example, Our dear Meinhardis as a farewell to his regiment, or, First prize in flat racing. Memorial race of Ziethen. And a date. From one Mum reads out, "To my dear Kammerkatze." — "Mum, what does that 'Kammerkatze' mean?"

"Kammerkatze? That was a horse, a very good horse. But Dad sold him."

"Why, Mum?"

"Because Dad can't have that many horses."

"Why can't he have that many horses?"

"Because it costs too much. They eat too much."

"They just eat oats, Mum."

"Oh, little one, you don't understand!" And a deep sigh escapes from Mum's chest.

Lela feels that she should not ask any more questions. Quietly, she cleans the little basket. Then comes something else. "We must open the table," Mum says, and everybody always has to help. There the dining table is grabbed and simply pulled apart in two directions. Lela moves along, and Flink barks. Flink is a brown dog of an indeterminate breed, who likes to have a say when something special is happening, and today is so special; because guests are coming.

Many boards are inserted between the torn apart table parts, they are supported from below, and Lela and Flink crawl under the table where it's dark and check to see if everything's right, and then a green felt blanket comes over it, and then a huge long damask tablecloth.

Mum goes with Lela to the linen cupboard. Lela watches attentively as Mum's hands count the high stacks of napkins. Mum has long, very white fingers; Lela likes her hands so much. When Mum's hand gets lost on my head now and then, she thinks, or between my dress and my neck; it's so good with Mum! Papa does that sometimes too, but it just tickles. It's terrible, Lela continues to think, looking up at her mother from below, that Mum always does her hair so smooth in the morning. When the hair is a little loose and curled, Mum looks much prettier, and then sometimes visitors come, and the visitors see Mum with her tight, tight hairstyle, and it's so bad that Lela hides, as if she herself doesn't have a good haircut. But at the moment, Mum has no time for Lela. Lela has to carry napkins. Now it clinks. Mum is at the sideboard—she takes out one crystal bowl after the other. Lela is allowed to wipe them out, and then Mum opens compote jars, and thick green fruits are poured into the glistening bowls. It doesn't look so funny from above, but from the side, where the glass is cut. And now little yellow plums and red cherries in another one, and black nuts into the next. One at a time, they are placed on the table. Now comes the fruit bowl; Lela is allowed to open the bags. Oranges, grapes, apples, nuts, almonds, dates, just like on Christmas.

"Mum, why do we only have this for guests and never for ourselves?"

"Because we are poor people, child."

Lela is silent. How sad that is, she thinks, that we are poor people. But why are we poor? Dad has horses; poor people don't have horses. Mum has ball gowns; poor women don't have ball gowns. And we also have silver, and many tablecloths, and a butler.

"Mum, do poor people always have a servant?"

"You are a little silly one, my darling. You don't understand."

[seasons-of-ceres]

Oh, Summertime

A/N: I have not written Overwatch stuff in forever but I've been having soft Cole Cassidy thoughts lately and wanted to do something productive. My neck of the woods is currently under a heat warning, so doing anything is just bleh, but I'm glad I at least did this.

The technician takes out the pole because one of the alley cats runs in front of his car, and he swerves out of the way and has no choice but to take out the electricity for the whole block. We collectively retreat to our basements when we aren’t filling coolers with ice and perishables. Lena is cobbling a fruit salad together, and I’ve told her it will explode because of all the acid from the oranges and grapefruit—I did the same thing one summer and it took thirty minutes to scrub my fridge clean, along with a good fifteen other minutes to clean the condiment containers and other containers. I did find a few berry seeds last week, nearly two years after the initial incident. Dad would’ve scolded me for not being thorough, Cassidy just laughs.

            (Emily defuses the fruit salad bomb, by the way.)

            Celsius pegs the temperature at thirty, it’ll fluctuate between twenty-fire and maybe even go beyond the infernal thirty. My cramps crumple me in half, I’m overly anxious about smelling like blood and sweat which is why I initially came to hide in the basement. The concrete is cold, I don’t know about the insulation, I know everything is unfinished; the pipes from the bathroom are bare and covered by cobwebs, the rush of water from the toilet pinpoints where Cassidy’s at in the house. I hear his feet above me, checking my room and then his, the living room. He pauses. I groan and bury my face in a pile of blankets rife with dog hair, and then—

            “Darlin’?”

            “Down here!”

            Footsteps. The fifth and twelfth steps creak as he comes down. I raise my hand and wave when his eyes adjust to the darkness, and he spots me in a heap.

            “Oh, sweetheart,” he rumbles, “that bad?”

            “Yep.”

            Cassidy thrives in heat or else he’s immune. In comparison I’m lethargic and cranky, but the ease with which he moves implies a level of skill I haven’t acquired. Never will. Those of us born in winter linger always in frost. Still, his body reacts with the climb in temperature so like me Cassidy has found a pair of airy shorts that won’t stick to him. Big difference is the thin vest dripping off his shoulders, I reach out and press my palm into his stomach once he sits down.

            “How are you so much cooler?”

            He chuckles a little self-consciously, pulling my hand up between his pecs where it sinks into his chest hair.

            “Just built different.”

            “Jealous.”

            Cassidy shrugs. “You take anything?” He moves onto his side, running a finger along my hairline, curling hair off my face and behind my ear. “No use sufferin’.”

            While I do agree—suffering is needless—I also know this happens every forsaken month and I ought to buck up and deal with it. The pain will probably pass if I distract myself and do literally anything else, it usually does.

            “Mm.”

            Cassidy cocks his head, eyebrows furrowing as he lays a hand over my hip, thumb pressing insistently against my hipbone. I sigh, uncurling slightly, wanting nothing more than to bury myself into him. But it’s hot and I can’t stand prolonged physical contact.

            “Come on,” he coaxes gently, “you know I’m right.”

            I blow a raspberry at him. “That requires getting up and walking upstairs into strife and heat.”

            He chuckles and sits up, ignoring my pathetic whine. I curl up again, watching him examine the cold basement floor. Most of our laundry is done, what’s left are bedsheets and blankets and tablecloths. He hums thoughtfully and kneels, hand over my shoulder.

            “Lemme do something real quick, OK?”

            “Go for it.”

            He manhandles me off my throne of blankets, folding a few of the fluffier ones into a solid foundation, and then swirling the rest into a landlocked cyclone. He lays me back down and promises he’ll be right back. I shrug, wondering if anyone else ever took a bunch of their toys and hid them in blankets, moulding them into caves or glaciers with tunnels and caverns. Cassidy walks the perimeter of the kitchen, the medicine cabinet opens with a click, shuts with a click. Then he moves further into the house again, near our rooms. Back down the hall, pause, through the kitchen.

            “Still alive?” he calls down the stairs.

            “Surviving.”

            He produces an array of snacks in one arm with a tray of disposable cups, a pitcher of water, and something for the cramps and the headache in the other. Another object is tucked under his arm. It’s a good trick. Forgetting how shitty I feel, I’m suddenly awake and standing to take the load out of his arms. He sneaks a kiss into my hair as I grab what’s under his arm and take the tray.

            “There you are.” He says softly.

            “Oh, stop.”

            Few things have the same power as the warmth and tenderness in Cassidy’s voice. I am never going to get over it, never ever, and he knows. He knows and relishes every moment of it.

We settle back on the concrete, and I realize the object under his arm is a heating pad. Cassidy scoffs at the look on my face, pushing a cup of water into my hands and unscrewing the cap from the ibuprofen. He jiggles a single pill out and presses it into my free hand.

            “Helped when I had mine.” He says shrugging, watching me swallow. “You never use one?”

            “No. I’m all about that needless suffering.”

            He shifts closer and gathers my hair out of my hair and off my shoulders, yanking a scrunchie off his wrist and tying everything back.

            “Well. Not anymore.” His hands slide over my cheeks, and he brings our faces together, noses brushing. “How’s that sound?”

            “Great.”

            The heating pad does not require a plug. Cassidy simply presses one of three buttons and fits it against my abdomen as it heats up, we lie on our sides with cookies and chips between us. For a while, there’s no sound except for our quiet breaths and the hum of his prosthesis; my fingers trace out the different parts from the segments of his fingers to the larger panels of his arm, the cool blue lights running throughout it. He can’t feel this, but he humours me with a pleasant sigh and touches his forehead to mine.

            “Better?”

            “Much. Thanks.”

            “Anytime.” His lips press into my forehead. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

[lesbianjackies]

Almost Normal

February Prompt #4: Dinner Date

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,011

Warnings: Mentions of food and eating, but other than that, none! It's very fluffy :)

Summary: Remus feels you deserve a "normal" relationship, so James, Sirius, and Peter decide to do their best to make it feel almost normal.

A/N: My first Remus Lupin fic!! Let me know what you think!!

Remus Lupin wanted nothing more than to be normal. Well, normal by wizard standards, at least. He wanted the scars to go away, the years he’d aged to go back in time, and most of all, he wanted to stay human during a full moon. He wanted this for himself, of course, but he also wanted it for you. You were perfect, in his eyes, and he was… not. You were smart and pretty and kind and bubbly and creative and amazing, and he was a monster.

“What’re you wallowing about, Moony?” Sirius slung an arm around his shoulder.

Remus slunk away from him. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“C’mon, Moony,” James joined in. “You’re a rubbish liar.”

Remus scowled.

“He’s looking at (Y/N),” Peter noticed.

“Trouble in paradise?” James teased.

“Oh, don’t tease him, Padfoot,” Sirius said, his tone equally mocking. “He’s just wondering how he scored her.” He nudged Remus. “Isn’t that right, Moony?”

“Basically,” Remus mumbled.

“Oh, come on, Moony.” James changed his tone. “We were just taking the piss, mate.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “You and (Y/N) are great together.”

“Whatever.” Remus buried his face in his book.

“What do you mean, ‘whatever’?” Sirius said. “You can’t really be insecure about your relationship.”

Remus slammed the book down. “What do you mean!? I don’t deserve her and you all know it. I know it. She’s- she’s amazing, and I’m…” He lowered his voice. “I’m a werewolf.”

“Come on, mate,” James tried to console him. “She doesn’t care about that.”

“Well, she should. What if I accidentally hurt her? Or- or kill her?” Remus sighed. “I wish I could just be normal. She deserves that. A normal boyfriend - a normal relationship.”

“What even is a normal relationship?” Sirius said. “Do you really think James and Lily have a ‘normal relationship’?”

“It’s more normal than me,” Remus argued. “James isn’t- James isn’t like me.”

James sighed. “Look. You’re not gonna have a normal relationship. But if it would really make you feel better, we can do our best to make it feel… almost normal.”

Remus frowned, looking up at his friends. “What do you mean, ‘almost normal’?”

“Take her on dates,” Sirius suggested.

“Normal dates,” Peter added.

“What does that even mean!?” Remus asked, exasperated.

“Go out to dinner,” James said. “That’s like, the most normal date ever, right?”

“I guess…” Remus said uncertainly. “I don’t really think this is gonna fix anything, though.”

“But it might,” Sirius said. He helped him up. “C’mon, it’s worth a try, right? You said you wanted a normal relationship.”

“Yeah, but I meant more like - “

“Let’s go,” James interrupted him. “We have a dinner date to plan.”

James, Sirius, and Peter set to work immediately. They cleaned the dorm, set up a table, and put a nice blanket that could serve as a tablecloth over it. Sirius then snuck into the kitchens while James and Peter set the table and put a pretty vase of roses in the center. Sirius came back with far more food than was needed - he insisted they needed snacks after their hard work.

“So, what do you think?” James asked after they finished.

“It’s really nice,” Remus said. “I just don’t think - “

A knock sounded on the door before he could finish his sentence. “Remus? Sirius said you needed me.”

“She’s already here!?” Remus hissed.

James and Sirius smiled devilishly and apparated away. Peter smiled apologetically and disappeared after them. Remus stared at the empty space his friends had previously occupied in horror.

“Remus?” you said. “Are you in there?”

“Uh, yeah, love!” Remus opened the door and smiled at you awkwardly.

You stepped in and gasped. “Did you do this, Remus?”

“Um…”

“Doesn’t seem like the kind of date you would want to go on,” you commented with a teasing smile. “You normally just want to read or study together in the library.”

“Yeah, well, um…” Remus flapped his hands uncomfortably. “Have a seat?” He pulled out a chair and it promptly fell over. He cringed.

You laughed. “You didn’t set this up, did you?”

“I- um- “ He frantically looked around the room as if searching for a way to escape.

“Remus.” You walked over to him. “I know you. Sirius and James set this up, didn’t they?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked down in defeat. “Yes,” he mumbled.

“Why’d they plan this?” you asked. “I mean, it’s really nice, but it’s definitely not our style.”

Remus laughed, a little relieved. Then he remembered why they set up the dinner date and sobered immediately. “I… I was upset because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I kept saying that you deserved a normal boyfriend and a normal relationship and they thought this would help. They said a dinner date was the most normal relationship thing ever, so they set it all up. I’m sorry. You really do deserve better than a werewolf for a boyfriend, and no dumb dinner date is ever gonna change that.”

“Oh, Remus.” You pulled him into a hug and he buried his face in your neck. “I love you, okay? Lycanthropy and all. I don’t want a normal boyfriend or a normal relationship. I want you. You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met - you’re sweet and smart and caring and I love you so much. Don’t ever think of yourself as anything less than that, okay?”

Tears slipped down from his eyes, soaking your sweater, and he hugged you even more tightly. “I love you too, (Y/N).”

You kissed his head, releasing the hug and taking his hand instead. “Now, we’re not really gonna let all this food go to waste, are we?”

He let out a watery laugh, wiping away his tears. “Definitely not.”

The two of you sat down at the table, and as you ate and talked and laughed, Remus knew that your relationship would never be normal. Maybe not even almost normal. But it was perfect, and he loved it just the way it was.

[dc418writes]

•|Gratuity (3)|•

✨Pairing✨: mob!Ari LevinsonxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: You find out what exactly Ari had in mind for that perfect date

⚠️: insinuations to naked hugs, fluff mixed throughout, mention of death, cheating (?…you’ll see)

A/N🎙: Hey guys! For those interested this is the next chapter of my little series☺️ (well one of them lol). I feel like my last chapter sucked and wasn’t really interesting so I hope you like this one! Also I’m gonna go ahead and apologize now because I know this one’s long (possibly the longest I’ve written yet😬) and because I write on mobile I’m not able to add the Read More line.

It had been a week exact from being invited to Ari’s party, and you had yet to hear from him again.

No text. No call. He hadn’t even come for his morning usual.

Unfolding the white tablecloth and sliding it along the square dark wood before setting it with the recently cleaned dishes, your mind wanders through every detail of that night as it had many times before. Ari gave you a tour of the immaculate mansion, privately getting to know you with every step down a dim hall. Of the few pictures that were hung, one particular showing Ari as a little boy sitting in his uncle’s lap mid laugh prompted stories from both of your childhoods making you fall even more for the bachelor.

He never personally knew his father who left while his mother was only halfway through her pregnancy. Knowing she’d have a difficult time caring for a child by herself, Ari’s uncle moved both of them in with him, his wife, and their full help staff. She insisted on working until she could save up enough to stand on her own, even though his uncle didn’t mind them staying for as long as she wanted. They were family, and they were both raised to do whatever they could for their blood.

Three years later, and she was close to the goal she’d set for herself. A steady job that paid well and feeling comfortable enough that she could care for little Ari by herself. However, a car accident extended his stay with his uncle indefinitely, killing his mother on impact when a drunk driver decided to speed on the wrong side of the road.

Being so young of course he couldn’t really remember a lot of his mother, but you could see the hurt in his eyes looking over the lone picture of her sitting on a blanket in the grass. Her hand comfortably on her extended abdomen as she smiled at the camera.

“This probably sounds strange, but there’s times I miss her as if I knew every little thing about her. Or was able to watch her grow old,” he speaks in a hushed whisper. Soft blue eyes finally meeting yours when you held his hand.

“It’s not strange at all. I’m no expert or anything, but I feel like you’re also missing what could have been, which can live in your head and make the pain even worse.”

Maybe his absence was due to regret of sharing so much of himself so early. That things were moving too fast for his liking with a girl that may not spark his interest anymore.

“Y/N, mind helping me with some boxes in the back?,” your manager asks just as you’ve finished setting your last table.

“Yea sure,” you answer following behind. Silently thankful for the welcomed distraction of her small talk.

———

The aroma of pan seared steak mixed with a pasta or soup of some sort is quick to settle along the walls of his nostrils shortly after entering the busier restaurant. It was a stark contrast to the usual smell of coffee and pastries he’d encounter all those mornings sitting in his booth waiting for your angelic glow, but it was still welcomed from the light grumble of his stomach. Beige turtleneck over his fitted, dark brown slacks and caramel dress shoes, he’s a slave to routine striding towards his empty booth immediately picking up the menu now displaying their lunch and dinner options.

“And what can I get for you handsome?”

A very appreciated compliment, but definitely not from the voice he expected—or wanted it to come from.

Sleek, black hair in a high ponytail, her hazel eyes seemed to drink in his muscular frame and sharp features as she stood tapping a pen against her cherry painted lips. Judging from the sensual smirk, she was clearly enjoying the man in front of her.

“Um I actually need more time if you don’t mind,” he politely smiled.

“Sure thing. I’ll be back in a few.” Ari could feel himself deflate at the possibility of you not being in today. Not seeing your warm smile or the cute way you’d get distracted telling a story. Midway through a totally different yet connected tale before shyly apologizing.

He never did mind though, addicted to the sweet sound of your voice.

The quick flash of movement in his peripheral has his joy restored turning to see you behind the bar wiping out various kinds of glasses. Making sure his previous waitress wasn’t walking towards the table, his legs and brain were on a faster accord carrying him to the vacant bar.

“You can’t change up on me like that angel,” he speaks slightly making you jump. “Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Seeing your eyes brighten and you become flustered, almost knocking over the glass beside you has the sweetest smile gracing his pink lips, and heart warming his entire chest more than any cup of coffee could.

“Ari! Um, I-I mean hi.” What kind of magic did this man hold to make you act like this?

“So, they moved you back here?,” he asks folding his arms on the glossy wood. His biceps and pecs bulging against the cotton sweater nearly have you losing your train of thought.

“No, just covering for someone today. Tomorrow I’ll be back to my usual section.”

“Good to know.”

“I was wondering where you ran off to so quick,” Ari’s waitress, Rosalyn from her name tag, smiles at the brunette before turning her attention to you. “If I didn’t know any better, it looks like you were trying to steal my customer Y/N.”

“Actually Y/N is an old friend of mine. I just came to visit her really,” he winks at you before reaching in his wallet removing a crisp $50 bill appearing as if it was just printed minutes ago. “For your trouble though.”

Of course she was happy to receive a big tip, but the fact that quite possibly the most handsome customer she’d seen yet was occupied with someone else made her smile falter meeting your eyes. “Thank you sir.”

“You know Rosalyn’s a great waitress. She could’ve helped you,” you state once she moved back to her—well your usual section.

“I’m sure she is, but once I get used to someone I like to stick with them.” You were at a loss for words not knowing whether it was a compliment or just a simple statement. The sultry look in his eyes along with the natural and effortless lick of his lips though, tells you it might be the former of the two.

“Oh, um that’s-,” you can’t even formulate a sentence with your brain trying to keep your body upright on your weak knees. Taking a break from his intense yet soft eyes, you notice the red scrapes and light blue bruises along the knuckles of his right hand immediately twisting your face into concern. “What happened?”

“Just me being accident prone,” he chuckles now hiding his hand in his lap. “I was moving some furniture and scraped it against the wall.”

“But, the bruises-,”

“I’m fine angel. Honest,” he smiles. “I do need your help with something though.”

“O-Okay, what is it?”

“I was invited to the ballet tomorrow, but I really don’t want to go by myself. Was wondering if you might be interested in joining me?” Of course you were. You’d immediately say yes if it weren’t for you remembering you hadn’t heard or spoken to him in a week, thoroughly confusing you about Mr. Levinson.

Your mouth opens once, then twice before his larger hand covers yours on the hardwood. It’s warm. Equal parts rough and soft, and you miss how it felt against your side the night of the party.

“Hey, talk to me,” he states. “If you don’t want to go-,”

“No I do. I just…I haven’t heard from you in a while and thought…well, maybe-,”

“That I wasn’t interested? Trust me when I say I still am angel. I’ve just been so busy setting up the new office and work, I barely have time to piss.” Great, now you look like the crazy girlfriend that always jumps to conclusions. And you weren’t even a girlfriend.

“I’m sorry. You were just working and I’m over here panicked it was me, or something happened. I-I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No don’t apologize.” His easy smile radiates all around you along with his charm. How does he do that? “I wanted to call or text, but life got in the way. I assure you though I will make that time up to you.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me, and I know I don’t have to. I want to. That is, if you’ll let me.” Feeling the soft hairs of his beard prickle your knuckles and warm lips meet your skin has a barely audible gasp escaping you. However from his short chuckle, Ari still managed to hear it.

Clearing your throat, you try to compose yourself as he slowly lets your hand slip from his gentle hold. “Okay, I’ll be there. W-With you that is. I’d like to go with you Ari.”

“It’s a date then.”

———

“Aww look at you Miss Cinderella! All you’re missing is your crown.”

Backing up just enough that your full body came into view of your upright phone screen, you can’t help the giddy smile as you twirl making the metallic blue, a-line dress shimmer and flow along your legs. Luckily, your bridesmaid dress from your brother’s wedding still fit after two years.

“I think the crown might be too much Ty,” you giggle spritzing yourself with your usual vanilla perfume. “I honestly feel like this dress is a bit much too.”

“Trust me, it’s not. Pretty much everyone there is gonna be dressed in their designer gowns and suits, I’ve gone enough times.”

“I just don’t wanna be overdressed.”

“Y/N, you look great and Mr. GQ isn’t gonna be able to control himself once he sees all that thigh,” she winks making you laugh. This is why you wished she was able to physically be there with you. To help calm your anxious nerves and deter your thoughts to things more lighthearted so you wouldn’t get so in your head you’d cancel.

“Tyla, what if-,”

“No! No what ifs,” she points at her screen taking a break from her computer and whatever she was typing. “Be present and try not to constantly be thinking about if you’re doing something wrong. It’s a date, have fun.”

Before you can answer, two short knocks on your door have your mouth dry and heart nearly bounding out of your chest knowing who was there. “Coming! That’s him, I gotta go.”

“Ok, call or text when you get home. And remember what I said!”

“I’ll try,” you sigh saying your short goodbyes after. With one last look in the mirror, you take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves and racing heart. You couldn’t let Ari see you nearly on the brink of hyperventilating, thus marking the start of a terrible night.

“Sorry, I was-,” you start, door open just enough that your words became lodged in your throat taking in the man in front of you. Hair slicked back and beard appearing freshly lined and trimmed, you mentally groan that he always seemed to have this effect on you. Black, velvet blazer over his black long sleeve, black slacks, and matching dress shoes, the gold medallion hanging around his neck brought even more attention to his broad chest.

“How do you manage to leave me breathless every time I see you angel?” Standing under his gaze roaming up and down your body has you feeling even more shy, shifting from one leg to the other.

“I really should be asking you,” your mouth speaks before your brain can stop it. The way your eyes shut and head taps the side of the wooden door embarrassed your words couldn’t stay in your head as planned makes a low chuckle escape his pink lips, and finger gently tilt under your chin to face him.

“You’re too cute you know that?”

He loved how adorable you were. From the way your fingers fiddled with your necklace when you were nervous to how you’d dip your head when you fumbled over your words accidentally talking to fast, he ate it up every time.

And little did you know, it brought a soft smile to his face whenever he needed it throughout the day.

“Ready to go?,” he asks offering a bent arm to escort you to his waiting car. You’re not surprised to see he owned the newest Audi A4 that reflected the overhead lights of the garage against its matte black exterior. If it were dark enough and you weren’t careful, you might miss it from it being camouflaged to it’s surroundings.

Ever the gentleman, Ari opens your door before smoothly walking to the other side and getting in himself. Him checking to see that you’re settled and comfortable before driving off has a giddy smile forming on your lips and a flock of seagulls in your stomach.

The way his hand grips the steering wheel and watch shines on his wrist with every turn doesn’t help ease that feeling. And the soft “may I?,” as his other hand rests palm up just below the radio waiting for yours definitely doesn’t help the new heat rising. You were glad the eye contact was at a minimum as you both talked, or else you’d surely be a mess from nervous sweats.

“I honestly didn’t peg you as a ballet or theater guy,” you speak once stopped at a red light. The short peek of his gleaming teeth from his amused grin leaving you weak and happy you were already sitting down.

“Why’s that? I don’t look sophisticated enough?”

“No! No, I guess because you always seem to be on the go I figured sitting down to a show wouldn’t be your first choice for a night of fun.” There’s that deep chuckle again accompanied by the light squeeze of your hand in his.

“I’ll admit it’s not my first choice, but it definitely isn’t my last.” Naturally, you were intrigued and wanted to know more.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” you smile briefly meeting his eyes before his attention was back on the busy street. He loved how you were visibly becoming more comfortable around him, giving glimpses to the side of you kept hidden away.

“…my first choice, going to a game.”

“Figures,” you thought gently nodding your head.

“My last would be skydiving.”

“Afraid of heights?”

“No, I just don’t like the idea of jumping out of a plane and trusting a flimsy piece of fabric.” A very understandable concern to have. “Your turn.”

“Okay, um first choice…watching the sunset in the park. Last is going on a cruise.”

“Hm, first time I think I’ve heard someone not like cruises. Bad experience?”

“No, I’ve uh never been. The rooms seem small and I don’t like tight spaces.” From his peripheral, he can see you uncomfortably shift, although subtle, in your seat making him graze his thumb over the back of your hand after giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

“Don’t be. I mean you told me yours, it’s only right I tell you mine.”

“You don’t have to angel, you don’t owe me anything.” Finally parked and waiting for the valet, he’s able to fully gaze at you. The golden lights built into the hanging overhead of the building shining through the tinted window enough to enhance your already light glow.

“I know, but I want to,” you softly smile. “I was in kindergarten and we were playing hide and seek in the gym. There were these cubby like lockers off to the side so I hid there. A few seconds after, someone slid something in front of the door not knowing I was there, and no matter how much I tried I couldn’t get it open. I wanted to scream but I was hyperventilating so bad, all I could do was cry. The teacher told my parents it was only five minutes, but it felt like an hour until anyone found me thus embarrassingly leading to my claustrophobia.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed, and I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with me to tell me that.”

With his free hand, he comfortably grips your chin feeling entranced by your deep brown orbs and desperately wanting to feel your rose lips against his since you opened the door looking like the goddess you were. The flicker of your eyes from his to his lips and back as you lean forward has him following your lead, nearly an inch away before a knock on his window makes a frustrated stream of air escape his nostrils.

“Sorry for the wait sir. Would you still like your car parked?,” the young, lanky looking valet asks immediately after Ari lowers his window. Giving him his keys and opening your door, your hand returns to its new home in his as you’re escorted along red, velvet like carpet lining the entire floor of the theatre’s lobby. Tyla was right about the expensive gowns and suits. Everyone around you looked regal or as if they’d walked straight off a fashion week runway to the historic building. And although you were dressed similar, you still felt inadequate, like you were a cat trying to masquerade as a dog.

“Ari, Miss Y/N,” a mystery man greets standing in front of you both. Hands clasped in front of his body, his larger and slightly huskier frame towered over you but was about equal height to Ari. His piercing green eyes made it impossible to look away from their beauty and the intensity of their nearly clear color. Your mind began to wonder how this person could know you when you’ve never met him before until the slight turn of his neck showed the intricate ink along his skin more clearly.

You recognized that dragon tattoo from the party. He was one of the stoic looming figures outside the room Ari and his uncle were meeting in. Needing the restroom, you walked through the common area briefly making eye contact before scurrying on your way. You spoke saying a soft hello, but apparently he didn’t hear. He simply stood similar to how he was now but definitely more intimidating.

“Y/N, this is Leo. He’s my personal assistant,” Ari introduces as you shyly raise your hand in a quick wave. “Everything good?”

“Yea, also saw Monroe a few minutes ago. He said he’d be seated near the front.”

“I’ll have to give him a visit during intermission then,” he smiles beginning his strides towards a more secluded set of escalators and stairs.

“Are we not sitting out there?,” you ask a bit confused as you’re both followed by Leo.

“No, our section’s a bit higher but I think you’ll like it.”

Overlooking the entire theater, the velvet lined box seat with velvet and gold chairs made you feel like the Queen of England looking down at her subjects. Now that you were seated you were honestly glad to be in your own box. There was no one blocking your view or continuously talking, seemingly knowing nothing about whispering as if they wanted to be heard over the actors. Why couldn’t movie theaters have seats like this?

“You like it?,” Ari asks, crystalline like eyes hopeful of your answer.

“I love it, it’s the perfect view,” you softly smile. Mentally swooning over the single dimple near the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome angel.”

The lights dimmed around you signaling the beginning of the first act and the murmuring around the room to cease. Neither of you had heard of this production, but it seemed to be a retelling of Romeo and Juliet from the details of the program found in your seats. As the first ballerina graced the stage, you were drawn in following every movement and additional dancer that gracefully spun and glided across the floor.

And although beautiful, Ari couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

How the soft smile had yet to leave your face as the act progressed. How your emotions also changed with the orchestra pieces, becoming concerned when the bass of the cellos became heavier, and then giggling along with the bouncier notes as the two lovers playfully danced around each other. How the glow of the stage lights brought more attention to your curled lashes and how they occasionally fluttered along your soft cheeks.

No one could convince him you weren’t an angel or some ethereal being. He’d collected too much evidence to prove them otherwise.

A light tap to his arm has his smile faltering, turning to see Leo motioning forward with his head. Up ahead trying to stealth-fully leave his seat while not distracting others from the show, was Monroe.

“Should I track him down?”

“No, he’s not rushing or panicked so I doubt he’s leaving. Plus looks like he has a date who didn’t go with him. He’ll be back.”

“Want me to collect for you?”

“Nah, this is a message I need to get across myself.” Turning back towards you, his soft smile returns seeing that you were still focused on stage. He hated to leave you even for a minute, but business called.

“Angel,” he whispers leaning close to your ear and lightly caressing your arm. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh um okay. I-Is everything fine?”

“Yea just need the restroom. You keep enjoying yourself though, let me know what I miss.” With a wink, he was shrugging off his blazer and whispering something to Leo before he disappeared through the door while the burly man sat in his seat.

“I always did love the ballet,” Leo whispers leaning towards you, eyes locked forward and you thoroughly surprised to hear such a statement easily spill from his mouth.

———

“Ari please I can explain.”

“What more is there to explain Monroe? I see you here with your lovely date, nearly front row I might add, and wearing-what is…wow a Calvin Klein suit,” the brunette chuckles pushing his sleeves up as he slowly stalks closer to the trembling man. “Now we both know you can’t afford this on top of the three grand you owe so that leads me to believe that you’ve been holdin’ out on us.”

“No! Nonono t-that’s not what happened,” he nervously stutters.

“Oh I hope not. You know, I’d hate to have to deal with you myself…or worse, get uncle involved and you know he’s not as understanding as I am.”

“Just hear me out, please I-I got the money it’s just at home in the safe,” he nervously smiles. Beads of sweat forming on his pale forehead. “I-I finally hit big at the casino and set aside what I owed so I could pay you the first chance I got.”

“Monroe I swear if you’re lying-,”

“I’m not I promise! On my dog Fiona’s life I got it. You can even come by if you want and pick it up yourself.”

He narrows his eyes trying to gauge if the man in front of him was lying or not. Head slightly tilting as he slowly took Monroe in with arms crossed in front of his thick chest. “Alright, how about you drop it off tomorrow, not a minute later than 12 or I promise I’ll find you.”

“You got it. 12, no later I swear.”

His stern features turn softer clapping Monroe on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze firm enough to serve as a reminder for who was in charge.

Quite frankly, he didn’t know what he was more afraid of. Ari himself, and the reputation that hung overhead haunting everyone who threatened to disrespect or go against him, or how easily he seemed to be able to switch from that persona to someone you’d go as far to believe was your friend.

From the group of men that entered the restroom soon after, and those waiting outside, both knew intermission had begun.

“Hope you enjoy the rest of your night. I’ll be seeing you,” Ari smiles over his shoulder, unnoticed by everyone else but making Monroe’s blood run cold.

The private escalator had Ari returning to his section quicker than those on the main floor trying to maneuver through the crowds of people needing the restroom or just stretching their legs. His eyes immediately lighting and prior business forgotten at the sight of you and Leo talking.

“Now Leo, I don’t have to worry about you do I?,” he jokes as his right hand man rises from his seat.

“Course not boss,” he chuckles stepping close so he’s able to whisper. “Everything went okay?”

“Yea, fine. May need you to handle something if we don’t see our friend at 12 tomorrow though.”

“Just say the word.”

“So, what’d I miss angel?” Reclaiming his chair, his arm drapes across your bare shoulders. Warm fingertips gingerly grazing against the cool skin of your upper arm making you shiver.

“Um Mercutio and Tybalt died. Romeo and Juliet got married and spent the night together,” you answer as he gently nods listening to your words. “If there’s something you have to do for work, we can leave. I understand.”

His larger hand slides along the back of your neck with fingers resting at your nape causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Thumb gliding along your jaw line, it’s hard to ignore the little shocks his touch leaves behind. Just like the night of his party, all your focus seems to shift to those spots he formerly occupied wishing his touch never had to leave.

From his touches to the mint lightly fanning your lips, it felt like your senses were in overdrive making you overwhelmed in the best way.

“Tonight, nothing is more important than being with you. Making up for lost time remember?”

You slowly nod, fingertips moving on their own to lightly stroke his beard as you lean in needing to see if his lips really were as soft as they looked. The low sneeze from Leo sitting against the wall reminds you you’re not alone, and although just inches from finding your answer, you reluctantly drop your head suddenly more focused on the plush carpet trying to regain your normal heartbeat.

Ari’s soft kiss to your temple has you smiling as the lights dim once again for the start of the second half of the show. Part of you began thinking you might as well leave now. With his hand on your thigh and mind dizzy, there was no way you’d be able to pay attention.

———

The cedarwood left on his pillow, and partially yours, is the first thing you notice once you’re brought out of your deep slumber. Next is the ache roaming over your body reminding you of just a few hours prior and pulling a tired smile from your lips.

After the ballet, Ari treated you to dinner at a rooftop restaurant overlooking the lapping, shallow waves of the bay that easily reflected the twinkling night sky with no high rise buildings or skyscrapers to block them. Bellies filled with gourmet food and a couple glasses of champagne, he offered to drive you home at the sight of your small yawn, but you weren’t ready to leave him though, mentally wishing that time would slow down so you could have longer with him.

“What?,” he asked, a touch amused noticing the ever slight pout of your lips.

“I…I don’t want to leave you yet,” you state peering down at both of your intertwined fingers resting on your lap. You might’ve had a bit of liquid courage from the bubbly coursing through your system, but your nerves still remained from your hushed tone. Grinning to himself, he tilts your chin to look at him with thumb grazing teasingly close to your bottom lip.

“What do you want to do then?”

Moments later, you were in his penthouse apartment both sat on his dark grey sectional sharing more about yourselves under the warm glow of the mini chandelier dangling overhead. Light touches began to linger longer over skin, and innocent pecks eventually turned hungrier until neither of you could hold back anymore. Your lips are still connected, and legs wrapped around his hips, when your back gently thuds against the cloud-like throw lying across the foot of his king sized bed. Clearly it wasn’t a regular king from how small it made you feel.

Or was that Ari’s doing from his arms being planted on either side of your head seemingly towering over you?

“Y/N are you sure?,” he asked taking a moment to catch his breath. You thought you could show better than you could tell sliding your hands from around his neck to the metal buckle pressing into your abdomen, but his hands moved quicker pinning yours above your head. The whimper that emitted from your throat definitely caught you off guard, but you’d have plenty of time later to feel embarrassed about that.

“As much as I love that little pout, I need you to know I want you to use your words with me angel.” His voice lowered to another octave and face so close to yours yet out of reach nearly made you convulse. “I’ll give you anything you want, but you have to say it.”

“Y-Yes I’m sure. I want you Ari.”

The soft smile he flashed before tasting your lips again quickly had your heart melting, along with other places.

He was so attentive, committing every whine, whimper, moan, and squirm to memory trying to make sure you were taken care of. And from how relaxed you currently felt, you’d say he achieved his goal.

Whoever was lucky enough to stroll into your life after Mr. Levinson definitely had some competition.

Realizing how quiet it was, you slowly rise clutching the white sheet to your bare chest wondering where Ari could be. His side of the bed wasn’t made and both of your clothes were still strewn across the floor, which you hoped was a sign he was still here. You gently pad along the short fibers of the cream carpet kneeling to get your intimates and dress, lying it at the foot of the bed. In an attempt to conceal yourself, you carefully pulled his white tank over your head although you were sure Ari wouldn’t mind you walking around half naked.

Daylight shining bright through the floor to ceiling windows, you’re able to observe a bit more of the penthouse apartment than you could last night. The stainless steel appliances in the pristine kitchen that looked as if it was hardly used. The two extra doors you assumed led to guest rooms. How he seemed to be planted right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city peering down at the crowded street filled with cars and people rushing from corner to corner. You feel those butterflies again and smile form on your lips at his tattooed back sitting on the balcony enjoying the mid-morning air with phone pressed to his ear.

“Probably business,” you thought stepping towards the cracked door. You only meant to let him know you were about to leave, but his words had you frozen in place focused on this private conversation.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t call last night I was tied up with some things.”

More like someone.

“How’s princess? Good, that’s good. No, I uh can’t really talk this morning but tell her I’ll call later.”

The way he peered down at his feet, free hand keeping his hair out of his eyes as he lowly spoke made him appear guilty, which didn’t help your new impending thoughts.

“Yea I’ll be back in time for the recital, I wouldn’t miss it. Alright, don’t let me hold you I know how she can get,” he chuckles, “Talk to you later, love you too.”

Your feet were apparently just as shocked as your mind from their limited movement. How could this man who’d been nothing but sweet, kind, and ever so charming with you do this? Not only to you, but those waiting for him wherever they were more than likely not knowing about his double life. Just as you were finally able to turn around, trying to quickly retreat back to the bedroom to get your things, the click of the lock followed by his low whistle has you dreading ever serving the man behind you.

“Good morning angel,” he smiled swiftly twirling you to face him before pecking your lips and jaw. A low hum sounded in his throat as his eyes raked along your body loving how you looked in his clothes, while his finger traced up and down the shoulder’s band. “Sleep well?”

You simply nodded. Small grin planted on your face trying to hide the hurt you currently felt aching through your chest. You might’ve slept well, but you had definitely woken to a nightmare finding Ari wasn’t the man he appeared to be.

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[shorkbrian]

Man I am so freaking horny

-----

You don’t understand why you feel so flushed and warm the longer dinner goes on. Thighs almost trembling with how they’re twitching as you struggle not to rub them together to stimulate your dick. Mom and dad and Kiri are all here with you - you weren’t going to touch yourself in front of them no matter how hard you got.

But you also couldn’t get up and go take care of your problem in the bathroom, they’d see your little cock pressing against your basketball shorts, begging for attention. They might even see the way it throbs as it fills even more full with blood, hot to the touch and begging for attention.

You’ll have to wait for mom and dad to finish, for Kiri to finish. 

“We’ll clean up, won’t we bro?” A boisterous voice breaks into your thoughts of how it’ll feel when you can finally touch yourself later, and you flush deeply as you bring your attention back to the conversation.

“Um...” Is there a way for you to get out of cleaning? You don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to stand keeping your hands away from your lap. You’ve started sweating. Hopefully nobody will notice.

“Yeah, we’ll clean while you and dad go start that movie you’ve been talking about. We don’t mind.” Kirishima smiles when your unfocused gaze finds him across from you at the table.

Mom and dad take so long leaving, chatting about this and that and the other, dad taking so long to chew, the pair of them deciding to suddenly break out wine to take to the living room with them.

Kirishima’s already up and moving around the table, gathering plates and cups as he slowly begins to clear it off.

The second dad and mom disappear through the doorway, you make a break for it.

“I’ll be right back, gotta go use the bathro-” The napkin you have clutched against your front is tugged away, Kirishima suddenly so much closer than he was before. 

“Look at how hard you are, that’s so cute.”

“Wha-Kir-Hey!” A yelp escapes your throat as your stepbrother reaches into your shorts, followed by a low groan as his hand makes contact with your swollen cock. Fuck, your hips twitch forward as soon as you feel his fingers.

“Boys! No fighting!” 

Slitted red eyes are focused on your face, watching you close your eyes and pant as the redhead starts to slowly stroke you, up and down, thumbing over your tip, chuckling a little. “Yeah, no fighting. Just let that shit flow through your system. It’s workin’ real nice so far.”

Did he.... did he drug you?

Maybe that’s why your skin is so hot. Why you don’t mind your stepbrother’s hands working over your cock. Why your hips keep humping forward, why you’re falling against him until he practically has to hold you up as he chuckles darkly.

“C’mere.” You feel like whining when his hand retracts from your shorts, leaving you with a hard-on that almost hurt, but then he’s tugging you forward, pushing your shoulder so you’ll bend over the table.

You don’t want to bend over the table, you want him to keep touching you.

But everything’s so foggy, and you’re so weak compared to the beast that is Kirishima - it’s easy for him to manhandle you into place and pull your shorts down to your knees.

Hands cup your balls and you gasp, melting into the touch as the hand travels upward to pull your dick so it’s no longer trapped between your stomach and the table top. Now it’s pressing against the edge of the table, heavy and flushed between your legs and you’re struggling not to wiggle - you want to cum.

You want to cum so bad that it no longer feels like a want, it feels like a need.

“Kiri, kiri please.”  Everything’s burning hot, and you’re going to cry if he doesn’t touch you again, you need to cum so bad you’re humping the table like a stupid mutt, dirtying mom’s tablecloth.

“God, that’s so hot.” And then Kirishima wraps a hand around your dick, and starts jacking you off with intent.

He’s got a solid rhythm, hard and fast and you can’t stop the ragged little pants coming from your mouth, the raspy, tiny moans you can’t keep inside as you writhe. He’s going so fast, you’re gonna cum, oh, fuck, you’re gonna cumfeelssogoodkiri-!

Kirishima pulls your orgasm from you so fast that it leaves you lightheaded, arousal still pulsing through your stomach even as you shoot your load onto your basketball shorts, where your stepbrother is pointing your dick.

His other hand starts playing with your balls. 

“That was fast. ‘S okay though, this little guy-” Here he flicks at your exposed tip, and you sag against the table with a flinch, knees knocking together. “Won’t be going down anytime soon. We’ll have all night.”

The sound of an exaggerated explosion floats in from the living room, followed by gunfire. The reminder that mom and dad are barely a room away makes you bite your lip, eyes squeezing shut even as you start humping against your brothers hand again.

“What did you-what did you do to me?” And you sound so pathetic, like a child, but you can’t help the way you’re whining. His hand feels so good, not doing anything but rubbing idly at your cock, other hand fondling your balls.

Kirishima leans over you, licks at your ear. He’s hard, you can feel him against the side of your ass, erection prominent through his jeans. “I’ll fuck you in front of mom and dad, wouldn’t that be so hot? I’ll tuck you under a blanket and finger you open while we watch that movie with them, and then when you’re all stretched out? I’ll pull you onto my lap and start grinding into you real slow, slow enough so that they won’t notice.”

No, oh no - he’s wrapping his fingers around you fully again, starting to squeeze at your cock.

“I’ll show you how to cum without touching your dick. Won’t be able to give you a handie with our parents right there, y’know? But ‘s okay, I’ll find the right angle and rub against your prostate and crush it, milk you real good.”

Your hips stuttered forward and you whimpered, clawing at the table. You couldn’t control yourself, entirely subject to the whims of your overly-aroused body.

Kiri huffed out a laugh at your desperation.

“First though, you’re gonna blow me while I’m doing the dishes, alright? You can touch yourself as much as you want to while you do though, I don’t mind a little show. You like jerkin’ yourself off real fast? You came so fast the first time.”

One, two, three, four quick strokes of Kiri’s hand left you reeling, choking on air as pleasure dropped into your tummy like a rock. 

“Or you like it slower? Build yourself up to it for a while?”

Your brother slowed his pace, fully relishing the slick, wet sounds his hand was creating as he leisurely fisted your dick.

“Wait, ‘m gonna-gonna-” You tried to babble out a warning, but it was too late.

But Kirishima stroked you through it, rubbing the tip and giving it extra attention just to see you writhe that much more before his hands finally left your body.

You felt like you could barely breathe.

Kiri reached down, pulled up your shorts for you and snapped the waistband against your skin, completely oblivious (Or did he do this on purpose?) to the fact that your cum was pooled on the inside, wet and gross against your skin.

“I guess you like both, but hey, I don’t judge. You look so hot when you’re cumming though, all shaky and desperate and cute like that.” The praise made your ears heat up with shame.

“Grab the dishes off the table on your way into the kitchen, okay? Mom and dad won’t like it if we slack off.”

In a daze, you simply did as you were told, picking up the dishes before slowly following beside Kirishima.

He smiled down at you, shark teeth on display. 

Kirishima was a pervert.

[rurulyywrites]

☁️At your service!|Kalim Al Asim X Sick!gn!reader|

Pairings: Kalim Al Asim X Sick!gn!reader

Plot: Having to look after Kalim and having the lowest possible immune system is pain in every part of your body AND neurological system.

Type: Fluff

•×•×•×•×•×•

WAAAAHHH HAPPY FUCKIN BIRTHDAY TO KALIM THE MOTHERFUCKING SUNSHINE✨🎉

Now I'm both doing this AND gathering gems to gamble on the bday card because I missed the fairy gala one AND trying to make Kalim Fanart(which if you see this,is probably done):-)

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

3rd person POV

「In Scarabia」

"It's raining?!"

A Scarabia student said, catching the attention of the Scarabia dormwarden.

"Kalim please don't.."

his friend,Y/n, said as Kalim saw it raining in Scarabia.

"Why is it raining?"

Jamil asked "Probably the school's magestone malfunctioning. Kalim--...?! KALIM!"

Y/n had just turned away for a second and the dormwarden was out of his seat. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"WOOOHH!!"

Kalim shouts as Y/n finished their sentence. "Oh shit-"

Jamil said as Y/n took the tablecloth from an empty table and ran up to Kalim

"KALIM!!"

"Y/N SAN! Isn't this fun!?"

Kalim said as Y/n wrapped the tablecloth around the prince

"No. It's not! Stop running around the concrete! You'll slip! And you'll get sick because of the rain!"

Y/n said as they wipe the hair out of the prince's face

"It barely rains in Scarabia!"

"Yeah and I bet it won't last long! It's probably because the school magestone is malfunctioning"

Y/n said as they try to carry Kalim back inside the dorm but soon,alot of the Scarabia students come out and play in the rain

"Now that's my type of people!"

Kalim said as he removed the tablecloth from himself and starts dancing with other students in the rain

"this is bad for both me and my health.." Y/n muttered as they coughed.

"Kalim! Stop playing in the rain!!"

Y/n shouts at Kalim but the sound of loud raindrops were covering their voice.

Y/n was starting to feel dizzy,weak,cold and sick. Snot running down their nose and their eyes going red and teary.

Y/n sighed and pulled Kalim out of the dancing mess and placed the tablecloth around him once more before using whatever was left of their strength to carry him bridal style back to the dorm

"Wha--! Heyy!! I wanna play in the rain!"

Kalim whines the whole way to his room where Jamil prepared a hot bath for him.

"You'll get sick,Kalim."

Y/n muttered as Kalim grew concerned as Y/n let him down

"Are you alright?" Kalim asked as Y/n folded the wet tablecloth

"I'll wash this and tumble dry it as well." Y/n tells Jamil said as he nods worried.

"Oh--!.. shit.." Jamil muttered as Kalim was undressing to take a bath

"I'll... I'll uh.. I'll let you be to bathe, Kalim. Your clothes are on the bed"

Jamil said as he immediately left right after.

"Why was he in such a rush? Was he cooking?" Kalim asked as he laid in his hot bath.

「With Y/n and Jamil」

Jamil lightly knocks on the door to Y/n's dorm room "You ok?" Jamil asked as all he could hear was the sound of a washing machine and sobs

"Hey..?" "I'm fine..!" Y/n shouts from the other side,their voice sounding soar. "I'll get you some paracetamol!" Jamil said as he rushed to the nearest first aid in the dorm.

Meanwhile with Kalim. He can't help but think about what happened to Y/n. Were they ok?

"Is Y/n really ok? I should hurry up and check on them.."

Kalim muttered as he tried to 'hurry' his bathing.

Kalim was fully clean and clothed and he was on his way to Y/n's dorm room.

"Heyyaa??"

Kalim asked as he knocked on the door

"Jamil I swear I told you I'm fine! Let me fucking sle- *cough cough*"

"Y/n?!" Kalim said in shock as he tried to ram the door open. He did.

"Y/N! Are you okay?!" Kalim asked as he saw Y/n wrapped in their blanket with the reddest nose that made Rudolph got jealous.

"Y/n! What happened to you?!" Kalim said as Y/n sighed and rolled to avoid Kalim jumping on them.

"I'm sick.. Kalim.. please leave. You'll get sick and that'll be more of a pain"

Y/n muttered as they laid down on their bed

"Do you need anything?! W-water?! Soup?! Medicine?!" Kalim asked as Y/n groaned

"oh dear... I'll-! I'll get you some water! I'll be right back!!" Kalim said as he dashed out the door.

"This imbecile of a prince.. if I didn't like him,I would've killed him.."

Y/n muttered as they sniffed the snot back in their nose.

"I'm back! I've brought water and soup! I don't know where the first aid is so I called A/n to bring medicine!"

Kalim said as he placed it on the table "*sigh* thank you-- *sniff* Kalim..."

Y/n said as they sneezed "How did you get sick?" Kalim said as he sat down across Y/n eating the soup.

"The rain"

"it was true?!" Kalim said in disbelief

"Yes... You can get sick from the rain.."

"*gasp* REALLY?! How often?!"

Kalim asked as Y/n chuckled at their shocked expression.

"You're kinda hilarious. But for me,it's pretty often since my immune system is really weak"

Y/n said as Kalim looked at the floor. "I'm really sorry.."

Kalim said as Y/n raised a brow at him. "why?"

"If only I listened and didn't play in the rain then you wouldn't be sick. And I didn't know you had a weak immune system"

Kalim said as Y/n smiled at him

"It's fine. It's my fault for going through the rain and to you. You did nothing wrong"

Y/n said as they coughed after the sentence.

"I-..I'll try and contact A/n again for the medicine! I promise! I'll also keep my distance since if I get sick,you and Jamil would have to take care of me and I know how much of a bother it is to try and take care of me while you're sick and all that stuff!"

Kalim said all in one breath as he took his phone and dialed A/n. Only to hear someone else's ringtone.

"Heyaa lovebirds~"

A/n said,they were leaning on the doorway. "A/n! You're here!" Kalim said as he jumps in joy "Since when we're you there and HOW DID I NOT SEE--*cough* you.."

"It's been a few minutes,I didn't wanna ruin you guys' moment. I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to bring till I saw the rain in Scarabia. I used an invis pot. I have Neozep, Biogesic and Calpol. But I'm assuming you have a cold? So just take Neozep. Unless you're having headaches then take Decolgen"

A/n said as they placed a fruit basket on the bed next to Y/n.

"Wait.. I didn't catch that,come again?"

Kalim said as Y/n chuckled

"But if y'all're feelin frisky--" "A/n please no"

"Just Neozep and Decolgen,I'll give y'all 10 of each for free since Crowley just texted me on my way here. The rain is gonna last a week. It's actually raining in every dorm except Octavinelle since it snowed and in Diasomnia where the sun is shining and feels like it's about to explode"

A/n informed the dormwarden and gave him the medicine

"If it gets worst,get to a doctor. See ya lovebirds~!" L

A/n said as they left.

"I hate A/n sensei"

"A/n sensei is AWESOME!".

-----

It's been 30 minutes since Y/n finished the soup and ate their medicine.

They miraculous(LADYBUG)ly fell asleep whilst Kalim keeping a keen eye on them.

Jamil has been temporarily incharge of checking if any other dorm students have caught a cold. "This was really my fault"

Kalim said as he watched Y/n sleeping and having trouble breathing through the snot in their nose.

He frowned and pushed the hair out of Y/n's face. Seeing their discomfort and shivering more clear.

"*Sigh* I'm very sorry"

Kalim said as he kissed their forehead,feeling his warm lips kiss their cold forehead.

"I love you,Y/n.. once again,I failed in keeping you safe.."

Kalim whispered as his eyes went teary. "You sure did fail"

Y/n said with a smirk in their lips and their eyes half open.

"WHA-?! I'M SORRY I WOKE YOU UP!!"

"Jeez you are loud.. if I really didn't like you I would've thrown you out the damn window"

Y/n said as Kalim's eyes lightened up. "You like me..?"

Kalim asked as Y/n smiles weakly and nods. At this point,Kalim was about to cry in guilt but instead was replaced with happy tears.

"REALLY?!!!"

"K-Kalim don't jump at me!!"

"I WOV YU SHO MUSSHHH!!!!"

Kalim said in tears as he jumped at Y/n and sat on their lap

"Oi! Kalim! You'll- *cough cough* fuck.. get sick-!"

"I WOVV UU TOOOOO!!!"

.....

"This is all your fault,Kalim"

Y/n said as they sniffed their snot and turned to their side.

Where a sick Kalim was laying on. "Kalim I told you not to get close to me."

"I knooowww... Stop being mad pleaasee"

Kalim said as he clings into Y/n's arm in bed like a koala

"*sigh* Jamil can you take this wreck to Asim family's doctor?"

"noooo!!! I wanna go with N/n chaaannn"

Kalim said as he squeezed Y/n (Floyd who).

"Kalim you're gonna cut the circulation on my arm"

"I'll just call the doctor over"

Jamil said as he sighed in defeat and took Kalim's phone to call the family doctor.

"This is all your fault Kalim"

"I wov u too"

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