#i feel like the more “charming” side of him is smth he trained into himself between the events of fe11 and fe12 (or fe1 and fe3) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafescoke · 3 years

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Brother’s Best Friend ; Rafe Cameron

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Request: heyy I’ve recently found your account and I just felt in love with the way you write and with your works so I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is Kelce’s sister, she’s sitting alone at home and suddenly she hears a doorbell ringing, she comes to open the door and that’s Rafe and she says something like “Kelce’s not home” or smth like that and Rafe answers “I actually came to see you” or smth like that. It can be smut or fluff or whatever I don’t really care. Sorry if this is chaotic but I just want the reader to be black and I have bad ideas lmao 😭 sending love ❤️❤️

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Fooling around with your best friend's sister is not a good sign, especially when it involves something more than skinny dipping and drinking alcohol together.

Warnings: Slight smut, mentions of drinking, slight angst, teasing Rafe Cameron

A/N: I'm so close to 700 followers wtf y'all are truly amazing ily! I'm finishing all requests in my inbox for the new few days; thank you to those who put their trust in me to write their ideas <33

(Y/N) could never deny the attraction she felt towards a certain brunette boy with that charming smile.

The feeling evolved for the first time when he came over to her house to see Kelce. He was so polite to her; giving her a turn on passing the ball and scolding Kelce and Topper for not wanting to give her a chance at playing basketball in the swimming pool.

But she was only 8 back then, and she regarded the feeling as nothing more than a silly crush.

Rafe Cameron changed when he entered high school. (Y/N) couldn't explain what was wrong, but he was not her Rafe anymore. He didn't hold the door for her, scold Kelce for making fun of her or do anything that used to make her heart soar.

Her thoughts were disrupted when a fresh blue towel hit her squarely on the face, causing her to yelp in shock.

"Do you wanna come down to the lake with us?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling the towel to her side, and closed her magazine with a snap. Her eyes fell back to the three guys, lingering on the tallest one a little bit too long.

She cleared her throat, "No, I'm tired."

Kelce shrugged, walking towards the entrance of their home from the swimming pool. He didn't feel like having (Y/N) around anyways, because that would mean he would have to protect her from his friends.

Kelce loved his friends, of course, but he also knew the other side of them that uses girls like Kleenex tissue only to throw them away again.

"On a second thought-" (Y/N) said, stopping the three boys from entering the big house. "I think I'll go."

"You sure?" Kelce asked. God. Now he would have to play the big-brother stimulator for the whole night.

The night sky was dark, and the only light came from the moonlight up above and sometimes from the flashlight of each other's phone. Boozes laid messily on the wooden deck and their clothes were discarded all over the place.

Not one person was sober, and they were all laughing to a joke by Topper.

"Okay, okay, last one-" Topper said excitedly. He shivered, and (Y/N) thought about it as a response towards the cold lake water or the excited nerves of sharing another stupid joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Easy. To get to the other side," Rafe answered proudly. A beer drop slid down from his lips to his chin, and (Y/N) felt a strong desire to lick it.

"Wrong."

"Okay, fine, I don't know."

Topper smiled widely, and (Y/N) could see this joke coming from a few miles away. "To get to the loser's house. Knock knock."

Rafe pulled a face, his eyebrows raised. "Who's there?"

"The chicken."

Kelce and Topper's laugh filled the silence around them, and (Y/N) found herself slightly smiling at the joke. Rafe groaned, finally understanding the joke and being angry at himself for willingly taking the bait.

"Okay, okay. The joke's over."

Kelce laughed again before taking a full swig of another beer bottle. He stared at the sky, and let out a loud huff.

"Wish we can go up there."

"Me too, man," Topper agreed. He joined Kelce by staring up at the dark sky, both clearly high out of their minds.

"Do you want to?"

(Y/N) looked to her side, not noticing Rafe who had moved from his previous position near Topper to beside her. She quirked her head to one side, her face questioning.

"Go up to the sky," he explained. He watched as she looked up to the sky, her mouth slightly parting. Her chest heaved peacefully, and her wet body donning the lilac bikini never looked so beautiful and perfect.

"Nah. I'm too scared."

"Even when I'll go with you?" he smiled. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, though her heart was soaring brightly; she would never feel scared anymore if he were to be around her all the time.

"Yeah. Even when you’ll go with me. Besides, it's not possible."

"Let people enjoy things," he said, and he was so close to her now because she could smell the coffee mint from his breath. Her heart was beating wildly, though this would be the ten-thousandth time he did this to her.

It never failed to leave her completely breathless.

"You're drooling," he whispered, and used his thumb to wipe her wet lips from the beer. Her breath hitched, and she couldn't utter any words back. She was too mesmerised with the whole situation.

His fingers stopped at her chin, looking into her eyes, and he was petrified too. He leaned in, but before anything could happen, (Y/N) moved away. He cleared his throat, and swam back to the deck.

‘I’m drunk’ was repeated by him all the way to the the place he threw his clothes off, shaking his head at the thought that he was so close to kissing her. He looked back to her direction in the lake, still staring at him. He focused back on the ties of his shorts, and made his way back to the Kelce’s house.

He ignored his best friends calls.

. . .

(Y/N) never really liked school, but she loved the after-activity that she got herself in.

Like cheerleading.

She used to think of the sport as something quirky, but in truth, once she was accepted into the school’s cheerleading team, she had never been more into a sport than before.

She walked down the field to the other side of the track where the other girls were waiting for her. Her training skirt flew slightly from the wind, and she was trying to hold them down all while carrying the water bottle and a duffle bag.

She exchanged a few greetings with her other friends, putting down her duffle bag and her water bottle. The sun was scorching hot, and all she felt like was eating ice cream inside of their boat whilst streaming down the lake, but the last time she had ditched cheer practice, it hadn’t ended well.

“Uh-oh,” someone exclaimed behind her. “Big bro is coming.”

(Y/N) looked up to the field, and sure enough Kelce was running towards her in his jersey. (Y/N) sighed, not knowing what she did now that could earn her a lecture from Kelce.

“Hey, I’m bringing a girl home after practice,” he said. “Would you mind getting a ride with someone else?”

She groaned, “Fuck, Kelce, no. You can tell your new scandal to fuck off because I am not getting an Uber to walk back to home.”

“Look, please? You can ask your friends to give you a ride, right? It’s important,” he begged. His eyes were scanning her friends now, obviously trying to find someone who could help his sister, and when he found one, his smile quirked upwards. “Yo, Sarah! Can you drive (Y/N) home after practice?”

Sarah walked towards them, her blonde hair up in a ponytail. She slung her arms around (Y/N)’s shoulders, noting the exasperated expression on her face, and gave Kelce a glare.

“You should let her drive a car if you’re going to bring a girl home after school,” she said. Kelce groaned, knowing the amount of shit he will be getting from the people around him, but he was truly trying to make it right for this new girl.

“Look, I’ll buy y’all anything for a week. Food? Sure. Clothes? Sure.”

Sarah clapped her hands, seemingly excited, and forced (Y/N) to say yes. She wouldn’t mind driving (Y/N) home, because she wanted to catch up with her about some gossip too.

“Fine. But I’m driving my own car tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” was all he said before he jogged down to the soccer team.

That evening was hell to (Y/N). She couldn’t get the formation right, the sun was getting hotter and hotter, her hair was sticking out weirdly, and worst of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday’s event.

He was so, so close to her.

“(Y/N), come on! What’s gotten into you? The top part, again!” The coach yelled, slapping her hands against her lap. There were sweat forming on her forehead, and she was obviously hot and bothered from this whole situation.

But sport was sport. The coach wasn’t going to let today’s training to waste, and she intended for the new number to work.

(Y/N) muttered a soft ‘sorry’ before going back to her position, her heart still thumping at the thought. The cheer started, and her mouth was saying the words, but her brain was somewhere else.

The two guys by her side picked her up by her calf, and she felt the wind gushing out from beside her ears. She was high up in the sky now, throwing one arm upwards and balancing herself on one leg, and it was finally time now, to twirl into the two boys’ arms, but she wasn’t ready. Her mouth didn’t utter any words from the cheer, too focused on the step, and before she could jump back into their arms, she felt herself slipping.

“(Y/N)!” The coach yelled, running towards her by the track. Sarah and the other teammates were surrounding her now, watching as she groaned on the ground painfully, holding onto her arms.

“Okay, I take that as the end of today’s training,” the coach said, sighing. “(Y/N), are you okay? Can you walk?”

(Y/N) held her thumbs up, because she had worse injury than this before. Hell, the boxing fight she used to have with Kelce in their childhood was more painful. She sat up from the track, feeling the heat of the ground burning on her bottoms, and stretched her fingers. The pain coursed through her veins at the feeling, but kinda liked it.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Sarah said, helping her up. She groaned when she finally stood on her two feet, feeling so painful all she wanted to do was lay back on the track, but she knew she had to go home.

She allowed Sarah helping her limp towards a black Mercedes, her eyes closed the whole time.

Okay, scratch the fight with Kelce. This one was more painful than ever.

“Can I stay at your house?” She blurted when Sarah drove out of the school gate. “I don’t feel like listening to my mom’s lecture about my leg.”

Sarah glanced at her from the rearview mirror, watching as she spread her leg out the whole backseat. The ice bag someone had gotten her was pressed against her calf, and she was sweating from the heat and trying to contain the pain.

“Yes, of course, that would be better,” Sarah said. She had other plans that evening, but helping (Y/N) overstepped all of them.

“So what’s up with you and John B?”

Sarah turned to look at her fully on her face, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you know about John B?”

(Y/N) laughed, “The light’s green.” Just on cue, the car behind them horned at Sarah, and she quickly pushed on the pedal.

“How do you know about John B?” Sarah asked, biting her lips. If (Y/N) could find out, she couldn’t imagine what would Rafe do if he finds out.

“God, don’t be worried. I’m not going to tell anyone about this, okay? Just relax. I think it’s cute.”

Sarah’s worried expression softened, “You think so?”

“Yeah. At least you got to be with whoever you want. Some people can’t have that.”

Like her. Kelce would kill her and dump her body in the ocean for the sharks if he ever finds out how much she likes Rafe.

“You’ll find the one soon. How about that guy in your maths class?” The car turned to the right, nearing the destination.

“No. I’m not looking for anyone.”

There’s only one, but Sarah won’t like the answer.

The time was 8.23p.m. now, and (Y/N) had been in Sarah’s room for a total of 3 hours. After catching up on new gossips, watched a movie, did her English essay, she felt extremely dehydrated.

Sarah was sleeping peacefully beside her, being so tired after the practice and school, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like waking her up. She have been to The Camerons household, but that was only for Sarah’s birthday party a few years back.

She sighed, getting up from the bed to find the kitchen. The house was like a maze, and she wished they had some kind of a map to browse through.

Alas, she found the kitchen, her muscles screaming from all the wrong turns she took before. She knew where the plastic cups and plates were situated, having to help Sarah get them during her birthday party, so she didn’t have any trouble getting some.

She drank the cold water quickly, feeling the liquid sloshing down her throat. The feeling was so, so good that she wished she could go through it again.

“I do not know where your sister is, Kelce,” a voice sighed not far from the kitchen. “I told you you shouldn’t bring that girl home and just drive (Y/N) home yourself.”

The voice, unmistakably Rafe, was getting nearer and nearer. (Y/N)’s eyes widened, trying to find an empty space to hide in, but there were none. She panicked, still looking for a way out that she didn’t notice the tall figure behind her.

“Oh. Found you.”

His hair was dishevelled and wet, his chest heaving and he was shirtless.

What a nice way to bump onto each other.

“Take a picture,” he started, shutting his phone off and placing them in his shorts. “It’ll last longer that way.”

Now we’re talking about the new Rafe.

(Y/N) scoffed, pushing him away and making a disgusted face at his sweat sticking on her arms. “I’m here for Sarah.”

“Why? Did she die or something?”

God. He really is insufferable.

She made to push him away to return to Sarah’s room, only for him to grab her by her waist.

“Move.” Her tone was stern, but her stomach was flipping wildly. She tried to not look so bothered, but failed miserably.

Rafe seemed to notice her behaviour because he didn’t let go of her. “Come on, where’s the fun in that?”

She was on the same level as his neck now, and he could still smell his expensive cologne even after he swam in the swimming pool. She sighed, placing her hands against his chest.

“Move.”

Rafe laughed, putting his hands up in defeat, and went to grab the same glass she was drinking from. He refilled the glass and downed the content, and (Y/N) had to look away from the innocent move.

Maybe he was just saving water by not using a different cup.

“Do you need help to return to Sarah’s room or something?”

“No, I’m fine,” she refused, and made sure he could see her fake annoyed expression before she returned to the hall she came from. But there were 2 halls now, and she completely forgot which one she had been before.

“Really?” Rafe stood beside her, and she looked up to his amused face. “Because you’re in the wrong hall. It’s the other exit of the kitchen, darling.”

. . .

Why couldn’t she not see his face every single day?

It was truly troubling her, to see that boy everyday, because she couldn’t think properly every time.

The lights from the stadium blared widely, and the deafening screaming coming from both teams’ supporters rang throughout the whole field. (Y/N) was sure the whole island could hear them too.

Two things happened earlier than evening. Number one, her skirt wasn’t completely dried after being sent off to the laundry for a week, and her hair wasn’t just cooperating.

So here she was; in a shorter uniform skirt, her hair hung up into a ponytail with lots of hairspray. She wished for nothing but to be all cuddled up with her blanket in her room.

“You’re okay?” Sarah asked. She fixed (Y/N)’s lips gently, getting the lipstick and lipliner even, and gave her a kiss on the cheeks. “Don’t worry about the skirt. It looks normal.”

For a little girl.

(Y/N) sighed and involuntarily pulled down the hem of her skirt. Ten minutes from the game now, and she was nervous she would flash everyone on the school compound.

In the locker room, Rafe was sitting right next to Kelce as his best friend prayed for a win tonight. He was never that religious, and he didn’t feel the need to mutter a prayer to anyone. But tonight, he listened intently to whatever Kelce was saying because he needed to win this cup more than anything in the world.

“You’re okay?” The coach asked, patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just nervous.”

“Don’t be, you’re the Star Player. Right?”

The Star Player.

Rafe gave him a smile, and went back to his praying.

When he first entered the field to meet the rival team, his eyes couldn’t help but scanned the bleachers to find his dad. Ward wasn’t there, but Rose and Wheezie were cheering for him.

Of course.

He sighed, and went straight to the middle of the field. It’s funny how everyone was there to support him, Rafe, the Star Player, the jock, the whatever else people were saying about him.

He just wanted Ward to see him.

“Come on, man, it’s fine,” Topper said, patting his back. “He’ll come later.”

Even his friends could see how miserable he was feeling.

The first match of the game went smoothly; he scored a try goal, everyone was cheering loudly, but it was just then that one of the opponents came knocking Rafe by his side.

Rafe fell to the ground with a loud thud, earning so many gasps from the stand.

“What the fuck?!” Topper pushed whoever responsible for his fall, and the sound of a whistle rang throughout the air. “He pushed him for nothing! You saw it, fuck!”

Rafe groaned on the ground, clutching onto his arms, and he tried to spread his fingers, but couldn’t. His other teammates were surrounding him now, trying to get a good look of him, all while Topper and Kelce and another friend of his went off to the referee.

Rafe put his other hand up, trying to sit up. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Move!”

The other members scattered away, sighing in relief when Rafe came back to his legs. The referee, still getting yelled at by Topper, shook his head at something he said, and before anyone could process what happened, Topper tackled the opponent who had pushed Rafe down to the ground.

Kelce pulled Topper away after a few long seconds, telling him to stop. But one thing about Topper is that he just won’t stop.

“Stupid fuck!” He yelled, throwing another punch.

“Topper, stop, they’re going to throw you off the field!” Kelce yelled. Finally, he separated them away after the opponent’s friend pulled his injured friend away.

The referee, expectedly, pulled a red card to Topper, earning a groan coming from their coach and the stand. Rafe cursed, knowing that Topper’s one of their strongest member. He watched as Topper tried to argue with the referee, but it was no use.

“It’s okay,” Kelce said, patting his back as he made his way back to the bench. “Relax, bro, okay?” Topper calmed down after the coach said something to him, but Rafe could clearly see the distress written on his face.

“You’re okay?” Kelce asked, pointing to his arms.

Rafe could move his muscles now though he could feel the sharp pain from doing so. But he was too content on winning this game.

(Y/N) watched as the second match unfold, her teeth biting into her lips in fear. She didn’t feel like having the next week full of gloomy students and disappointed teachers, so she wanted the cup as much as everyone else.

Rafe was fast, throwing the ball smoothly back and forth with Kelce and his other friends, but it was apparent that the Star Player wasn’t feeling like himself.

It might be the arm, or the fact that Ward Cameron was too busy with his work to see his son playing.

37 minutes had passed, and the other team was leading. They only had 3 minutes left, and with the team being so drained out and their captain with a broken arm, it was clear who was winning.

The whistle blared through the field again, noting the end of the match. As the other team supporters cheered happily the other side of the stands muttered silently to each other about the game.

(Y/N) watched as Rafe yelled something at his teammates angrily before storming off to the locker room. He winced in pain, holding his arm for support, and ignored every calls from his friends as he made his way to the empty room.

Looking around quickly, she muttered a ‘be right back’ to Sarah, and quickly followed Rafe into the locker room. She wanted to see if he was okay, and if he needed help with his arm.

In truth, she just wanted to be there for him.

“Hey,” she slowly said, and Rafe’s head perked up to see her before he looked down to the ground again.

“What do you want?”

She felt a struck of pain across her heart at his tone, but decided against it. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I was just trying to see if you need anything,” she said, and when his eyes finally looked up to her again, she unconsciously pulled her skirt down again.

“Yeah? I don’t need anything. Go!”

“Wow, you’re a dick,” she scoffed, and before Rafe could mutter anything back, she exited the locker room and straight to the cheer team. She felt a mixture of anger and embarrassment all at once, because God, Rafe Cameron did not just yell at her for trying to be nice.

She should’ve known better than to be ‘nice’ to him. He wasn’t the same 8 year old she met 10 years ago.

. . .

A week had passed from the game, and everything went back to normal.

Except for one person.

Rafe didn’t come to school the next Monday, not that (Y/N) wanted to see him after getting yelled at, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

He didn’t just broke his arm; his father also chose not to attend his game.

It was finally Friday, and (Y/N) was too happy to stay home and continue watching Love Island. Life is better when you are focused on someone else’s relationship other than yours.

She was rolling in her bed, casually smiling at the cheesy joke made by one of the contestant, and before she could hear the reply towards the joke, the doorbell blared throughout the house.

(Y/N) groaned, thinking how Kelce must’ve forgotten his keys again, and waited a few more minutes so that he would just leave her alone and go to that stupid prick, Rafe Cameron’s house.

But the doorbell rang again, and she had no choice but to open the door. She was all alone in the big house, having both her parents still working and her maids having the day off.

But when she opened the door, the boy standing before her was the last person she wanted to see.

“Hi,” Rafe said.

“Kelce’s not here,” she mumbled, and pushed the door close. Rafe’s quickly put his hands to block the door from closing, and (Y/N) pulled away after deciding not to crush his other only working hands.

“What?” She asked, in the same tone that he had given her in the locker room. She felt good when his eyebrows were raised.

“I’m here for you.”

“Why? Did I die or something?” Bingo.

“God, you’re impossible,” Rafe sighed. “Can I talk to you? Just us two?”

(Y/N) sighed, wanting to get this done, and opened the door wider to grant him into her home. (Y/N) closed the door and pressed her back against it, crossing her arms.

“Okay. Talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He said. “I was just so angry with everything. I was pushed and Topper received a red card because of me—”

“You didn’t do anything, Rafe.”

“Yeah, but he was just trying to protect me. And, and I was just so mad at myself because I couldn’t play properly like I usually play. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean it.”

(Y/N) sighed, “It’s okay. I’m over it.”

“Really?” He stepped closer, and this time, (Y/N) allowed him. “Thank you so much!”

He pulled her into a crushing hug, and before she could put her mind into it, he lifted her up and spin her around.

“Okay, okay, now you’re just pushing it,” she groaned, hitting him on his chest. “Put me down, Rafe, I swear to god.”

Rafe put her down, his face shining happily. They were close again, like that time in the lake, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like pushing him away again.

Because maybe, that 8 year old him was somewhere in there.

“Uh—” he looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Do you wanna. . . watch Netflix?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, “I was watching Love Island. Wanna watch with me?”

Rafe nodded, anything to get closer with this girl, and followed her upstairs to her room. The first time he entered her room was 9 years ago, and it was only because Topper and Kelce had pranked him into thinking that her room was the gaming room.

“What are you doing?” The girl before him yelled, and before he could explain how he was lied to, she threw a pink hairbrush at him. He groaned from the pain, rubbing his head.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was the gaming room!”

“Out!” She yelled, and he quickly obliged.

Her room was still pink, but it was now filled with so many books, clothes and makeups instead of the dollhouse and toys he saw a few years ago.

“Is this the pink hairbrush you threw at me?” He laughed, holding the pink tool. (Y/N) snatched the hairbrush, embarrassed, and quickly stuffed them into the drawers.

He placed himself beside her on her bed, watching her as she resumed the video. He focused on the show, trying to find at least something interesting from the show, but there was nothing.

2 episodes later, he was too into the show that he pressed on the stop button before they could continue on the next episode.

“I wish they would just communicate,” he said. “Like the whole show’s pointless. They didn’t try to talk to each other about their problems.”

“Yeah, that’s what makes the show interesting, Rafe,” she said as if that was a fact, “And besides, if they communicate, everyone will win the show.”

“Then that’s just good. A win-win situation.”

“You don’t get it,” she groaned, looking into his face. “There’s no use in fighting with you about this.”

She pressed on the resume button again, and instantly, Rafe pressed on the stop button.

“Rafe, I will—”

“You still haven’t apologised for throwing the hairbrush at me.”

She widened her eyes, “That was 9 years ago.”

“And?”

“Fine,” she placed her laptop aside, and turned to fully look him in the face. “Sorry.”

“Not sincere enough.”

She groaned, “Rafe, I am terribly sorry for throwing my pink hairbrush at you. I am so sorry that it hit your face and be the reason why you’re still holding vengeance at someone.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of sorry.”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” she said. “I’m not going to bow down to you or anything.”

“Just a kiss.”

She looked at him back, her heart stopping at his words. “No.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re Rafe?”

“Rafe? Okay, fine. I’m not Rafe. I’m Rafael.”

“Okay, it’s still a no. You’re Kelce’s best friend.”

“Didn’t you kiss Topper last year?”

“That was a dare—” she sighed. “And it didn’t mean anything.”

“Exactly. This won’t mean anything. This is just a sorry.”

It would mean everything to her to place her lips against his.

“This is sexual harassment.”

“Not if you want it too,” he said, and leaned closer to her. “And you do want it, right? I can see it in your eyes.”

She didn’t know why God would put her and Rafe in this damn position over and over again, because it wasn’t helping her to get over him.

She looked down to his lips, and how it was so inviting, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him, to finally give herself to him, but she was afraid.

“Rafe—”

“Shut up,” he cut her off, and pressed himself against her. Their kiss was slow and passionate, none like neither (Y/N) or Rafe had experienced before. Her hands found themselves wrapping around Rafe’s neck, pulling him closer.

He pulled away, grinning. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, and pulled him in for another kiss again.

He pushed her down onto the bed gently, still kissing her, and his hands were roaming down her body. She was so, so perfect and every time he saw her, he would have to look away to stop the unwanted thoughts forming in his head.

During the game last Friday, he had to pinch himself from staring at her legs in that goddamn skirt for too long.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, and she hummed in response before pushing him over so she could take control. She sat on top of him, grinning widely. She was in heaven; seeing him all worked up under her with his chest heaving.

“You would be surprised at the amount of times I imagined myself on top of you like this,” she said, placing her hands flat on top of his chest.

Rafe grinned back, trying to contain his feelings. “Yeah? Wanna show what else you’ve been imagining?”

She leaned closer, making sure to brush her bottom against him and hearing his soft groans. She placed a soft kiss against his cheek, and whispered into his ear.

“Would rather have you show what you’ve been dreaming of me.”

Rafe licked his lips, loving this side of her, and he wanted more than anything to make her his. She looked so innocent sitting there on top of him, smiling and biting her lips.

Before he could touch her in ways he never did to a girl before, a voice rang from outside the room.

“(Y/N)? Have you seen Rafe? I saw his car outside,” the voice said. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “You’re okay? I’m coming in, okay?”

“No, no, wait!” (Y/N) shouted, scrambling from her position on top of Rafe as he quickly pulled her up, but it was too late.

Kelce saw them in the midst of trying to get away, with his sister’s leg on one side of his best friend and his best friend’s hands still around his sister’s waist.

“What. The. Fuck.”

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imaginens #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks smut

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wooyunhwa · 4 years

Text

kingdom of welcome addiction | C.S.

view pinned post for masterlist!

Genre: smut (mostly suggestive in this part though)

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: blood drinking, virgin mc

Synopsis: When you accidentally summon a bloodthirsty demon boy to your bedroom, you form an unexpected contract with him.

A/N: Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always!

If you had to read the words pythagorean theorem one more time, you were gonna smash your brains in.

You reached over to your phone, unlocking your screen to the group chat.

y/n: anyone wanna come over and help me with this dumb problem? my heads gonna implode.

chaeyeon: busy tonight, Y/N. lol, just summon a demon or smth.

yuri: lmao that ouija board is still there right? I think we left it under your bed

chaeyeon: I don’t think you summon demons with a ouija board, yuri

y/n: ugh you guys are no help. brb, summoning demon...

You realized how weird this conversation would sound from an outside perspective, but it was a sort of inside joke you had within your friend group. You and your friends had joked about ‘summoning a demon’ before, and you’d even used a Oujia board a few times and done fake seances to freak each other out. The results were always disappointing—not that you ever actually wanted to contact the dead or anything, but you were at least hoping for a spooky story or something you could tell.

You knew they were joking around, but your brain felt a little delirious from all the math churning it into mush.

You switched tabs from your test, typing in the search bar “how to summon a demon”. You chuckled a little under your breath at the ridiculousness. But at least then you could tell your friends you actually tried. They’d get a kick out of that.

You followed a few rabbit holes down some forums, mockingly reciting strings of incomprehensible Latin. If you were gonna do this, you were gonna commit fully.

“You called?”

You scrambled backwards, nearly jumping a foot off the bed at the sudden unfamiliar voice echoing in the room.

Then you saw him.

He was perched on your bookshelf, one leg dangling lackadaisically over the edge, the other folded up at his side. You caught a glimpse of his piercing crimson-red eyes illuminated in the dim candle-lit room. He looked particularly cat-like in his position, a devilish grin painted on his face, what looked like fangs coming to two sharp points in his mouth.

The man picked up a pen from your bookshelf, twirling it in his hand casually with playful twists of his fingers. “You’re new…” he mused, glancing at you up and down. “And... cute. Fresh blood. How'd you get my number, hmm?”

You sat stunned, dizzy from confusion. Your words were lodged in your throat, unable to utter a single sound. This had to be a dream, right? Had you fallen asleep while working on your homework? It wouldn't be the first time.

He tapped his fingers impatiently against the oak of the bookcase, waiting for your next move. The only words you could manage came out in a hoarse croak, shaky and uncertain. "This—I'm dreaming…"

He shook his head, clicking his tongue tauntingly against his teeth. "Oh, there's a lot of things I could do right now to assure you you aren't," he started, the gleam in his eye particularly sinister as he drew his gaze up and down. "But trust me. You wouldn't want that."

“Who—”

“I have a lot of names, but you can just call me San. Your friendly neighborhood demon.” He flashed a fiendish smirk. “Well, maybe don’t linger too much on the ‘friendly’ part.”

“D—demon?”

“What, you didn’t know? You’re the one who summoned me, darling.” He drew out his words, slowly, carefully, continuing to play with the pen in his fingers. The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, as if he had the power to kill you at any moment. He probably did.

He pressed his palms against the top of the shelf to hoist himself off, the books on it threatening to topple with the sudden movement. The minute he vaulted down from the shelf, you were able to get a better look at him.

The first thing that drew your eye was his impossibly broad shoulders, accentuated by the tight cut of his shirt. It contrasted against his tiny waist, cinched in neatly with a belt. His proportions were unreal, and so very fittingly non-human. He was undoubtedly the most incredible sight you'd ever seen in your life, human or otherwise. He made his way over to the bed where you sat. You snapped your laptop closed, pushing it to the side, your blood turning to ice as he inched closer to you. The way he sauntered across the floor almost seemed like he was floating, like gravity was merely a fun game to him.

He poised himself over you, his powerful stance alone commanding you to look at him. His fingernail dragged under your chin with a distinct sting, pulling your gaze up to his intense eyes. It was cold, like a dull knife, causing your body to tremble slightly. His piercing eye-contact was entrancing, even spell-binding—you couldn't tear your eyes away. "How cute," he teased sing-songily, “you’re a virgin.”

Your eyes widened, still pulled in by his magnetic gaze. “How did you—”

"I can smell one from a mile away. The scent… it's just so…" he paused to lick his lips, drawing his tongue slowly over his black metal lip ring. "delicious."

“Anyway, you must have had a reason to summon me, no? A soul to harvest? A sacrifice maybe?” Something about his tone was giddy at the idea. “At your service, darling.” He drew down in a playful bow, his mouth twitching into a smirk.

You hated to say it, but he was entirely your type. From up close, you could see his other piercings more clearly, several earrings lining both ears, glimmering against the cartilage. His right eyebrow donned a shaved slit, decorated with another piercing. Of course the demon you summoned in your dream would be your ideal man. Well, he kind of looked like the edgy Hot-topic boy of your 7th grade self’s dreams, but you couldn’t deny that was still kind of your type still. His jet-black hair framed the sharp cut of his jaw perfectly—you were sure he could see you practically drooling over him at this point. He looked crafted by heaven—hell?—itself.

Even so, no single part of you desired for him to take your virginity right this second. Maybe under different circumstances, but not with the time ticking down on your math assignment and the fact that he was a fucking demon you just conjured into your room.

You shook your lewd thoughts out of your head, worried for a moment that demons might have some sort of mind-reading powers you weren’t aware of. “Well, uh, actually… I need help with my math homework.”

He snickered, his eyes trained on you like prey. “You can’t be serious. Tell me you’re not serious.”

“I’m kind of serious. It’s like 10% of my grade.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth again, breaking eye contact finally, and you felt a sense of relief as you finally had a moment to breathe away from his suffocating glare.“For someone who just summoned a demon you’re a real buzzkill.” He perched himself on the edge of the bed, resting his butt lightly against the edge of the frame. “Fine,” he groaned. “Let’s say I actually helped you. You know how this works, right? If I do something for you, you have to give me something in return.”

You gulped. This was a dream, it had to be, and the best you could do was go along for the ride. Even so, you couldn’t help but feel shaken, despite doing your best to convince yourself it wasn’t real—like some sort of subconscious defense mechanism your body employed in danger. And, well, he kind of seemed like danger. “Like what?”

“Well, normally...” He glanced back over, pinning you down with his gaze once again. “It’d be your soul.”

Your breath stopped in your throat. You weren’t quite sure if you were ready to give up your entire soul for 10% of your math grade, although that was a pretty accurate metaphor for your college experience.

“Your virginity maybe?” he hummed, drawing his tongue back over his lips, then, seeing your expression, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “No? Damn. It doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Um… I can offer to make you dinner?”

He paused, his eyes widening for a second, then burst into a cacophony of laughter. It was the first time he broke his exterior, and for a moment, he looked a bit more human. “I’ll take it.” Then, more “but you realize a contract with a demon is binding, right?”

“So, I’m contractually obligated to make you dinner, that’s what you’re saying?”

He paused, his smile turning amused once more. “Feisty. I like you,” he winked flirtatiously, sending heat rising in your cheeks. You hated to say it, but he was devilishly charming, on top of being probably the hottest being, human or not, you’d ever seen.

You glanced at your phone, noting the time ticking down slowly but surely. “Okay, I’m not joking. The math. My assignment is due in 45 minutes.”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

He sat next to your side on the bed for a while, guiding you through the problems like some sort of hot e-boy math tutor. Not that you were complaining about that. The way he sat was surprisingly cute, one leg tucked up at his side, the other folded underneath him.

“Where’d you learn math, anyway?” you asked, admiring his immaculate side profile as his eyes trained on the laptop screen, typing the answers in. “They have like, demon school or something?”

He gave you a side glance, and you once again felt uneasy under the heat of his gaze. “A demon never reveals his secrets.”

“I thought that was a magician.”

He visibly stifled a laugh, pressing his lips tightly to avoid giving you the satisfaction of breaking his serious exterior. “Can you be quiet? I’m focusing. I’m a demon, not a mathematician. This is way out of my scope of work,” he grumbled through his teeth.

You watched him silently as he worked. As he typed, his tongue lingered just outside his parted lips in concentration. “Even you sitting next to me is distracting,” he hissed quietly. “You don’t realize what your scent is doing to me right now.”

Right. Your virgin scent. Was that really so appealing to him?

“Fine. I guess I’ll go make dinner. You promise you’re gonna turn this in in time?”

“I’m contractually obligated,” he responded dryly.

You hoisted yourself off the bed and headed to the kitchen to make dinner, but something about leaving a stranger in your room felt strange. No stranger than accepting he was a demon, though, you supposed.

You returned with a large plate of pasta, pretty much the only thing you had on hand. He received it apprehensively from you.

“What?” you asked, offended at his look of disgust. “Sorry, I didn’t have any fresh human souls on hand. My bad.”

You sat across from him on the bed, watching in fascination as he nibbled slowly at the thin spaghetti noodles. “You have any hot sauce or anything?” he asked, wincing as he took a few more bites.

“I barely had enough pasta to feed two people. I’m a broke college student. Anyway, I never forced you to accept the dinner offer.”

“I didn’t think it’d be so bland. What, you didn’t know demons prefer spicy food?”

“I didn’t know demons existed until today. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. This is all a dream I’m going to wake up from in a bit anyway.”

A wicked smirk danced up on his lips again. “Oh, you still think it’s a dream? Cute,” he sang condescendingly. “Well, then I guess it wouldn’t matter if I did this...”

Your heart seemed to stop in your chest as he crawled forward on his palms. You felt his breath linger on your neck first, then the gentle scrape of his pointed canines against your sensitive skin. Every hair on your body stood up. He pressed them down slightly, just enough to feel the tension on your flesh. Then he bit harder, nearly piercing as he sunk them in.

You reeled back, shoving him off you breathlessly. “What the fuck-”

“You still think it’s a dream? Then it wouldn’t matter if it sunk my teeth in. You’d just wake up, right? Isn’t that how dreams are supposed to work?” he taunted, a smile curled up on his lip. His fangs gleamed under the still-dim light of your bedroom. “Humans are so amusing,”

You wiped at your neck, rubbing circles where his teeth pinched your skin. He sat himself upright again and stood up from the bed. “Well, my end of the deal is over. Consider you released from your contract.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Well I’m not gonna stay here.” His hand came up to his ear like a phone. “Call me if you have a soul to harvest. You know my number.”

He was gone before you could blink, like an apparition, disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared. Your eyelids grew heavier as you reflected what had just happened, and you wondered what would happen if you fell asleep in a dream. Would you just wake up?

You collapsed into bed, still unsure whether or not the past few hours had actually happened or not. Part of you hoped they had—there was something about him that was so deeply captivating, you would do anything to see him again.

As he said, you did have his ‘number’.

You woke up dazed, still unsure if you had dreamt the events of the night before. The only sure way to know was to check your assignment—if you had really fallen asleep while doing your homework, you wouldn’t have turned the assignment in, right?

You opened your online class page, scanning for the assignment, and there it was, in bold letters:

Submitted: 98%.

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt two distinct emotions: relief that you got the assignment turned in, and complete disbelief that your encounter last night was not part of your imagination.

You could summon him again.

He seemed about as harmless as a demon could seem. At first, he had been entirely intimating—his aura made it seem like he could have eaten your soul right there with no second thoughts. But watching that powerful being, capable of so much evil and chaos, do something as mundane as your math homework… that was the most entertaining, and almost adorable thing, you’d ever witnessed.

Besides, you had something he desired, something you could dangle in front of him to keep him coming back. You had your virginity, which seemed to be the ultimate prize for a demon like him. The way he had talked about it last night, it seemed you were irresistible for him. But he also accepted your rejection so easily.

As long as you kept drafting up meaningless contracts, he had to oblige, right? You weren’t sure exactly how it worked, but that’s how it seemed from your interactions last night. If it worked like you thought it did, his job as a demon was to make a contract with his summoner, no matter how insignificant, as long as he takes something in return.

That night, you read the same latin phrase you had before he’d appeared, this time off a sticky note push-pinned in your wall.

You heard him again before you saw him, and you whipped your head around to see where he was standing behind you.

He wore the same playful, devilish smirk, displaying his fangs. “Hmm, you decided to let me harvest your soul now, have you? That was quick.”

It had barely been 24 hours, and yet you’d already forgotten how incredibly hot he was, for lack of a better word. Your lips parted slightly in awe, forgetting for a second to formulate a response.

“I hope your silence is a yes,” he interrupted.

You shook your attraction to him out of your head for a moment, remembering what you brought him here for. “I want you to clean my bathroom.”

He laughed in disbelief, plopping himself down on the bed. “I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

“That’s how this works right? I summon you and do what I want. And I give you something in return.” You leaned against the desk behind you.

“What am I, your errand boy?”

“But that is how this works, right?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance. “Yes,” he grumbled reluctantly. “But what do I get this time?”

“I cook you dinner again.”

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

“I’ll let you bite my neck. Draw blood if you want.”

His eyes widened at your proposal. His reaction confirmed your suspicion—the blood of a virgin must be like crack to a demon like him. His face went flush. “Deal,” he confirmed eagerly.

You watched him as he cleaned, and there was something satisfying about watching this bloodthirsty demon scrubbing the bathtub on his hands and knees. He almost looked a bit pathetic. You stood in the door frame, unable to help from grinning at making him perform such menial tasks. A lot more was at stake now than just dinner, so you might as well have some fun with his end of the bargain. Even on his knees, you couldn’t help but watch him in awe. Every part of him was sculpted immaculately—his appearance was distinctly human, and yet he was in all other ways otherworldly.

“I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to some human’s lowly errand boy,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Less talking, more scrubbing,” you demanded with a smirk, and he shot you a deathly glare.

You followed through with your promise of dinner, and this time you came prepared with hot sauce. He devoured it eagerly, and you felt proud for making a dinner worthy of a demon’s praise.

But there was still one more promise you had to follow through on, and the thought made your head spin.

He sat across from you on the bed, eyes trained on your neck in a very un-subtle display of desire. You’d never felt so wanted, even if it was just the thought of your virgin blood that had him practically drooling.

“You sure about this?” he asked hesitantly. It was strange that he was even asking permission, as he seemed so eager the other night to just sink his teeth right into you.

“I’m contractually obligated,” you teased dryly. Then, more seriously, “But yes, I am.”

He placed his left hand on your neck, steadying it in place. His fierce, almost predatory gaze washed over you completely.

He leaned forward, parting his lips to drag his teeth gently along your neck. You tipped your head back, giving him a better angle. He teased there for a while, lingering his sharp canines on your skin. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck, the warmth of it sending chills rocketing down your spine. Your lips parted slightly, gentle moans escaping at the sensation. The situation was predatory, and yet it felt completely sensual in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

He paused for a moment, lips fluttering over your skin as he spoke. “You have no idea how hard it is not to completely drain you,” he whispered, voice dripping off his tongue with a sort of lustful hunger. “I promise I’ll only take a bit.”

He sunk down, and you heard it before you felt it—the distinct sound of teeth piercing flesh. You cried out a bit, bringing your own hand to your mouth to muffle your whines. It stung a bit, but in a twisted way, there was something about it you liked. You felt his tongue draw over your wound slowly, lapping deliberately at the fresh blood like a starved animal.

He moaned against you, and it echoed in your ear like the most divine sound you’ve ever heard. He may have been a demon, but his noises sounded like they came from heaven itself. He pulled your waist against his as he slowly bathed his tongue over the punctured flesh, his fingers squeezing as he grasped at your waist. He littered a few faint kisses across your blood-stained skin, moving slightly down towards your shoulder blades. The sudden sensation drew soft, pleasured moans from your lips.

As he finally pulled away, parting his lips tenderly away from your skin, you caught the faintest glimmer of his blacked-out eyes before they flickered back to normal. His deep red irises sparkled like rubies as he maintained eye contact. He brought one of his hands up from your waist, gently wiping at his blood-stained lips with the back of his palm. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself for a second. Your skin tastes so sweet, like candy,” he praised softly, voice deep and wanting. “And your blood, fuck—it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted.”

The seductive gleam in his eye signaled that you had awoken something in him, something you hadn’t meant to. He was still holding you, probably without even noticing, but you didn't want to draw his attention to it quite yet. You wanted to experience it for just a bit longer if you could. Something about the way he held your waist against his made you crave more of him.

Almost as if a switch flipped, his expression went dark, his fingernails suddenly digging all the way into your waist. You yelped in pain as he nearly punctured the skin through your clothes. “I need you to walk away from me right now. Before I do something I’ll regret,” he growled. You watched as his eyes flashed to the same demonic black for a moment.

You gulped, slowly backing yourself away from him, scrambling off the bed. "Farther," he groaned painfully, his breathing becoming heavy and labored. His hands clenched at the blanket on the bed, balling into restrained fists. "Now."

You ran from the room, your feet moving before you even knew where they were taking you. You ran all the way down the hallway to the front door, sliding your back down against it as you collapsed to the floor. Your limbs shook weakly, trying to calm yourself down. You must have sat there for an hour or more, completely frozen, not quite aware of the passing of time. You wiped the blood of your neck, but it didn't do much, smearing it across.

When you managed to finally stand up again, you made your way hesitantly towards the door of the bedroom, swinging your head around the doorframe first.

"San…?" you called apprehensively.

But he was gone, leaving only a light imprint on the sheets of the blood-stained bed and two deep punctures in your neck to remind you he was ever there.

[to be continued]

#san smut #choi san smut #yunho smut #ateez smut #san fanfic #ateez fanfic #hongjoong smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction

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diaphragmjellyfish · 4 years

Text

Miguel Diaz fluff alphabet

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Miguel loves your smile. He’s a funny guy and he thinks your smile lights up a room so he makes it his mission to make you laugh as much as possible. If you have some crooked teeth, he thinks it’s adorable. Also, looking at your smile makes him think about your lips which just makes him want to kiss you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Yes, after he gets a stable job. He would love kids but he doesn’t want to be like his dad and end up abandoning his family so he would make extra sure he could support the child and you and makes a conscious effort to be there for his family no matter what. Asking about their day, being involved in their sports/clubs/hobbies, making snacks when they have friends over. He just wants to be the Cool Dad ™ and would probably try to teach them karate before they could even sit up.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He loves to have you sit between his legs and lean back against his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and make sure you’re always safe and warm. It’s the perfect position for movies, video games, deep conversations, baths. He will also often come up behind you at a party and hold you like this if someone is hitting on you or if you look uncomfortable or bored. He can whisper little jokes in your ear or kiss you on the cheek.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

He loves fun dates. You both have always found fancy dinner dates really awkward. He likes something where you guys can move around, do activities, and just let loose. The go-to’s are usually mini golf, the arcade, the zoo, or just a nice picnic in the park. He often gets you little gifts before dates, though, like flowers, a stuffed animal, or a cool rock he found. His Yaya taught him never to show up for a date empty handed. And he’s a total gentleman, never making you uncomfortable or rushing things. Miguel keeps his hands to himself unless instructed otherwise.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

You are my sunshine. As cheesy as it is, Miguel sees you as the shining light in his life. You make everything better, whether that’s an injury, a bad day at school, or losing a fight at training. He knows he can always go to you and be distracted by your beautiful smile.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Miguel first knew he was in love with you when you met his family for the first time. They invited you over for dinner one night and he told you his Yaya didn’t speak much english, so you asked him to teach you some spanish so you could talk with her. It wasn’t perfect, you made lots of grammar mistakes and really only said a couple sentences to her, but the effort you made combined with the smile on Yaya’s face made him fall absolutely head-over-heels.

If you already speak spanish, it would be seeing you talk with his Yaya and joke around with her over dinner.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

The most gentle boy on the face of the Earth. Like I said earlier, Miguel keeps his hands to himself unless you tell him otherwise. The first time you guys kiss, he barely moves a muscle. You had to grab his hands and put them on your waist. Even now, when he’s teaching you karate, he refuses to hit or grab you, so you honestly don’t really learn anything lol and if you’re sick or sleeping, he’s like a feather, so scared to disturb you. It’s like touching a kitten honestly

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

All. The. Time. He’s not too big on PDA, except for hand-holding. This is how he lets everyone know you’re taken without seeming possessive or gross. Miguel will grab your hand at the mall, at school, while y’all are cuddling, at the beach, literally whenever you’re in arm’s reach from him, he’s holding your hand.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Miguel’s first impression of you is that you’re this bright ray of sunshine. He’s drawn to you like a magnet. Your eyes, your smile, your laugh! And when he finally works up the nerve to say hi (Strike first!) he thinks his heart might actually melt. When you actually laugh at the joke he makes and hold out your hand to introduce yourself, he turns bright red and can barely speak omfg this poor boy. But luckily you think it’s sweet and keep talking to him.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

He did at first, we’ve all seen how he acts with Sam and Robby, but you lay down the law. You have to tell him that it’s not cool, it makes people uncomfy, and then he finally starts to work on it. Now he’s better. He still feels jealous sometimes, but he trusts you and can control himself a bit more.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

So your first kiss. You were giving him The Look for like 10 minutes straight and he never made a move. He just stared at you. So you had to be the first one to actually lean in, but once you did, he met you halfway. His kisses match his personality. Sweet, gentle, and goofy, but with a more dominant, aggressive side if you know how to bring it out ;)

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He did. After you had dinner with his family and he realized he loved you, he told you almost immediately. This boy just wears his heart on his sleeve. He was walking you home and when you got to your house and turned around to kiss him goodnight, he had a funny look on his face. When you asked him what was wrong he kind of went ILOVEYOU! Really fast and you had to make him say it again slower because you thought he had a stroke or smth lmaooo but once he took a deep breath and said it more clearly, you jumped on him and kissed his whole face and said it back a hundred times.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

When he first introduced you to Sensei Lawrence. He thought Sensei was gonna be super mean and make fun of you, but turns out you guys had a lot in common. You loved 80’s rock music, and responded to his sass with even more sass. Johnny almost couldn’t believe Miguel was able to get such a cool babe. You guys all had lunch after taking a tour of the dojo, and it was a super fun day! You all drove around in Johnny’s car with the windows down listening to Guns ‘n Roses.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Miguel spoils you in his own little way. His family isn’t as fortunate as others, but he still finds ways to make you feel special. Instead of a diamond necklace, he gives you a cool rock he found outside and cleaned up. Instead of taking you to expensive restaurants, he spends all day cooking with Yaya to make a nice picnic for you guys to have on the beach. And he saves up to buy you nice gifts for your birthday or anniversary.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Rose gold. You’re so beautiful to him and have this natural charm that everyone falls for. You’re so radiant and yet soft and unique. He just love love loves you.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Sweety, sweetheart, baby, gorgeous, and Princess during more intimate moments.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

80’s rock music. He learns to love it through Sensei Lawrence. He even saves up to buy a record player so he can feel more connected to the past.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Build blanket forts, cuddle, bake cookies, he might even let you put makeup on him if you ask nice.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Humor. He loves cracking jokes and lightening the mood. If you’re ever feeling down you know you can go to him and he will turn that frown upside down in mere minutes. Honestly even just being in his presence makes you happier. He cheers himself up by working out, taking some alone time to get his feelings out, and then going out with some friends or with you.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Umm, karate! Duh lol the boy is obsessed with it. Also superhero movies, video games, his day, he’s honestly kind of a rambler. He can talk about anything and everything if he’s nervous enough. Let’s not forget the gas station scene in season 1…

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

You, dark rooms, white noise, puppies, linen scented candles, his mom’s cooking.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

His new muscles. Ever since joining Cobra Kai, he’s gotten pretty ripped and now it’s a struggle to get him to keep his shirt on. He worked hard for that body, he wants people to see how good he looks!

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

After college, he takes you on a hike up to this ridge overlooking a lake. It’s fall, the leaves are changing colors, and there’s no one around. You guys have been holding hands the whole time, but his hand is super sweaty even though it’s like 50 degrees out. You guys finally get to the top of the ridge and he grabs both your hands and tells you all the things he loves about you. This boy basically recites your whole love story, and as soon as he sticks his hand in his pocket you know what’s going on. He barely even got the box out of his pocket before you were jumping on him screaming Yes! You guys fell to the ground and he stopped you so he could officially get the words out. You were both crying, it was very beautiful.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

More Than Words by Extreme. You guys dance to this at your wedding.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Absolutely. Y’all marry pretty young, like right out of college. He knew you were gonna get married on the first date.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Iguana. He thinks they’re like little dinosaurs! He would name it Wade because we know he loves Deadpool.

#cobra kai #miguel diaz #hawk #robby keene #sam larusso #fluff #miguel x reader #karate kid

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laughableillusions · 3 years

Text

Farkas Meets Neloth

((AN: I wrote this at like 2am last night and I thought it was funny, I proofread it a little but of you find any errors just ignore them)) ((Also idk if this is a bit out of character for Neloth, but mostly I think he’d be at least a bit curious abt the LDB romance choices bc of research abt the magical aspects of dragons or smth))

Lindir wasn’t expecting a manhandling interrogation when he floated up to the top of the Tel Mithryn tower, he almost tripped when the old wizard rushed up to him; berating him with questions as he held his chin in a tight grip. Poor Farkas, he could tell he was a bit overwhelmed. Then again, how many times in a Nord’s life does he float about in a giant mushroom tower?

“Well you seem fine to me, or at least you’re still exactly the same as when I last saw you…” Neloth sounded disappointed.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I didn’t know you still needed m-“

“Who is this?” Neloth had now turned to Farkas, his yellow eyes narrowing as he eyed the Nord.

Lindir stammered, his protective instincts slamming right into him at the question.

“H-He…I-I got married remember?” Lindir managed, his charm automatically masking his nervousness.

Neloth’sbrow furrowed, he was ironically a few inches shorter than Farkas. But he examined as if he was some kind of strange insect, he walked around him looking him up and down. Farkas watching him stiffly, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Well, he certainly is quite the specimen.” Neloth concluded, halting back in front of the man.

Lindir was struck dumb. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or offended at the wizard’s remarks of his husband. I mean the approval of an old Telvanni Wizard was something to be proud of right?

Neloth didn’t seem to notice or care about Lindir’s reaction, only taking his hand and yanking Farkas’s face down to his level by the chin. He looked over him, turning his face this way and that, brow furrowed in concentration. The poor Nord only glanced fearfully at Lindir, awkwardly leaned down at the mercy of the dunmar. He knew better than to stop him at least, he trusted Lindir enough to know when to act and when to stay back. The half-elf knew how to charm and maneuver social situations as well as Farkas could hear a rabbit in the brush. So he would do what he did best, stand and be silent and wait until he felt it was safe enough to speak.

Lindir on the other hand was still caught up in his mind, he didn’t know if he should stop him or not. If he did he was half convinced he would be thrown down the long shaft of Tel Mithryn by Neloth if he protested. Usually if anyone even tried anything like that to Farkas they’d receive sharp consequences (be it verbal or otherwise). One could safely say Lindir was overprotective of his husband, he had the scars from multiple altercations to protect his honor to prove it. Farkas was no exception either, though he was long-cured of Lycanthropy. The possessive instinct to “protect his own” lingered, and it showed. There were many a man (and woman) who had the bruises to prove that too.

Neloth finally let go of Farkas’s chin, brushing the dust that had coated his face off his palms.

“Well, he doesn’t seem in any way special.” The old wizard half-sighed. “But I can see why you like this one, he is quite pretty if nothing else.”

Lindir flushed a deep red at that. His temper now flaring at the back-handed compliment. “This one” “specimen” “not special” it was all simply intolerable. He couldn’t allow any more of it. Farkas was probably the most special person in his life, and he wouldn’t have some old grouch determine his worth.

“How dare you speak to him like that!” Lindir shouted, his hands flying all about him. “Why do you care about who I marry?! It’s not any of your business anyway!”

Neloth didn’t even react to his tirade, which only fanned the flames of Lindir’s anger.

“You act like he’s not even a person while he’s standing right in front of you! How about you treat him like a normal person would and address him properly you wrinkly freak!”

Neloth gave the half-elf a sidelong glance of withering boredom. Sending Lindir sputtering uselessly for words and insults.

“Of course you’d say that, you’re his husband.”

Lindir let out a cry of complete and utter disgust, looking angrily at Farkas. The Nord met his eyes, obviously taking his look as a sign that ‘this was not okay, and he had to do something.’

“I think he married me for a reason other than just the way I look.” Farkas interjected firmly.

The look Neloth gave him silenced him instantly.

“Where did you find him anyway?” The wizard sounded like he was referring to a prize horse. “In Skyrim I know, but what province?”.

Lindir huffed.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s literally standing right in front of you.”

Neloth frowned, obviously he didn’t enjoy having Lindir be pouty with him. Not that he much cared for what Lindir felt, but it was much too noisy and it distracted him. But if it would shut him up, he supposed he would ask him.

He sighed annoyingly, turning back to Farkas.

“Where are you from?”

Farkas forced himself to look at him, he would hate to admit it, but the wizard scared him. He was always a bit wary when it came to magic, even when Lindir taught him some basic restoration spells he never really trusted it. But those countless burns he sustained from battles against mages, the fireballs shot straight at his face…it was enough to at least have some respect for the craft. He could never really picture going into battle without any sort of weapon, sure swinging a sword around took training. But even then anyone could pick up a sword and use it training or not.

Coming face to face with a master wizard, a wizard that probably studied his craft for more years than he had been alive; honed and perfected every spell so that even the twitch of his fingers would produce what he wanted. Farkas couldn’t fathom the ability this man had over magic, and it was awe-inspiring as well as terrifying.

Neloth was obviously getting annoyed from Farkas’s lack of answer. He could feel himself being read by the Nord, like those pale eyes tried to prod into him.

“Well?” Neloth barked.

Farkas blinked, glancing back at Lindir before pulling together an answer.

“Whiterun, Jorrvaskyr actually.” He choked out. “I-I’m with The Companions…”

Neloth nodded a bit thoughtfully.

“The Companions eh? As in the 100 companions of Ysgrammor...” He thought for a moment, looking Farkas up and down once again. “I suppose that means you’re his legacy hm?” He concluded.

Farkas decided to keep the obligatory Companion Value Lecture to himself, he only knew so much anyway, and didn’t care much for the history either. He just nodded, hoping it would appease the wizard.

It seemed to, and he finally turned away from him. Farkas let out a breath of relief, scooting closer to Lindir to try and recover himself. He didn’t know how much more of this interrogation he could take.

Lindir took his large hand and squeezed it, obviously feeling the same way.

“Well with that out of the way, what is it that you want?” Neloth now said, his back to them.

Lindir thought for a moment, he had gotten so carried away with protecting Farkas the reason for making this tedious trip had escaped him briefly.

“Oh right! Yes,” Lindir said, now completely composed once again. “I’m here about the black books?”

Neloth turned back to him, not even paying attention to the couple’s interlocked hands.

“I thought as much, now come…I have something to show you.” He said, already walking off and not waiting for either of them to catch up.

#skyrim #the elder scrolls #farkas #skyrim companions #farkas x dragonborn #farkas x reader #neloth #mini fic #one shot #tesblr #skyrim oc #tel mithryn #tes v #tes #my writing #writing

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leviaju · 4 years

Text

𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚌𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚢!

“𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵,” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯, 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴, “𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵?”

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘩𝘮?” 𝘈 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦.

“𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

ꜱᴀᴛᴀɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ɴꜱꜰᴡ

5.7ᴋ+

incl: choking, more degradation than i was expecting tbh, collars and cat ears!, gagging, he’s also kinda possessive, thigh riding, pet names, so much porn oh god i am a sinner, plus some wholesome satan moments, as well as some wholesome brotherly bonding between satan and luci

hey guYS!!! i haven’t read satan’s birthday event so this could end up being totally OOC buT i wanted to write smth for my nerd boy ;;;;;;; also this ended up being way longer than i expected,,, i wanted 2k at most and just porn,,, but i got caRRIED aWAY

anYWAYS it’s all under the cut! hbd bby boy muah

this was also highkey inspired by this photoset by memjioof on twt,,,,, so,,,,,,,,,,,,

Satan was never a fan of his birthday. It was a reminder of his origin, where he came from, and he wasn’t happy about it. Not at all, when everyone is in his face indirectly reminding him that he’s not his own person, that he’s simply an extension of someone else.

‘Never a fan’ is an understatement. Satan very, truly, genuinely, hated his birthday.

That is, until you came along.

In all honesty, Satan dreaded this day more than any other. He’d hoped that you’d just not find out, that he could bypass this day in peace and not have to worry about any frivolous displays, which all became inadvertent reminders that he’s not his own person.

Satan’s also not an idiot, though. He’s seen you sneak around, whispering to his brothers as the days continue to pass. He’s watched as you’d stop conversations with them abruptly, looking like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar. It worried him at first, that you were going behind his back and keeping secrets, that you were being dishonest with him and seeking others to make up for what he lacks. You’re too genuine for that though, he knows this. If you were looking for others, you’d ensure to tell him first and to put an end to whatever the two of you had together now. His anxieties were completely quelled when you began not-so-subtly asking him if he was interested in any new books or charms. Instead, they were replaced with a completely different feeling.

‘Excited’ was a name for it, but it didn’t feel quite right. ‘Nervous’ also worked, but there were a few gaps it didn’t fill. ‘Anticipation’, maybe… or perhaps even ‘restlessness’. Regardless, Satan began feeling jittery whenever he thought about it, whenever he thought about spending his special day with you. It was.. different. New. For the first time in millennia, Satan found himself feeling something other than complete and utter apprehension towards the celebration of his birthday.

Could it even be called a birthday? He was never born, unlike his brothers. Hell, for a good portion of his life, he couldn’t even do anything, only watch through the eyes of the man he loathed the most. And yet…

He found himself filled to the brim with joy at the thought of spending this day with you. Only you.

In fact, surprising even himself, he’d taken you for walks in the city, watching the gears turning in your brain as you silently pondered what to get for him. He felt damn near giddy, stringing you along like this, watching your eyes light up whenever he showed interest in something. It made him really happy to see you care so much for him. Of course, he did his best to hide it, but even he couldn’t deny that this was the happiest he’d ever been at this time of the year.

And his brothers were terrified.

Usually, when this time began to roll around again, Satan’s already short fuse became even shorter, he was a powder keg about to explode at any given moment. He’d lock himself in his room, and if anyone were to disturb him, they’d have to be ready to bear his wrath, unchecked and untamed. Satan had never once celebrated his birthday after the first time the brothers all tried to plan a surprise party for him, and in one fell swoop, he destroyed the decorations, as well as the room with it.

Yet… Satan was happy. And smiling. Even humming as he cooked, which never happened.

“L… Lucifer…” Mammon pushed the door of his older brother’s room open, stepping in like a dog with its tail between its legs. “I dunno what’s going on, but--”

“I know.” Lucifer was sitting at his large desk, elbows resting on the fine wood, hands entwined with themselves. He let out a long sigh, taking a moment to think.

Mammon walked in a bit more, only taking a quick moment to scan the room for valuables. At the feeling of Lucifer’s piercing eyes on him, however, he diverted his attention.

“Well, what do we do? Last time we had a party, it didn’t really… end up well.” Mammon winced at the memory. He’d had to prune his wings constantly for weeks after that, lest he never fly again.

Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment, the usually unmovable demon looking rather shaken. He’s contemplated this a lot, and Mammon knew it was really worrying his brother when he moved over to sit on the edge of the mahogany desk, and Lucifer didn’t say anything. The room was silent, almost too silent, and Mammon began to fiddle with the feather charm attached to his belt.

There was the sound of yet another sigh, and Lucifer’s eyes caught Mammon’s once more. The latter froze.

“I… I may have an idea.”

Mammon sensed his impending doom.

Satan knows when his brothers are scheming, but for once it seems he’s not included. Irritating.

Even so, they’ve been leaving you two alone much more than usual, so he couldn’t find it in himself to complain all that much. Now, with your head in his lap as he reads a tome, he finds it doesn’t bother him at all.

“Hey, Satan?” Your voice pulls him from his book and he looks down to you, a soft expression on his lips. His fingers, rested in your hair, massage your scalp gently. You hum.

“If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

Satan laughs quietly, setting the tome down to give you his full attention. You’ve been asking questions like this all week, and he knows exactly why. Nevertheless, he humours you. A warm blush dusts his cheek as he prepares his answer.

“You.”

Short, simple, but truer than anything he’s said before. He can’t help the growing fondness in his heart as he watches you pause, taken aback by his answer, before the most loving of smiles graces your lips. He’s so, irrevocably, in love with you.

“I-- uh,” you stutter, and he laughs. “That’s not fair! Besides, wouldn’t you like to have a book more? Or maybe something more entertaining...” You trail off as you think, but the red on your cheeks gives away your thoughts easily enough. Satan’s lap grows cold as you lift your head, but his momentary disappointment is whisked away when he watches your face get close to his own, your noses near millimetres from touching. Your eyes are trained on his, studying closely. His own crinkle with joy.

“Nope, not really. A book can entertain me for a few days, but you could entertain me for a lifetime.” Once again, Satan laughs wholeheartedly as you huff, pulling away from him and crossing your arms. You’re so fun to tease.

“But really, I don’t want anything other than you.” His voice quiets to a murmur. “It’s kind of embarrassing to say, but it’s the truth.” Satan’s cheeks are the beautiful shade of red that you’ve come to love, but the look in his eyes is earnest and genuine. Despite still being just a bit frustrated at his incredibly unhelpful response, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips. Satan meets you halfway, smiling into the kiss.

“You’re the worst,” you mumble, feeling his breath against your lips. He chuckles quietly.

“I know.”

Satan’s glad that his brothers have been leaving you alone. As the day of interest approaches, however, your attention gets more and more divided, until he realizes that the only time he sees you is during meals.

“____, would you like to--”

“Sorry brother dearest, I already called dibs!”

Satan watches with disdain as Asmodeus takes your arm, already pulling you away. An apologetic smile crosses your face, your lips shaping an “I’m sorry” before you’re pulled out of sight. Satan grumbles, fists balling up so tight that he can feel the sharp pain of his fingernails digging into his palms. Everyone who was left in the dining room quickly made their way out, save for Satan and Lucifer, the former who’s doing his best not to burst, and the latter who’s watching him carefully.

“What do you want?” Satan asks flatly, eyes shifting from the doorway to his eldest brother. Lucifer stands from his chair, adjusting his sleeve collars.

“Nothing. My apologies. I’ll be out of your way.” Lucifer’s reply comes out a lot more genuine than Satan had expected, and he’s pulled from his anger to watch Lucifer leave the room, completely aghast. It takes Satan’s usually quick mind a few moments to actually comprehend what just happened, and even then he still just kind of… stands there.

He walks to his room, still in a bit of a daze. He runs into none of his brothers on the way there, with the plan to read throughout the night. With you gone, he has no other way to relieve his stress.

Satan would never admit it in a million years, but the knock on his door makes him jump, nearly throwing the novel to the other side of the room. He was too invested in his book. A quick glance at his clock tells him it’s midnight, and the sudden interruption, as well as the lack of you over the past few days, has culminated into a wave of anger that causes him to stomp towards the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges as he swings it open.

“What the fuck--”

“Happy birthday, Satan!” Your smile immediately disarms him and gives him pause, his body a statue as you snake your arms around his waist. He has to pry his hand from the doorknob, now dented in the shape of his fist, before he can reciprocate.

“Sorry if I scared you,” you murmur into his shoulder, squeezing him gently when his arms wrap around you. You lift your head, smiling brightly. Satan doesn’t seem to remember the anger he’d felt mere moments before.

“You didn’t,” he hums, before placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m glad to see you, feels like it’s been a while.”

“Sorry.” You let go of him, much to his dismay, but he watches happily as you make your way into the room with a familiarity similar to his own. You plop yourself on the bed, before opening your arms and looking at him expectantly.

“I don’t have a present,” you begin, a slight blush dusting the highs of your cheeks, “but if you’d like, I can stay up all night with you doing whatever you want?”

“Whatever I want, hm?” A mischievous smirk crosses Satan’s face, but morphs to a genuine smile when you nod hesitantly. “I see. I want you, then. All night long.” His voice lowers as he draws closer, and he can hear your heart speed up. Satan climbs onto the bed and watches as you stiffen, but lays down next to you, taking you into his arms. Your face is against his chest, and you can feel him trying to steady his breath.

“Couldn’t help but want to tease you, sorry,” he chuckles, and you lift the covers over both of your bodies. The room is silent but comfortable. The two of you get comfortable in each others’ arms, and Satan sighs happily.

You pause, lifting your head to look up at him. He meets your eyes, curiosity in his gaze.

“... Seriously? This is it?”

Satan laughs, his entire face lighting up. Your chest aches. When he calms, he raises a hand to cup your cheek.

“This is it. I’ve… I’ve missed you all week.”

You hum, placing your hand on his. He closes his eyes for a moment.

“I’ve missed you too,” you whisper.

Soon enough, you hear as his breath slows and steadies itself. For a bit, you watch his face, a truly open, vulnerable expression that only you get to see. A gentle kiss is pressed to the corner of his eye, before you snuggle up close to him, allowing sleep to take you over.

Morning comes too early, Satan thinks. And yet, with morning comes alertness, and when he’s alert he can watch you, cuddled up against him closely, so maybe it’s okay.

He also watches as consciousness slowly sneaks its way into your bones, your eyes crinkling as you try and will yourself back to sleep. He breathes out a laugh. Eventually, your bleary eyes open and meet his, and the sleepy smile on your face is enough to fill his heart for the rest of his life.

He hopes he can see this every morning.

The two of you stay in bed pretty much all day, just talking and enjoying each other’s company. Satan is much softer than usual, which is saying a lot, and you’re absolutely eating up all of the attention. As the hours fly by, however, eventually you glance at your D.D.D. and sit up in a panic.

“What’s wrong?” Satan sits up as well, glancing over at you worriedly.

“I’m hungry!” You seem a lot more panicked than usual, and Satan’s brows furrow. He hums thoughtfully. “It’s dinnertime, you know? We’ve only eaten snacks all day!”

Your laugh is a bit too forced, and Satan immediately knows what’s going on. He grumbles.

“Are you actually hungry?” He asks, situating himself so he’s right in your face. You meet his eyes, and the worry on your face disappears.

You nod.

“Mhm,” you smile, pecking his nose before standing out of bed. Satan groans dejectedly but eventually climbs out as well. “Fine, fine,” he relents, pulling on a shirt. “But we’ll come right back after, okay?”

“Okay!” Your smile compels him to write sonnets. That has to wait, though.

Eventually, the two of you make your way towards the dining room. As soon as you’d left the bedroom, you’d been jittery. All of a sudden you’d stopped talking and Satan squeezes your hand reassuringly. He knows what’s going on, but for your benefit, he keeps quiet. The two of you turn into the dining room, and he’s genuinely surprised.

“I know you don’t really like celebrating your birthday,” you start, your voice shy. He wants to kiss you right here. “But I hope this is okay!”

The dining room is filled with his favourite foods, all lined up on the large table in the centre. Better yet, his brother’s are all sitting quietly. Even Beelzebub, who seems to be drooling over the food. Best of all, Lucifer is nowhere in sight. Satan smiles, before taking you to the table, pulling out a chair for you before sitting down beside you.

“Happy birthday, bro. Figured ya wouldn’t wanna celebrate, but ______ insisted,’ Mammon smiles nervously, but the look on Satan’s face reassures him. The tension in the room eases at once, and Satan hums.

“If that’s the case, then I guess just this is okay. Thank you.” As soon as Satan reaches for the food, everyone else begins to eat. Beelzebub, who felt like he was being tortured, grins happily as he fills his plate and stuffs his mouth. You glance over at Satan, and the smile is still on his lips.

“I have one more surprise for you,” you say quietly, leaned in towards him. “But I promise you’ll like it.”

“Oh?” Satan laughs quietly, lifting his fork up to your lips. You take a bite of the morsel on the end of it, and his smile grows. “I can’t wait, then.”

Your heart is pounding as you make your way towards Satan’s room, having separated from him after dinner. You’d mentioned you had to grab something from your room, and the box was now clutched in your sweaty palms. It’s not that you and Satan had never done anything like this before, but it’s the first time incorporating other… elements into it. You hope he likes it. You’re sure he will, but there’s a part of you that continues to worry regardless.

The door to Satan’s room opens before you get to knock, and your eyes open wide. Satan can’t help but laugh, apologizing for startling you. His attention is quickly captivated by the beautiful box in your hands, a lovely, luminescent green bow on the top.

He tilts his head, but you walk in without saying much. He shuts the door behind you, and watches your form curiously.

“Do you mind if I open your present for you?” The nerves in your voice are enough to start to worry him, and he simply nods. You make your way over to his bathroom, taking the gift with you, and Satan is left incredibly confused. He watches the door to his bathroom close, and he sits on the bed. He was rather excited for tonight, but the way you’re acting has him feeling nervous. As soon as you step out of the bathroom, however, he understands exactly why you were so quiet.

“Happy Birthday,” you smile gently, an arm crossed over your torso. Satan swallows hard as he looks you up and down, and is completely overwhelmed for a moment. Your breasts are so lovingly hugged by a white lace brassiere, ribbons in the back keeping it snug to your torso. Your matching underwear is attached by garters to thigh-highs, the elastic at the top squishing your thighs just right. Satan licks his lips, craving to hold you. That’s not what captured his attention, however. No, what truly got him excited was the cute cat ears adorning your head, the same colour as your hair, and the bright green collar tight around your neck. You stand there nervous but excited as Satan drinks in your appearance, and the muscles in your thighs tense as he begins walking towards you.

“I’m not one for birthdays or presents, but...” one of Satan’s hands comes to rest on your waist, sliding down to tease the top of your underwear. The other hand coasts up your arm, before he slips two fingers under the side of your collar, tugging gently. “... This is a more-than-welcome surprise.”

Satan feels as if he could devour you in one bite. You look downright delectable, and a part of him is overwhelmed. Where does he start? He’s typically one to savour his meals, especially when they’re as delicious as you, but he also wants to have you as many times as possible. He looks into your eyes as he contemplates, watching the wavering of your irises, and he can’t help himself when he leans down into your lips, still tugging onto your collar.

The hand on your hip grips you tightly as Satan claims your mouth, and you sigh into the kiss. This whole thing was pretty nerve-wracking, but his response is more than happily received. A breathy moan leaves your mouth as Satan bites down on your lip, withdrawing.

“Now, my pretty little pet. Will you allow me to indulge in my present?”

With the way Satan is treating you, you could almost believe it’s actually your birthday, not his. With your back on the bed, your hands tangle into his hair, his fingers just barely brushing against your most sensitive area as he licks and sucks on your clit. Already, your body is covered in hickies, from your jawline to all the way down your left leg, where the garter has been torn off and the thigh-high ripped apart and laying in threads on the floor. Once again, his fingers push into you, coated in arousal. His lips pop off of you, and you whine.

“What, pet, have I left you wordless? You’re being so good for me,” he smiles, and if your slick wasn’t coating his chin you’d almost believe he’s being genuine. Still, he thrusts his fingers into you, and you have to gasp for air before speaking.

“S-Satan,” you sigh, your hands moving up to grip the pillow beneath your head. He’s been teasing you for what feels like hours already, and all he’s done for himself is take his shirt off. You crave to feel him, crave to touch him, and yet he won’t let you. Satan laughs, withdrawing his fingers from you to put them to your lips. You open your mouth and he sticks them in, humming happily when he feels you cleaning his fingers diligently.

“What? It’s my birthday, isn’t it? I can do whatever I’d like with my present.” Satan chuckles as you look up at him imploringly. He presses his fingers farther into your mouth, down your throat, and makes sure you gag before pulling them away.

“You haven’t even let me do anything to you yet.” You sound almost as if you’re pouting, and Satan can’t help the pride that flares up in his chest. You’re so good to him. “Please, wanna make you feel good.” You’d squeeze your thighs together, but Satan had lodged his body between your legs. He takes a moment to think, before smiling.

“Make me feel good then, kitten,” is all the permission you get before he pulls away, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Quickly, you get up, legs trembling. His fingers and tongue have edged you enough to get you desperate for relief, and yet you still wish to make sure he’s taken care of. Satan can’t help but smile at the thought. You manage to make your way off the bed and between his legs, hands shaky as you undo his belt and pull his pants down.

Satan is hard, incredibly so, and you feel more parched than you ever have in your life. Quickly, you pull his cock out of his briefs, and the freedom causes him to suck in a breath through his teeth. Usually, this is where you tease, where you lick at the head of his cock and don’t take him in until he’s damn near begging, but this time you do so without prompting. You ease your way down to the base and Satan’s hand, careful of the ears adorning your head, makes its way into your hair, tugging on it to guide your head. When your eyes flick up they see he’s already watching you, and you take him as far as you can go. Satan allows you to pull back, but soon enough he’s guiding your rhythm, fucking your throat quickly. The sounds filling the room are nothing short of sinful.

“Fuck, pet,” he gasps out, head tilted back. Satan is doing his best to stop from moaning, but he can’t help the grunts that leave his chest as your hot mouth moves around him. His grip on your hair is almost painful, and you can feel your throat growing more and more raw each time he fucks into you. “You’re so fucking good for me, aren’t you? You-- ah-- are just doing whatever I want.” Satan curses once more, heaving breaths. Your hands, placed on his thighs, feel the muscles in his body tense, as do yours. Fuck, you want to cum. You don't even notice that you’re wiggling your hips, seeking any kind of friction.

“Mm, kitten,” he moans, and his hips stutter for a moment. Tears fall from your eyes as he forces you down to the base, and it takes everything you have not to gag. You moan around his cock, and he chokes out a breath. You tap on his thighs after a few seconds, and he pulls your mouth off of him completely, panting hard. “You’re so obedient, doing exactly what I want.” His hand moved from your mussed hair down to your cheek, which he strokes gently with his thumb.

Satan takes a few moments to calm himself down, before guiding you up and onto his lap. His cock, wet and dripping precum, is pressed against both of your stomachs.

“You’re still so wet for me, kitten,” Satan laughs, feeling your slick against his leg. His hands move to your hips and press you down against his thigh, and your air leaves you quickly in the form of a breathy moan. He flexes his muscles as he slowly grinds you against him, and you grasp desperately at his shoulders. “Did you get off on me fucking your throat? Hm?” A shiver runs up your spine as his nails press crescent shapes into your skin.

“You perfect little slut,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you. Despite the composure he pretends to have, you can tell by the way that his lips desperately claim yours that he’s feeling just as needy as you are. You scratch down his back and he moans into your mouth. “Just for me, mm?” His kisses trail down to your neck again, where he bites down gently on your skin. Between his words, his thigh grinding against you, and however long he spent edging you before, the coil in your stomach has grown incredibly tight.

“Satan, I--” You cut yourself off with a desperate moan and he snickers, licking at the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Cum then, pet. Cum on my thigh like the beautiful little slut you are.”

Your stomach grows unbelievably tight, and once again you feel him laugh against your skin. One of his hands comes down to begin quickly rubbing your clit in circles, and that’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap. There’s a moment of calm, relief, before your orgasm crashes into you, and you desperately hold onto Satan as he presses you down onto his thigh once more. You cry out something that he supposes is his name, but your voice is too coated in pleasure for him to actually make sense of the words. He lifts his head to watch your face, before leaning in to meet your lips once more. You’re gasping for breath, which makes it difficult, but he enjoys it even more because of that.

“Perfect… you’re so beautiful.” The look in his eyes is nothing short of loving as he begins manoeuvring both you and himself properly onto the bed. You’re still a bit hazy from the intensity of the orgasm, but you manage to take his hints. Soon enough, you’re rested on your knees and elbows on the bed, and Satan is pressing kisses to your ass.

“You’re dripping down your thighs, pet,” he hums against your skin, using his fingers to collect some of your arousal. Without warning, he plunges his fingers into you once more, and you gasp out a moan.

“Satan, please, I…” Your voice trails off as you breathe in, short on air. Your cunt clenches around nothing as you wiggle your hips, hoping to goad him into finally filling you up. It’s all you can think about, he’s all you can think about, and you’ve stopped caring completely about pride.

“I, fuck Satan, I want you so bad.” You feel him pause, and the smile that crosses your lips is unintentional. “Please, baby, please fill me up with your cock. Please, I-- I want you so bad, want it so bad.”

That seems to be enough to get what you want. You hear Satan move behind you, and soon enough the tip of his cock rests against your slick opening. Both of you let out a shaky breath, and you can feel Satan lean over you. Once again, his fingers hook onto your collar and he tugs, cutting off your air supply just enough to fully grab your attention.

“I’m going to take you now,” he hums, slowly pushing himself inside. “Gonna mark that pretty little cunt and make it all mine. Gonna make sure no one else wants you afterwards, because you’re going to smell like me, inside and out.” To emphasize his words he pushes into you completely, and you cry out at the feeling, squeezing around him so deliciously. He pulls on your collar harder, and you gasp for air. Satan wastes no time in starting a relentless pace, hitting the deepest parts inside of you. His grip on the collar loosens when you get lightheaded, but he never lets go. That mouthwatering press against your throat has you tightening around Satan, and he grunts out. He’s about to speak when you grind back against him, meeting his thrusts, and a muddled string of words leave his lips instead.

“Fuck,” you can tell Satan’s composure is slipping, and your body sings with anticipation. The room is filled with your moans, his panting, and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Satan uses his free hand to pull you up off of your arms, raising your torso so the two of you are kneeling. In this position, he can fondle you so much easier, and he fully takes advantage of it, massaging your breast harshly and tugging on your nipple. You cry out after a particularly rough thrust, and once again feel the pleasure pooling low in your stomach. Satan bites into your shoulder, and the hand that was pulling on your collar moves down to your clit once more, rubbing you just the way you like it.

Satan grunts and your body jerks, the pleasure becoming damn near overwhelming. “You’re so fucking slutty,” he groans, and you know that he’s not trying to keep up appearances anymore. His cock thrusts into you faster, harder, and you feel your body grow impossibly tight. “Gonna breed you, gonna claim you, gonna make you all fucking mine.” The words are forced out, pants and moans interspersed throughout. He growls, directly in your ear, and you’re so close, so damn close.

“Gonna make it so that no one else wants you.” Satan curses loudly, and the sound is music to your ears. You can’t think at all, and the only thing spilling from your lips are moans and garbled versions of his name. “Fuck, I love you so much,” he breathes out, and that’s your breaking point. Once again you feel as climax overwhelms your body, and your mind is filled with nothing but thoughts of Satan. His thrusts, rough and erratic, have completely lost any sense of rhythm. In your pleasure addled brain, all you know to do is egg him on, get him to feel as good as you do.

“Please baby, f-fuck, Satan, please. Fill me up.” His fingers move back up to loop around your collar and he pulls hard, just as you were about to speak more. Your words stop abruptly, and the sounds of you trying to speak push him over the edge. Satan’s hips stutter, before pausing completely. Warm cum fills your insides and you sigh at the feeling, almost relieved when Satan lets go of you. You fall onto your hands on the bed, bones feeling like jelly. He takes a few moments to regain his composure, before pulling out with a low groan. You collapse, exhausted, and he laughs quietly.

“You did so well for me, kitten. You always do,” he smiles, dropping his body onto the mattress next to you. He knows the two of you need to get clean, and he knows that his sheets should be washed, but he’ll do that in a bit. For now, he takes you into his arms, your bare skin hot against his own. You sigh happily, eyes closed.

“No sleeping yet, beautiful. I haven’t indulged in my present to the full extent.” His smirk is mischievous. Maybe you can go for a few more rounds. It is his birthday, after all.

Many hours later, Satan finds himself clean, fully dressed, and on the way back from the laundry room after dropping his sheets off. The House of Lamentation is dead silent, and Satan is still on a high from his birthday present. How could he not be? He’s fully satiated, relaxed, and happier than he’d been in a while. Not only that, but you’re waiting for him in his bed, curled up in his sheets, smelling like his body soap. He has every single reason to feel over the moon.

Except something weighs on him. It’s easy to ignore for the most part, but when he passes by the library and hears the slow, melancholy melody of a song he knows all too well, he stops.

Ugh, fuck, okay... fine.

Satan groans to himself as he walks into the library, making his way to the large door on one of the walls. He knocks gently, and when he’s met with no answer, he enters anyway. Pride be damned.

Lucifer looks over, surprised by having a visitor and even more surprised by who it is. He doesn’t speak, only watching as Satan enters the room, taking only a few steps in.

Neither of them says anything, watching each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. It ends up being Satan, who sighs.

“Thank you. For today.”

Lucifer is taken completely aback. Placing his hand on his chest he sits up straight, shaking his head.

“I don’t know what--”

“Shut up.” Lucifer’s anger swells for a moment, but he takes a deep breath to calm down. Satan doesn’t seem to care. “I know you helped _____ with all of this. It was probably your idea to begin with.”

Lucifer doesn’t reply, and that is enough to confirm Satan’s suspicions. He runs a hand through his hair, before crossing his arms.

“So… Thanks. I’m going to bed now.”

Satan turns on his heels and begins walking out the door, but is stopped when Lucifer calls out, his voice warmer than Satan has ever heard.

“Happy birthday, brother.”

Satan stands in the doorway a moment, looking at the floor. Once again, he sighs.

“Go to bed. You look like shit,” he replies, before shutting the large office door behind him. He almost, almost, misses the sound of his eldest brother’s laugh bouncing off the walls.

Maybe birthdays aren’t all that bad.

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ashtonq247 · 4 years

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Kaminari Denki headcannons!!

Bc it’s his bday and I love him (this will not cover his fam bc I switch between backstories with him so much that I just have no clue)

Buckle up bc this is a very long post I did not mean to get this deep lol

Let’s start with the most obvious- he makes friends easily, but I’m not just talking other students, I’m also talking the staff. This boy makes friends with the janitors and the lunch ladies and even the teachers!! He also makes friends with the security bots and pranks them a lot

This stems from him wanting ppl to like him. I think this bc of the fact that his character sheet says he likes all things “trendy” - I think he rlly wants to be known as the cool guy bc he is rlly insecure of himself

And as much as I think he is very trendy, I also think he is a big literature nerd! I believe he is more likely to listen to audio books tho, but I’m not entirely 100% sure though. He tries to keep this underwrap, but eventually he does join momo’s book club and brings completely different analysis to the table :D

He is just generally into the arts (we see this in cannon- he plays guitar, is seen drawing Aizawa, references Hemingway) so I see him as a more creative guy rather than a logically minded dude

This boy has adhd, anxiety, and dyslexia and dyscalcula (he was able to work through dyslexia bc he read so much, but still has problems with his dyscalcula) and this causes issues for him in school. He also a HUGE procrastinator. He often feels stupid and dumb bc if it (also doesn’t help that even his friends joke abt it too, but as long as it’s just a joke he shouldn’t make a big deal abt it right??)

I say he has anxiety because of the way he reacts to when he is training- always panicking and frying his brain. I think what stans between him and being rlly op is his anxiety and view of himself

Speaking of him frying his brain, I headcannon he has litchenburg figures, which if u don’t know r these rlly cool scars that look kinda like branches with what kinda looks like flowers so cool tbh, and BEFORE u say “he obviously doesn’t have them cannonly” let me just say that his quirk affects his brain cannonly!! It’s not weird for it to also affect his skin!!! I think he might have had litchenburg figures if they were more commonly known as it is a very cool thing tbh

I also think that bc his brain gets impacted by his quirk, sometimes his nerves get impacted too. This means he sometimes can’t taste food (and he doesn’t eat it when he can’t taste it, which pisses Bakugo off) and he also can’t feel things as well (I believe the class figures this out after Denki went to poor himself some tea but didn’t know the kettle was still rlly hot and so he grabbed it not knowing he was burning himself until he handed it over to someone who then dropped the pot bc it was so hot- needles to say he had to go to recovery girl that day)

He has never been to the aquarium bc as a child he had terrible control over his quirk and that made ppl nervous to put him near water (he goes as a teen with the bakusquad and is absolutely floored- his favorite creatures are of course all the sting rays, jelly fish, and electric eel- cue bakusquad comparing him to the brainless jellyfish)

He also doesn’t know how to swim till he was in middle school (once he was in better control of his quirk he went out and learned to swim on his own bc he had to learn how if he wanted to be a hero u know? He never quit got the hang of it tho)

Storms make him very energized and his already low ability to focus worsens. Prone to accidentally zapping ppl. He mostly stays in his room when storms happen bc he doesn’t want to hurt ppl/ wreck electronics on accident. He doesn’t even get to chat with friends on the phone bc he would wreck it so storms get rlly lonely :(

Also is basically a lightning rod. It hurts bc of how forceful it is, but it’s also not that big of a deal to him

Is prtty forgetful unfortunately due to all the times he fried his brain. It’s something he really tries not to think about

He probs can’t sleep very easily due to all his energy

He hates frying his brain bc it’s very hard to understand what’s going on when he does. Everything is a lot more sluggish and things are simultaneously way too much and he gets hyper sensitive and at the same time his senses are also very groggy and weird. It’s over all a bad time, but he got used to it

Whenever he fried his brain instead of being all wheyyy and thumbs upy he use to act more vegetative which rlly freaked ppl out so he eventually learned to get to where he is now when he fries his brain

Kids use to take advantage of his whey mode and do pranks on him which often got him hurt, but he never rlly felt it at first so he didn’t mind to bad. As long it was just joking and they were having fun right??

Time for happy ones!! His favorite foods (besides burgers, those r his favorite cannonly) all have some coralation with memes (speggeti tacos, mac n cheese, “chonky” milk, chicken nuggy, etc)

He is a meme lord yes

Stans pikachu (obvi)

U cannot convince me that he doesn’t paint his nails black, maybe with a little lightning bolt on his middle finger. This boy cannonly wears a choker common

He does face masks with Mina!! I believe he cares abt his looks greatly, and does beauty routines with Mina all the time. I’m constantly switching btween wether or not he owns it, or is a bit insecure and tries not to show this side to much to the boys

Why does this show not give him skinny jeans?? I mean common his entire style calls for skinny jeans. Maybe it’s Japan fashion or smth bc if it was in America he’d have skinny jeans bc it’s the trendy thing u know

Cannot cook. Can barely work the microwave. Claims unmarked food and eats it at midnight

Has a lot of weird info stored in his brain- how weather works, psychology stuff, weird facts abt bees, etc- that he learns randomly, never rlly trying to learn them but it sort of just happens u know. This frustrates Bakugo and jirou to no end bc he knows all these useless facts about how 1,200,000 mosquitos is all it takes for them to all at once drain a human of all their blood in a second, but not about how to work the pathagorean theorem

Idk why I think this (and it’s a popular headcannon too), but he knows at least 3/4 languages. It just suits him?? Bc he is a ppl person??? I don’t know??

Gets major test anxiety

Teachers either love him or hate him no in between. A lot of his elementary teachers absolutely hated him and would tear him down by calling him stupid and annoying. In middle school when he learns to control his quirk better, teachers rlly liked him- in the way that class clown trouble makers are liked by teachers. He may not excel in his class but he is a pretty funny dude.

He is constantly either underestimated or overestimated. Kaminari himself does this as well. It’s part of the issue with his hero training

Cats do not like him. They may like being petted bc if the static electricity, but when Kami pets cats he just absorbs the static- no pleasure :(((- or he accidentally has too much static electricity. If so then only tge rlly fluffy cats like him. Either case, shinsou finds a cat that likes kaminari as well and it is very cute :33

THE class prankster. Even on the teachers! The death glare Aizawa gave him on the one time prancing him worked is one kaminari will never forget (he still tries to prank him despite this lol)

Constantly teasing Bakugo as a way to press his buttons. It’s debatable on wether or not this helps bakugo’s anger issues

He is the wingman between Bakugo and Kirishima change my mind!!

Also mandatory kaminari is bisexual headcannon bc he rlly gives me those vibes. I think he doesn’t know yet that he’s bisexual, and when he thinks a fellow bro is hot he thinks he’s just admiring his bro u know. Maybe even thinks he is jealous. He does flirt with all genders tho mostly as a joke. He draws dicks as jokes but he always puts a little too much detail in them for him to rlly be straight

Can be used as a defibrillator as long as he can focus

Honestly there’s so much stuff kaminari has the potential to do with his quirk it’s a shame the manga/anime doesn’t use it

Like I rlly want to see him use his quirk in training to blow out all the lights in a building so he can use it for his advantage

That’d be badass

Also his quirk makes him very hard to be caught when their training. He can slip out of ppls grasp easily with a shock, and he also just has good reflexes in genral (I think this is cannon). Cue class 1-a running around trying and failing to catch him lol. Their best bet is to get him to fry his brain :(

He was popular in school before UA bc of his quirk and bc of how charming and easy to get a long with he is. This lead a lot of his friends to be very shallow. He didn’t rlly think about wether or not someone was trying to be his friend or not, he just liked being liked. This lead him to his whole liking trendy things, and he often felt that if he wasn’t seen as cool or funny his friends would all leave him. His whole rlly liking to talk thing caused a lot of ppl to think he was annoying at times, but he was never rlly able to lose that trait

The bakusquad was the first friend group he got rlly close too. He felt he can be himself around them and be the crackhead he was always meant to be. He still always concerned about wether they might leave him if he’s too annoying bc of anxiety but he’s getting better :)

He is a bringer of chaos and that’s part of his charm! Never dull with Denki around. He’s always doing the weirdest stuff, and ever since Mina, Kiri, and Sero, this has only doubled!

He is always calling Momo a genius (bc she is) and they are rlly good friends

Is an unofficial emo squad member (just look at his hero costume)

A sinnamon roll I’m srry but he ain’t a cinnamon roll. He has a dirty mind lol

Peepee jokes

Probably does tik tok dances I’m sorry

Nintendo fan for life

Xbox or PlayStation?- “Nintendo wut u mean”

Abbreviates so much it’s kinda hard to read,. Like if u thought I was bad this boy is soo much worse

It’s kinda ironic bc he has a very large vocabulary lol

He only uses it when he’s being sassy or very passionate

Mixes his gen z lingo with his big brain vicab to create atrocities of sentences

”bro the rise of the proletariat is lit tbh”

He is the worst to text with. He gives Bakugo aneurysms

Yeet yote to be yoted

3am shower thoughts

Unpopular opinion: i don’t think he likes weed. It probs reminds him too much of his whey mode

He’s a good strategist, but let’s the other team members think of the plans bc of insecurity, and otherwise his anxiety causes his smartness to shut down

Very good at zoning out. Sometimes he accidentally zones out so hard during class he misses the entire lesson and is only brought out bc of the school bell. Aizawa is best at snapping him out of it

Tbh I don’t think UA would be good with mental health. You’d think they’d hire a professional therapist or smth, but maybe it’s bc hero’s are so glorified ppl don’t ever think about these issues

I doubt the teachers had very good teacher training u know

We’ve mostly seen young heroes. I bet that’s bc they die so often, and if they don’t die in battle the mental health issues that stem from trauma and the media’s pressure are such an issue that it’s not uncommon for hero work to have high suicide rates

Anyway I’m starting to lose track of things thanks for coming to my ted talk I think I’ll stop here

#bnha denki #bnha kaminari #denki #denki headcanons #kaminari #mha #denki kaminari #kaminari stan #kaminari denki #kaminari analysis #accidently turned into analysis #not gonna lie #happy birthday kaminari

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mcl38 · 4 years

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reddit is going off at lando for that autosport interview and i'm just like... he made some really good points actually? like, he's not the most eloquent in getting to his point, i think, but he's right?

damn i really made a mistake deleting reddit:/ im not even joking i find it interesting / funny to see other ppl interpret smth in a completely different way from me regarding celebrities. i feel like he does make good points, bc he's very self aware in regards to his place in the world of f1 and the fans' perception of him, but he's not necessarily one to manipulate it. he's definitely not eloquent at all, and i was talking to someone abt how he may be one of the few drivers who hasn't really had any media training, and i think it's charming how bad he is at speaking bc actually he reveals a lot more about himself in the way he stumbles. is he right? he implies that even if the comments stem from the "bad, angry" side of him then that does not make them bad comments, just uncharacteristic of him. i think this is really funny because it's the tiniest, most subtle way of showing that actually he still stands by what he's said and he meant it all. he complains abt not being able to get away with being a bit of an asshole like kimi can, but again that's not veered towards self improvement or reassessing his own views at all, which is also quite funny (and also a bad standard to want to reach: i would definitely not like lando to adopt kimi's attitude in anything tyvm). i think if you had a problem w his comments on lewis and lance in the first place then this article can rub you the wrong way, but i didn't find them that bad in the first place bc, as i've said before, they really were not surprising to me at all

#anon #ask #lando #cheers for the reddit info lmao #thank you kind sir (of indeterminate gender) for the karma

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rileybraxton · 4 years

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Name: Riley Braxton Nickname: Brax Age: 34 FC: Paul Wesley Occupation: Tattooist at Scorpion Studios Side: Wicked Wolves Length of stay in Charming: approx. 14 years Positive traits: + loyal, + crafty, + brave Negative traits: - damaged, - suspicious, - hotheaded

triggers: parental adultery. drug abuse. addiction. crime. needles.

✚ middle child ✚ due to his mother having an affair ( for years ) he and his elder brother share different fathers. however, he and his younger brother share the same father ( the guy mamma cheated with ) ✚ he was always a reckless child. it only worsened when he hit his teens and fell in with bad crowds ✚ staying out, doing disappearing acts or coming home drunk, if not drugged up too ✚ to be honest, his entire attitude stunk. he showed little to no respect for his parents, or older brother who he considered a bit of an uptight snoot ✚ if he’s honest, the only person he wasn’t a total asshole to was his younger brother ✚ he was 16 when he came home and caught his mother in bed with another man. not just any man, but his fathers best friend. the truth was exposed, it turned out that the affair had been going on for years ✚ his mother begged him not to tell and promised to end it and he agreed. asshole so he was, he didn’t want to be the reason his father crumbled and his brother ended up with a broken home ✚ his motive may have started out purely but over the months, his bitterness? it only festered. his behaviour worsened, the disrespect began to have an impact on his parents relationship. the father just couldn’t seem to understand why his wife was seemingly letting him get away with everything he was doing ✚ he’d ask her for money which he only went out and spend on drugs. small things at first, a pill here, a spliff there. somewhere along the way he managed to get hooked on heroin, though amazingly he did manage to hide his needle poked arms ✚ it was amidst a drugged up haze that he felt some kind of penny drop. he was sat on the rooftop, watching his parents, his brother and his fathers best friend when he noticed something he hadn’t before ✚ the similarities between his man and his brother, between this man and him. the more he sat and stared, the more he couldn’t see a trace of his “father” in his own features, nor his younger brothers ✚ all it took was one out-loud thought and his mother confirmed everything with the simple look on her face. it was a lot to process, too much in-fact. which is what lead to an explosive dinner that same evening ✚ his “father” was laying into him, which wasn’t unusual. shaming him for being such a fuck up. usually he’d sit silently and take it, but this time? the words came flying out his mouth before he could think to stop them “who the fuck are you to talk to me like that? you’re not even my father. ain’t that right, mom?” ✚ the truth came out in a hateful splurge. everything from how the affair had been going on at least 17 years, straight to “oh, and the guy? sitting right next to you” aka, the best friend ✚ so, his not so biological father ended up focusing that betrayal back onto riley, which resulted in the pair of them going toe to toe, breaking everything in sight as they threw their punches ✚ being a little shit, he was fully egging him on, “come on. that’s right. hit me. your wife’s a whore and you’re laying into me? makes perfect fucking sense” ✚ it wasn’t until he managed to get him on the floor that he noticed his little brother on the staircase, pausing the punch he was about to land on his fathers face. a simple “shit” under his breath ✚ he got up instantly, all that rage on his face disappeared and replaced with a soft warmth that he reserved only for his brother. he left to take him back up to bed, leaving his parents and the not so decent best friend to fight it out between themselves ✚ in the end it turns out they decided to stay together and try and work through it, but it only served to create a toxic environment ( more so ) ✚ riley was 20 and fully hooked on drugs when he got himself arrested for grand theft auto and it was the icing on the cake for both parents ✚ they didn’t exactly kick him out, but they made it clear he wasn’t welcome unless he cleaned his act up ✚ surprisingly, he did try, but only after he packed up and moved in with a friend. he went cold turkey and yes, that shit fucking sucked. it was basic agony for at least three weeks before he began to feel like he was getting better ✚ rather than return home, he did perhaps one of the shittiest things a person could do & he stole his mothers jewellery that were basically family air-looms, pawned them for a few grand, bought a car and hit the road ( not before saying goodbye to his little bro and promising him he would call and visit all the time. ) ✚ in truth, he wanted to take him, but he knew it was selfish, especially when he didn’t even have a secure home ✚ he ended up in charming, fresh faced and sober. he stayed in a motel for a few months, saving money from odd jobs and focusing his energy on building a life for himself ✚ he’d always been creative, drawing & sketching came so naturally to him that he decided to train up and become a qualified tattoo artist ✚ at 22, he finally got his own place to rent and things were looking up. he’d passed his courses with flying colours, made a couple friends and even met a girl who he fell head over heels for ✚ the only trouble was, this girl was just as reckless as he was and their entire relationship was something like a beautiful tragedy. they’d party most nights and for the first few months, everything was fine. he managed to say no every time she’d offer him a pill, every time her friends offered something stronger. truth be told, he’s not sure exactly when he slipped up, or even why. but he did, and there he was once again sticking needles in his arms and wasting away. ✚ he ended up breaking up with his girlfriend and she hit the road with a couple pals not long after - he’s never seen her since ✚ he did a good job at hiding his problem, still managing to hold down his bar jobs to pay his rent, at least for a few months. everything changed when his 14 year old brother showed up on his doorstep with all his bags ✚ once again, he forced himself to go cold turkey. if his brother insisted on living with him, riley didn’t want him to watch him destroy himself. so really, he’s quite thankful that his brother showed up when he did, who knows, it probably saved his life ✚ back on track and finally in a good place, he fell in with the wolves and quickly realised that’s exactly where he needed to be ✚ some may say it’s tempting fate, running drugs considering he’s an addict, but he vowed the day they accepted him into their fold that he’d never make them regret it ✚ fyi, he hasn’t. whilst he has fell off the wagon twice since, he never did the wolves dirty. anything he took, he paid for, any job they gave him, he completed ✚ he probably drinks more than he should and he still enjoys a spliff, but he’s never touched any other drug in 3 years and to be honest, he’s very proud of himself ✚ he got a secure job at scorpion tattoo studios 2 years ago & he really enjoys it ✚ sooo, he’s clean, he has a job, a home, a family in the form of wicked wolves and a good set of friends. life is pretty sweet ✚ that’s not to say he’s not still very hot headed & impulsive. probably quite fuckin’ damaged too, but hey, all the best people are ✚ thanks for reading my novel

wanted connections:

✚ younger brother - CLOSED ✚ oldest brother(who’s probably a cop or smth straight shooting) - OPEN ✚ friends - OPEN ✚ old/new enemies - OPEN ✚ friends with benefits - OPEN ✚ the original ex girlfriend mentioned above - OPEN ✚ maybe a repeat client who lets him tattoo him/her with his own designs? - OPEN ✚ someone who knows he’s a recovering addict maybe? since i imagine he doesn’t typically share that info, it could be someone who’s seen him attend a meeting, or is even a recovering addict themselves - OPEN ✚ literally anything!

#charming.intro #about #tw drugs #tw crime #tw adultery #tw addiction

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mistymark · 5 years

Text

nct dream x hogwarts

nct dream as hogwarts students // 2.3k words // masterlist // send requests here

r e n j u n

the only slytherin in the gang

probably muggle-born but also top of most of his classes

what can he say hes amazed by this shit

really good at theory-based subjects especially

history of magic is his bitch lets be real

sketches in his books and stuff

says he likes sketching with quills the most because theyre more aesthetic

donghyuck says its because hes pretentious

but the whole group pitched in to get him some really nice canvases and paints and other tools

one of his paintings is hanging in the school somewhere, and the little girl in it smiles and greets all the students as they walk past

somehow she always tries to spit on people who had been annoying him recently - and them only

sometimes she spits on Donghyuck for no reason

jeno laughs and says its because she has a crush on him

uses magic for the dumbest things just because he can

he mastered the wingardium leviosa spell within a week because he couldn't be bothered getting up to get things

when he gets close to graduation, hes pretty much practicing simple wandless magic

once freaked out the first years because jaemin charmed a storm cloud to hang around him for an entire day

it flashed lightning when he got particularly annoyed, which was a lot because that cloud was annoying as shit

has a really old owl that literally looks evil but has called it something like “snuggles”

laughs when he unintentionally swoops too low and skims other students’ heads on mail day

buys all his friends gifts during the holidays and comes back with bags filled with fun shit

pretends he never buys gifts for chenle and jisung

always ends up giving them more

cause hes soft like that

but he headlocks them after to show his dominance

has a habit of throwing his cases in the general direction of the dorm when he comes back from holidays and accidentally hitting other students

plays quidditch in his free time

debates strategies with Jeno during their free periods

gets called a traitor by his own captain

couldnt really give a shit about his own team, he prefers to support his friends

wears his school uniform properly and is the only one in the group who does so

j e n o

a Gryffindor

probably quidditch captain

and dubbed the best player on the team

super humble about it too

always commends his team for doing their best when they lose and every member loves him a lot

the captain that's always saying stuff like “it doesn't matter how this game ends... as long as we try our hardest and play as a team”

the entire team rolls their eyes at his cheesiness but the lack of pressure keeps them at ease

and majority of the time they play really well

though its clear his focus is on quidditch, he still does really well in his classes

cant cook but is somehow rlly good at potions??

likes all the really tiny creatures in care of magical creatures

and they like him too

has a slightly damaged snitch that he carries around with him at all times

one of the wings broke during his first ever game of quidditch and he never got rid of it

he keeps it in the pocket of his robes and fiddles with it when he's anxious about something

has a really good poker face when he's stressed and you'd never know until you hear the soft clicking of his hand playing with it in his pocket while he studies

has a terrible poker face when something confuses him though

during class its so obvious when he doesnt get something

renjun once charmed question marks to hang around his head and everyone in the class died laughing

even jeno

overall great sense of humour

he brought a cat

of course

and its always getting him into trouble for wandering into the off-limits areas of the castle or into the restricted section of the library

once jaemin joked that the cat was actually an animagus that was purposely trying to get him in trouble

and jeno was spooked for like a week

wouldn't let the cat sleep on his bed and almost had a heart attack when he saw it wandering the halls between classes

but there was nothing wrong with the cat

shes just a curious girl

had a major glow-up between 6th and 7th year and everyone fell in love with him lmao

like everyone knew he was fit from quidditch but they didnt know he was that fit you know

heartthrob

d o n g h y u c k

an annoying brat

at least when he first arrived at Hogwarts in first year

has really good intentions though

everyone thought he would get sorted into Slytherin

like the second he stepped on the train and found his way into mark lee’s compartment everyone was like this kid has GOT to be a Slytherin

but no! hufflepuff

true fullsun

used to be a beater on the quidditch team but he was forced to quit until he got his grades up

but he ended up commentating because he couldnt play

and who can actually talk that fast other than the lee donghyuck

and actually found that he enjoyed that more

so even when his grades were t h r i v i n g

he stayed as a commentator

absolutely hilarious and everyone loves him for it

is Not afraid to call out foul plays

mutters quick apologies to the professors when they scold him but does it again later anyway

tbh is actually really popular

known for being dared to stand on the Slytherin table and sing at the top of his lungs

and actually doing it

he got two weeks detention

“worth it” - donghyuck, circa. 2019

has a talent for defence against the dark arts

acts like the smartest person in the room during that class

hes lowkey right tho

(don't tell him)

wears his tie way too loose and constantly gets told off about it

promises professors he’ll fix it then walks away and just,,, doesnt

his Hufflepuff scarf hangs off his bed frame back home

had a toad for his first few years of hogwarts but the toad ended up passing away so now he has a really troublesome owl

the owl itself is a good boy, flies fast and efficiently, but has a nasty habit of pecking donghyuck when hes hungry

“but hes hungry all the time” he whines when jaemin explains the bird’s just hungry. meanwhile, jaemin’s owl is sitting softly beside him, her eyes closed as he pets her

every first day back from holidays hyuck has red lines on his hands, arms and ears from the owl

chenle says its for giving the poor bastard a terrible name

donghyuck never actually refers to his owl by his proper name, always things like “bastard” and “dipshit”

theres a conspiracy theory about the owl’s real name and no one in their group will spill the secret

complains that the animals in care of magical creatures like him more than his own pet

“lol tru” - Chenle

j a e m i n

ravenclaw’s biggest flirt and most popular student

probably didnt even want to run for house captain but still got the position

theres a rumour that he was offered head boy but he turned it down

was the first one to find the kitchens and claimed it as the unofficial hang out spot for their group

if you’re ever missing jaemin, he’s probably in the kitchens chatting up the elves and stealing food every now and then

carries snacks with him everywhere for when he needs to comfort one of his babies house members

literally all the younger year levels feel so comfortable coming to him with their problems

has no issue with staying up in the common room to talk through things with someone

is known to walk people to their classes and then bolt to his own classrooms so hes not late

50% of the school is already in love with him

he was given the angel reputation back in first year and it hasn't let him down

is kind of a troublemaker tho

teases his classmates and even some professors that he has a good relationship with

really really loves transfiguration

probably wants to become an animagus

also wants to be an auror

absolutely loves defence of the dark arts

his owl is white and regal

like genuinely beautiful

she always looks like shes happy to see you

just like her owner uwu

he named her something sweet and meaningful

when Renjuns owl isnt able to fly, jaemin’s owl is eager to take Renjuns mail back to his family for him

wears his jumper all year round

its a good look though,, no ones complaining

was on the quidditch team up until his final year

he dropped it to focus on his studies and also being house captain

it takes him forever to go anywhere because he stops to talk to everyone

somehow knows everyone in school

even the third years in other houses??

runs errands for teachers with a smile

offers to buy food when the group goes out

c h e n l e

another muggleborn

but fits in so well

like the boy is just a natural at magic

unfortunately it doesnt always transfer into his grades

he has such a great interest in everything,,, just not on what hes learning

learnt fourth year history of magic in his first year but still almost failed his exam at the end of year

also hes the best other hufflepuff in the group

didnt understand quidditch for at least a year

ended up in the team in second year and is actually really good

probably the goalie

has the loudest laugh in school

the older professors claim they can hear him from the other side of the castle

somehow gets his hands on all the coolest magic stuff

has the marauders map no doubt

bought himself an invisibility cloak to mess with his friends

makes his professors laugh a lot

fist bumps everyone in school istg

like chenle w h y

really good at muggle studies too

made sure to select it as a subject the entire time he was at hogwarts as a slack class

doesnt really study and then feels threatened when someone gets a mark close to his

studies his butt off for the next test to maintain his status as top rank

definitely had a rat first year because he thought they were cool

and also because he knows rats can be pets like ??? wyd with owls you guys ??? shouldn't they be out in the wild or smth??

was super depressed when he found out how short the lifespans of rats were

ended up having to buy an owl in third year because rip nugget 2k15 :((

his owl is Small

thought it would be funny to call it renjun

but then renjun wouldnt talk to him for almost a week

visits the owlery at least once a week during his free periods to check on his owl

collects his thoughts up there

also rlly likes feeding the owls

sometimes steals Jeno’s cat

catch him in his dorm studying on his bed with Jeno’s cat sleeping in his lap

chenle claims its because the cats like the warm greenhouse vibe the Hufflepuff dorm has going on

but the real reason he bribed the cat into loving him when he first met it

probably was the one to lead the cat to the off-limits areas of the castle

j i s u n g

Gryffindors best seeker to date

kinda shy but is rlly admired by everyone

likes to piss jeno off by missing practice every two practices to study

but low-key hes so good he doesnt really have to go at all

doesnt want a career in quidditch but is constantly reminded he could have one if he wanted it

easily the most popular boy in his year

got asked out a few times this year and awkwardly rejected them all in the nicest way possible

he has a cat thats just as long and skinny as he is

jeno likes to call it sungie and it now responds to that name

enjoys care of magical creatures but very hesitant towards the creatures

but because of his care and precaution, the animals all really love him lmao

gets really soft around them now

seriously oblivious to his admirers tho

chenle once said if the triwizard tournament was to be brought back jisung would be the one to be chosen

has lived in fear ever since

okay jokes

boy could totally win

the only one in the group who has attempted and can successfully perform wordless magic

he knows way too many jinxes and charms off the top of his head that he can easily jinx you without even uttering a word

once was studying in the great hall when one of his friends teased him about rejecting someone and without looking up from his book he just lifted his wand and waved it, jinxing the apple in his friend’s hand to bite him

got detention but honestly the professor was so pleased with his progress it was only a one hour session

has a lot of sass

evidently

never Fully awake at breakfast

always looks really good in the evenings tho

he comes down to breakfast with his tie half undone and the top button of his shirt open

undoes the top buttons when he’s stressed too

professors love having him as a student

especially because they know he hangs out with jaemin

but the fact that he was in renjun and Donghyuck and Chenle’s group was enough for them to be wary

but hes the perfect blend of fun and focused in lessons

likes studying outside in summer

enjoys walking around school grounds during the holidays

391 notes · View notes

uncomfortable-writers · 5 years

Text

Lovebirds (Pietro x Reader)

(Gif credit to owner)

Fandom: Marvel

Character: Pietro Maximoff

Persona: Female

Word Count: 2,077

Request: i love love love your blog and was thinking if you could write a fanfic with pietro maximoff where reader and him are best friends (secretly in love with each other) and tony (who is reader's legal guardian bc she moved away from home to be avenger's computer engineer & has been training with them) teams up with others in teasing you two to finally fess up & team calls them smth like "slavic lovebirds" since reader is also from some slavic/balkan country? and talks a lot in her native language?

A/N - <3

♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　

Begrudgingly, you stalked your way towards Tony’s lab. The cup of coffee in your hand growing colder by the second mirrored the ever souring expression on your face. You were not a morning person, not in the slightest. Raising your ID pass to the scanner the door opened with a click, “Good morning (Y/N)”, FRIDAY greeted cheerily, you grunted in response.

“Ah! (Y/N), just the person I need!”, Tony’s voice hollered loudly, he turned to face you and a lopsided grin formed on his face, “Someone got out of the wrong side of bed today”. Your frown deeped, “Заткнись“ (Shut up), with a sharp retort you took a swig of the lukewarm beverage. Tony stopped his tinkering momentarily to raise a bushy eyebrow at you, “Come again?”, he asked, spanner pointing accusingly at you. You couldn’t help but to smile at your mentor, “I said, what can I help you with?”. Half a smile pulled at his lips, “Huh..right. Can you take a look at this please?”.

You were quietly helping Tony, listening to his instructions carefully and following them still stuck in your bad mood although it wasn’t all doom and gloom.

It was fast approaching your first year of studying under the Iron Man himself. Being handpicked for an internship at Stark Industries was a dream come true for you but the end of the world for your family. Your mother and father continuously refused the applications sent through the post even going as far as to change the P.O box; it seemed nothing could sway their minds to allow their precious, (and only), daughter to leave the nest. That was until Tony Stark showed up on your doorstep. Your parents were unable to resist his charming ways, he had an answer to every question they’d asked. They had one last thing to ask. Tony had to become your legal guardian in order for you to move into the Avengers Compound and Tony agreed in a heartbeat, already feeling proud from the potential you’d shown in the tests leading up to the internship. Afterall there was no safer place in the galaxy than with the world’s only team of superheroes.

“Earth to (Y/N)”, Tony clicked his fingers in front of your face, “Something the matter kiddo?”. The recollection of events was disrupted, you answered with a sharp hum, “Just tired”. Your fingers tapped flawlessly away at the laptop placed on the workbench as you carefully documented Tony’s work. His brown eyes glanced up at you as he toyed with the machinery, “Are you sleeping okay?”, a brief expression of worry on his face, “Do you think you need to see a doctor? I can get Bruce to come give you a checkup?”. You half smiled at the Avenger, “Just tired”, you emphasised before working away in silence. Tony nodded in sympathy, knowing all too well the feeling.

The lesson passed with few comments from both parties as Tony opted to let you work in peace.

Suddenly the door opened to reveal no one. The papers scattered around the lab rustled as a precise wind flew past the desks, coming to a stop at your side. “Hey (Y/N)”, the accented voice drifted through the workspace, it belonged to the silver-haired Sokovian who you’d grown so fondly of these past months. In an instant your mood picked up.

“Hey Pietro!”, a wide, toothy grin settled on your face as you stopped your work to look up at the taller man, he was already smiling down at you, “How are you?”, Quicksilver asked politely. “I’m pretty good actually, how’re you?”. Pietro opened his mouth but he never got the words out to finish his sentence. A smirk pulled at the corner of Tony’s lips which he tried hard to bite back, “Well someone’s perked up, thought you were tired?”, his eyes darted between the two of you as he stopped his work to watch the scene unfold. A ghost of a blush painted the apples of your cheeks, smiling sheepishly at your mentor you replied, “Yeah I was but that was hours ago”.

Sassily, Tony placed his hands on his hips, “It was literally ten minutes ago (Y/N)”, he didn’t give you a chance to respond as his attention was then directed to Pietro, “And you. Why’re you interrupting our lesson?”. Now it was Pietro’s turn to be coy, “I came to bring (Y/N) a cup of coffee”. Tony looked at Pietro then to his hands and then to the desk, “I don’t see one”.

You wouldn’t of been able to tell that Pietro had dashed off had it not been for the slight movement of your hair, the rustle of papers and the fact that he now had in his hands your favourite mug, “Sorry I forgot it”. You beamed up at Pietro, eagerly you took the warm cup, “Thank you”. “Any time”, he grinned back. It was almost like Tony wasn’t there for you were both staring into each other’s eyes and smiling like crazy. “Alright alright”, Tony stated tapping his fingers against the workbench, “Stop flirting. You brought (Y/N) her coffee now dash off, we’ve got a lesson to continue”.

In a flash both your face and Pietro’s turned such a shade of red that it matched the colour of Tony’s Iron Man suit. “Yeah, yeah Stark”, Pietro rolled his eyes coolly as he tried to play off his embarrassment. Meanwhile you reluctantly returned to your laptop to hide your fluster. Slowly, but surely, Pietro made his way towards the exit, all without using his powers, “So, catch ya later for movie night?”, Pietro called, hope evident on his face. You nodded eagerly, “See ya at seven!”.

Pietro left the room and it fell into silence again until Tony couldn’t resist making a quip, “Ah so that’s why you’re so tired”.

//////////\\\\\\\\\\\

You were humming in the kitchen, wiggling your hips to the tune in your head. Your mood really improved once Pietro reminded you of movie night. It was like a shared ritual which happened whenever Pietro had free time, it wasn’t easy being an Avenger. Gathering snacks was an equally important part of said ritual almost as important as the film you were watching, (Pietro mostly let you stick on whatever you wanted without much protest, mostly).

Being so caught up in your happy state you didn’t hear Pietro enter the kitchen; one of his many advantages of being able to move so fast.

He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his lips upturned in a smile as he watched you swaying about the kitchen. You were reaching up at the top shelf on the cupboard knowing it was where the silver-haired man kept his favourite snacks, but as he was at least a foot taller than you, it was impossible to get them without parkouring onto the side. Just as you were about to climb onto the counter he decided it was time to make an appearance.

“эй принцесса”,(Hey Princess) Pietro suddenly appeared next to you, looking just as dapper as ever, “нужна помощь?”, (Need a hand?). You rolled your eyes up at him frivolously, “Мне бы не понадобилась помощь, если бы кто-то не решил прятать вещи на верхней полкеь”, (I wouldn’t need help if someone hadn’t decided to of hide stuff on the top shelf). Pietro chuckled at your remark, “Last time I left things where people could reach Clint ate my entire emergency stash”, he recalled the memory with a faint frown on his face which soon ebbed away when his blue eyes focused on you again, “So do you want help or not?”. You couldn’t resist the cheeky grin which graced Pietro’s face, “I’m not grow anytime soon”, you smirked with a shrug of your shoulders. Quicksilver’s hands were played on your hips in less than a second, it was like they were perfectly sculpted to your figure. The warmth they gave off was delicious, you tried to ignore the feeling as he lifted you. You made quick work of gathering the snacks. They clanged loudly as they hit the side. Pietro lowered you to the floor where he kept one hand firmly on your hip, you didn’t mind as you leaned into his chest. It was like second nature.

Natasha observed the scene, a warm smile on her face.

“Don’t mind me interrupting”, she said softly, her steps even lighter as she crossed the doorway into the kitchen. You jumped away from Pietro like he had burnt you, “Дерьмо! Вы почти дали мне сердечный приступ“, (Shit! You almost gave me a heart attack), you clutched dramatically at your chest, trying to ignore the heat on your cheeks. “Будь немного громче в следующий раз“, (Be a little louder next time), Pietro chided wanting nothing more than to pull you back into his chest. Natasha grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, her teasing expression never fading, “Sorry for interrupting”. You quickly stuttered a reply, “T-There was n-nothing to interrupt”.

As she was leaving the room, she paused to look back at you two, “Не волнуйся, я не скажу Тони”, (Don’t worry, I won’t tell Tony). As soon as the words left her mouth, she was off.

Breathing in through his nose Pietro quickly recovered the mood, “Well grab the snacks and lets get going love”.

A few moments later and you were on the couch in front of the giant, flat screen T.V.. You’d just shoved in Cinderella. Pietro patted the empty space next to him as he held up the large fluffy blanket, he tilted his head as he waited expectantly. You waddled over and jumped into the space, practically leaching into his side as the movie started to play. His hand traced patterns into your thigh as you placed your head on his chest, “Удобная принцесса?”, (Comfortable Princess?). “Конечно”, (Of course). Happy with your answer, he rested his head on top of yours.

You and Quicksilver were too engrossed in each other’s company, the movie to realise that you had company.

“They’re cute aren’t they”, Tony watched fondly content that his adoptive daughter was happy. Natasha gave him the side eye, “They really are, but isn’t it a little weird to be spying on them?”. Tony smirked at her, “Not spying, just passing by”.

Pietro was finally building up the nerve to confess something, he hadn’t been focusing on the film just on the fact that in this moment everything felt right. He coughed awkwardly to grab you attention, “Hmm?”, you pushed off of his chest so you were face to face with him. “I’ve just been thinking y’know”, Pietro seemed to look everywhere but at you. “You? Thinking? That’s dangerous”, you teased, unable to keep the giggle spilling from your lips as his face screwed up. “I like you (Y/N)”, his voice was a mere whisper. You’re heart sped up but you tried to dismiss it as Pietro just showing his affection, “I like you too”. He sighed and moved his hand from your thigh to cover your own, “Нет, я имею в виду, ты мне нравишься больше, чем друг”, (No I mean I like you more than a friend). Your eyebrows raised to your hairline. Never in a million years did you imagine Pietro would like you in the same way too, “ты мне тоже нравишься”, (I like you too).

“What do you think they’re talking about?”, Tony quietly asked Nat. Now it was her turn to smirk at the billionaire, “You don’t wanna know”. This caught Tony’s attention, “Um excuse me what do you mean?”. Natasha just nodded at the couch, where Pietro was leaning in, both of your lips puckered.

“There will be absolutely no making out sessions on my favourite couch”, Tony whined suddenly making his presence known. For the second time today you jumped apart, “Aww come on Tony, did you have to ruin the moment?”, you moaned burying your face into Pietro’s chest. “What else was I supposed to do? Let you go full on washing machine mode while you’re sat in my favourite spot? I don’t think so”, Tony goaded, “FRIDAY’s gonna keep an eye out, she catches anymore funny business and its bedtime for the both of you”. Natasha entered the room before you or Pietro could respond, she wrapped a tiny hand around Tony’s arm and started to pull him away from the door, “C’mon Tony leave the Slavic lovebirds alone”.

#marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff fanfic #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #reader insert #female reader #reader x pietro #reader x pietro maximoff #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver fanfic #uncomfortable writers #mcu #aaron taylor johnson

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bleedpure · 6 years

Text

mark lee vc: LEZ GEDDIT ! i’m al or ally, i’m nineteen, i’m in the cst timezone aka the midwest, so u know what that means ! it sucks ! i don’t even know how to transition out of that. i’m so bad at talking about myself, so i think we’re just gonna not do that....... we’ll talk about seulki instead, which i can assure u he’s 100% more interesting than i will ever be ! u can find his info under the cut and if u wanna plot hit that like button and i’ll come to u or u can hit me up on d*scord ( which i would love tbh bc it’s easier than tumblr ims ) @ the jonas brothers did that#7625. okay, onto the intro !

- ̗̀✰ • 【 LEE MINHO, CISMALE, HE/HIM 】 ❝ did you see KIM SEULKI on the train back to hogwarts? they’re a HALF-BREED (VAMPIRE) in their THIRD year as a TWENTY year old RAVENCLAW. apparently they’re the ENIGMA around the grounds; most likely because they give off an aura of DROPLETS OF CRIMSON LIQUID DRIPPING OFF PEARLY WHITE FANGS, FORM FITTING JEANS THAT HUG JUST THE RIGHT SPOTS, HEART SHAPED LIPS CURLING INTO A DEVILISH SMILE, THE FEELING OF A PIANO PLAYING EERILY IN THE ROOM NEXT DOOR. of all the social media platforms, they’re definitely most obsessed with their INSTAGRAM; probably because they’re ELOQUENT, but also MANIPULATIVE. however, on the new manifest app in mr. carlos’ english class, they’ve already managed to anonymously steal the username: BLOODLUST.

ALSO ! if u want a better look at him, u can check out his pinterest board here ( follow me too that’d be so sexy of u ) !

information.

i’m gonna just do this in bullet points bc i’m lazy and have had a really long week so if it’s choppy.... i am so sorry u are just gonna have to deal w it KMSKSMK

seulki was born in seoul, south korea to a kang insoo, a wizard man, and kim eunbin, a vampire woman, seulki himself being her first born

he doesn’t remember much of his own father, the only image he has of him is his bloodied corpse after his mother ripped his throat out when he was five years old

she was a cruel woman is what he had learned from that moment on

most half-breeds are misunderstood creatures, but the kim line of vampires were the monsters they told u abt in horror stories, the ones that hid under ur bed and took u from ur room in the depths of the night

being descendants of vlad the impaler, yes he really was a vampire!, had death and destruction lacing through their veins, darkness and deceit wrapping around their bodies

growing up, he watched his mother give birth to three more children, all of which were full fledged vampires, unlike himself

at first, he never let it bother him, he was raised up to be a vampire, to let the magic gene within him go dormant. he fed off humans and shed the blood of other’s with the influence of his mother, but even being her puppet was never enough for her

secretly, she had always resented her falling in love with a wizard, a human, someone that wasn’t of their own kind. because she did actually fall in love with him, only to be blindsided by her own family, a powerful clan of vampires pulling who she was and who she had always been out of her

because of the resentment matted in between her bones, the anger and frustration of her family ruining her life, of insoo ruining her life, she began to see the human traits within seulki even more often than not, creating a drift and a barrier between the two of them

seulki was the eldest brother, the one who took it upon himself to help raise them, to protect them, to never let their bright souls be diminished by the thought that they were monsters. they loved him and he loved them, but his mother didn’t like that

she didn’t like how they cared for each other because they cared for each other more than they cared for her. she was selfish, wanting the love she never was able to receive, wanted to feel smth for all that she didn’t

his mother hadn’t been fond of him for a while, only using him to do her bidding and while him and his siblings got closer and closer, she got angrier, knowing that they were each others’ heartbeats and she wasn’t included in that

so because of her selfish and deranged nature, she wanted to eliminate her younger children to cause torment to seulki. ganging up on the children one night with the intent to kill them, but she didn’t get as far as she wanted to

she severely injured her second oldest, giving a few scratches the the other’s before seulki came in, eyes black and charging towards his mother. it was a bloodbath after that, the two youngest pulling their sister to safety as they called for seulki

their cries and calls snapped him out of his loss of humanity and in front of him was his injured, but not dead mother unconscious. it was then that he took his chance, packing whatever he could that was valuable and fled with his siblings

they spent time spent a long time running, bouncing from city to city more bloodshed falling onto seulki’s hands to protect the only people he held dear to him and he would do anything for them.

he struggled a lot actually with maintaining his humanity as it would slip from time to time due to the trauma even if he had his siblings to tether him down. at some point, seulki, while strong, felt himself getting exhausted from being on the run and it was when they’d found themselves in scotland being found by hagrid of all people offering seulki a place at hogwarts and his siblings a place in his hut

at first, seulki declined, not fully trusting the man with his siblings even though he would be right in the castle near by. but, after some thought and the push of the second oldest, they accepted the offer and seulki’s been attending hogwarts since he was eighteen and his siblings have found a residence with hagrid

tidbits.

he ages like a normal human up until he’s twenty-one when he quits aging and begins the phase of immortality.

seulki can and will drink blood to survive, but if he goes without it it’s not detrimental to him until he quits aging altogether which means he can eat regular food, he actually quite enjoys it.

he has fangs, he can go out into sunlight, but not for an excessive amount of time or he’ll get a rash. seulki does have inhuman speed and strength, but nothing overpowering u know? when he loses his humanity, his eyes go full black and when the vampire takes him over, his eyes are red, and his regular eye color is brown.

losing his humanity means he loses his heartbeat, most of the time either due to losing the things or people that make his heart beat or from intense and severe anger or negative emotions such as the like. though, it can be voluntarily done as well by switching it off ( kind of like tvd . . . fucking disgusting ). but, seulki being only half-vampire has an easier time, unlike his siblings, to regain his heartbeat back and for his humanity to fluctuate when it’s lost because of his human side. his siblings are his heartbeats actually, so that’s where the intense need to protect them comes from as well as just being their brother.

seulki is a Big Bi ! loves it fucking all.

he’s not super great at magic since his magic gene was pretty dormant until he came to hogwarts, so he’s pretty much just skirting by at this point.

his siblings mean the world to him, he would do absolutely anything for them and wouldn’t let a single person harm a hair on their heads. but ! no one knows they exist, though i’m sure if there were special people in his life they might !

while he sleeps around a lot . . . he’s a secret romantic. he’s always wanted to find love, but it way too terrified of it.

oh yeah he has a blood kink............ that’s important ig

personality.

seulki is definitely an interesting person. he’s wise and intelligent, having been through a lot in his life. he’s eloquent and good with his words, most would call him honey-tongued because of how he can persuade almost anyone to do what he says. seulki is kind of a dick or well, like a suave dick. he’s charming and flirty, his signature is a smirk and like arms crossed as he leans against a doorway u know? seulki is uh. how do i put this? kind of a whore. he doesn’t tend to care about others which is deep rooted in the fact that he’s never felt real love . . . his own mother hated him to the core. he’s overprotective of the people he cares about and will do absolutely anything for them. he’s an ass if i didn’t mention that before, it’s to protect himself and his siblings from ever being hurt again because he’s so terrified of letting people in for them to just tear him down in the process. he’s guarded and u never know what he’s thinking because he doesn’t show it on his face or let u know. UH I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY MY BRAIN DOESN’T WORK............ he’s p manipulative............. uh he cares a lot. but deep down and he doesn’t want ppl to know that........... he’s definitely a Big Brother type when he cares abt u, makes sure u’ve eaten, makes sure ur warm and are comfortable....... yeah idk that’s it i’m done

wanted plots.

A HEARTBEAT ! — whether platonic or romantic, this would be someone who, just like seulki’s siblings, makes his heart beat thus keeping his humanity in check, they would be a WHOLE, WHOLE lot to him.

A TUTOR ! — as i mentioned earlier, seulki isn’t super well versed when it comes to magic, he’s not very good at it and it’s hard for him to navigate sometimes, so having someone to help him get his mf grades up would be lovely !

AN EX ! — obviously, this didn’t go down well because seulki is terrified of commitment and people getting close to him. it could play out in so many ways, so if it sparks ur interest we can chat !

A ROOMMATE ! — so which sucker is gonna have to live with the vampire who has a blood kink ?

A BEST FRIEND ! — obviously this is pretty self explanatory, this would be someone that seulki trusts with probably his life and they mean a lot to him, even if he’s bad at showing it.

LOVE/HATE ! — bruh give me that good shit. these two can’t stand each other, but because of that it’s formed some sort of fondness where if anyone is messing with the other they’re like who tf are u that’s my job !

A BAD INFLUENCE / GOOD INFLUENCE ! — self explantory . . . someone be a good influence for seulki and let him be a bad influence for someone else.

AN UNREQUITED CRUSH ! — my friend gave me the idea to maybe have someone have a cute little crush on seulki . . . and i was like but that’s SO sad........ then i was like u know what i love pain so here we are........ also could be requited we shall see !

FUCK BUDDIES, FRIENDS/ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS, FLINGS ! — i’m just getting lazy at this point to explain this shit . . . fuck him, let him fuck u he’s a true vers my friends.

OTHERS ! — cuddle buddy, old friends, confidant, rivals, skinny love, annoyances, a brother/sister type of relationship, and if there’s anything else we can just vibe ! tbh we don’t even have to do anything from this list, whatever fits the muses, these are just ideas !

#mhq:intros #°࿐ ✦ ༉ 𝓐. ooc ﹠ 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙠𝙪𝙨𝙝 .#huh. can't believe y'all have to read this...... i feel bad for u all #also i didn't proofread this so just go w it

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katsitting · 6 years

Note

Uhhhm hi can you pls write a tomarry drabble/one shot thingy where they try to keep each other warm while theres a storm outside or smth bc i just saw the textpost. Pls and thank you

It took me some time, but here you have it. You may find the fic posted here on AO3. I hope you enjoy my take on this trope. This is an 11k word fic ^^;.

Rating: M

Tags: Swearing, Violence, Uresolved Sexual Tension, Alternate Universe- Office, Workplace Harassment, Humor, Suggestiveness, and Tags Subject to Change.

“He’s staring again,” Ron whispered into Harry’s ear before stuffing a donut into his mouth, crumbs of sugar smearing on the corners of his upper lip. Harry grimaced, shifting his attention to the pretty red-headed server at the other end of the diner. “This marks the fifth time this week.”

A groan rumbled from Harry’s chest, appetite leaving him entirely now that Ron had pointed out that Riddle was, once again, sitting at the diner and staring at him.

Harry had been content with just ignoring it. He was more than aware of the fact that Riddle was there. It was difficult not to notice when he worked with the bloke, and Riddle had made it almost routine to head to the same diner Harry frequented after work. How the man knew Harry’s schedule was beyond him. After all, they had never spoken to one another outside of the office.

Ever.

Of course, they’d interacted one or twice at work, the niceties and all that rot were necessary as supervisors at the company. That, however, did not necessarily mean that they saw one another often—or had the opportunity to—in the first place. They ran in completely different circles.

Harry was head of an entirely different department at work while the creep ran another at the opposite end of the building. The creative department and accounting department hardly ever interacted.

Ron cast a glance behind Harry’s back, and Harry wanted to groan into his hands.

“Would you stop giving him attention? He’s going to notice that I’ve noticed. The last thing I need on my day off is for him to think that you looking at him is an invitation to sit down with us.”

This was supposed to be his time to sit back and relax after an awful week of dealing with executives and their stupid complaints. How those stuffy executives could complain about every single detail, particularly when Harry didn’t even deal with the sales of the products, was beyond him.

He just handled the graphic designers and the digital artists, not the math and figures. That was what accounting did. The creative department looked at viewers and their interests. They measured their receptiveness to a particular advertisement over another. They weren’t paid do the rest, and even if they offered to pay for such services, Harry refused to.

It would only give him another reason to leave the office.

Harry’s work wasn’t…exciting. It was a decent job while waiting for the processing at the police academy to go forward, but it would never be enjoyable. The company policies were absolute shite.

At least with the police department he would be doing something he liked while still dealing with the nonsense of the bureaucratic world.

He just needed to hold out for a little longer. He had met all the requirements, had done all of the physicals. All he needed to do was wait and then he could quit his job and dedicate himself to the force.

It killed him to wait, but it would be incredibly stupid to quit months before he’d even get approved. He needed to save as much money as he could before he was inevitably penniless for the next few years as a low-tier cop.

“I mean, you should just talk to him. It’s not like the bloke is going to bite your head off or something.” Ron said with his mouth full of donut, eyes still trained on Riddle even after Harry had asked him to stop giving the bastard attention.

“Ron, you don’t know Riddle. There’s just something off about him, you know? Don’t you ever get that feeling about someone—” Harry began, casting an exasperated glance at Ron when he didn’t immediately answer. “—like there’s more to a guy than what he lets on? He’s so…polite and charming at work. He’s practically got everyone wrapped around his finge—”

“Do I, Mr. Potter?”

Harry froze at the sound of a familiar, masculine drawl. Horror and recognition speared him, only just noticing that the reason Ron had stopped talking was not because he had shoved a whole donut into his mouth, but because Riddle had risen from his seat and had made his way over to where they were seated at the counter.

“I was not aware you had that kind of impression of me.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—

Harry swiveled around, almost toppling from his chair when the tip of his nose nearly collided with Tom’s chest.

Why was he so bloody close?

Harry pressed his side into the counter, uncomfortable with Riddle’s invasion of his personal space before leveling the man with an irritated glower. The fact that he looked ridiculous this way hardly registered to Harry.

“And you probably never would have had you minded your own bloody business.”

Shock spread over Riddle’s stupid handsome face, and sweet sweet vindication surged through Harry’s insides, a smirk stretching over his lips when Riddle did not immediately respond.

Good, it served him right.

“It’s a pity, then. Our company retreat at the end of this week will certainly be ripe with awkward tension.”

Harry’s smirk fell, shoulders tensing at Riddle’s mention of their forced retreat. He’d forgotten about it entirely. It was something the CEO of the company had been harping on for the past few months. Something about improving relationships between supervisors and executives, and all that rot.

It was absolute bullshite.

“Did it slip your mind? Oh, I understand if it did.”

Riddle’s expression twisted into one of pity, the glimmer in the man’s eyes far too bright for Harry to believe it was sincere.

Wanker.

“The holidays are right around the corner. I’m sure the executives are keeping you quite busy with the marketing.”

Harry slammed an open palm onto the counter, startling both Ron, who had yet to say a word since Riddle had graced them with his parasitic presence, and a couple sitting not too far behind Ron.

If looks could kill, Harry’s glare alone would have killed Tom fucking Riddle at least ten times. His pitying glance combined with the obvious heat to the man’s words had all but pushed Harry past his boiling point. There was only so much bullshite he could deal with in a single week, and Riddle’s was not the kind of bullshite he was being paid to handle.

“One more word, and I promise that after I’m through with you, no one in the office will ever call you handsome for the rest of your miserable life.”

Riddle blinked at him, the pitying expression slipping off his face like an oil slick. Then—

The man smiled.

All the blood in Harry’s veins froze at the sight, unable to comprehend what was happening before Riddle leaned down, pressing into his personal space until their noses were nearly touching.

“Kinky.”

It was one word. A simple, unobtrusive word.

But in that moment, it sounded anything but. Frankly, it was a word Harry knew from that moment forward would forever remain ingrained in his psyche until the end of his days. Harry didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to bloody do. He was flabbergasted, confused to his very core because Riddle’s voice had…changed. Sounded huskier and breathier, somehow.

Riddle’s smile widened, his eyes flashing with something Harry refused acknowledge, before Riddle pulled back and turned to leave.

Thank god.

“H-harry?” Ron whispered into Harry’s ear, but Harry wasn’t listening. His mouth was wide open with shock, an embarrassed heat coiling over his face that was definitely not a blush. It burned him from the inside out, his humiliation at being thrown by that word almost worse than the unmistakable heat in the man’s voice.

Don’t let it get to your head, Harry. It was him just fucking with you, is all.

“What happened just now?” Ron asked again, once Riddle pushed past the double doors of the exit.

Turning to Ron with the straightest face he could muster, Harry paused, unsure of how to even begin. He honestly didn’t know anymore than the Ron did, and he had been the one subject to Riddle’s unwanted attention.

“I—” Harry swallowed, unable to finish his response.

In the four years he’d been working at the company, this was the first time he shared more than five words with Riddle within a 24 hour period. And somehow, in the span of 15 minutes, Riddle had not only managed to get a rise out of him—something no one, except for his ex-boyfriend Draco had ever been able to accomplish—and embarrass him.

Pressing his hands into his eyes, careful to avoid crushing his glasses, Harry groaned aloud, casting Ron a tired look after he finished.

How he was going to survive the company retreat after this bloody spectacle was the million dollar question. If he’d nearly lost his patience after speaking to Riddle for 15 minutes, there was simply no telling what a weekend at some winter resort would do to his sanity.

“I don’t know, Ron. Your guess is as good as mine.”

To say that Harry was tired of this trip was the understatement of the century. Already, he was dreading the fact that he had to be stuffed in some cheap bus with Tom Riddle, the newest bane of his existence, for a whole fucking weekend. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this kind of treatment. Maybe, somehow, he’d pissed off the wrong deities while working as a supervisor and this entire trip was just a means for those aggrieved gods to acquire their retribution. Harry honestly wasn’t sure.

Either way, Harry was done with this day and it had only just started. An unsurprising fact considering Tom Riddle had decided to sit beside him on the bus. Harry was certain his angry expression had been obvious. He hadn’t been hiding his displeasure from the moment Tom Riddle entered the bus—fashionably late of course, but no one was going to ride his ass about that, now were they—and sauntered over in his direction.

Harry had made a calculated decision to sit in the back, knowing, of course, that Riddle being the straight-laced goody two shoes that he pretended to be, had always been one to sit in the front nearest to the conductor to ensure that nothing would go amiss. The supervisor for the accounting department of the firm was not required to do all that, but no one would dare say something to the contrary.

Tom Riddle had just about everyone wrapped around his bloody finger, and there was no telling just who might end up fired should they cross Riddle.

That was what had happened to the last intern that had come into the fray a few weeks back. They entered the accounting firm and simply never came back, disappearing into the ether to never be found again. Of course, no one thought it odd that the poor intern just hightailed it out of there, except for Harry, but nevertheless, that was how the company went.

Yet, somehow, in spite of Harry’s careful consideration of all these facts, Riddle still felt the need to follow him all the way to the back of the bus. The thought of flinging himself into oncoming traffic had crossed his mind once or twice since then.

“Hello, Harry.” Riddle purred next to his ear, his side pressing uncomfortably into Harry’s side. It was unsurprising that he of all people refused to abide by societal norms, such as personal space.

Personal space wasn’t a foreign fucking concept.

“It’s been too long. How are you?”

Harry grit his teeth, staring hard at the traffic moving away from the city. They were leaving his home, his place of sanity, and heading into an unknown small town in the middle of fucking nowhere at some “winter palace.” At least, that was how the brochure for the place had painted it, but Harry did not believe a word of it. It was a load of bullshite in his honest opinion. It was simply another way for his bosses up top to convince their over-caffeinated and exhausted employees to play nice and stick it out until they could find replacements that did their work with far more efficiency and less ambition.

“Are you looking forward to the trip? This might be your only time off after the holiday craze begins.”

Whipping around, Harry leveled Riddle with the most intense glare he could muster. He wanted Riddle to stop talking. Didn’t he understand that Harry wanted nothing to do with him? That after their fucking fiasco at the diner, Harry wanted to avoid him?

It was basically sexual harassment what had happened at the diner. He should have reported it to human resources instead of sucking it up and ignoring it, wanting to pretend that it never happened. But whatever, it was too late now. They were trapped on this bus with perhaps six other supervisors from the company that Harry hardly interacted with on a good day.

“I don’t know what gives you the impression that I want to talk to you, but I don’t. What you did at the diner was sexual harassment. Hell, you’ve been stalking me for bloody months now!”

Harry was breathing heavily by the end of his tirade, but Riddle was utterly unfazed. His eyes were taking him in from the wild curls atop his head, to the angry flush of his cheeks, and down to the collar of his thick coat.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a terrible temper, Harry? It’s quite unbecoming.”

What?

Harry blinked, disbelief draining all the anger he clutched into his chest.

Riddle was completely bent. An utter nutcase.

Harry had never felt more certain of this fact that in that moment, eyeing the thick green scarf wrapped around Tom’s throat, covering a portion of his mouth.

“Can’t you just leave me alone? Pretend I don’t exist? You’ve done a marvelous job of ignoring me at work functions, why stop now?” Harry asked, defeated. It wasn’t much to ask. He was going to leave his job anyway. It would be peaceful, a mercy in and of itself, for Riddle to let him go on with his business without incident.

But Riddle wasn’t a kind man. Clearly, Harry’s hunch about Riddle’s true personality had not been wrong, for in that moment, Riddle’s lips curved into a wicked smile. His eyes flashed with something downright cruel, and Harry’s stomach plummeted all the way to his ankles.

“Oh Harry, now what would be the fun in that?”

Sighing loudly, Harry turned his attention back to the window to watch the flurries of snow pass. There was no use answering that question. He’d be wasting his breath trying to convince Riddle to stop.

So, rather than argue with Riddle til his face turned blue, Harry instead watched the world pass through the window—the buildings growing smaller and smaller until there was nothing but countryside. An agricultural paradise that went on endlessly with only the occasional interruption of a car passing through, until those interruptions too, ceased.

If Riddle crowded closer to him on the bus, Harry didn’t say a word to acknowledge it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The words came unbidden, his genuine shock and frustration at what he was seeing impossible to hide.

The “winter palace” that the CEO had spent months harping about to his employees was no palace. It would be too generous of a statement to call it anything but a run down warehouse. When he saw it from his window, only several feet away from the driveway they turned into, Harry had hoped that this building would not be their stop.

But he had been wrong, resigned to his fate when the Greyhound bus stopped right at the iron entrance of the place.

“Clearly not.” Tom whispered into his ear, reminding Harry that Tom was sitting beside him and had, in fact, heard Harry’s curse. “It seems that our stay at the “Winter Palace” will not be a pleasant one.”

Harry pressed his face into his hands, wondering if it was too late to turn back. This was a literal shit-hole. The building looked like it hadn’t been renovated in at least twenty years. The iron gate they had driven through was rusted, the tell-tale red and brown patterning around the iron like the scales of a snake.

“Alright everyone.”

Harry was forced away from his thoughts, attention turning to one of the executives sitting at the front of the bus, who he vaguely knew as Mike. The man rose from his seat, his inky black hair and sallow skin gleaming unnaturally beneath the dim light trickling through the bus windows.

Here comes the bad news.

“We’ve divided you all into pairs. The rooms can only fit two at a time. We understand that you were all under the impression of sleeping in your own rooms, but autumn season was not a kind one to the company.”

Harry huffed, miffed that they would use such an excuse on them. They weren’t ignorant, lower-tier employees that didn’t know just how these things went. To say that the executives had planned to provide them with their own accomodations was a lie and a terrible one at that. They never intended to in the first place. Why would their boss bother to give them a wonderful room when he could be spending the company money as he saw fit? On other things that were of little to no importance to anyone but himself?

“Please try not to switch rooms. Management has made it clear that all parties staying in their hotel must remain in their rooms. It was this agreement that allowed us to receive the lower rates that we did.”

A snort nearly escaped him. Of course, Harry thought. It was all about the cheaper rates with these arseholes.

“If you have any issues or concerns with your accommodations, please notify the front desk. This trip is non-refundable, so unless you have good reason for needing to leave early, we will deduct the difference from your salary.”

Great.

There was no escaping this place. There was no way in hell he would pay for this disaster of a hotel. He’d sooner ask Riddle over for tea and biscuits before letting them take a cut of his salary.

“You look quite upset, Harry.”

Grinding the crown of his teeth, Harry turned his attention back to Riddle. He’d nearly forgotten the man was there, caught up with his own thoughts and frustrations concerning this stupid company. It shouldn’t have surprised him that they’d pull this kind of stunt after all the bullshite they’d flung in their general direction for years, but still. This was no reward for their hard work at the company, and certainly no gift, if the stakes of leaving before their stay was anything to go by.

It was punishment.

“As I should be. This place looks like a bloody death trap.” Harry hissed, his expression going sour when Riddle smiled, all teeth. It made every single hair on the back of Harry’s neck stand on end, the unsettling whisper of danger lurking in that face enough to make him press closer to the window and away from Tom. “Look at it. There’s cobwebs on the bloody windows and the front porch has uneven floorboards and chipped paint.”

Tom turned away from Harry to regard the hotel with a thoughtful expression, leaning further into Harry’s space. Harry tried not to let his impatience show when Tom took his sweet time to look at it, as if this were some kind of expensive art piece at a famous art gallery rather than some shite motel.

It was only after Harry began to shake his leg that Tom stopped and turned his attention back to him.

Then, just as Tom was about to speak, Harry’s attention was forced away from the dread of staying in this crappy place and his irritation with his bizarre co-worker.

“Alright then. We took the liberty of pairing you all off—” the man paused at the loud groans and complaints that erupted at that. Harry only pinched the bridge of his nose. “—it was not my idea. This was something the head personally cooked up. Don’t give me that look, John.”

Harry glanced at Mike, then followed his gaze to the supervisor he’d mentioned by name. He was tempted to flash him a smile and give him a thumbs up for expressing what everyone certainly felt at that moment. To be paired off with people from the company they did not even know was a pain in the arse. What if Harry hated them? What if they snored?

With his sleeping habits, he doubted he could sleep a solid night if his roommate was loud.

“Anyway,” Mike continued, ignoring the collective murmurs of displeasure from everyone on the bus. “I will call out the names of those that will be rooming together. So please, once you’ve been called, it’d be great if you would head to your rooms. Check-in is in about fifteen minutes and they have a strict check-in policy.

Of course they did, Harry thought, his mouth pursing into a thin line. They picked a fucking shitehole that hasn’t seen a customer in possibly years.

They’d tack on as many conditions to their stay as they could, if it could justify them keeping their security deposit and charging added fees.

“Robert Smith, you’re with Frederick Wilton.”

Harry didn’t recognize the names, and promptly after watching a portly, dark haired man storm out of the bus with a scowl on his face, Harry wondered if the partnership was a terrible one.

“It would be amusing if we ended up sharing the same suite.”

Harry jumped, smacking his leg against the bottom of the seat in front of him. Riddle had whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell. It had been too close, and Harry rounded on him in seconds, uncaring that he was nearly at his wits end and going to leave with a massive bruise on his shin.

“No,” Harry said vehemently, nostrils flaring. “It would be an absolute nightmare to be put in the same room as you. You have no fucking respect for personal space.”

Tom smiled at him, eyes twinkling with a mirth that had no business being on his stupid face. They were not friends, and would never be. The man was a creep, and it would be a crime against all of humanity—but most of all, a personal attack against Harry—to be put in the same room.

Lord knows, Tom might fucking watch him as he slept.

A shudder crawled up Harry’s spine at the thought.

“Harry, I hope you are aware that our transportation is rather small. I cannot help that I am a large man that takes up quite a bit of space.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Sure, the Greyhound bus wasn’t large by any means, but that did not excuse Riddle leaning into him and whispering inane things into his ear throughout the entire ride. It had been suffocating to have him breathing his same air, his hot breath and voice brushing along the shell of his ear whenever the bus so much as rocked—

“Yeah, but do you have to whisper into my bloody ear? It’s unnecessary. You could tell me all about the crap that crosses your mind without your mouth getting anywhere near me—”

“Is there something wrong with my mouth being near yours, Harry? My, that’s quite an inappropriate thought to have of a fellow employee.”

Sputtering, Harry tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t end with him punching Riddle in the face. When he couldn’t, Harry opted to level Riddle with a glare and say—

“Yes, there is something very wrong with it. It is precisely because you are my co-worker that I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

Tom leaned back into his seat, hand cupping his chin, his stupid smile still stretched along his lips. “And yet here you are. You simply could have moved to another seat if you were so offended by my presence.”

Harry blinked, frowning when he realized that Tom was right. He could have moved. Nothing was stopping him from leaving—there had still been space when he’d sat in the back in the hope that Tom would not follow.

Still, that didn’t answer the question of whether Tom would have let him leave in the first place. The man could have followed him to another seat and annoyed him there. Or worse, if Harry had sat beside someone else, have pulled his weight as one of the favorites at the office and gotten the poor bastard to move and let him slide in beside Harry.

Had Harry really had a choice? No, Harry thought with conviction, absolutely not.

“Oh, that’s rich. As if you wouldn’t follow me wherever I decided to sit. You were always following me to that diner, so how was I supposed to know you wouldn’t follow me to another bloody seat?” Harry demanded, watching how Tom’s shoulders tensed before smoothing out.

Victory surged inside him, a vicious smile stretching over his lips. Good, Tom should be annoyed.

However, rather than reacting as Harry had expected, Tom began to laugh. Harry was flabbergasted.

It was a deep and throaty sound, one that Harry had never heard before. An angry blush spread through his cheeks, irritation blooming inside him like the burn of an ulcer when Riddle didn’t stop for a solid minute.

Bastard.

The chatter of the other people on the bus was lost to the cacophony. Even Mike’s annoying voice calling out names had dissipated into nothing, the sound of his blood rushing to his ears and Riddle’s laughter too difficult to ignore.

Then, it abruptly stopped. Riddle’s expression sobered, and Harry’s breath hitched when Riddle pressed forward until their noses were touching, faces so close that Harry could count each individual lash framing his eyelids.

He tried to rear back, but there was nowhere to go. He had chosen the window seat, and was already pressed as far back as he could to the glass and the uncomfortable polyester chair he was sitting on.

“You’re right—” Riddle said, voice dropping to a low murmur that Harry strained to hear even with how close they sat. “—where else am I going to get my entertainment if not at your side?”

Harry froze at the flash of something predatory in Riddle’s eyes, like the kind of look Harry had seen Ron give his mother’s home-cooked meals after he’d spent months surviving off his own cooking. Throat suddenly dry, Harry tried not to shrink into himself when Riddle’s mouth parted and a hot breath fanned against his lips.

He didn’t want to think about what that meant, about the implications in the man’s words and the way he looked at him—

“Harry Potter.”

At the sound of his own name, the strange tension between them dissipated. Riddle pulled away from him in an instant, granting Harry the space to breathe and turn his attention back to Mike. The man looked just as exhausted as Harry felt.

The bus was nearly empty save for the two executives still seated at the front and a pair of supervisors seated just behind them. A bad feeling bloomed in his chest, realizing that if there were only seven people on that bus, and Riddle was still sitting beside him, then—

“You’re with Riddle.”

Shock spread through his insides, the sound of Riddle’s low laugh beside him drowned out by the horror that followed.

No.

“Don’t even try it, Potter. Unless you’re willing to pay 800 pounds for your room and the special amenities the company has provided, you best keep your mouth shut and take your things into the room.”

At Mike’s steely tone, Harry clamped his mouth closed and clenched his jaw. When he had opened it to complain, he didn’t know, but at that moment, Harry wished more than ever that he could give everyone a piece of his mind. This was a disaster. They had no idea what it was that they had done, pairing him off with Riddle as if Harry would be able to sleep comfortably with that creep breathing down his neck.

Harry didn’t bother to spare Riddle a glance, shooting up to his feet and pushing past the man’s legs to head to the front of the bus.

Anger fed his movements, his scowl turning lethal when Mike gave him a pitying glance as he passed. He didn’t bother to look back and see for himself if Riddle was following after him. He probably was right at his heels, his longer legs making it easy to dwarf any space Harry managed to put between them.

Bloody perfect.

When he finally emerged from the bus, its doors wide and letting in winter’s frigid breath, Harry turned to see that his things had already been taken down from the storage compartment.

It wasn’t much. Just a small carry-on bag and a hiking bag carrying the essentials necessary to survive the duration of his “vacation.” He had at least three different winter coats packed into the backpack, mindful that it was going to be in the negatives for the entire weekend, and it would be stupid of him to let himself go unprepared.

Grumbling, Harry scooped the bag and slung one strap over his shoulder. He pulled out the handle of his roller bag, and began walking toward the set of buildings further out from the driveway.

Upon closer inspection, Harry found that the building looked even more run-down than it did from a distance. There were cobwebs on the upper suites and cracks in the pillars, which held up its once opulent entrance.

Great.

It was a lonely walk. His footsteps and his own breaths the only sounds cutting into the silence that descended over the place. His colleagues were nowhere to be found. They had long since made their way to the hotel, perhaps an attempt to escape the hideousness of the building and the biting cold cutting through their coats. It was a good thing Harry had packed well, he would have joined them in their desperation to get inside, otherwise.

Then, just as Harry was reaching the unsteady cover of the porch, footsteps sounded behind him. Harry did not turn, knowing already who it had to be. There were five others left on the bus, so Mike would still be inside with the remaining passengers.

“In a hurry?” Tom said, the sound of his footsteps growing louder and louder, alerting Harry of the unpleasant reality that he was getting closer. “Our destination is one in the same. Why not enjoy the weather? There is still time before we have to check-in.”

Gritting his teeth, Harry did not turn back even when Tom finally caught up to him and mirrored Harry’s brusque pace to the main building. There were several edifices stretched on either side of this main one, all in varying degrees of ugly. He hoped the inside was nicer than the outside.

“No.” Harry finally said when Riddle followed him, his movements easily mirroring Harry’s own. It added to Harry’s annoyance. “I just want to head to my room and forget that I am stuck here for an entire weekend with you.”

Riddle did not speak after that. It was the closest to a reprieve Harry had gotten all evening. The man wasn’t known for his chattiness, but on the bus, the bloke just didn’t know when to quit. Talking and talking about his observations of each of the supervisors and his opinions on the debacle that was this entire trip.

He could not immediately recall Tom ever talking this much in the past. This was more words than Harry had exchanged with Tom in his entire time at the company, including the fated afternoon where Riddle approached him at the diner.

Perhaps, if Harry hadn’t been so creeped out and annoyed with Riddle, he might not have minded the chatter. Ron was not a quiet guy, and neither was Hermione when someone fired her up, but Riddle was a creep. An attractive-looking man, but a creep all the same that placed too much weight on his attractiveness to get him special treatment at the company.

“There are worse things than being in a room with me, Harry.”

At the sound of his name, Harry turned to Riddle, slowing down so that he didn’t end up eating dirt and snow. He hoped his skepticism at the comment was obvious. There was nothing he could think of that could possibly be worse.

“Yeah? What?” Harry asked, humoring him when Riddle looked entirely too serious with his scarf wrapped around his neck and two massive luggage bags gripped beneath his fingers.

“Being trapped with a monster hiding in plain sight.”

Unease bloomed low in his stomach when Riddle smiled a beatific smile. A shudder rippled through him that had nothing to do with the cold air cutting through his cheeks.

He didn’t say anything in response, turning back to look at the wooden doors of the hotel. There wasn’t anything he could say to that. It had sounded like a warning, an ominous promise that made all the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.

Harry hoped Riddle had only been kidding and that there wasn’t some special meaning to what he’d said.

Harry had been right when he said that the hotel was a literal death trap.

At first, when they’d stopped by the receptionist desk to pick up their keys, the place had looked decent enough. It was marginally better than the exterior of the building, at least. Tasteful potted plants and landscape paintings lined the cream-colored walls, adding an air of sophistication that the outside lacked.

However, after checking in and learning that their suite was a great distance from the main entrance, Harry had grown immediately suspicious. After all, it was one thing to be within the same area as everyone else, but entirely another to be cut off from the rest of his co-workers.

They’d been assigned to Suite S, which turned out to be a separate building entirely. It was its own private space and there was only one room. A place, he found, that was better suited for couples wishing to escape noisy tourists rather than for jaded company employees.

Then, of course, just when Harry had thought the entire thing could not possibly get worse, when they opened the door, the interior of the room was a wreck. It looked like something straight out of some cheesy 90s porno. The couches were made of velvet. The bed was decorated with cheesy heart pillows and red satin sheets that looked to be stained with something he didn’t want to think too hard about.

There was an air conditioning unit and an electric hearth within centimeters of one another, pushed against the opposite wall facing the bed and the two white nightstands.

Apparently when his company had selected the rooms, they had, in their desperation to get a solid deal for the whole trip, had forgotten that this was meant to be a professional affair and not some shite attempt at matchmaking.

“Well, this is certainly interesting.” Tom chimed in, stepping past Harry and into the room with his luggage in tow.

Interesting was not the word Harry would use to describe this disaster.

“They must have made a mistake.” Harry said, stepping into the room and sighing in relief when there were at least two beds in the room rather than the one he had seen from the entrance.

Thank god.

“I doubt that they did. It seems that this room has all the trappings of a love motel, but the fact that they’d at least included a second bed and a kitchenette on the other end suggests otherwise.”

A flush stained his cheeks at the mention of love motels. God, Harry hoped that the room hadn’t been used as one for some time now and that the sheets were laundered well enough.

Harry didn’t think he could take many more surprises.

“Hopefully, they’ve recently renovated this room and washed the sheets.”

Harry did not dare dignify Tom’s comment with a response, kicking the door shut once he’d dragged his things inside.

The room was hideous, certainly, but the thought that this had once been a hotel where people slept with each other made him green with nausea. Sex wasn’t something he got too much of or pondered on, after his split with Ginny and his disastrous relationship with Draco. But to sleep in a bed where he knew others had fucked? That was too much even for him. At least, when the hotel didn’t having the history of a sex hotel, he could pretend no one had sex in those.

“I can’t sleep like this.” Harry said, trying to recall if he’d seen a laundry room somewhere in the building on his walk over to the suite. Management had mentioned that they did have a place to launder their clothes, free of charge, but where that was, was a mystery.

“Well, the sun is still out. There would be no need for you to rest until the sun at least sets.”

That was not the answer Harry had been hoping for, a loud groan escaping him when he sat on the bed, its springs creaking with his weight.

“This sucks.” Harry sighed, realizing then that there would be no way out of this. The laundry room was possibly on the other side of the place. He was sharing a room with Tom Riddle, who didn’t seem at all fazed by potentially sleeping on sex-drenched sheets, and this was a weekend long excursion with no escape until the length of their stay ended.

At the sound of rustling cloth, Harry turned his attention away from the carpeted floor and glanced at the source.

Harry wished he hadn’t. Riddle had removed his shirt, his bare chest pale white beneath the incandescent light of the suite. His trouser button was undone, a band of dark green poking from the slit where his trousers laid open.

Turning away immediately, Harry tried not to blush with his discomfort. “I swear to god, Riddle, couldn’t you have changed in the bathroom? You’re not in the privacy of your own damn flat.”

The rustling stopped and Harry barely kept himself from turning once again when the side of his bed dipped.

“I’m well aware that I am not alone.”

Riddle’s voice had come far too close for comfort, his breath fanning across the bare skin of Harry’s neck. “If you do not wish to see me, then avert your eyes. I am not forcing you to look at me.”

With that, Riddle pulled away.

Harry didn’t say anything else after that, the haunting memory of Riddle’s hot breath against his neck and the fact that he didn’t care that Harry was there with him, a poignant one.

God, Harry thought, pressing his hands into his face, this is going to be a fucking nightmare.

Thankfully, his rooming together with Riddle hadn’t ended in catastrophe. Despite realizing he was staying in a renovated love hotel and learning that Riddle honestly gave zero absolute shits about personal space, Harry acclimated rather quickly.

As long as Harry didn’t think too hard about what Riddle did in the room or about what people had done on the bed, it was bearable. Riddle, for the most part, left Harry to his own devices and didn’t demand any more than was necessary of his time. Most often, Riddle talked to him about inane things like the weather and the flaws of each employee currently staying at the place, but it wasn’t too bad. He could handle it.

However, things took a turn the second day of their forced cohabitation.

Apparently, the hotel had a partnership with one of the local resorts that offered discounted pricing on sledding and skiing equipment. The company had offered to pay for the whole thing, as a means of quieting the complaints of almost everyone. Apparently, their rooms were shite. Something about the air conditioning unit not working and the room being plagued by a bizarre odor—Harry wasn’t certain on the logistics.

So far, his room had a fully functional heater and his room did not smell of strange things. The smell of cheap detergent wasn’t ideal, but it was markedly better than the stench of sewage and garbage that his co-workers complained of from theirs.

Either way, after many complaints from the disgruntled supervisors, the company had relented in paying for their equipment for that afternoon. The resort itself wasn’t a “resort” by any means. It was more of a small shack with a bustling hearth and maybe one or two employees manning the whole place, but it seemed to pacify the others.

Except Harry.

He wasn’t fond of the idea, if he were being honest. The hotel had a terrible reputation and after looking up reviews on Yelp for the equipment rental store, Harry was even more convinced that borrowing anything, even when it was free, was a bad idea.

If only he had followed his instincts and not allowed Tom to badger him into coming along with everyone. He would have preferred to stay inside, warm and comfortable, rather than out in the snow with a man he disliked immensely and fellow co-workers he had no reason to talk to.

Harry sighed, sulking as he waited to go down the small mountain. They had been taking turns, the more seasoned skiers taking the lead while the other less experienced bunch watched on with terrified and intrigued eyes.

He’d skied before. Sirius had taken him out once when he’d been a teen and it had been fun. Watching Sirius eat snow more than once while Remus had watched on with a fond smile had been worth all the bruises he’d earned trying to learn.

However, this was nothing like those lazy winter afternoons. There was no Sirius or Remus here to poke humor at his expense. There was only Riddle and the other equally exhausted employees waiting to have a go before retiring for the day.

“Are you ready?” A voice whispered into Harry’s ear, rousing him from his thoughts.

He turned to the voice, frowning when, of course, it was Riddle who had spoken. He was the only that ever whispered so damned close to his ear.

“About as ready as I’ll ever be.”

He ignored the small smile that spread along Riddle’s face before turning back to the winding path before him. It was a long ways down, white with snow and littered with patches of evergreen.

“You don’t look very thrilled, Harry.” Tom pointed out, stepping forward to stand over the edge of the hill to Harry’s right. It looked like Riddle planned to go along with him. Why he wanted to do something like that beyond Harry. “Why don’t we make things a bit interesting. Start a bet of sorts?”

Harry paused, turning his attention back on Riddle. He was smiling still, his eyes bright and mischievous. It made something turn in his stomach, as if he’d already taken a dive down the mountain.

“A bet? What do you have in mind?” Harry hedged, humoring the bloke if only to satisfy his own curiosity. It wasn’t common for Riddle to gamble, especially when he was the one that ran the company’s accounting department. It was strange.

“The first one to reach the bottom of the mountain gets to ask for one favour of the other.”

A frown stretched across his face while Riddle’s smile remained in place. That didn’t sound like a good enough deal to him. What could he possibly want from Riddle?

A favor? There was nothing Riddle had that Harry wanted.

Harry was about to reject the offer and turn back to the mountain when Riddle’s hand clamped on his arm, smile gone. Something in his insides wrenched at the contact, the proximity between them reminding him of the bizarre event on the bus and the strange conversation on their walk to the front desk the previous day.

This couldn’t be good.

“If you win, you could ask me to never speak to you again.”

Oh.

Surprise made his mouth part in shock, his eyes growing wide at the fact that Riddle would volunteer that kind of favor. It was…tempting. Harry didn’t want anything to do with him, so perhaps asking him to leave him alone, well. That sounded almost too good to be true.

Harry narrowed his eyes, immediately suspicious.

“And why would you risk that? So far, you’ve shown little interest in honoring my personal autonomy.”

Riddle didn’t speak for a moment, his hand still grasping Harry’s forearm. It wasn’t a death grip by any means, but it definitely wasn’t a hold Harry could easily shake off without getting into a scuffle.

“Because it would be fun. What is the point of a bet if one of the parties is not interested in his prize?”

That was a good point, and Harry’s lips pursed at that. He wasn’t wrong. He wouldn’t agree to a bet if there was nothing in it for him.

Still, Harry thought, that still doesn’t answer the question of what Riddle could want.

“And you? Are you interested in your prize? Why would you want a favor from me?” Harry asked, unable to curb his own curiosity.

“I am interested, I wouldn’t be asking for a favor if there wasn’t something of worth to be gained.” Riddle offered, his fingers tightening on Harry’s arm minutely before releasing it entirely. The flesh ached where Riddle had gripped him. “I am only interested in the favor itself. One that I can cash in at a later date when necessary.”

Well…that did make some sense, Harry thought. He knew enough about people to know that sometimes they were just happy knowing that they had someone watching their back. He would be the first to say that he didn’t know Riddle, but he also knew that although he was odd and creepy, he wasn’t mass murderer. He said strange and cryptic things Harry didn’t always follow, but he wasn’t evil.

What was the worst that could happen? Riddle already followed him around like a debt collector, how bad would it be to owe him a favor?

“Alright, I’ll do it. Just don’t get any funny ideas, okay?”

Riddle tilted his head to one side, lips stretching into a thin smile that looked far more genuine than all the other expressions he’d seen Riddle wear, before outstretching his hand. Harry didn’t hesitate to take it, shaking on their agreement.

“Agreed.”

Nodding, Harry turned once again to the hill. His goggles were pressed against his forehead, and he grabbed the ski poles and readied himself. At his side, Harry took one quick glance to see Riddle do the same, gearing up for the race. He looked determined, strangely sober for a race that was allegedly meant to be purely for fun.

“Ready?” Harry asked, tugging on his goggles, ever so grateful that he’d opted for contacts that afternoon.

“Ready.” Riddle said.

“Then, on three.” Harry said, fingers clenching tightly around the ski poles, a bead of sweat gathering on the nape of his neck.

“One.”

Harry turned away from Riddle, watching the clouds obscure the sliver of light above them. Dark and oppressive, reminiscent of the shade of Riddle’s own eyes.

“Two.”

Harry’s heart was racing a mile a minute, euphoria and adrenaline close companions as he prepared himself for the race. It’d been a long time since he’d played games with high stakes.

It felt good.

“Three!”

They were off. The wind blowing against his face was relentless, the darkening sky and the sensation of his skis hitting the snow one that made his blood sing. He didn’t turn to look if Riddle was following him.

In that moment, it was Harry and the snow. The wind was all he could hear, the biting pressure of the air cutting through every layer of his coat and his thermal underwear. It was thrilling, and he couldn’t help the smile that stretched over his face when he pushed on, wading through the snow like a sea snake swam through a river.

A whoop tumbled from his lips, and he watched how the trees passed him in a blur of green and white, rocks and other debris easily avoided with a careful push of his ski poles. It was amazing—he’d forgotten just how much he enjoyed this feeling.

“Harry!” A voice cut through his excitement, loud and familiar. He almost turned toward it, befuddled that someone could be shouting his name when he was flying through the snow at a speed that was almost unreal.

“You have to turn back!” Frowning, Harry did turn his head at that, confusion coloring his face when up at the top of the mountain there was a crowd of onlookers that he couldn’t identify. They were too far for him to see their faces, but their screams rang through the sound of rushing snow and wind.

“There’s a storm brewing, you have to stop!”

A storm?

Trepidation bloomed in his stomach, recalling in that instant the darkened clouds that had begun to gather at the top of the sky, the sun nearly overcome when he’d been talking to Riddle earlier.

There had been no mention of a storm on his weather app, he had checked three hundred times to make sure. It was unprecedented that things could unravel so quickly.

“Watch out!”

At that loud cry, Harry had one split second to turn around and look forward before he smashed into a tree, his body careening out of control. He screamed, eyes falling shut as the snow and his own inertia forced him down the hill and further away from the screaming voices of his colleagues.

His body lifted mid-air, rolling through the ground in a heap of limbs. Harry had no time but to buckle down when his ankle smashed into a rock, an ear-splitting crack sounding in the air. A cry tore from his lungs, the pain making his eyes water when his body continued to roll further down until he could hear nothing but the sound of the blood rushing to his ears and his own whimpers each time he jostled his leg.

Help!

Harry couldn’t scream, mouth filling with snow as he continued to roll until finally, he smashed into what could only be another tree, halting his descent. Everything hurt. His fingers were wet and sticky with blood from when the rocks along the path had cut through his coat and into his skin.

There was no telling how long he laid that way. It could have easily been an eternity before he gathered the wherewithal to open his eyes.

Blinking, he tried to repress his tears when he tried to get up and unwittingly awakened a deep, pulsing pain concentrated on his ankle.

A swear tumbled from his mouth, then a whimper, his eyes blinking away the darkened spots of his vision to take note of his surroundings. He didn’t dare move as he took in the winding trees towering above him and the bloodied snow. No, he held perfectly still, afraid to jostle any other injuries.

Fuck, he should have been paying attention. It was a rookie mistake to turn one’s back, to lose one’s concentration while in the midst of a run.

“Hel-help, somebody,” Harry cried out, coughing when his lungs began to protest at his efforts. “R-riddle? Someone!” He didn’t know why he called for him, why he would bother, but he had to try. He couldn’t just lay there, helpless while a fucking storm rolled over the horizon.

There was no response. It was only him and trees around him. The sky, in the time that it took him to come to a stop after hitting every rock and fallen branch on the way down, growing darker. Purple and heavy, the threat of a storm thick in the black clouds that floated above the trees.

Perfect, just bloody perfect.

Harry laid there helpless, unable to do anything as he waited for someone come find him. He was certain he hadn’t rolled too far away from the main skiing camp. There was only so much inertia a person had before they stopped, and Harry doubted he could have gotten very far.

But when the minutes seemed to stretch out for what felt like an eternity, Harry’s confidence began to wane. Apprehension crept over his senses, the possibility of dying out here in the cold while he bled out, a heavy one that made his breaths come far too quickly.

So much for a wonderful vacation, Harry.

“Harry!”

At the sound of his name, Harry perked up, wincing when he jostled his arm, realizing that he’d probably broken it too when he tried to break his fall.

“I’m he-here!” He screamed. His voice echoed through the trees, and he prayed in that moment that whoever had followed him down there had heard him. He didn’t know how long he could last if he didn’t get some help.

He had already lost feeling in his extremities, the numbness more terrifying than the actual fall. When one started going numb, that was when fingers or limbs were lost. Eaten away by the frost, victim to winter’s cruel breath.

“Harry, where are you!?” That voice came again, closer this time. Harry tried to crawl toward it, teeth aching when his ankle began to pulse in time with his racing heartbeat. It was so fucked that Harry doubted he could put any weight on it—he’d need a doctor to fix it if he didn’t want a permanent limp. “Harry!”

“I’m here. I’m here!”

Harry was screaming bloody murder, crawling toward the voice. His nails dug into the snow, his fingertips, even with gloves, tingling with each mound of snow he dug through to push himself forward.

A shadow passed over him, lurking from somewhere inside the trees, and Harry opened his mouth to scream again.

“I’m here, please. I’m here—” His throat was aching fiercely by the end of it, scratchy and hoarse. He doubted he could keep shouting without losing his voice entirely.

The minutes trickled by, the shadow lingering in the trees for a long stretch of time, before the shadow broke through the trees and ran toward him. Harry couldn’t quite make out the person, his vision was coming in and out, blood loss and pain taking its toll on him after forcing himself to crawl that one meter he had.

“Harry…”

The person threw himself to the snow beside him, his hands, gentle and so warm, pulling him up to rest his head over his lap.

“You idiot,” the man said, fingers carding through the hair peeking from beneath his cap. It was a miracle it hadn’t fallen off, with how quickly he’d rolled down that mountain, but he was grateful for it. His insides were cold, his hands and feet had gone numb. “You could have gotten yourself killed. Why would you look back while skiing?”

Harry coughed, head lolling to one side. His head felt heavy, as if weighed down by stone. His vision was growing darker and darker as the minutes passed, and it was only at the stranger’s curse that he became aware that he was being scooped up, the pain in his arm and ankle yanking him out of the strange haze settling over him.

Whimpering, Harry tilted his head to regard the man that was now dragging him by his waist and shoulders toward, what he assumed, was the hotel.

It took him an embarrassing amount of time to recognize who this person was. The goggles, cap, and thick coat had obscured most, if not all, of the man’s features.

“R-Riddle?” Harry said, throat dry and aching as he was pulled along. “They sent you?”

Riddle fixed his gaze on him then, his dark eyes the only discernible feature on the man’s face. They were intense, a glimmer to them that made something nervous jolt in Harry’s stomach. It wasn’t a pleasant look. One might even say that Riddle looked upset. Harry didn’t get it.

“I sent myself.” Riddle replied, his eyes staring into Harry’s eyes. It almost hurt to look at him, the strain of his eyes making his head pound. “When I saw that you were nowhere to be found, I set off looking for you.”

That made sense. They had both pushed off the top at the same time. It would be odd not to find his competitor after they’d both made their gambles.

“The storm should be here soon. I did my best to find you before you became buried in it.” Riddle continued, his movements careful even though, in retrospect, Tom should be rushing to find cover somewhere. There was no time for him to be gentle with him. His ankle and arm were broken, but what did his limbs matter if he didn’t survive in the first place?

“Riddle, then you might want to hurry up. I-if we do have a storm coming, then you shouldn’t be this slo-slow.” Harry coughed, cheeks itchy with dried tears as he tried to compose himself through his hacking fits. Maintaining conversation was a strain, but he couldn’t just be quiet when their lives were at risk.

“We’ll be fine. There’s a cave not too far from here.”

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and allowed Riddle to guide him to the cave. It was certainly no hospital, but he couldn’t afford to be picky. There was no time to make it back to the hotel and avoid the storm. A quick glance towards the sky revealed that it would be upon them at any moment. It had gone a sickly dark purple, the sun eaten entirely by the terrifying weather.

Heaviness swept through him, the same sensation of floating away making his head fall against Riddle’s chest. He was exhausted, eyes struggling to stay open when Riddle’s rocking movements lulled him to sleep. It didn’t help that his fear and adrenaline had gradually dissipated, Riddle’s words and presence serving as a comfort for the real danger he’d be in without it.

He didn’t want to die here. Not now when there was so much for him to do, when his life was only just beginning. How terrible would it be to die with his last memories being this shitty trip? No, he refused to die here.

Riddle did not speak for some time, the sound of his steps crushing snow and his own breathing the only thing to break the eerie silence that had settled between them. Harry tried to stay awake, shifting his head to look at Riddle, but the numbness was too much. Even Riddle’s heat, though welcomed in that moment, was not enough to drive away the chill still clinging to his limbs.

“Ar-are we almost there?” Harry said, eyelids falling shut and refusing to obey his desire to remain awake. It was dangerous to fall asleep, to give in to that strange sensation undulating beneath his skin. He’d heard stories, seen enough survival series to know that sleep was the last thing he wanted to have when he was losing blood and freezing his arse off.

“Harry—” Riddle said, but Harry could not make out his words. They faded in and out of his hearing, even when Harry’s cheek vibrated with the force of Riddle’s voice. There was something calling to him, something familiar.

Harry…

It was a soft voice. One that sounded an awful like his mother, singing for him to close his eyes and to dream. He recognized it, latching onto it desperately because it was his mother’s voice. It was unmistakable, the rich velvet of her tongue speaking his name could not be anything else.

Sleep, my darling, my son.

A smile crept over his face and the world became nothing. Haziness settled into his bones, over his fingertips until there was nothing but her.

Close your eyes and let yourself be free…

The lolling motions ceased, evaporating like a white mist.

Cover your ears, I’ll be here…

His mother had never come back. Her voice and the rich scent of her hair were the only memories he had of her—her face and her hair, a nebulous nothing that he couldn’t recall with detail. Not when it’d been years since she’d died, since his father had joined her in the afterlife, leaving him at the mercy of the Dursleys…

To battle the monsters reaching for your feet…

“Harry!”

His eyes snapped open to a sea of grey, his chest heaving with shallow breaths as he tried to make sense of where he was and why it was so damn bright…

“Don’t close your eyes. You must stay awake.”

He blinked repeatedly, trying to will away the black spots flickering over his vision.

“W-where—?” Harry coughed, unable to finish his phrase when the short puffs of air turned into heavy wheezing. His eyes burned, tears threatening to fall from the violence of his breathing. It was so terrible that it took him a while to notice the warmth stretching along his back, rubbing soothing circles against his clothed flesh.

There was no telling how long he remained that way, equal parts enjoying the warmth seeping into his back and hating the burn of his throat.

God.

“There, that’s it. Breathe in through your nose and let out slow breaths from your mouth.” A masculine voice whispered into his ear, a strange sensation blooming in his belly when lips grazed the shell of it. “Try to stay awake. You cannot fall asleep in your condition.”

Confusion spread through him, and then—

Harry glanced down after his coughing subsided to find that his ankle was bent in a way that he’d never seen his leg bend before. It was lying on the floor, his trousers smeared in blood and dirt, the cuff torn so as to reveal bruised and swollen flesh.

There was no pain despite its grim appearance.

Swallowing, Harry was just about to ask what had happened when all of his memories came at him at once. The bet, the cries of an oncoming storm, the loud crunch of his ankle and arm making impact with tree and rock, the sight of his blood on white snow—oh god, his blood—and the cold. A fierce, unwavering cold that spread through him as sickness cut through impoverished villages.

“O-oh god,” Harry stammered, the lack of feeling in his legs and fingers making panic choke on his spit. “I-I can’t feel my fingers, my feet—”

“You were out in the cold for some time. There’s no need to panic. I’ll try to get you warmed up as we wait for the storm to pass.” Riddle—yes, that was who this was—said into his ear before his arms wrapped around him.

Harry stiffened, unable to repress that reaction, before he inevitably sank into the embrace, unable to resist the heat Riddle emitted. It made his blood warm, his body tingle strangely to be pressed against his body after winter had nearly devoured him with her icy mouth. There was a strange sound beneath the background, not nearly as loud as the sound of Riddle’s voice or the heartbeat beneath the man’s chest, but it was there.

It was a constant thrum.

“Unfortunately, in the time it took me to bring you to the cave, I was not able to gather some dry wood to start a fire. We will have to make do with one another’s own body heat until the storm tapers off.”

Storm…? That had to be the source of the sound. It couldn’t be anything else.

Then, the reality of Riddle’s words finally registered. It was nearly enough to spring him from the brink of death.

Sharing body heat? If this had been any other situation, Harry might have balked at such a suggestion. But he was out of options, nearly having died for the second time that afternoon by sinking into hypothermia.

Had he been out that long that he’d nearly succumbed to it? Had he lost that much blood that he’d thought it a great idea to give in to the weakness in his body? There could be no other possibilities.

“H-how long did it take you to find me, out in the snow?” Harry asked, voice shaking.

“Three hours, possibly. I cannot be sure.”

Closing his eyes, Harry sank deeper into Riddle’s body. He couldn’t believe that he’d been out that long. Could he have passed out after his fall? Harry frowned, a gasp escaping him when he moved his arm and a searing pain shot past his elbow and up to his shoulder. It made his eyes water, reminding him once again that he was far more injured that he’d originally thought.

“Careful. Try not to move. You’ve broken your arm and ankle. It is also possible that you’ve sustained other injuries not easily seen.”

No shit, Harry wanted to say, but refrained from doing so. As much as Riddle annoyed him on a good day, the man was helping him. He’d come out to his rescue, had saved him not once, but twice, from death. Riddle had been nothing but helpful, his touches gentle and soothing even when they came from someone as strange as him.

It was uncharacteristic how such an unfeeling man in many ways managed to be understanding of his pain. Perhaps, Harry might have misjudged him? Had jumped too quickly to conclusions by convincing himself that Riddle was an unfeeling automaton?

Guilt cut through him, recalling some of the unwarranted insults he’d thrown in Riddle’s direction when the man had done nothing but make conversation. He supposed now was as good a time as any to apologize and thank him for his help. He would be dead if not for his intervention. It was the least he could do.

“Ri—”

A sharp intake of breath cut off whatever apology or amends Harry intended to convey. Hot air fanned against the back of his head before something hard poked it, a something that was unmistakably a nose—

“D-did you just bloody sniff me?” Harry said, eyes wide with disbelief when Riddle did not cease the gesture, breathing him in as if he’d been waiting years for this privilege. “Are you really doing this right now?”

Harry was too shocked to feel any anger. He was injured, exhausted, and trapped in some cave for an indeterminable amount of time. He didn’t have it in him.

“We are quite close. There isn’t much room for me to breathe elsewhere.” Riddle replied smoothly, almost too smoothly. Harry’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced, but didn’t push the issue. There was a time and a place for arguments.

Injured, trapped in a cave, while a storm was raging outside was clearly not the time nor place.

“Fine.” Harry said, giving into the warmth Riddle provided. He was still cold, fingers and feet still numb. As much as it pained him to have to rely on Riddle, he was the only source of heat available for the time being.

And if Riddle’s mouth trailed too close to his neck, or his fingers played with the hem of his winter coat? Harry would make no mention of it. Not when he huddled closer, basking in Riddle’s warm embrace.

Their bet and their tumultuous relationship, temporarily forgotten.

#Tomarry #Harrymort #fanfiction #tropes #Anonymous

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