#i felt so stuck and no energy after i started this set this month

[01432853]

@asiandramanet event 05 ㅡ women :

favorite c-actresses ♡

(insp. x x / c. x x x x x x x)

[slxtarchive]

𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐍 ꩜ 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you and your best friend billie had your monthly sleepover consisting of a movie night and slurpees… she might’ve slurped sum else too.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. no but inspired by a request i got for madz

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. SMUT ! oral f!receiving, fingering, scissoring, talks of finding yourself kinda, confusing and conflicting feels, basically relatable content [ especially for me ] a little deep on this one.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. the synopsis i cannot — anyway, this was inspired by a madz request i got! tried making a divider, i got the inspiration from pinterest [ click here to be added to my billie eilish taglist ]

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 3.6k.

“so i’m thinking like three different chips, maybe two candies and… slurpees?” billie smiled excitedly. “we have to go all out since we didn’t have a sleepover last month!! c’mon, ill pay.” she moved forward super close to you practically touching your nose.

you rolled your eyes moving forward as your foreheads touched narrowing your eyes. “okay.” you said, quietly laughing with a grin on your face.

you and billie have always been super close. you spent practically every day together and if it weren’t for your parents you’d have a sleepover every week.

most people at school thought you two were a bit too close but you both never gave your friendship a second thought, well, you didn’t give your friendship a second thought. billie though, growing up she found herself thinking about you as more than just a friend but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind with fear of messing with your friendship — which she would never put in jeopardy.

you grabbed your snacks and slushees deciding which ones to get. billie insisted you picked them all out before you headed back to her house.

this time you both were in the living room because her parents were out of town. so, you both set it up a little more dramatically than you usually would in her room. you brought the couch cushions together to make a makeshift bed with a bunch of fluffy blankets. then, billie brought out a bowl and platter for your chips and a spot to set down your slushees.

after a few minutes of setting everything up, you finally sat down and began to decide on a movie. “what are we feeling?” she questioned, scrolling through netflix.

you looked at the rows of movies showing up on the screen before something caught your eye. “fear street…” you read. “it’s horror, and — oo it’s a trilogy! fear street 1994, 1978, and 1666.” you looked toward her excitedly.

she pressed her lips together trying to stifle a laugh. “so i’m guessing your choice is that one?" she hovered over the movie.

you nodded, "yeah we can watch all three. movie marathon!" you sang out.

she obliged putting on the first movie of the trilogy. throughout the movie it was good, you both commented on how crazy the storyline was and how cute the main characters were until one particular scene came about.

you sat on the couch legs crisscrossed practically mesmerized by the scene before you. you became overly aware of billie’s shoulder next to yours, the room heating up around you.

the scene was short but it still clouded your mind for the rest of the movie — your thoughts running a mile a minute.

by the time the second movie was wrapping up, you felt the energy in the room shift. the air felt charged somehow — heavy — with something unspoken.

the third movie started, bringing its scene to the start of the storyline all the way back in 1666. two girls who both had a secret attraction to each other but couldn’t act on it because of the views of their village.

you felt for the girls, in a way that you didn’t know you could feel. the scenes continued and as more scenes passed — the more the story made sense. every scene was important but there was one particular scene that stuck with you even more.

your fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket that covered your and billie’s legs as the scene unfolded. the two girls had gone out into the empty woods together after a fight had broken out. you didn’t pay much attention to the dialogue of the interaction — you paid more to the energy shift between them.

you eyes were fixed on the screen as the two girls, deena and sam, shared an emotional and deeply tender moment.

your breathing hitched and your chest tightened, a strange warmth spreading through you that you couldn’t explain. you had seen many romantic scenes before — but this one felt… different. it felt so real. it felt like something you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

what pulled your eyes away from the screen was when you moved your gaze over to billie, whose face was lit by the glow of the tv screen. her expression was unreadable, her lips slightly parted, her focus locked on the screen. you quickly turned your head back moving your eyes away from her, your cheeks flushed.

by the time the movie ended, you couldn’t sit still. your mind was racing and your body was tense. the silence between you both was deafening, interrupted by the ending credits song starting.

billie finally broke the quiet. “that was so good! holy shit.” she smiled, before looking at you.

you cleared your throat a bit trying to shake the thoughts from your brain. “yeah.” you whispered, your voice not sounding too convincing.

billie noticed the shift in your energy quicker than anything. she moved her posture to face you before speaking up. “you okay? you’ve been quiet since—” she stopped herself, before softening her gaze. “since that scene.”

you stiffened, your fingers twisting the blanket with anxiousness. “i’m fine.”

she tilted her head, unconvinced. “yn.” she knew you better than anyone in the world including your parents and yourself.

you sighed, knowing exactly what she was thinking. your chest rose and fell unevenly. “it’s stupid.” you mumbled, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“it’s not stupid if it’s bothering you yn.” billie’s eyebrows furrowed.

you hesitated, your throat feeling dry. “it’s just… that scene. it made me feel… weird? i… don’t know why. it’s like… it hit me in a way i wasn’t expecting, and now i can’t stop thinking about it.”

billie stayed quiet in response to your confession. her eyes scanned your face searching for some kind of telling.

you noticed the longing stare she gave you. “it’s not just the scene…” you whispered, your heart twisting and churning. “it’s you..” you confessed in realization. “sitting here with you i—” you stopped yourself, not wanting to say things you might not know the truth of.

you shook your head trying to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. you swallowed harshly, “i don’t know what’s happening to me, bils.” you admitted.

billie’s heart pounded as the air surrounding her became thick. she found the courage to reach her hand out toward you, brushing your hand. “you’re not alone.” she said softly.

you looked up, your eyes searching hers. “what do you mean?”

billie took in a shaky deep breath. “i… i felt it too — during that scene.” she bit her lip nervously. “and i have felt it before, with you.” she looked you into your eyes.

your heart practically stopped right then and there. you wanted to speak but you felt like all the words you thought of and wanted to say, that they couldn’t make their way out of your mouth.

billie spoke up, noticing the trouble you had been having. “i would’ve said something but i’ve just been too scared to say anything because i don’t know if you’d… if you’d feel the same.”

your breathing hitched, your pulse roared in your ears. “you’ve felt… felt it?”

billie nodded avoiding eye contact with you, “yeah. and it’s confusing and scary, and it feels like my chest is about to explode every time i try n think about it. but…” she stuttered her hand running through her hair, “but it also feels good. like it just — just makes sense.” she finally looked up to look into your eyes.

the space between you both felt smaller now, the air filling with tension. your gaze flicked to billie’s lips, then back to her eyes. “i don’t know what to do with this feeling…” you whispered with a conflicting feeling.

her hand moved to cup your cheek, her thumb softly brushing against it — the touch sending electricity through your veins. “we don’t have to know. not right now, okay? we can just… feel.”

you leaned into her touch instinctively, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure she could hear it. slowly, billie found her forehead pressing against yours, your breaths mingling in the quiet.

the moment hung there, suspended, until you tilted your head, your lips brushing against hers. the kiss was soft, tentative, their movements slow as you both felt your way through this unfamiliar territory.

billie’s hand slid to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling their way through your hair. your hand gripped the blanket over them before hesitantly moving to rest on her waist, pulling her closer.

you felt the kiss deepen, not rushed but full of quiet intensity, a mixture of nervousness and something unspoken that somehow had always been there, waiting to rise up to the surface.

when you both pulled away, you stayed close to each other — your noses brushing together and breaths shaky.

“is this okay?” billie whispered up against your lips.

you nodded, your fingers brushing against her side. “yeah, it’s… it’s more than okay.” you licked your bottom lip moving closer.

she nodded, building up the courage to kiss you once more but stood there admiring the way you looked angelic in the tv glow.

your eyes moved all over her face before you made the move to kiss her. your lips molded with each other softly and passionately with more need this time.

you liked it. the feeling of her lips on yours. your skin touching hers. it felt so good — so right. you could taste the faint flavor of cherry from the slurpee on her tongue as the kiss became more hungry. she slipped her tongue into your mouth again before she pushed you onto your back. she then straddled you still never letting your lips disconnect.

you felt hot and needy in between your legs and felt the same thing between hers. the small gasps that came from your mouth showed billie that you enjoyed what was happening but she still wanted to your thoughts on what she wanted to do next.

her hands moved from your face all the way down to your chest then your lower stomach. “we’re just feeling right?” she gulped, out of breath.

you didn’t register what she meant but responded with a slow nod. “mmm — yeah? yeah… we are.”

she took another deep slow breath before moving down your lap and moving her hands to the waistband of your shorts. “and if you like… what i’m doing — i could keep going. if you don’t, i could stop.” you still didn’t get what was going on until she trailed her fingers inside a bit, beneath your underwear as well.

you took a deep breath leaning back on your elbows trying to calm down. your mind immediately went to the movie scene, the way you felt — the way it made your body feel. you felt needy for that in the moment. the way you felt all uncomfortable but a good uncomfortable, as if there was an itch you wanted to scratch. that’s exactly how you felt right now with billie making a move toward that kind of thing.

just to be sure you wanted to ask. “stop… stop what exactly?” you questioned, still looking down at her.

she smiled softly before tugging down your shorts a bit. “just… stop me from tasting you.” she still pulled down your shorts slowly looking up at you waiting for your response.

the only response you had, had to do with your body. the fact that you nodded while wanting to clench your thighs and soothe that feeling down there showed you that this is what you wanted. your only worry would be that this would change everything, something you didn’t want to happen but at this point — you couldn’t stop yourself.

she pulled your shorts down before taking them fully off leaving you in your underwear. she noticed the damp spot in between your legs. “you’re sure?” she asked, her tongue touching her lower lip.

your chest moved up and down as you tried to build the courage. you let out a breath, “yeah, i’m… i’m sure.”

she nodded before moving to take off your underwear. she tugged them down the same she did with the shorts and tossed them to the side giving you a full view of your pussy. you felt exposed and quite nervous so you closed your thighs. she giggled shortly, bringing her hands up to keep them from closing. “it’s okay..” she whispered through the low light.

she moved your legs away from each other so she could see you again and moved her head down. your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest when you felt her give one lick. your body reacted instantly as your back arched slightly and your breathing stopped abruptly. she looked up at you before taking another lick — the eye contact doing something insane to you.

she slowly got more comfortable with it starting to suck softly on your clit. your hand found its way to her hair tugging on it and trying to pull her closer. “fuck—” you moaned as her tongue dipped into your entrance then brought your slick up to your clit.

she sucked and moved her tongue around picking up her pace before speaking up. “tell me if… if it feels good. tell me what feels good. wanna make you feel good.” she blabbered taking your clit again into your mouth and sucking on it harshly.

“that — that feels really fucking good. i’m… oh fuck bils.” you moved the hair out of her face again to see her actions on your clit. “yeah, jus’ like that…” you moaned throwing your head back.

she nodded against your pussy harshly pushing her tongue on you. the mix of her saliva and your arousal adding to the squelching wet sounds.

she brought her fingers up to slowly inch inside you providing more feeling and pleasure. she hummed against your clit as her fingers thrust inside of you. you couldn’t help but move your hips up to meet her tongue, practically trying to ride her. your eyes clenched shut, “fuck billie… i feel so — oh fuck..” you couldn’t get your words out.

billie felt you getting closer and closer wanting to bring you to that state of ecstasy. she licked, sucked, and slurped everything up before letting it fall onto your clit and doing it all over again until you came undone on her tongue.

you tried to catch your breath as billie brought her face away from you and up to face you, her hand wiping your slick from her chin. she licked her lips, “so… did you— did you like that?” she asked, shy and nervous.

your eyes were filled with lust as you responded. “mhm — i… i loved it.” you nodded before getting on your knees in front of her and taking her hands in yours. “let me make you feel good too?” you looked at her lips before leaning forward and capturing them in a kiss.

she whimpered against your lips as she felt your hands touch her waist. billie couldn’t wait for you to take off her clothes so she did it for you, removing both her shorts and underwear leaving you both bottomless. “i… can we try something?”

you were practically hypnotized by her so you nodded eager to hear what she had to say.

she sat back against the couch armrest with her legs wide open. she touched herself a little bringing the arousal from her entrance to her clit. “want you to… rub yourself on me, please.” you gulped, trying to figure out how exactly she wanted you to do it. “you just—” she started sitting up and pulling you closer. “put this leg over mine and rub yourself onto me.” she tapped your right leg. “do you want me to show you first?”

you nodded pressing your lips together not wanting to do anything wrong. she obliged your request pushing you back onto you laying flat on the couch. your head wasn’t elevated or anything so it was hard to see what she was doing but you felt her lift your right leg up and push it back against your chest, then she made her way on top of you. before you knew it, she placed her own pussy on yours.

she fixed herself so she was right on top of you then started moving slowly. your mouth fell open at this new sensation. you looked up to find billie already staring at you. “how does it feel?”

you poked your tongue. “it feels really good.” your head moved back as your eyes fluttered shut. you felt so hot and sweaty, you wondered if it’d be okay to take off your shirt. you felt your adrenaline take over so you decided to do it anyway. you took it off and tossed it off the couch before unclasping your bra and doing the same with it as well leaving you topless.

billie’s moved her hips faster and harsher upon seeing you feel more comfortable with her. she decided to avoid making you feel alone she took off her own shirt and bra leaving her in her bare skin. your hands rested on her hips trying to push her to move faster. “please, faster bils. feels so good..” you whined softly.

billie nodded. “c’mon, you try.” she said lying down on her back. you felt that feeling of edge simmer so you hurriedly tried to move your legs mirroring what billie was doing. you looked at her for reassurance as you moved your legs over hers. “yeah, that’s good.” she nodded.

you brought yourself down pushing over her trying to find that specific spot that made your legs feel like jelly. you looked at billie trying to read her expression as a way to help you that you found her sweet spot too. she bit her lip moving her hair away from her face. she hummed with pleasure as you moved your pussy over a particular spot.

you smiled lightly, trying to repeat that action over that same spot. “yeah yn, just like that, please.” she moaned resting her hands on your hips. “such a pretty girl.” she purred, her face contorting as you grinded over her own pussy. the wetness in between making the smallest noises. that feeling you felt earlier was coming back almost becoming too much.

your hand rested over her leg that was off to the side and resting against the side of her chest. you moved with passionate eyes on that amazing feeling that was coursing up through you. “oh shit bils… i’m — i’m gonna cum.” you cried out, the pleasure blinding you.

she moved her head to the side clenching the couch. “me too yn… fuck — keep moving like that, please. jus like that.”

desperate spurts of moans escaped your throat as you kept your hips moving faster and harsher. you were right there you just needed a little push.

you looked down at billie to see her eyes fluttered closed with her lip between her teeth. that look on her face, the fact that it was you that was making her feel this good brought you right where you needed. you felt that feeling spread from your pussy throughout your whole body. “shit— i’m cumming!” you cried out.

billie only responded with a low guttural moan, grabbing onto your thighs as she came undone beneath you as well. her thighs shook as she cried out head thrown back against the couch with a blinding wave of pleasure crashing through her.

after the minute of whimpers and whines had passed, you had collapsed on top of billie, breathless and exhausted.

you didn’t know what to say. you both were a bit quiet for a moment before billie spoke up, breaking the silence. “this changes things, right?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

you nodded slowly, “yeah.” swallowing harshly you continued. “but i don’t think it’s a bad thing.” you admitted, mostly to yourself.

billie nodded, “it’s not.” her quiet voice was so soft. “it just feels different.” her thumb rubbing circles over your skin.

you agreed, your nerves still swarming inside you but billie was able to calm you down. “yeah, it is different.” you moved the blanket so that it covered you both, your naked skin in contact with hers.

billie shifted slightly still feeling unsettled. her movement was slow like she didn’t want to freak you out or startle you. she reached for your hand lacing them together, “are you okay?”

you hesitated, your eyes dropping to your intertwined hands. “i think so… it’s just a lot. i didn’t expect this y’know? i mean, i’ve always felt close to you but this — it’s new and kinda scary.”

billie gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “it’s scary for me too.” she admitted. “but that’s okay because we don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

you looked up and made eye contact with her finally seeing her face in full. “you make it sound so easy.” you whispered, feeling her so close.

she chuckled cuddling closer to you. “its not simple but if we have each other and we promise to always be there and be honest with each other, we’ll be okay.” her hand rested on your cheek.

you nodded leaning into her soft touch. “one step at a time.” you stated.

billie smiled. “exactly, so first step, how about we finish these snacks and instead make this a date? another movie?”

you looked in between her eyes before nodding. “i’d definitely like that.” you spoke softly. in response, she leaned down and pecked your lips softly.

© 𝐬𝐥𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞

[moonlightcycle571]

Captain Marvel not understanding anything about technology yet somehow being a technopath

I think it should be established that Billy Batson knows nothing about technology. He was stuck in the time bubble for over 50 years, and even then (before during and after), he’s a street kid. Man’s still on radio and old vehicles.

Every time she leaned something slightly techie, he gets flabbergasted. Mispronounces the name of so many machines and has no idea what’s the differences between an IPod and an IPhone. He understands even less why Sam’s song is beefing with an apple???

Having said that, Captain Marvel can be terrifyingly proficient in tech at random times, and the reasoning behind it is so dumb that any tech-savie person in the vicinity are either banging their heads or foaming in jealousy.

Electrics use electricity. Cap is technically Living Lightning. And magical. All Cap needs to do is think about something for it to appear in the nearest screens.

Batman: the access to the security are heavily locked and would take to much time to enter from the outside

Marvel: I got it! *camera footage appear on the screen*

Batman: hn?

*or*

Oracle: I need to bypass multiple firewalls. The coding is so complex, but if you give me ten minutes-

Marvel: oh it’s cool *waves his hand*

Oracle: …

Oracle: did you crack the code by waving your hand…

Marvel: yeah I just swishes off the weird blocks

Oracle, inwardly: THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

Oracle, outwardly: *noticeably restrained* cool 🙂

*Or*

Marvel: Hey Vic, do you want to get milkshakes?

Cyborg: I can’t, the father box is acting up. I’ve been glitching all day.

Marvel: oh let me help

Cyborg: you can’t just-

Marvel: *slaps Victors shoulder* there!

Cyborg: … how???

Marvel: I asked nicely! 😁

Cyborg: I’m going to die now

Bonus:

Somewhere in a dark unused part of the watchtower, many capes gathered.

Barbara Gordon: Today we will welcome a new member to our support group. Introduce yourself, tell us why you’re here and will can start the meeting.

Roy Harper: Hi, I’m Arsenal, and today Captain Marvel broke my grenade launcher. He then felt bad and made me a pocket rocket launcher. Meaning it’s a rocket launcher but when I press a button, it turns into a small box for me to carry around. I asked him why make a rocket launcher and not a grenade launcher, and he asked me what’s the difference.

*echoes of ‘oooh’ and ‘welcome to the club’*

Tim Drake: I taught him on how to set a Facebook account and helped him set his profile. I go out to get an energy drink. I come back and he’s hacking conversations of the mafia, giving me info on the trafficking ring I’ve been tracking for a month.

*sympathising nods from everyone*

Jaime Reyes: Last Thursday, my scarab got scratched and was having trouble repairing itself. Marvel came in and put a bandaid on it. The worse part is… it actually worked.

*cue groans through out the room*

[gyu-tori]

The Only Gift That Matters | Y.JW

A Birthday Special

Pairing: idol!jungwonx fem!reader Genre: FLUFF!!

Summary: After his final tour performance, Jungwon expects a simple celebration—until he walks in and finds you waiting for him. With the help of his meddling members, you’ve flown across the world to surprise him on his birthday, turning an ordinary night into one he’ll never forget.

Word Count: 6.4k

The deafening cheers of thousands of ENGENEs still echoed in Jungwon’s ears as he walked offstage, his heart hammering in his chest. The adrenaline of performing had yet to fully subside, leaving his body buzzing with energy despite the exhaustion creeping into his limbs. Sweat clung to his skin, the fabric of his stage outfit slightly damp from the hours of dancing and singing under the bright, flashing lights.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling deeply as he stepped into the backstage area, the distant sound of fans still chanting his name beyond the arena walls. The final show of the tour was over. Just like that.

Jungwon felt a strange mix of pride and relief settle in his chest. The months of rehearsals, traveling, and performing in different cities had been exhausting, but it was all worth it for the moments he got to share with the fans. Now, as the weight of the past few weeks settled on him, he realized just how drained he was.

The other members were already backstage, toweling off sweat and chugging water bottles as staff buzzed around them, congratulating them on another successful concert.

“Damn, that was crazy,” Jay muttered, shaking out his arms as he collapsed onto one of the couches. “The energy tonight was insane.”

Sunghoon nodded, still catching his breath. “I swear, they were even louder than last night.”

“Louder than every other stop, honestly,” Sunoo chimed in, giggling as he wiped his face with a towel. “My ears are still ringing.”

Jungwon smiled at their words, a sense of warmth spreading through him. He loved that no matter how exhausting things got, they could all share these moments together.

“You good, Won?” Heeseung’s voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention.

Jungwon blinked, realizing he had been standing still for a moment too long. “Yeah,” he nodded, offering a tired smile. “Just taking it all in.”

Ni-ki slung an arm over his shoulders with a grin. “You should. It’s your birthday, Hyung!”

Jungwon chuckled at the nickname. It had started as a joke because of his leader status, but over time, it had stuck. He shook his head playfully. “It’s just another day.”

The members collectively groaned.

“Bro, don’t say that,” Jake protested, nudging him. “It’s your birthday, AND you just finished performing for engenes. We have to celebrate.”

Jungwon laughed, shaking his head again, though he appreciated their enthusiasm. “We’ll see.”

Unknown to him, his members were all exchanging knowing glances. They were doing their best to act casual, but Jungwon was too exhausted to notice the small smirks, the barely concealed excitement in their eyes.

Something was definitely up. But for now, Jungwon was just grateful for a moment to breathe.

Earlier that day, long before Jungwon stepped off the concert stage drenched in sweat and glowing with the high of performing, you had landed in the city, excitement and nerves warring inside your chest.

You had spent weeks planning this trip, coordinating your schedule around his tour, booking flights, and making sure everything was set up perfectly. The hardest part, though, had been keeping it a secret.

Jungwon wasn’t the type to ask too many questions, but he always had a way of sensing when something was up. That’s what made this surprise so difficult to pull off—because if anyone knew you well enough to figure out when you were hiding something, it was him.

Luckily, you had an accomplice.

“Flight’s on time. You should be landing in the afternoon,” Heeseung had texted you the night before. “I’ll make sure Jungwon’s distracted.”

You had smiled at the message, grateful beyond words. Heeseung had been your lifeline in pulling this off.

And now, after hours of flying and navigating through airport crowds, you were finally here, standing in a quiet hallway backstage, hidden from view as the concert continued just beyond the walls.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, fingers tightening around the handle of your small carry-on bag. Even though you had traveled all this way, the nerves had only grown stronger.

What if he was too tired to enjoy the surprise? What if he was overwhelmed? What if—

“Stop overthinking,” Heeseung’s voice cut through your thoughts, his usual teasing lilt present as he approached you from around the corner.

You let out a breath, forcing a small laugh. “I can’t help it.”

He smirked. “You think Jungwon’s not gonna be the happiest man alive when he sees you? Please.”

The words made your heart warm, but the nerves remained. “I just want it to be perfect.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully, then reached for your bag. “Come on, let’s get you set up before he gets suspicious.”

You let him take it, following him as he led you through the backstage area with practiced ease. The energy in the venue was electric—staff members moving in and out of rooms, the faint sound of Jungwon’s voice echoing from the stage as he spoke to the fans.

The reality of just how close you were to him hit you hard.

A whole month had passed since you last saw Jungwon in person. Video calls and texts only did so much when all you really wanted was to be by his side, to feel the warmth of his presence, to hear his laughter without a screen separating you.

And now, in just a short while, he would be standing in front of you again.

Heeseung must have sensed your growing emotions because he nudged you lightly. “Hey, don’t cry yet. You still gotta make it through the surprise.”

You let out a watery chuckle, wiping at your eyes. “I’m not crying.”

“Not yet,” he corrected, grinning.

You shook your head at him, but you were grateful for his humor—it made everything feel a little easier.

Heeseung led you to one of the smaller backstage rooms, where a few staff members were already setting up the decorations. The other members had given their input earlier, making sure everything was just right.

A string of warm fairy lights hung around the room, casting a cozy glow. A table had been set up with a beautifully decorated cake, simple but elegant, with “Happy Birthday, Leader Won!” written in icing.

A large banner stretched across one wall, displaying the same message in bold, playful letters.

The sight made your heart swell. Jungwon wasn’t the type to demand grand celebrations, but that was exactly why you wanted to make sure he had one. He deserved to be showered with love, to be reminded of how much he meant to everyone around him.

“You guys really went all out,” you murmured, taking it all in.

Heeseung shrugged. “Of course. We have to make sure our leader feels special.”

You smiled, running your fingers lightly over the edge of the table. “He’s going to love this.”

Heeseung clapped his hands together. “Okay, so here’s the plan. Jungwon’s still out there, finishing up the concert. Once he comes backstage, he’ll head to the dressing room to cool down, right?”

You nodded, already knowing his post-concert routine.

Heeseung continued. “While he’s in there, we’ll gather everyone here, and when he walks in, we’ll hit him with the surprise. You’ll be hiding behind the curtain until I give you the signal.”

Your stomach flipped. “Got it.”

He gave you a once-over, then smirked. “You look nervous.”

“I am nervous,” you admitted with a small laugh.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me, the moment he sees you, he won’t care about anything else.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, nodding. “I hope so.”

Heeseung grinned. “Oh, and by the way—you owe me for this. Big time.”

You laughed. “I’ll buy you dinner, okay?”

“Dinner and bubble tea.”

“Fine.”

Heeseung looked satisfied with that, then glanced at the clock. “Alright, we have about fifteen minutes before he comes offstage. You ready?”

You took a deep breath, placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity.

You stood behind the thick black curtain in the small backstage lounge, nerves bubbling under your skin as the final notes of the encore song faded. The sound of thousands of ENGENEs screaming filled the venue, their voices blending into a beautiful, deafening chorus.

Jungwon was still out there, soaking in the last moments of the tour with his members, saying his final thank-yous to the fans. He was probably bowing now, flashing that tired but grateful smile that you had seen so many times in videos and pictures. Only this time, you weren’t watching from a screen. You were here.

Heeseung had disappeared momentarily to check on the progress, leaving you alone in your hiding spot. Your hands trembled slightly as you smoothed down your outfit, making sure everything was perfect.

The thought of seeing Jungwon after a whole month had your heart racing. Would he cry? Would he be too overwhelmed? You knew how much he tried to hold back his emotions sometimes, especially when it came to himself. He always put others first, always prioritized his members, his fans, his work.

But tonight, tonight was about him.

A soft rustling sound snapped you out of your thoughts, and then Heeseung’s voice came from the other side of the curtain. “Showtime.”

You swallowed hard. “He’s coming?”

“Yup. He’s in the dressing room now, freshening up. We have about five minutes before he walks in.”

You nodded, inhaling deeply to steady yourself. “Okay.”

The room outside was already set. The other members had gathered, all of them doing their best to act casual, but you could hear the suppressed excitement in their voices.

“Don’t act weird, guys,” Jake whispered. “He’ll know something’s up.”

“Dude, just stand normal,” Sunghoon replied.

“What does ‘stand normal’ even mean?” Jay shot back.

A soft whack sound followed. “Ow, Sunoo!”

“Shut up and just smile,” Sunoo hissed.

You pressed a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. It was almost funny how much effort they were putting into this. Jungwon would probably be too exhausted to even notice at first, but knowing how sharp he was, you wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up on their energy.

Still, the setup was perfect.

The fairy lights gave the room a warm, inviting glow, casting soft shadows on the walls. The cake sat neatly on the table, an elegant white-frosted design with subtle gold accents. The words Happy Birthday, Captain! were written in neat cursive, surrounded by tiny edible stars. The members had insisted on keeping the decorations simple—nothing too over-the-top, but still meaningful.

And then there was the banner.

A large, hand-painted sign stretched across the back wall, filled with personal messages from the members. Little doodles of Jungwon’s favorite things were scattered across it—his favorite snacks, his beloved cat-shaped drawings, even a small, cartoon version of himself.

It was the kind of effort that showed just how much they loved him.

You smiled to yourself, already imagining the look on his face.

A sudden shuffle of footsteps in the hallway made your breath hitch.

“Oh, oh, he’s coming—”

“Positions, everyone!”

You quickly pressed yourself further into the corner, holding your breath. The curtain concealed you entirely, and from this angle, you had a perfect view of the entrance.

The door handle turned.

For a moment, silence filled the room, thick with anticipation. Then, the door swung open and the room fell into an instant hush.

Jungwon stepped inside, still towel-drying his damp hair, his oversized black t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame. His post-performance glow was evident—cheeks flushed, eyes slightly dazed from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

He blinked at the sight before him.

The members stood scattered around the room, trying way too hard to act normal. Jay was casually leaning against a table—except his elbow slipped, nearly knocking over a bottle of water. Sunghoon looked suspiciously stiff, like he had rehearsed his “natural” stance too many times. Ni-ki was covering his mouth, eyes already sparkling with suppressed laughter.

Jungwon frowned slightly. Something is up.

Then, his gaze landed on the fairy lights, the cake, and finally, the massive Happy Birthday, Leader Won! banner staring back at him.

Before he could process it, the members erupted into cheers.

“Surprise!”

Jungwon flinched at the sudden noise, nearly dropping his towel. “What the—” He looked around, squinting. “What’s going on?”

“You really thought we wouldn’t do anything for your birthday?” Jake smirked, stepping forward to throw an arm around Jungwon’s shoulders.

Jungwon scoffed. “I knew you guys were being weird today.”

“Define weird,” Sunghoon said innocently, shifting slightly to block the suitcase near the couch.

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. “You were all too normal.”

“Bro, we’re always normal,” Jay deadpanned.

“I stand by it.”

The members cackled.

Heeseung, who had been standing off to the side with his arms crossed, finally spoke up. “Actually…” He smirked. “We have one more present for you.”

Jungwon groaned dramatically, rubbing his face. “Please tell me it’s not another embarrassing video montage—”

“Oh, it’s better.”

Before Jungwon could question it, Heeseung gave a small nod toward the curtain.

That was your cue.

You stepped out, heart hammering against your ribs as you finally locked eyes with Jungwon.

For a moment, time seemed to stop.

Jungwon’s entire body went rigid. His mouth parted slightly. His hands, which had been resting at his sides, twitched like his brain was struggling to send a signal. His chest rose and fell with an unsteady breath.

The members were watching eagerly, as if they were witnessing a dramatic K-drama finale.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, Jungwon finally found his voice.

“…Wait.”

His voice cracked slightly.

Ni-ki snorted.

Jungwon’s gaze darted from your face to the suitcase near the couch, then back to you. His lips parted again, but all that came out was:

“HUH?”

The room erupted.

Sunoo doubled over, clutching his stomach. Jake fell onto the couch, wheezing. Ni-ki looked like he was about to pass out from laughing.

Jungwon, however, remained frozen.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you stepped closer. “Surprise.”

That was all it took.

Jungwon suddenly lunged.

He reached you in seconds, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that your feet nearly left the ground. A startled laugh escaped you as you stumbled backward slightly, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“You—You’re really here?” His voice was muffled against your shoulder, trembling slightly.

You nodded against him, your heart swelling. “I’m here.”

Jungwon pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes wide and glassy. “You… You really flew all this way? Just for me?”

You smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything.”

Jungwon exhaled sharply, like he was still trying to process it. Behind him, the members were still enjoying the show.

Jake wiped away fake tears. “This is beautiful.”

“He’s in shock,” Sunghoon whispered.

“No thoughts. Head empty,” Ni-ki added.

Jungwon ignored them, his hands still gripping your arms as if grounding himself.

“You okay?” you asked, pressing a hand to his cheek.

He blinked slowly. “No. I think I’m malfunctioning.”

The members lost it again.

Sunoo wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “We’ve lost our leader, everyone.”

Heeseung clapped Jungwon’s back. “A thank you would be nice.”

Jungwon finally tore his gaze away from you to glare at him. “Shut up.”

You giggled, reaching up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

Jungwon let out a small, breathless laugh, finally pulling you into another tight hug. “This is the best birthday ever.”

The members groaned loudly.

“Oh my god, he’s so whipped,” Jay muttered.

“Just now realizing that?” Sunghoon scoffed.

You laughed against Jungwon’s shoulder, feeling his grip tighten just a little more.

And in that moment, you knew—no matter how much they teased him, no matter how chaotic things got—this was exactly where you were meant to be.

—

Jungwon still hadn’t let go of you.

It had been a full minute since the initial shock wore off, but he kept his arms locked around you, his head resting against your shoulder like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“Okay, we get it, you missed her,” Jay teased, breaking the silence.

Jungwon finally pulled back—just enough to turn and glare at him. “Shut up, Jay.”

Jay smirked. “You’re not even denying it.”

“Because it’s true,” Heeseung added with a knowing grin.

Jungwon sighed, shaking his head before turning back to you. His hands stayed on your arms, his touch warm and grounding. “How long are you staying?”

You smiled. “A few days.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed. “Good.” Then, quieter, just for you, he murmured, “I don’t want you to leave too soon.”

Your heart melted.

Before you could respond, Ni-ki clapped his hands together. “Alright, lovebirds, we do have a cake waiting.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically but finally—reluctantly—let you go. You laughed at the way he immediately reached for your hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours as he turned to face the rest of the group.

Jake grinned. “Alright, birthday boy, make a wish.”

Sunghoon nudged him. “You don’t need to. Your biggest wish literally just walked in.”

The members groaned at the cheesiness, but Jungwon?

He just smiled.

You swore his grip on your hand tightened slightly.

With a soft chuckle, he stepped forward to the table, staring at the cake. The warm fairy lights made the white frosting glow softly, and the words Happy Birthday, Captain! stood out in elegant cursive.

Jungwon exhaled deeply. “This is really nice, guys.”

Sunoo beamed. “Of course. You deserve it.”

Jungwon gave him a small, grateful smile before closing his eyes for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he blew out the candles.

The room erupted into cheers.

“Yay, our leader is another year older!” Ni-ki teased.

“Another year shorter,” Sunghoon muttered under his breath.

Jungwon turned to glare at him. “I heard that.”

Sunghoon just smirked. “Oops.”

Jake started cutting the cake while Jay grabbed plates. You watched as Jungwon let himself fully relax, laughing as his members playfully fought over who got the biggest slice.

Sunoo dramatically gasped. “Ni-ki, put that piece back, you gremlin!”

Ni-ki, holding an unfairly large slice, grinned. “Finders keepers.”

Sunghoon looked horrified. “That’s a quarter of the cake, you menace.”

Jungwon just laughed, shaking his head. “It’s fine, just take another slice.”

“You’re too nice,” you teased, nudging him. “If that were me, I would’ve smacked it out of his hands.”

Jungwon turned to you with a grin. “Noted for future cake disputes.”

Heeseung passed you both plates, and as Jungwon took his first bite, a soft sigh of satisfaction left his lips. “Wow.” He looked up at the members. “This is really good.”

“Sunoo picked it,” Jay said, nodding.

Sunoo flipped his hair dramatically. “I do have excellent taste.”

Jungwon chuckled, turning back to you. “You should try it.”

He picked up a small forkful and, without thinking, held it up to your lips.

The entire room fell into scandalized silence.

Jake gasped. “Oh my god.”

Sunghoon looked personally attacked. “In front of my salad?”

Ni-ki fake gagged. “Not at the dinner table, guys.”

Jungwon froze.

His ears turned bright red.

You, however, decided to play along. Maintaining eye contact, you leaned in, taking the bite off his fork.

Jungwon’s jaw visibly clenched. His eyes darted to the members, all of whom were staring.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You didn’t even hesitate.”

Jungwon cleared his throat. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

Ni-ki smirked. “Oh, it’s too late for that.”

Sunoo placed a hand over his heart. “I never thought I’d see the day our little leader would be out here doing—” He waved a hand dramatically. “—something so scandalous in front of us.”

Sunghoon sighed. “They grow up so fast.”

Jungwon groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I hate all of you.”

You giggled, leaning closer. “But you love me, right?”

Jungwon sighed dramatically before dropping his hand and looking at you. A soft smile played on his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah. I do.”

The members groaned in unison.

“Oh my god,” Jay muttered, stuffing cake into his mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Ni-ki fake sniffled. “Our fearless leader has fallen.”

Jungwon just rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. He squeezed your hand gently before turning back to his cake.

The celebration had finally started winding down.

The cake had been demolished (mostly by Ni-ki, who had somehow managed to sneak extra slices despite Sunoo’s watchful gaze). The members were still playfully bickering about who gave Jungwon the best present, and the room was filled with warmth and laughter.

But even with all the noise, Jungwon hadn’t let go of your hand.

Every few minutes, you’d feel his thumb brush over your skin absentmindedly, as if making sure you were still there. If he wasn’t holding your hand, his knee was pressed against yours, his body always leaning just slightly in your direction.

You didn’t mind one bit.

Eventually, the members started cleaning up, throwing away plates and clearing the table. Jungwon had been watching them work for a grand total of two minutes before Heeseung pointed at him.

“Not so fast, birthday boy. You’re helping.”

Jungwon groaned, leaning against you dramatically. “It’s my birthday. Shouldn’t I be exempt from this?”

“Yeah, no,” Jay deadpanned, tossing him an empty cup. “If we suffer, you suffer.”

Jungwon sighed but stood up, squeezing your hand one last time before letting go. “I’ll be back soon,” he murmured.

You smiled. “I’ll be right here.”

As he walked off to help, you watched him fondly. Even exhausted, he still tried to pull his weight, stacking plates and picking up napkins.

It wasn’t long before Heeseung shot you a knowing look from across the room. “You should steal him away for a bit.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. We got this. Go be disgusting somewhere else.”

You snorted, shaking your head before making your way toward Jungwon. He had just finished setting a stack of plates on the counter when you slipped your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head against his back.

He stiffened for a split second before instantly relaxing, his hands moving to rest over yours.

“Come with me,” you murmured.

Jungwon turned his head slightly, curiosity in his eyes. “Where?”

You just smiled. “You’ll see.”

The members noticed, of course.

“Aww, look at them,” Ni-ki cooed.

Jake sighed dramatically. “I wish someone would whisk me away like that.”

Sunghoon smirked. “We could, but you’d just come back in five minutes crying about how much you miss us.”

Jake gasped. “That happened one time.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes but tugged you toward the hallway before they could tease either of you further.

The two of you ended up in a quieter part of the backstage area, away from the noise. The air felt different here—quieter, softer, more intimate.

Jungwon sighed as he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “Finally. A moment of peace.”

You smiled, stepping closer. “Tired?”

He tilted his head in thought before shaking it. “Not anymore.”

His eyes softened as he reached for your hand again. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

You squeezed his fingers gently. “I wanted to be.”

Jungwon studied you for a long moment, then—slowly—he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gesture was so sweet, so tender, that your breath hitched.

His gaze flickered up, watching your reaction. When he saw your expression, he grinned. “What? I’m not allowed to be romantic?”

You laughed softly. “You are romantic. Just usually in a really awkward, flustered way.”

Jungwon groaned. “You just had to ruin my smooth moment, huh?”

You giggled, reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “Sorry, sorry. You were very smooth. Super charming.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, leaning into your touch. “Better.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, soaking in the silence. It felt surreal—to be here with him after so long, with no screen between you, no time zone difference, no calls cutting in and out. Just him.

Jungwon sighed contently. “This is the best birthday ever.”

You tilted your head. “Because of the concert?”

He shook his head immediately. “No.” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Because you’re here.”

Your heart swelled.

“You’re really sappy today,” you teased, though your voice was soft.

Jungwon chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Take it while you can.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

Jungwon’s eyes softened as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for making it perfect.”

And for the first time that night, no one interrupted.

After a long night of performing, celebrating, and being relentlessly teased by his members, Jungwon was finally free.

The two of you had slipped out of the venue while the others were still cleaning up, leaving behind the chaos and noise for the quiet comfort of the van. The moment you slid into the backseat, Jungwon immediately followed, settling in beside you.

The city lights flickered outside as the car pulled onto the road, the soft hum of the engine filling the space. The energy from the concert still lingered in the air, but exhaustion was creeping in, making everything feel a little hazy.

Jungwon let out a deep sigh, leaning back against the seat. “I can finally breathe.”

You giggled. “Are you saying your own birthday party was suffocating?”

He turned his head toward you, eyes heavy with fatigue but filled with warmth. “Not the party. Just them.”

From the front seat, Heeseung—who had offered to ride with you two—cleared his throat. “I can hear you, by the way.”

Jungwon groaned, closing his eyes. “I know. That’s why I said it.”

Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh. “This is how you treat your beloved hyung? After I singlehandedly orchestrated your entire surprise?”

You grinned. “To be fair, he does have a point, Won.”

Jungwon opened one eye, narrowing it at you. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

You shrugged. “He’s my partner-in-crime. I have to give him some credit.”

Heeseung smirked. “Exactly. Someone appreciates my hard work.”

Jungwon let out a dramatic sigh before turning back to you. “Fine. Thank you, Heeseung-hyung. You’re the best hyung in the world. I’m eternally grateful.”

His tone was so robotic that Heeseung actually gagged. “Okay, never mind. I take back everything. You’re ungrateful.”

You burst into laughter as Jungwon smirked in victory.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence, the van rocking gently as it cruised through the city. You glanced at Jungwon, noticing how his body had started to relax completely, his head resting against the seat. His eyes blinked slower, his grip on your hand loosening just slightly.

“You’re exhausted,” you murmured.

Jungwon hummed sleepily. “Mhm.”

You ran your fingers gently through his damp hair, feeling him melt into your touch. “You should sleep.”

“Not yet,” he mumbled, blinking up at you with a lazy smile. “Wanna spend every second with you tonight.”

Your heart clenched at the softness in his voice.

“Jungwon,” you whispered, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

He hummed again, eyes half-lidded.

“You’ll still have me tomorrow,” you promised. “And the day after that.”

His lips curled into a small smile. “Good.”

Heeseung, who had been minding his business, suddenly spoke. “I am still here, by the way.”

Jungwon groaned. “Hyung, please.”

Heeseung snorted. “Nah, it’s fine. I love being a third wheel. Really. It’s my favorite thing.”

You giggled as Jungwon shot him a glare, but the moment was short-lived—because not even Heeseung’s teasing could stop Jungwon’s body from shutting down.

Within minutes, his head slowly tilted to the side, resting against your shoulder.

You glanced down, only to find him fully asleep, his breathing deep and steady.

Your heart softened.

Carefully, you adjusted yourself so he could be more comfortable, wrapping an arm around him. He instinctively nuzzled closer, his fingers loosely curling around the fabric of your sleeve.

Heeseung peeked at the rearview mirror and smirked. “Wow. Out cold.”

You smiled, running your fingers through Jungwon’s hair again. “He worked hard today.”

Heeseung nodded. “Yeah… but also, he’s just really whipped.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I know.”

The car continued rolling through the city, the lights casting soft glows across Jungwon’s peaceful face.

And in that moment, you realized something.

For all the teasing, for all the chaos, for all the exhaustion—this was perfect.

Jungwon had his fans. His members. His music.

And now, he had you, too.

And that was all that mattered.

By the time the van pulled up to the hotel entrance, Jungwon was completely out.

His head was still resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your collarbone, his body pressed comfortably against yours. Every few minutes, his fingers would twitch slightly—like he was still subconsciously holding onto you even in sleep.

You smiled softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Won, we’re here.”

Nothing.

Heeseung leaned over from the front seat, peering at Jungwon’s sleeping form. He raised an eyebrow. “Is he even breathing?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Heeseung. He’s just exhausted.”

“Hmm.” Heeseung poked Jungwon’s arm. “Hey, birthday boy. Wake up.”

Jungwon didn’t even stir.

You giggled. “Heeseung, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

“Watch and learn.” Heeseung cleared his throat and said, in a serious voice, “Jungwon-ah, staff said we need to redo the encore performance. Get up.”

Jungwon immediately twitched.

You and Heeseung watched in real-time as his eyes fluttered open, his body tensing slightly—until he finally registered his surroundings.

Then, he groaned and buried his face back into your shoulder. “Hyung, I hate you.”

Heeseung burst out laughing. “Hey, at least now you’re awake.”

Jungwon muttered something under his breath that was definitely not PG-rated, but it only made Heeseung laugh harder.

You giggled, rubbing Jungwon’s back soothingly. “Come on, love. Let’s get you inside.”

With a dramatic sigh, Jungwon finally sat up, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. His hair was slightly messy from sleeping on you, and his voice was adorably raspy when he mumbled, “Carry me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Heeseung snorted. “Yeah, no. You’re on your own, dude.”

Jungwon pouted but ultimately sighed in defeat, dragging himself out of the van. The moment you both stepped into the hotel lobby, the warm air hit your skin, the dim lighting making everything feel cozier.

The staff greeted Jungwon quietly, congratulating him on his performance before directing you both to his room. Heeseung, finally finished with his babysitting duties, stretched his arms. “Alright, lovebirds, I’m out. Try not to be too disgusting.”

Jungwon yawned, waving him off. “Goodnight, hyung.”

You grinned. “Thanks for everything, Heeseung.”

Heeseung winked before disappearing down the hall, leaving you and Jungwon standing outside his hotel room.

Jungwon sighed, fumbling with the key card. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out the second I hit the bed.”

You smirked. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, but I also don’t want to waste time with you,” he murmured, finally pushing the door open.

Your heart softened at his words.

The hotel room was spacious, modern, and filled with warm lighting. A massive king-sized bed took up most of the space, the blankets neatly arranged. Jungwon immediately kicked off his shoes, stretching his arms with a groan before flopping onto the bed face-first.

You laughed. “That tired, huh?”

His voice was muffled against the pillow. “I can’t move.”

You shook your head fondly, setting your bag down before sitting beside him on the mattress. “Want me to get you some water?”

He turned his head slightly, cracking one eye open. “Just lay with me.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. “Bossy.”

Still, you didn’t argue. You kicked off your shoes, shifting onto the bed beside him. The moment you did, Jungwon instinctively rolled over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

His warmth, his scent, the steady rise and fall of his chest—it was all so him.

Your fingers gently played with the strands of his hair. “You did amazing today.”

Jungwon hummed sleepily. “Mmm.”

“I mean it,” you whispered. “I watched the whole performance. You were incredible.”

His grip on you tightened slightly, his voice quieter now. “It’s always easier when I know you’re watching.”

Your heart clenched at his words.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, watching as his lips curled into a tiny, sleepy smile.

“Happy birthday, love,” you murmured.

Jungwon let out a deep breath, his body completely relaxing against yours.

And just like that, he fell asleep in your arms.

Jungwon slept soundly for a while, his body finally surrendering to exhaustion. His arms remained wrapped around you, his breathing slow and steady, his face completely at peace.

You didn’t mind one bit.

You stayed there with him, running your fingers through his hair, tracing soft patterns on his back. He looked so soft like this—so young, so free from the pressures of being a leader, a performer, an idol. Right now, he was just Jungwon. Your Jungwon.

Eventually, he stirred, letting out a soft hum as his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at you, dazed and sleepy, before a slow, lazy smile spread across his lips.

“Hey,” he mumbled, voice raspy.

You smiled back. “Hey, birthday boy.”

He groaned, burying his face into your neck. “I’m still not used to hearing that.”

You giggled, rubbing his back. “Well, get used to it. I’m not done celebrating you yet.”

Jungwon lifted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his half-lidded eyes. “What do you mean?”

You reached over to your bag, grabbing the small, neatly wrapped box you had been waiting to give him.

His brows furrowed. “What’s this?”

You handed it to him, watching as he carefully unwrapped it, his fingers gentle as ever. When he finally opened the box, his breath hitched.

Inside was a simple silver bracelet, sleek and minimalistic—just his style. But what made it special was the small engraving on the inside.

My home, my heart—always yours.

Jungwon stared at it for a long moment, his fingers tracing over the words. His lips parted slightly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

You bit your lip. “Do you like it?”

Silence.

Then, Jungwon inhaled sharply, closing the box with a snap before you could see his face.

“Jungwon?”

Still no response.

Then, to your absolute horror, he turned away from you, shoulders hunched, hands covering his face.

Oh god.

He was crying.

Your heart stopped. “Wait—love, are you okay?”

A muffled, strangled sound came from behind his hands.

Oh no. Oh no, you broke him.

You sat up quickly, placing a hand on his back. “Jungwon, I—”

“Give me a second,” he croaked.

You blinked. “What?”

“I just—” He sucked in a breath, shoulders shaking slightly. “I need a second.”

You pursed your lips, biting back a smile. “Are you crying right now?”

“No.” His voice cracked.

You giggled, rubbing circles on his back. “You are crying.”

Jungwon finally turned to you, eyes red and glassy, cheeks flushed. “I am not crying.”

A single tear rolled down his cheek.

You stared.

He stared back.

“…Shut up,” he muttered.

You burst out laughing, and that was officially the last straw for Jungwon. With a groan, he flopped back onto the bed, throwing a pillow over his face.

“Oh my god,” he groaned. “I hate you.”

You were still giggling as you pried the pillow away. “You love me.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically, but his lips curled into a soft smile. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

Your heart swelled as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his forehead. “Then keep it on forever, okay?”

Jungwon sat up slightly, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist. He stared at it for a long moment before turning to you, his expression completely soft.

“I will.”

And somehow, you knew he meant it.

Jungwon was still staring at the bracelet on his wrist, turning it slightly under the warm hotel room lights. His fingers traced the engraving again, as if memorizing the feel of it.

You watched him with a soft smile, resting your chin on your palm. “You’re still thinking about it, huh?”

He blinked up at you, lips slightly parted before he nodded. “Yeah.”

Your fingers reached out to gently take his hand, brushing your thumb over the bracelet. “You really like it?”

Jungwon huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I love it.” Then, quieter, he murmured, “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You knew he loved you—he had shown it in so many ways, in his small gestures, his thoughtful words, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world. But hearing him say it so plainly, so softly, with the weight of today still lingering in the air, made warmth bloom in your chest.

You leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips. It was slow, unhurried—like the both of you had all the time in the world. Jungwon sighed into the kiss, his fingers curling around your wrist, grounding himself in you.

When you finally pulled away, he was gazing at you with sleep-heavy eyes, his expression completely open and vulnerable.

You nudged his nose playfully. “Sleep, birthday boy.”

Jungwon groaned but obediently flopped back onto the bed, pulling you down with him. His arms wrapped around your waist, his body molding perfectly against yours.

You laughed softly. “Comfortable?”

He let out a content sigh, nuzzling into your neck. “Mhm.”

The steady sound of his breathing filled the room, and you felt his body fully relax against yours. His fingers were still loosely intertwined with yours, his grip soft but steady—like even in sleep, he didn’t want to let go.

You pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, whispering, “Sweet dreams, birthday boy.”

And just like that, Jungwon drifted off, the softest smile still lingering on his lips.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: I MADE IT ON TIME TO SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE YANG JUNGWON! He's been killing my heart so much recently~ He needs to give me a break or I'll start dropping on my knees for him. ALSO!! First enhypen fic so I hope you guys enjoy hehe~ This was very rushed so lmk if there are any errors or mistakes!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp @ode2soob

[dinogoofymutated]

Nightcrawler/GN!Reader The first Fic of the season is here!!! I'll go ahead an outright say that the other fic will NOT be this long and this in-depth. This one took me literally the whole month of september when it was only supposed to take me two weeks. I'm going to do my best to make sure that the other fics come out on time, but please have a little patience with me ;-; Also, This fic has not been beta read bc it is an absolute beast at 8k words (at least for me), so if anything seems off, or the ending was too abrupts, don't be mean lol.

You've recently moved into an old, spooky mansion that your great-aunt left you in her will. It's been uninhabited for years but is strangely well-kept. You're sure you live here alone, but every once in a while you can't shake the feeling of being watched…

Tws: Demons, stereotypical witchcraft, Alcohol consumption, Graphic depictions of blood and wounds for a minute, I'll add more if I can think of any.

    When the keys are plopped carelessly into your hands, they’re cold. They’re still cold, two weeks later when you finish moving in. It wasn't a fancy affair, no movers or big trucks, just some friends and the van they borrowed from the school. Truthfully, you didn’t really have a lot anyway. Most of them had honestly only shown up to offer their condolences for your loss.

    Your groceries feel heavier than normal when you set them on the kitchen counter, stepping back with a sigh. Never in your wildest dreams would you have even imagined of living in a place like this. You’d never even visited Aunt Maude’s house- Your, house. Sure, you and the rest of the family all knew she was well-off, but no one had a clue that when the will was read she had left you a Victorian-era mansion along with her estate. Even you hadn’t until you googled her address after the lawyer gave you the keys. 

    As surprising as it was, it was definitely your Great-Aunt Maude’s house. Every bathroom, bedroom, living space, You could see her in all of it. She was kooky and eclectic, with a love for all things strange and unusual. It was comforting, almost. To be wrapped in a house filled with the remnants of your aunt. Your eyes sting as you begin to fill up the long empty fridge, organizing it to your liking. You close the door and see your graduation photos stuck to it, along with a photo strip from the photo booth she dragged you into at your sweet sixteen. You suck in a shakey sob, tears welling in your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. You’re sad, and exhausted, and you haven't even unpacked yet, most of your belongings set in boxes in the Sitting room and Hallway.  But you just… couldn’t bring yourself to bother. Everything that was cold was already put in the fridge, so you decided the rest can wait till the morning.

    You trudge up the stairs with as much energy as you can muster, and when you finally make it to the master bedroom, you’re ready to pass out. The room is decorated in a way that feels much more like you than it felt like your Aunt, and you notice that the quilt on the bed was one she had shown you at Christmas one year. One you told her you very much envied. It was like she had made the room your own before she even stepped foot into the nursing home. The thought is enough to choke you up again. You crawl underneath the soft covers in a pretty pitiful manner, falling asleep almost immediately. 

    It’s only when you wake up the next morning that you start to notice something strange about this house. 

    The kitchen is a somewhat long walk from the upstares bedroom, and you’re basically starving by the time you get downstairs. You yawn as you grab the milk out of the fridge, still feeling half asleep as you turn around to grab the cereal off the counter only to find it… gone. In fact, all of the groceries you had left on the counter yesterday were gone.

     The realization is like a shot of ice through your veins. What the fuck?… You must have put them away last night, right? But you knew they were on the counter when you went to bed. You feel like you’re going to throw up, thinking about the chance that a burglar had broken in last night and you hadn’t heard it because you were upstairs. You sprint to the sitting room taking note of all your boxes and things, making sure to double-check that your TV was actually there and not a figment of your imagination, but it was definitely solid. You cautiously walk back to the kitchen, staring at the pantry door for an anxious moment before biting the bullet and swiftly opening it.

    All your groceries were in place. All are organized neatly exactly where you would have preferred them to be. Strange. You must have woken up last night and done it. Right? It wouldn’t be too absurd to assume you had put the groceries away half-asleep and forgotten about it. That had to be it. It’s not like someone broke in last night just to put your groceries away. Now that was just plain ridiculous. 

    From then on out, The strange things only seemed to continue.

    Sure, a house this old wasn’t without a general peculiarity about it, but after being told it hadn’t been inhabited since Aunt Maude put herself into inpatient care, it should be dusty, right? A home of this size, cluttered with the many odds and ends she had collected over the years? You’d never heard of a house that could dust itself. Your hands wander more than ever as you traverse the mansion, they run down the banister, across the pretty wallpaper, even taking a swipe at a shelf or two, and still, they’re clean. Not a smudge or spec of dirt on your fingers. 

    Strange, but not unexplainable. Maybe she had scheduled a cleaning service to take place after her death or something. You didn’t know. But a week goes by. Then two and then three, and everything is still spotless. And that was the least of it. Lights seemed to turn off by themselves at night. Things that you’re sure you heard fall were placed upright. If you forgot to turn the oven off, it would already be cool by the time you ran back into the kitchen- and the house constantly smelled like sulfur and brimstone. At this point, you’ve called the fire department so many times worried about a gas leak that they think you’ve gone crazy. 

    You just felt… Uneasy. Like you were being watched.

    “I feel like I’m losing my mind, Jean.” You watch as the redhead tries to hide a smile on the other side of the Facetime call, and you can’t help but pout a little when she inevitably laughs. Your little image on the top part of the camera must look rather ridiculous, hands tangled in some string lights you had found in the closet. As strangely organized and spotless as everything was, it seems that the Christmas lights in the back of the closet weren’t so lucky. Yay for you. 

    “Look, you’re just overthinking things. Don’t stress out about it.” Jean says, ever the voice of reason. You know she’s probably right. “Besides, you’ve been through a lot lately. It’s not abnormal for stress to do weird things to the mind.”

    “Yeah, I guess so.” You mumble. Detangling these lights is beginning to be a bit trickier than you first expected them to be. Each tangle and loop seems to be interconnected, and no matter how gently or firmly you are with the cords, another knot seems to form with every probable success. You sigh in annoyance, and Jean raises an eyebrow at you. 

    “Do I need to ask about the Christmas lights?” You’re about ready to give up on them when she asks, dramatically dropping them in your lap.

    “Well, remember how I was gonna throw that big Halloween party this year?” Jean hums in response. “Well, turns out that all the decorations I had for the apartment only cover like, an eighth of the house. I’ve been rummaging around in the closets all day to try and find something that might work and all I’ve been able to find is this.” You hold up the old, tangled lights for her to see.

    “That’s weird. With what I know about your Aunt, you’d think that she’d have a ton of decorations.” Jean mentions. You groan loudly, pressing your palms into the round edges of your eyesockets in frustration. 

    “Exactly! She loved Halloween, and with a house like this, there’s no way she’d just leave it bare. I’ve raided practically every closet and storage room in the house and haven’t found anything at all.” You almost shout the words, exasperated at this point. You knew for a fact Aunt Maude had to have something. It didn’t matter if it was even one of those awful animatronic jumping spiders at this point, you’d take anything if it meant you wouldn’t have to tap into your inheritance to decorate this big ass house (because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to decorate, you’d never disgrace your Aunt’s memory like that.). Jean is quiet for a moment, looking sympathetic through the screen. To be honest, as much as you value Jean’s advice, you’re beginning to think she’s got nothing to help you until-

    “Are you sure there’s not an attic or anything?”

    The thought makes you pause.

    “Oh my god, I’m an actual idiot.” You practically shriek the words, quickly standing from the floor and shoving the Christmas lights to the side as you run to get some shoes on. The attic! God, you feel so stupid for not thinking of it before! All you had to do was find the access hatch!

    “Just be careful though! Even though the house is renovated, that doesn’t mean-”

    “I’ll call you later, Okay? I’m gonna go look upstairs!”

    “No no no, don’t-”

    It takes you forever to find that damn attic. You’d think that it would be easy to find, seeing that it’s sort of an important structure in this house, but nooo. It’s been almost a month since you moved in, and yet you still feel like you’re lost while you wander around the third floor. How hard could it be to find a simple hatch? You feel like you’re looking in all the wrong places, and you know you probably are. You’re pacing around one of the third-floor bedrooms looking at the ceiling when a noise from the billiards room across the hall makes you freeze. 

    Were those footsteps?

    No, you were home alone. It couldn’t be. 

    Still, the sound leaves you on edge. You stalk across the hallway, stopping at the door to the other room as you briefly debate on how to open it. A small shuffle from the ceiling makes you jump a little, and you quickly decide, Fuck it. We ball. 

    You swing the door open with a bit more force than necessary and find the room… empty. Right. Of course, it was. You sigh in relief, running a stressed hand through your scalp as you take in the sight of the room for the first time since your original walk-through of the home. 

    In your brief scan of the room, you manage to spot a small string hanging right above the pool table, swinging back and forth. You slowly look up, and there it is. The fucking attic hatch. 

    “Oh god damn it. Was it really that easy to find?” You mumble to yourself, wondering if you really were just that stupid. 

    It doesn’t take a lot of time to move the pool table over so that you can open the latch and pull the rickety old ladder down. It looked more modern than most of the house, but it was easy to tell it was about as old as you were. You take a moment to just stare into the black hole in the ceiling, wondering if all this was really worth it. Well, you already spent all this time looking for the thing, so…

    You’re a little extra careful as you climb the ladder up into the attic, using the flashlight in your phone to light the way the further you go. The attic is a little bit dustier than the rest of the house, but to be honest, it was cleaner than you were expecting. It's dark and cramped, but once you fully enter you find that you can at least stand up to your full height. The excitement of finding the place has begun to wear off, and you start to feel a little flighty as you look around and the light from your flashlight shifts. This is okay. It’s fine. You’re fine. Maybe she had lights installed, right? You look up at the roof and are thankful to see those long, industrial fluorescent lights screwed to the ceiling. Thank god. 

    It takes a minute of stumbling and carefully following the wires to a corner of the attic, doing your best not to trip over anything along the way, and you find a small light switch in the corner of the room. You breathe a sigh of relief as you flick it on, and the lights overhead blink and light up. That’s a bit better!

    You find that Aunt Maude’s attic is cluttered with various random items, some older, others a bit more modern. The exercise bike and the Zumba tapes made you laugh a little as you passed them by, while some older cloth dolls and bunnies just made you uncomfortable. You’re not really sure where to start the search, so you just walk around for a minute. One of the lights overhead is starting to flicker a little, and you’re inwardly hoping that there’s no faulty wiring or anything that might start a fire when your foot catches on something.

    “Oh Shit!”

    There’s not a lot of time for you to catch yourself when you fall, eating absolute shit as you fall face-first into a stack of boxes. You smash your nose into something particularly hard when you land, and there’s a variety of shapes sticking into your sides that have sprouted from the smashed boxes below you. Ow, ow ow! God damnit! This is what you get for not listening to Jean. You feel a little dizzy as you sit up amongst the boxes, holding your nose tightly while you wonder if you just broke it. Your eyes are blurry from the pain, and it takes a second for you to fully come to.

    “What the hell did I just fall into?” You’re blinking away the blurriness as the sight in front of you finally starts to clear, A bunch of broken boxes now greeting you. Boxes that now had a bunch of plastic bones sticking out of the torn sides. You make a fairly embarrassing noise of excitement when you realize you had found exactly what you were looking for in the first place. The Halloween decorations!! Thank god! You were so unbelievably happy to find them that you couldn’t help but reach forward and look through the boxes immediately. 

    After thoroughly inspecting the contents, you realize that there were about eight large boxes of Halloween decorations in total. Motherfucking eight! This was perfect! The only thing was that there was still one little issue: getting them downstairs. You try not to think about those rickety ladders too hard as you move each box to a place a little easier to get to. Your back is already aching when you’re done for the moment, so you decide to sit down on the floor and lean back a little, catching your breath while looking at those eight, somewhat heavy boxes you were gonna have to fool around with in just a moment. Your foot nudges something as you do so. Hm. 

    Sitting up a little bit, you can see that it’s a floorboard, just sticking out a little bit. Oh! Guess that’s what you tripped over earlier. You try and press it back down with your foot, and that definitely doesn't work. Damn. Hopefully, you could find a hammer or something to tack it back down. You scoot over to get a better look when you notice that there’s something underneath, a dark blue color just faintly catching your eye. Curious, you lift the board a little, and after a tug or two, it gives way.

    You find an old, leatherbound book underneath. It’s got no clear name on the cover or the spine, simply a rune or emblem of sorts burned into the upper left corner. Finding it a bit strange, you flip open the cover, thinking that it must be a diary or something left by the original owners as a time capsule of sorts- but it’s not. Every page in the book is blank except for the very last one. This book is not what it has been. When the Veil strains thin will the ink be seen.

    Weird, but okay. You assume it’s a novelty or a trick or something, but it looks spooky enough, so you gently set it in one of the more empty boxes of Halloween decorations. Now it was time for the hard part.

    You drag one box at a time to the ladder, and looking at the size of them vs. the skinny steps below you, you wonder just how the hell Aunt Maude got these up here in the first place. Just thinking about getting these downstairs is intimidating, but you were never a quitter. One by one, you carefully take each box down, making sure to never carry more than you can handle and to keep a good grip on the ladder no matter what. After about 20 minutes, you get about halfway through. Four boxes down, four to go. Your arms are getting a bit tired and you’re a bit sweaty from the lack of AC in the attic, but you think you’ve got it. 

     On the fifth box of decorations, your foot slips. You gasp in shock, your stomach flipping as you fall backward- a split second of absolute terror as you fall. You’re terrified that you’re gonna die, and that Jean will never forgive you and you’d never get to throw that stupid party you were doing all this work for in the first place. 

    The air is knocked from your lungs from something that felt much more like a catch than it did the floor. You don't know what’s going on for a moment, eyes shut tight as the shock begins to wear off and you realize that you’re fine… Wait. Hold on. Someone had definitely caught you, and unless Jean had snuck in…

    To be honest, whatever you were expecting when you opened your eyes was very, very much wrong. Your heart is beating a million times a minute, a chill running through you when you finally register who is above you. Or what, rather. The first thing you see are his eyes. Yellow from pupil to scelera, almost glowing in the low light of the billiards room. He’s more fuzz than skin, blue in color, with devilishly sharp canine teeth he reveals with a sheepish smile.

    “Hallo?”

    He flinches when you shriek, doing his best not to drop you as you squirm out of his arms. Your knees give out the moment your feet hit the floor, and you scramble back, grabbing the first box you can and throwing anything you can find at him. 

    “Sorry- Sorry! I had not mean to scare you!” He holds his arms up to block each decoration you throw at him. A few plastic spiders, a zip lock of polyester faux webbing, and a little floral crow or two. You can hardly even think at the moment.

    “Stop! Please stop! I didn't want to let you fall!” He flinches at each item although none of them are very heavy. You’re running out of things to throw, stalling for a moment as you debate lunging for one of the other boxes.

    “WHAT ARE YOU?!” You shriek again.  He opens his mouth to speak as he takes a step back, and you flinch as you see something move in the corner of your eye- a tail. A spaded fucking demon tail. You had to be losing it. Having hallucinations or a nightmare or something- but as it turns out, you are definitely a fight-over-freeze kind of person, and your body kicks in before your brain has caught up. The box of bones was next to go. A hand, and then two small rib cages and a slightly heavy bundle of newspaper fly through the air.

     “Careful!” He flat-out ignores the other items, going wide-eyed at the ball of newspaper and lunging to catch it in time. He takes an audible sigh of relief when he does, and says something that makes you pause from pelting him with any more Halloween shit.

    “You’re certainly Maude’s kin, but I doubt she’d appreciate you throwing her breakables.” He halfheartedly jokes, an awkward smile on his face. You’re mid-throw with another bone, hand frozen in the air with a range of emotions going on in your head.

    “Excuse me?” You ask, possibly a little overdramatic at the moment. He goes to move, probably to set the wad of newspaper down, but you raise your hand again as if to throw, making a face at him that’s a little more goofy than it was intimidating. He hands the newspaper off to his tail, raising his hands to show that he means no harm.

    “Maude? The woman who lived here before?”

    “Yeah, I got that part!” You cry out, hands shaking a bit from adrenaline. “How do you know my Aunt Maude? And what are you!? Why are you here!?” The rapid-fire questions seem to interrupt him every time he opens his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to lose his patience with you. He very calmly places the wad of newspaper on top of a box that happens to be near, and you eye him suspiciously as he does. He sits down next to it, the tip of his tail swaying just slightly.

    “Maybe we should take a step back, Ja? I can explain everything, I promise.” He says, patting the space next to him. “Herkommen. It might be better to sit for this.” His smile is polite, and if this situation were any different, you might find his kind demeanor charming. But the situation isn’t different. He was a stranger in your house. A blue, possible-demon stranger, with a tail and what you think looks like small, pointed horns sticking out from the thick curls that cover his hairline. You eye him suspiciously, halfway wondering if this was a trick of sorts. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to sit. Eventually, you do, but not next to him, definitely not. You sit down right where you are, hesitant and fidgety as he begins to speak.

    Of course, it would be your Aunt to summon a demon to aid her with her ridiculous (lovely) house in her failing health, instead of hiring a fucking nurse, or an assistant, or just selling the damn thing. Of course, it would be your Aunt to leave you the house with said demon in it, and not tell you. OF COURSE, It would be your aunt to tell him to take it slow while introducing himself so he wouldn't freak you out, and OF-FREAKING-COURSE, it would be you who almost killed yourself on accident and completely derail that plan. Jesus, what was worse? The fact that your aunt was apparently an actual witch who summoned demons in her elderly years, or that she didn’t explain any of this to you before leaving you the house. You didn't know how to unpack all of this, hell, you weren’t even done unpacking all of your things. 

    Well, It’s not like you could (or would) kick him out really, but in the coming weeks, you notice that Kurt is really more of a butler than a roommate.

    He’s been cleaning even before you knew he existed, but now that the grand reveal was over, you see him around the house much more often. He helps you with groceries, cooks for you when you’re exhausted, he takes the trash out sometimes too, when the sun goes down. He doesn’t go outside in the front yard very much to avoid being seen, but every once in a while, he’ll take a walk with you in the backyard. You were hesitant of him for a good bit, but you’d be a liar if you said he didn’t have a way of worming his way into your good graces. He’s… sweet. And easy to get along with. He effortlessly fits into your life, and you find yourself excited to see him when you wake up every day. You get along so well that it makes you wonder if your aunt had known that you would when she summoned him, or… you know what, probably not. 

    You learn more about him as the weeks go by. His past, his hopes for the future. You learn that his father is a demon lord of some sort, and his mothers are a bit more complicated. All three are dangerous, and all three are trying to find him. 

    “Is that why you took the pact with my Aunt?” You ask, late one night. Both of you have drinks in hand, leaning back on a pile of pillows and cushions you found in the tower room. It’s comfortable, if a bit warm. The two of you are a little flushed, words surprisingly clear as you speak. Despite being a demon, you find that Kurt is a bit of a lightweight. An accident on your part, having poured the drinks a little stronger thinking that he had a bit more tolerance. 

    “Mostly.” Kurt hums. He’s fully leaning against you, head resting snugly against your own with his tail curled around your abdomen. His horns are resting against your temple in a rather uncomfortable manner, but you don’t mention it. He takes another drink.

    “I don’t know how she knew. Or if she knew, really. Magic is specific to each demon, like a fingerprint of sorts, just a bit easier to track. When a demon makes a pact, their magic is filtered through the pact-bearer- which creates a different kind of magic. I needed a place to hide, she was offering me a home. It was easy.” His words slur a little where his accent tends to come out a bit stronger.

    “Was that all she offered you? A place to stay?”

    “That and…” He trails off for a quick moment, clearing his throat to change the subject. “Well, anyway. I was desperate, and she seemed kind, so I agreed.” You nod as you think it over yourself. You can’t tell if he’s just drunk or it's a sensitive subject, but he can’t just have accepted the many tasks of cleaning and caring for an old woman for something less in return. Was it that easy for demons to make pacts like that? Surely, she wouldn’t have offered him her soul or anything.

    You open your mouth to ask him more questions, but when a light snore reaches your ears, you know he’s fallen asleep. You can't help but smile, a warmth in your chest that you don’t really think is from the alcohol.

    A few days later, it’s Saturday, October 31st. After some long weekends and late nights, you finally have the whole house decorated, inside and out! You were so beyond excited. The whole place looked like it had come straight out of a Halloween catalog! You were so proud of how amazing it looked, but you could never have taken all the credit. Kurt was a big help, both with the placement and creativity of the many decorations. Everything that had to be put outside had to be done so at night so that Kurt wouldn’t be seen, and sure, sometimes you would wake up and see a few things were crooked, but at least it was fun! You’ve never felt so invigorated and filled with Halloween spirit, especially now, a few hours before the party. You’re shaking some full-sized candy bars into a big-ass plastic cauldron, and Kurt walks in with his arms full of Party favors for tonight.

    “You know, I’m not sure you could give away all of these if you tried!” Kurt laughs, setting them all down on the coffee table in the sitting room. It's a bunch of plastic spider rings, vampire teeth, squishy skeletons, slap bracelets, and more. All sorted into their own neat ziplock bags. The apartment complex you used to live at never really got any trick-or-treaters, so you had a lot of leftover goodies you were happy to finally use. You let out an excited giggle, taking one of the bags and emptying it into the cauldron. 

    “You’ll be surprised! With the neighborhood that’s just around the corner, I know for a fact that we’ll have plenty of kids come by!” You almost sing. Kurt smiles at you, taking a bag of his own to empty. 

    “Don’t get your hopes up, Schatz. It’s an old building, and rather scary from afar. Maude never really had a lot of visitors on Halloween.” You pout at his words, before tilting your head like you’re considering them as you continue to fill the cauldron. 

    “True, but Aunt Maude never tried posting on neighborhood Facebook groups and hyping up PTA moms before. Besides, the house is scary, but that's what the lights are for!” Kurt shakes his head, laughing as you voice the thought. You mayyy have gone overboard this year. A few extra strands of lights, blow-ups, and animatronics never hurt anybody, right? I mean, with most of your expenses taken care of due to the paid-off mansion you live in, you were able to spend a little bit more of your personal spending money on Halloween. Your new home was a whole-ass Halloween attraction, and a good bit of the neighborhood thought so too! After posting online, you were pleasantly surprised with the positive feedback from the surrounding neighborhoods, and had even personally met a few kind neighbors since!

    Kurt however, couldn’t risk being seen, and had to hide every time. Most people would freak out, just like you did, and the attention isn’t really a good thing for him. The thought sends you on the same spiral that you had been on for the past week, and the smile slowly slips off your face as Kurt takes the pot from you and begins to mix the goodies all together.

    “...You’re sure you don’t want to come tonight?” You ask, vulnerability shining through your voice. Kurt looks up from the task, brow furrowed. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then looks back down again.

    “I don’t want to scare anyone.” He says softly, making your frown deepen.

    “You won’t! I promise you won’t. None of my friends scare easily- and besides! It’s Halloween. Everyone will just think you’re in a costume!” You try to make the last bit of the plea happy and convincing, but it doesn’t seem to work very well. Kurt doesn’t look at you until he’s done with the pot, placing it back on the coffee table. When he does, his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes,

    “I’ll be fine, Schatz. I promise. It will be easier for me to just hide. I can easily enjoy the party from a distance.” The words aren’t very convincing, but before you can say anything else, the doorbell rings. Kurt dusts himself off as he stands, tail swaying as he pulls you to your feet. 

    “Looks like your guests are early. Make sure to have fun tonight, Ja? I’ll see you later.” Kurt squeezes your hands, and you try not to look too disappointed. After all, it was his decision, and you don’t want him to feel forced to show himself when so much could go wrong. You give him a moment to head back upstairs, disappearing like he used to do back in the beginning. You can’t help but sigh a little, but there’s a hesitant knock on the door instead of the doorbell this time, and you know you can’t just stand here and ignore it.

    You don’t really know who is going to be on the other side of the door, with it being mid-afternoon and still a hot minute before the party actually starts, but the bloody, red-haired Carrie on the other side of the door brightens your spirits the moment you see her.

    “Jean!” You cheer, rushing to give her a hug that she warmly returns.

    “Happy Halloween!” Jean says before pulling away. “I hope you don’t mind, I thought I’d come by a little early to help you set up.” 

    “Are you kidding? I have a whole ass kitchen of food I still need to plate.” You step aside to let Jean in as she laughs. You were originally to do most of the prep with Kurt, and although Jean is technically interrupting, you try not to let it get you down. This is the first time you’ve seen her in a long while, and you were already rather lucky that Halloween was falling on a Saturday this year- most of your friends/guests all working at the prep school nearby. 

    “Am I the first one here?” Jean asks as you lead her to the kitchen, and you hum in response.

    “Yup, It’s been just me all day.” You’ve never been the best liar, but you think you’re a little convincing at least. 

    “Funny, I could have sworn I heard a man’s voice when I rang the doorbell.” Jean’s smug tone almost makes you stop in place. If you were even a little convinced that some of this house was soundproof, those hopes were dashed instantly. You smile nervously, trying to play it off as you pass the sitting room, the TV giving you an idea.

    “Whaaaattt? No. I mean- I’ve had the TV in the sitting room running all day, so maybe that’s what you heard.” You say, trying to wave her off. Unfortunately, Jean had the ungodly ability to pick up your anxiety like a goddamn bloodhound.

    “Really? There’s not some mystery boyfriend you’re not telling me about?” Jean teases. You get stiff and quiet immediately, biting your lip as you reach the kitchen. She takes the silence as an affirmative answer, and she’s not exactly far off. Jean cocks an eyebrow at your nervous stance, chuckling at the sweat that practically beads at your brow. You try to hide the flush of your cheeks by busying yourself with setting out different snack foods to organize and avoiding her eyes, but it doesn’t work. 

    “Oh come on, I’m not blind. You’re over there blushing like a student. Who’s the lucky guy?” Jean asks, helping you with the task. You begin to open a back of chips, looking away from Jean’s knowing gaze.

    “I- We’re- We’re not really a thing. He’s just a friend.” You say, heart thundering in your chest as you pray Kurt isn’t lurking nearby. You’re struggling with the bag still, and Jean holds her hands out as an offer. You hand it to her without a second thought, and she opens the bag easily.

    “And is this friend coming to the party tonight?” She asks. You stall for a moment. All you can hear are the soft clinks of the chips hitting the inside of one of the bowls you had set out. You’re not quite sure what to say to that, or even if you had anything to say. Your hesitance makes her frown, looking up at you cautiously. When she puts the bag back down, she reaches out to take your hand. 

    “Well, if he does stop by, I’ll be glad to meet him.” Her tone is reassuring, and you muster a small smile for her. Tonight was supposed to be fun, so you’d do your best to enjoy it.

    The night goes by busier than you ever would have expected. Everyone comes dressed to the absolute nines in their costumes, and although a few were lacking in imagination in your opinion- Logan specifically- everyone looked amazing. You quickly realize that It’s harder to be a good hostess in this big ass house than you would think. Between the food, trying to catch up with friends, and the doorbell constantly ringing with practically a line down your driveway of more trick-or-treaters than you’ve ever seen, you were constantly busy. Lucky for you, you had good people around you. Logan and Scott thankfully took over cooking hamburgers and hotdogs- and Jean promised to keep them from butting heads. Ororo and Xavier happily volunteered to hand out the candy when you couldn’t, and you had Jubilee to count on when it came to the music. The house was busy, people were smiling, and overall, everything was going really well. 

    The only downside was that you hadn’t seen Kurt since Jean arrived. Sure, it was busy, but every time you managed to pry yourself away from the crowd and look for him in his usual hidey-spots, you never found him. He’s good at being sneaky, I mean he has to be, right? Being blue and all, but his consistent absence makes you a little nervous. He’s probably just being extra cautious, and you can’t blame him for that.

    After a few drinks have been had, spirits are high, and some different party games you had planned were finished, it was time to vote for best costume. Almost everyone had gone outside, enjoying the yard and the house in all its festive glory, but you stayed inside to count the votes. Kitty and Illiyana had volunteered to help you, and it takes a surprising amount of time to count the various strips of colored construction paper. In the end, it seems like it was really more of a “most ridiculous” costume contest instead. Jubilee, dressed as the one in only Kool-aide-man in the biggest plastic fishbowl you’d ever seen, won best costume by a single point, with Kevin’s fantastic costume of Professor Xavier himself a single point behind. You try your best not to laugh, knowing that they are not going to be too happy about that. You had bought a light up-sash and a plastic crown for the winner, stopping to grab them before stepping outside to try and find the teen. 

    Somehow, you can’t find her. I mean, You think it would be easy to find a huge red bowl with a face on it, but she’s not outside at all. When you ask Hank, he says he’s pretty sure she went back inside, so inside you go. You’re starting to get a little anxious at this point, not finding her on the first, or second floor. The third floor is completely dark, aside from the colorful light coming from the windows. You call out her name with no response, and then thinking that Kurt may have seen her, you call out his name next. Nothing. He’s never done that before. Sure, there was a lot going on, but normally he’d at least try to answer you. You creep from door to door upstairs, without any luck, when a muffled sound from the tower room falls on your ears. It makes you pause for a moment. It might be nothing, but you remember telling Jubilee about the room earlier, so you figure it wouldn’t hurt to check.

    You’re hesitant, but then there's another muffled cry, and this time, you know it’s him. You slowly creep up over to the door, and then up the stairs to the room. Minutes feel like hours, and when you finally get there, you find Kurt, on his knees and doubled over in pain with his hands pressed to his chest.

    “Oh my god, Kurt!” You cry out, running over to him. His face is scrunched up in a wince, his eyes shooting open when you try to help him sit up. 

     “No, no- You can't be here- You need to go,” Kurt’s voice comes out between heaving breaths. Your hands are shaking, panicked as you spot the blood seeping through his shirt. He hisses in pain when you touch the spot, as if he’s been burned, and when his hands quickly tug your wrist away- his neckline shifts. There’s a brand over his heart. Etched into him as if it were carved with a scalpel.

    “What happened? What's happening?” The words come out faster than your brain can catch up. His nails are elongated, razor-sharp points almost digging into the skin of your wrist as hold hold shifts. The brand glows as another wave of pain washes over him. Those small points that normally hide in his curly hair have grown, too. His horns sweep over his head, prominent and black at the very tips. He cries out, slumping forward onto your shoulder as the pain passes.

    “You need to go. Bitte- I need you to leave.” Kurt almost whimpers, practically limp against you as he tries to catch his breath. “It’s Azazel, my Vater. He’s found me. He’s using the brand to track me down. It’s too dangerous for you to be here.” He stiffens as another wave of pain hits him, and you do your best to keep upright. There’s so much running through your head, concern, confusion. You don't know how to help him besides holding up up and it's killing you to see him like this.

    “I don’t understand- I thought he couldn’t find you unless you used magic?” Kurt looks ashamed when you ask the question, tucking his head further into your shoulder. It's only then that you actually take a look at the room around you. There's an open book on the ground, runes and lettering you don't understand scatter the pages, along with a diagram of a devil that seemingly shifts into something more human and back at every shift of your eye. When you see the worn cover, you recognize it as the book beneath the floorboards- and you finally understand that it's a spellbook.

    “I… I wanted to join you.” Kurt whispers, unable to look you in the eye. “My Mutter was skilled in transmutation so I…” He trails off, shaking his head and wincing when another sharp pain shoots through him.

    “It was stupid. I’m sorry. I should never have touched it without a pact.”

    “If you make one now, will the brand disappear?” 

    Kurt visibly pauses. Sitting up as best he can to get a look at your face. You're still panicking, but overall you feel mortified. Ashamed. Did you do this? Were you so instant that he came tonight that he would risk everything just to do so? What was wrong with you- and why on God's green earth would he actually try to go through with it? You're beginning to tear up, swallowing down your thoughts as you offer the only thing you can think of. Kurt doesn't answer you at first, his yellow eyes wide with shock as he stares at you. 

    “If you make a new pact, will you be able to dispel the tracker?” You repeat, trying so hard to seem confident and self-assured through your shaky voice. Kurt’s face shifts into something you can't quite place, and he shakes his head.

    “I can’t ask that of you-”

    “Kurt, just answer me!” You’re too stubborn to let it go. A trait that you and Maude often shared. Kurt takes your hands into his own, squeezing them, and shakes his head. He's insistent in his own right, conveying his worry and fears- not for his own future, but yours.

    “This isn’t the way you want to gain a pact! Maude had made preparations. She had charms and protections and rules in place! There’s no time for us to do the same. If you make a pact with me now with nothing? It would bind your soul to mine for eternity. You would have no rest, no peace- no Heaven. I won’t-”

    “I love you!” Kurt sucks in a sharp breath at your exclamation. Tears have started to roll down your face no matter how hard you were trying to blink them away. 

    “I don’t care about eternity, or rest- or any of that. I love you. Fuck- I know I haven’t even known you three months- I just…” You trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment that all of this had to come out in such bullshit circumstances.

    “Please just make the pact.”

    Kurt’s eyes soften, almost scanning your own as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re telling the truth. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears from your face, careful of his claws, and then suddenly, he kisses you. It’s easy for you to melt into his desperate kiss, a hand coming up to cup his face as he pulls you closer with his tail. The strong limb pulls you into a straddle across his lap as he takes your free hand in his own. When he breaks the kiss, he does so with a mumbled apology as he takes your free hand. You feel a sudden stinging pain as a careful claw slices across your palm, and he apologizes again as he presses it over his heart, directly against the bleeding brand. Both of you hiss at the sudden, blinding pain as his hand continues to press your palm tightly to the wound.

    There’s an energy that begins to fill your body, like an electric current that links the two of you together. Your skin is buzzing, your head spinning as you fall against his shoulder in a mirror of his own position earlier. Kurt’s new claws dig into his own skin, and he grits his teeth as the pain from the brand grows more and more- before everything stops.

    You wish you could say there was some spark, or spoken words, or something, but it all ends almost anti-climatically. Everything stops. Everything is quiet- almost too quiet. Whatever vertigo you are feeling begins to wear off, and when you feel like you can finally lift your head, you look at Kurt.

    He’s smiling at you, horns reduced, fingernails shortened, with your hand still pressed over his heart- the brand gone and the skin healed on both of you

    “Is it over?”

    “It’s over.” He confirms, and you sigh in relief, pressing your forehead against his own. Kurt doesn't take long before he’s pressing kisses all over your face, holding you still as you giggle and squirm. You know there’s more to be said between you, but it’s been one hell of a night, and right now you’re enjoying the comfortable silence between Kurt’s fluttering kisses- until someone calls your name from the tower stairs.

    “Hey, You in there?” Jean’s voice echoes through the space, and you sit straight up, heart given a jumpstart as Jean comes into view- you don’t have time to move before she gets there.

    “You’ll never guess where we found Jube….” She trails off when she sees you and Kurt. “Oh?” Your face is as red as it can get, panic shooting through you at the realization that she’s seen the actual demon living in your home. All he does though is smile and wave, although a bit nervously. Jean raises an eyebrow, beginning to smile just as you realize the position the two of you are in.

    “Nice costume,” Jean says, and after a moment of confusion, you realize she’s talking to Kurt. Kurt looks relieved, shoulders relaxing underneath you, and you clear your throat.

    “Jean, this is Kurt.” 

    The air settles in the Tower room once it’s empty, the sound of the party downstairs is muffled through the floorboards, but still present nonetheless. There’s almost a giggle in the air, and the book flips from page to page before it closes shut, and the ink fades as the grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway strikes midnight. A pact is completed, and the energy in the air begins to fade. After all, a soul can’t leave the mortal plane until its final business has been finished, and Maude had not promised her own soul to the friendly blue devil, but no one said she couldn’t offer something else- a soulmate. 

[hahaifolded]

Pay Back - John Price x POC!FemReader

Summary: After learning more about John's love life, you are determined in helping John make his ex jealous. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, Fake Relationship, Mutual Pining, Small Age Gap, Misunderstandings, Slight Angst, Cheating (not by Price or Reader), Suggestive Themes, Military Inaccuracies, Sexism, Microaggressions, Cursing, Attempted Assault, Mild Violence Word Count: 4740

“So Cap'n, how come you're not married yet?” asked Gaz before taking the last sip of his beer. After a grueling mission and what seemed like never endless meetings, Price decided to take the team out for drinks at the local bar. But now as the conversation steered towards his love life, Price was starting to regret his decision.

“Leave the man alone,” scolded Ghost.

“Why? It’s a fair question,” whined Soap. They all looked at Price, waiting for their captain’s reaction.

However, before John could say anything, you returned to the table with 5 beers in your hands. “This round is technically on the man in the suit but seeing that I had to talk to him, it’s on me,” you gleamed as you set the beers down in front of the boys. Smiling at them, you plopped next to Ghost, holding one beer in your hand. Gaz and Soap immediately reached for one as the lieutenant nudged you, almost in gratitude. John thanked you for the drink, eyes stuck at how close you sat next to Ghost.

You were the CIA liaison, handpicked by Laswell to work with the 141. Despite being hesitant at first, Price couldn’t be happier with your arrival as you brought a much needed balance to the taskforce. You immediately matched Soap’s and Gaz’s energy, eased yourself in Ghost’s reserved sphere, and made Price’s life so much easier.

But, at the same time you also complicated it as he found himself developing a small crush on you. Instead of acting on it, however, John maintained a level of professionalism with you. First of all, he was your direct superior. In additional, he couldn’t bring himself to rob you of your youth as you were closer to Ghost's age than the old man. And besides, he suspected that something was brewing between you and Ghost with how close you two were and he wasn’t going to get in the middle of that. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t have you.

“So, what are we talking about?” you asked. Ghost tried to change the topic but Gaz beat him to it.

“I was here asking the cap'n why he hasn’t gotten married yet. But your buddy here thought we were doing too much,” informed Gaz with mischief in his eyes. Soap let out a deep chuckle as Ghost let out a disappointed sigh.

“Oooh wait, I want to know the answer, because not to be weird, but you’re an absolute catch, Captain. I’m surprised you don’t have someone waiting for you back home,” you let out. Clearly, the alcohol was starting to affect your self control.

With all the attention on him, John took a swig from his beer for some instant courage. “It’s not like I haven’t wanted to. I just haven’t had the best of luck finding a woman after my fiancée left.”

“What!” you and the boys gasped in unison. Now Price was regretting this whole night. Letting out an exasperated breath, John shared his tragic story.

Of how he was engaged with his high school sweetheart, Anna. How Anna and him planned to get married after his first deployment. But, something went wrong and Price accidentally caused his lieutenant at the time to break his leg. Feeling guilty, he signed up Anna to take care of the man while John and the rest of the team finished the mission. And after a month out in the desert, John came back to find his lieutenant shagging his fiancée. Heartbroken, the now-SAS captain left and threw himself into his work. The last he heard of them was that they got married as they kindly sent him an invitation. Everyone stared at John, in disbelief at his story.

“That is horrible, Cap'n. I didn’t mean to pry. If I had known, I wouldn’t have asked,” apologized Gaz. Soap and Ghost seconded him. Price just sheepishly smiled, assuring them it was fine.

“IT’S NOT FINE!” you asserted as you slammed your beer on the table. Your eyes burned with anger. You immediately turned to the team and waved your arms. “We need to do something about this!” you incredulously announced.

“And I think you need to stop drinking,” said Ghost as he grabbed your beer.

“Back off,” you said as you pulled your beer away. “I say we call Laswell, borrow some nuclear codes, and blow them up!”

“Oh, she for sure needs to stop drinking,” joked Soap. Gaz and Ghost broke out in a deep laugh, amused by your suggestion. You looked at the men with wide eyes, unable to understand why they weren’t ready to start a riot. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe someone could do such a thing to their fiancée and teammate. As a victim of cheating yourself, your heart ached for John.

You turned your gaze to Price and reached for his hand. John felt his face burn as your fingers intertwined with his. You looked deeply into his eyes and shared, “John, I know we haven’t known each other for long, but just know that what Anna and your lieutenant did to you is absolutely unacceptable and if I could,” you paused to take in a deep breath. John couldn’t help but feel shy under your gaze. “I would get revenge for you… just say the word.” Ghost pulled you back, letting you know that was enough.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” admitted Price. As much as it hurt, John learned to live with the betrayal. It wasn’t the last time he would be betrayed so he tried not to dwell too much on it. Sure, it severely hurt his view on romance but he was a SAS soldier for Christ's sake, he didn’t necessarily have time for it either.

Soap immediately changed topics, opting to talk about his recent slew of dates and how each one was a dud. Price tried to pay attention to his sergeant’s antics but found himself glancing at you as you opted to scroll on your phone instead. Whatever you were looking for, you seemed determined.

After half an hour of Soap talking, you started to whisper in Ghost’s ear, shoving your phone in the lieutenant’s face. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a clear sign that he was amused by whatever you were showing him.

“What’s got you two so cozy over there?” asked Soap with a slight lilt in his voice.

“Nothing,” you sang. You looked up at Price. “Quick question, can Ghost and I get next weekend off to go to,” you paused to look at your phone, “Edinburgh?”

“Why?” His heart sank. Maybe you and Ghost were a lot closer than he thought.

Ghost laughed. “Seems like our little spy here found your old lieutenant and ex and wants to pay them a visit.”

“I just want to talk... promise.”

Soap and Gaz immediately grabbed your phone, curious to see the woman who broke their captain’s heart.

“That's her?!" shouted Gaz. He immediately stopped when Price shot him a glare.

“And who’s the man next to her? Her dad?” inquired Soap as Gaz handed him your phone. Price took a peak at it. His eyes widened.

“Nope, I think that’s my old lieutenant. Lt Murphy,” informed Price. He didn’t expect to see his old lieutenant look so sad. He remembered how the man used to exude strength and respect, something that John admired when he was younger. Now it looked like the years finally caught up to him.

“Well, whoever he is, he needs to make his Facebook likes private. It’s clear he has a type,” you added as you grabbed your phone. The man’s account made your skin crawl. You couldn’t believe that such a disgusting man was able to steal your boss’ fiancée right under his nose.

“So what do you say… can we get next weekend off?” you asked again, throwing out your best puppy dog eyes to Price. Your desire to defend your captain was making John feel so good but so wrong at the same time. Ghost was a lucky man.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, you and I have the ball next week,” informed Price. To his dismay, Price had been called to London to be this year’s distinguished guest at the annual military gala. John absolutely hated the event as instead of celebrating the real valiant efforts of soldiers like his men, it was a just a sad dick measuring contest between men who forgot what real bravery was. The only silver lining was his plus one, you.

“Oh fuck, you’re right,” you recalled. You grabbed Ghost by his arm and told him to hold off on the plan which made the masked man chuckle. Price gripped his beer a little tighter to refrain from lunging at his teammate. At least he had you to himself next weekend.

— — —

“I really can’t believe you forgot to pack deodorant,” you playfully scolded your captain. After checking in to the hotel, you and Price made a quick trip to the store.

“Well, we’re not all as sharp as you, love,” he quipped. Love. That got your heart beating. Despite the boys calling you love regularly, it only ever made your heart flutter when Price said it. You knew it wasn't right, but you yearned for the man next to you. No one knew but Ghost who quickly became your confidant. However, you knew that John wasn't interested as he always kept you at arm's length, forcing you to be content with just being his co-worker.

You and Price immediately split up once inside. Price made his way towards the men’s toiletries while you perused the surrounding area.

As you looked at some vitamins, you heard a woman shriek your captain’s name. You peered over and felt your eyes almost jump out of your head. In front of John Price was a blonde woman close to his age greeting him like he was an old friend. But she was nothing close to that as it was Anna, his cheating ex-fiancée. The audacity of that woman as she tried to catch up with John like it wasn’t her fault for why it’s been a “long time no see.”

Seeing your captain look so uncomfortable made you see red. You quickly grabbed a nearby product, switched your ring from one finger to another, and made your way to Price with a plan in mind

— — —

John never wanted to die more in his life. Anna, who was once the love of his life before she discarded him like trash, stood in front of him, trying to make the most awkward small talk ever.

“So John, how have you been?” she asked.

Before John could answer, he felt a smooth hand run around his waist, dropping something in his basket. His breath got stuck in his throat when he realized it was you. You pressed up against him, head on his shoulder. He turned his head to find your face a mere few inches away. You flashed him a wide smile, eyes shining with love and adoration.

“Found what we’re looking for, baby,” you said with a wink. John looked down to see that you had dropped a big box of condoms in his basket. His mouth salivated. You giggled as you grabbed on to his arm, completely attaching yourself to his side. He must be dreaming.

“Who’s this, John?” interrupted Anna. Despite having a smile on her face, her voice sounded tense, almost accusatory.

“This is (Y/N), my—“

“Fiancée,” you finished. You extended your hand out, showing off a ring on your fourth finger. You quickly pulled it back and placed a quick kiss on John’s cheek, further staking your claim on the man. John smiled back as he realized what you were doing. He found himself falling for you more.

“Oh wow, congrats! Can’t wait to get an invite,” quipped Anna. John felt your grip tighten around his arm.

You looked up at John, confusion written on your face. Turning back to Anna, you innocently asked, “I’m sorry, but who are you? I don’t think John’s told me about you.” John knew that hit a cord in his former fiancée as she always needed to be the center of attention.

Before Anna could say anything, a rough voice boomed from the back. “How many fucking times have I told you not to walk away while— John?” John’s day just had to get worse as Lt. Nick Murphy stood in front of him, next to his former fiancée, eyes wide at seeing Price.

“Wow, look at you, you’re all grown up now. Tell me what are you up to these days?” asked the man as he puffed out his chest. With you wrapped on his arm, John felt a burst of confidence surge through him. He straightened his posture and proudly shared his promotion to captain for special forces. John had to admit that it felt good to see his former lieutenant shrink a bit when he said that.

"Good for you, my boy. But I do have to ask, who's the cute thing wrapped around your arm?" he asked all smugly. John didn't like the way he looked at you. John instinctually grabbed your hand and proclaimed you as his fiancée.

"Who would have thought that John Price would have grown up to be a cradle robber?" joked the man. Price felt himself sink a little. Sure, you were slightly younger than the man, but he didn't think that the age gap was that obvious.

"Oh please, I had to practically beg the man to go on a date with me," you defended him with a giggle. Unable to read the room, Murphy continued to small talk and asked what brought you both here. You immediately jumped in and gushed about how your man was this year's distinguished guest at the gala. John liked the way you claimed him as yours. But unfortunately for the both of you, they too were here for the celebration.

"You know what, John? Why don't you and the girl come over for dinner tonight? We're renting an apartment in the city. Anna here can cook us some dinner and we can all catch up over some beers," announced Murphy.

"Fiancée," mumbled John. Pretend or not, he was proud to call you his. You tugged on his arm, similar to when an owner pulls on their dog's leash to stop them from lunging. You laid your head on his arm, waiting for John's response.

John was a good soldier and a decent captain, but when he accepted the invitation, he knew he wasn't a good man.

-- -- --

"Are you sure you're fine with this?" Price asked the millionth time as you reached the London apartment. Dressed in a cute sundress that accentuated all of the right parts, you fixed Price's collar, making sure that your fiancé looked the part.

"Yes, John." You rolled your eyes. "I don't think you realize how badly I want to see you win here," you said as you smoothed out the wrinkles on his shoulders. You had to admit, your captain looked good in a white button up. "And don't be scared to touch me, okay? We really have to sell this if we want to win." John laughed at your words which made your cheeks warm.

"Of course, love." There it was again. Walking hand in hand, you both walked to the door.

"Wait," you said. You unbuttoned the first few button's of John's shirt. "Show her what she missed out on." You couldn't help but feel pride at seeing Price's cheeks turned slightly red. Clearing his throat, John knocked. You immediately wrapped yourself around his arm and pressed a small kiss on his cheek at the door opened.

Anna opened the door and excitedly greeted John. The woman was not afraid to hide her distaste towards you as venom dripped in your greeting. Ushering you both in, you and John found Murphy sitting in the living room, beer in hand, lazily watching television.

"John, my boy! Take a seat. Dinner should be ready soon," he hollered. John took a seat on the recliner as he refused to sit on the couch next to his old lieutenant. Without shame, the old man patted the space next to him, calling you over. Your skin prickled as you recalled his type which you unfortunately fit perfectly.

Before you could deny his offer, John immediately pulled you in his lap. "No need. She already has the best seat in the house." He planted a loud kiss on your cheek. Fuck. You knew John was strong, but feeling him so close further proved the man he was. Feeling tonight's host scan your figure, you settled yourself further on your captain's lap.

"John, I made your favor-- oh. Well look at you, someone got comfortable," commented Anna as she walked in with a plate of sausage rolls. Unlike her husband, she glared at you. You just giggled to further get under her skin.

"Sure did," added John as he adjusted you on his lap. Quickly, Murphy and John engaged in some small talk over tonight's football game. John kept a gentle grasp on your waist, occasionally kissing you on the cheek whenever the conversation lulled. Despite being in the warm embrace of your captain, your blood ran cold whenever Murphy's eyes trailed over your body.

Eventually, Anna called you all over to the dining table as she finished cooking. Dinner started off quiet as the tension in the room became too obvious to ignore. Eventually, Murphy decided to speak up.

"So tell me, John, how did you meet this pretty thing?" You loathed this man.

John choked on his food, realizing that neither of you had settled on a backstory. You could sense your captain's hesitation. Grabbing the hand next to you, you decided to take the lead.

"I know it's kinda cliche but I was actually his assistant," you began. "I tried being professional, but the heart wants want it wants. You guys might understand." Feigning ignorance, you looked past the knowing looks in your hosts' eyes and turned your gaze to Price.

"He is literally everything that a woman could want... kind, strong, resilient... handsome. He turned me down at first as John is nothing but respectful, but now after 2 amazing years, we're set to get married in a few months." You kissed him on his lips to seal the deal.

Maybe it was too much, but if this was going to be the only time you could say he was yours, you were going to fully savor it. Besides it only secured the farce that you two had set up as Anna had a tight smile on her face and Murphy stared at John with clear jealousy in his eyes.

Anna cleared her throat in an attempt to ease her jealousy. "Well isn't that a cute story, right Nick?" Murphy just grunted in agreement. However, Anna was not going to let you have the last word as a smirk appeared on her face. "You know what John, I always imagined you settling down with a girl from back home... you know someone more of your caliber." Your chest tightened. You really couldn't believe the gall on this woman. Before you could respond, John stepped up.

"Funny, I also imagined settling down with someone different, but life has a funny way of working itself out," John said with food in mouth. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. Your heart melted. John really had your back both on the field and here. Anna's face turned red, maybe out of embarrassment or anger. You weren't sure.

-- -- --

Dinner continued with a few jabs here in there from tonight's host, but John could care less. Right now, he was just a man in love, engaged to a beautiful woman. Despite the circumstances and less than ideal dinner companions, John wanted to stay here as long as he could so he could still say you were his. However, his bladder had other thoughts.

Price was set on holding it in, opting to bounce his leg to ease the need. However, as observant as always, you gently laid your hand on his bouncing knee and asked Murphy where the bathroom was.

"Oh, the wife will show you. Anna!" he commanded. John threw you a sheepish smile with eyes asking if you would be fine. After you assured him with a small peck, John followed his ex-fiancée to the much needed bathroom.

Finally alone, John let himself loose. He felt his cheeks warm as he recalled every kiss and touch you two exchanged throughout the night. If the night goes on any longer, John would have no choice but completely claim you. Fuck whatever you and Ghost had. It would just be you and John Price, loving boyfriend, loyal fiancé, and eventually your devoted husband.

John washed those thoughts away as water ran through his hands. As much as he wanted you, he couldn't do that to his lieutenant. Ghost also deserved happiness and there it was incarnated as you. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he found himself suddenly being pushed back. Catching him off guard, Anna shoved him against the sink.

She cried out his name and shoved her face into his chest. "Can we please talk? I hate how things ended between us!" Price couldn't believe this woman.

"Fine, but get off of me," he ceded as he gently pushed her off. Anna wiped her nose and sniffled despite not having a single tear on her face. She took in a deep breath and pouted.

"I know what happened was wrong, but I think I was labeled the bad guy without having a chance to defend myself.”

"Well, I wouldn't call shagging my lieutenant while I'm away as heroic."

And instead of owning up to her mistake, Anna blamed it on John as 'he was gone all of the time.' As John heard the woman's excuses, he couldn't believe that he ever loved her. Now that you gave him a small taste of love, despite it being just a facade, he realized that what he and Anna had was nothing close to it.

Anna placed a hand on his chest, interrupting John from his thoughts. "And now seeing you here as a successful captain, I can't help but feel bad for..." Oh, maybe she was going to apologize after all. "...pushing you into the arms of that slag out there." What. "A man like you deserves a classy woman. So tell you what, I'll come back and we can pick up where we left off." What.

Any affection he possibly still harbored for this woman completely disintegrated. He got in her face. "You watch your mouth," he spat out. "(Y/N) is and will always be a better woman than you. You really think I would entertain the likes of you again when I have literal perfection by my side." Before Anna could rebuttal, a loud shriek followed by a resonant slap rung through the apartment.

John immediately rushed back to find Murphy hunched over, hand on his cheek, and you next to him with your dress slightly disheveled.

"You fucking bitch," roared Murphy, lifting his hand to strike you. John ran forward and pinned the man against the table, holding him down by his neck. His heart broke when he saw tears welling in your eyes.

John looked at you and asked, "What happened?" He tried softening his voice, but he couldn't completely mask his anger. He felt horrible. This was all his fault.

"The fucking cunt here seduced me, that’s what happened," responded Murphy through bates breath.

Further pushing him down, John spat out, "I wasn't talking you." He asked you again. With a wobble in your voice, you shared how Murphy made a move on you. Despite denying him, he grabbed you and tried kissing you. Left with no choice, you slapped him across the face.

"Don't act all innocent. You were literally begging for it all night," fought Murphy. John was in disbelief. Was this really the man he admired all those years ago? Of course it was. This was the same man that stole his fiancée. Ready to pummel his face, he looked back at you one more time and immediately calmed down. You looked so broken. Not wanting to further aggravate you, he steered away from violence... for now.

John lifted up the man and threw him towards his wife. "Honestly, you two are perfect for one another," he spat out, venom clear in his voice. “Two muppets that think way too highly of themselves when they have no reason to.”

He grabbed you by the hand and continued, “you two are nothing compared to (Y/N). I don't even come close but everyday I try to be a better man just for her unlike you two who seem to get worse with every day. Don’t you dare come tomorrow or I’ll promise I'll make both of your lives a living hell.” And with that, John made his way out with you in hand.

“Oh please, who do you think you are?,” accused Murphy, following closely behind.

You turned around. You had enough. With fire in your eyes, you decided to spit back. “He might not be able to do anything but I promise you, I can and will. I have access to enough information to destroy anyone's life, especially low-lifes like yours. So don’t you dare insinuate that either of us are beneath either of you. Because at the end of the day, John is a great man and I am the successful woman right by his side. I know my and John’s worth and trust me, neither of you come close.”

“You bitch!” snarled Murphy as he lunged for you. It seemed that he forgot that John was still an active soldier as the SAS captain immediately threw a punch in his face. Anna rushed to the man as blood gushed out his nose. With that, you and John stepped out of that disgusting apartment.

— — —

The ride home was quiet. The only sign that your captain was alive was the gentle hold that he had on your hand. Occasionally, his thumb would rub your hand but when you would squeeze back in recognition, he would stop. His face was blank. But you knew your captain. He was probably taking the blame for the entire night which was far from the truth.

The ride up the elevator was also quiet. You snapped when it seemed like the walk to the rooms was going to be quiet too.

“Okay John, what’s wrong?”

Silence.

“John, I’m not going to play this game with you. Tell me what’s wrong?”

Price stopped. He opened his mouth but immediately shut it, hesitant to speak

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you pleaded, “John, please, talk to me.” Your captain hung his head down and began to talk.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation. I should have known better. They disrespected you and I—.”

You interrupted him. “John, you weren’t the one who disrespected. If anything you defended me and made sure I was okay.” You cradled his face. “So stop blaming yourself for the actions of others, okay?” John grunted in agreement, eyes looking down.

“John,” you warned. He looked you in your eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled out. You laughed at his boyish antics.

In no time, you both reached your rooms that were side by side. Once inside, John Price would no longer be your fiancé. Before you entered your room, you called for him one last time.

“I just want you to know that I meant every word today. You really are the greatest man I know,” you said with a smile. You wanted to say more, tell him everything, but you knew you couldn’t. This would have to do. With that, you wished him a goodnight and slipped inside.

— — —

John walked in his room with a heavy heart.

Despite your praise, John didn’t consider himself a good man. A good man doesn’t pine after another man’s woman. Ghost truly was a lucky man. John just had to make do with having you so close but so far.

Thanks for reading! — Folded’s Page Guide + Masterlist

Author’s Notes: First ever COD fanfic! Woot woot! I hope y'all enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts! Imma be honest, everything I know about COD has been aquired through fanfic so if anything is wrong, oops. Also if this has been done before, please let me know as I genuinely didn't know.

Also super sorry for the lack of British/ Scottish accent in the characters. Literally have no clue on how to do it!

I'm still a pretty novice writer so advice and suggestions are always appreciated. I plan on writing more COD fics so if you're interested stick around.

[insomniac4000]

Off Her Head- ChrisMD

After an accident y/n reveals too much about her and Chris's relationship.

Y/N had always loved the chaos of a Sidemen shoot. The energy was infectious, a whirlwind of laughter, banter, and a touch of friendly rivalry. As she stood in the makeshift set, surrounded by her friends and fellow YouTubers, she felt a buzz of excitement in the air. Today was no different, except for one small detail: she had recently started dating ChrisMD, they had been together for a couple of months now and thigs were going well. They weren’t close friends before but their paths crossed more and more and as they did they found they had more in common and their relationship bloomed.

The latest charity match was coming up and as part of the promo for it The Sidemen were doing some videos with some Youtubers, going back to their roots with football challenges. As well as Y/N in this video was Chris, George and Arthur. Y/N wasn’t a football player like Chris or the Sidemen, but she was athletic and always up for some fun. Today was no different, even though she'd joked earlier about how she'd probably fall flat on her face trying to keep up with the boys.

It was an overcast afternoon at the pitch, and everyone was buzzing with energy. Harry, Ethan, George, Arthur, and Chris were already on the field, trading banter as usual while the camera crew set up. Y/N had been talking with Simon and Tobi about the challenge, feeling the familiar mix of excitement and slight nervousness that came with filming.

“Ready to embarrass yourself?” Chris teased as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His grin was boyish, his eyes twinkling with affection.

“Oh, absolutely,” Y/N replied with a matching grin on her face. There was something about that man that made her feel like a giddy school girl, being with him she felt like she was falling in love for the first time like a teenager.

The football challenges were straight out of a Chris video but more extreme, Y/N being the person she was got stuck straight in, always giving it 100% when the camera was rolling. Things were going relatively well, that was until Ethan came in with a tackle which was a little more aggressive than he intended. His boot come into contact with Y/N’s shin and she fell to the floor in a heap, grabbing her leg in pain as she did so.

 “Y/N!” Chris’s voice cut through the laughter as he rushed toward her, his face paling as he knelt beside her.

“I think I broke my leg,” she gasped, pain radiating from her ankle. The world around her blurred, laughter fading into a distant echo. She felt Chris's hands on her, checking her leg and trying to comfort her.

Ethan, trying to lighten the mood, said, "Aw, come on, it’s just a bruise, right? Shake it off!" He tried to laugh, not because he found it funny but because he didn’t want to the face the reality that he might have genuinely hurt her.

But the expression on Chris’s face told him otherwise. He saw the awkward angle of Y/N’s leg and immediately knew this was serious. "No, I think she’s really hurt."

Soon, the medical team was called, and after a few moments of evaluation, Y/N was whisked off to the nearest hospital. Chris, unable to hide his concern, insisted on going with her.

A short while later, Y/N found herself in a hospital room, the bright lights above making her squint. The doctors had confirmed her injury: a broken leg, and they’d set her up with a strong dose of painkillers, she was pretty sure she even heard the word ketamine at some point. She lay back against the pillows, her thoughts fuzzy but surprisingly light-hearted.

George, Arthur and Harry came to give Chris some support and Ethan also came mainly because he really wanted Y/N to be okay, he was feeling incredibly guilty.

“Look who’s awake!” Arthur exclaimed, bouncing on his heels. “How are you feeling, superstar?”

“So, how’s she doing?” Ethan asked, half-smiling as he watched Y/N blink slowly at the ceiling.

“She’s... well, she’s definitely feeling those painkillers,” Chris said, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked over at Y/N, who was gazing at him with a dreamy expression.

“Chris,” she said, her voice a little too loud and way too relaxed, “you’re so hot.” She mused with a sloppy smile on her face, the room erupted in laughter.

Chris’ face turned bright red. “Y/N, babe, maybe just... rest, yeah?”

But Y/N wasn’t about to rest. Not when the world was this soft and warm, and especially not when her wonderful, gorgeous boyfriend was sitting right beside her.

“He’s soooo hot,” she repeated, turning her head to face the group of amused friends. “Look at him! His eyes are like... like... ugh, they’re just perfect.”

Harry snorted, trying to keep it together. “Yeah, Chris, tell us more about those perfect eyes.”

“I can’t,” Chris muttered, his hand covering his face. “I’m begging you, don’t encourage this.” He warned the boys but he knew by their faces that his pleas were just going to fall on deaf ears.

“Oh, we’re definitely encouraging this,” George chimed in, grinning wickedly. “Y/N, what’s your favourite thing about Chris? Besides the eyes, obviously.”Top of Form

Bottom of Form

“Oh! His body!” she gushed, gesturing animatedly. “He’s fit and strong, and I love it! He could lift me with one hand if he wanted to!” She giggled at her own enthusiasm. “It’s a surprise you know, because he’s short and I don’t even think he’s that short but because he’s short people wouldn’t think he’s ripped but he is.

The boys exchanged looks, amusement dancing in their eyes. “I bet you are a fully satisfied in the bedroom?” Harry prodded, barely able to contain his laughter. He didn’t seriously think Y/N would answer but the high of her painkillers had reduced her inhibitions massively and at this moment she didn’t care what she was saying, or who was listening.

Y/N’s grin widened. “I’m fully satisfied! Chris has stamina, you know?” She waggled her eyebrows, the words flowing out of her mouth before she could think better of them.

“Y/N!” Chris exclaimed, mortified, burying his face in his hands. “Please stop!”

“Oh, come on!” George laughed. “This is gold! Keep going!”

“Yeah, Y/N, give us more details!” Ethan added, leaning closer, clearly enjoying the spectacle completely forgetting about the accident and the guilt he was feeling.

 “Oh, the details,” Y/N said, her voice hushed like she was sharing state secrets. She glanced around the room conspiratorially. “Chris... he’s got a really good tongue.”

“OH MY GOD!” Harry was doubled over, tears forming in his eyes as he tried to breathe through his laughter.

Ethan slapped Chris on the back. “Well done, mate. You’re clearly doing something right.”

Chris buried his face in his hands, his ears turning a deeper shade of red. “I hate all of you.”

Y/N, oblivious to her boyfriend’s embarrassment, continued to stare at him with adoration. “He’s just... so sweet, and he always takes care of me, and I love him so much,” she said dreamily, her words slurring a little.

Chris peeked out from behind his hands, his face softening despite the mortification. “I love you too, babe. But you really need to stop talking.”

George wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “Oh, this is gold. I swear, we’re never letting you live this down, Chris.”

The teasing continued for another few minutes, with the boys milking every ounce of comedy they could from the situation. Eventually, though, Y/N began to drift off into a peaceful, drug-induced sleep, leaving the room in relative silence.

Chris sighed in relief. “Finally.”

“You know she’s going to be so embarrassed when she remembers this,” Arthur said, grinning.

“Yeah, but not as embarrassed as you are right now,” Harry pointed out, clapping Chris on the shoulder.

After a while, the laughter died down, and the boys began to leave, one by one, offering hugs and promises to visit her again soon.

“Take care of her, Chris,” Ethan said as he left, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I always do!” Chris replied, shaking his head with a laugh.

When Y/N woke up a few hours later, the first thing she noticed was the dull ache in her leg. The second thing was the haze of memories that slowly began to drift back.

She blinked, groggy and confused. “Chris?”

“Hey,” Chris said softly, leaning forward. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” she groaned, then paused as a few more memories resurfaced. “Wait... what did I say earlier?”

Chris hesitated, trying to suppress a grin. “Uh, you were... very complimentary. About me.”

Y/N frowned. “Complimentary? How—” Then it hit her. All of it. “Oh no. Oh my God. Did I—did I talk about our... sex life?”

Chris couldn’t hold back the laugh this time. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

Y/N’s face turned bright red. “Oh my God! No! What did I say?!”

“Well,” Chris said, a mischievous smile on his lips, “apparently, I’ve got stamina. And a very good tongue.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning. “Kill me now.”

“Sorry, love, can’t do that. Besides, the boys loved it. They were asking all the questions.”

“I’m never showing my face around them again.”

Chris chuckled, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry. They’ll forget about it... eventually.”

Y/N peeked out from behind her hands, her cheeks still flushed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“A little,” he admitted with a grin. “But seriously, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “Yeah, me too. Even if I’m now the most embarrassing girlfriend on the planet.”

Chris smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not embarrassing. You’re perfect.”

She looked up at him, her embarrassment melting away as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know,” he replied softly, his hand squeezing hers. “I love you too. Even when you’re completely off your head.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re never letting me forget this, are you?”

Chris grinned. “Not a chance.”

And despite everything, Y/N couldn’t help but smile.

[msbigredmachine]

Santa Daddy - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

All the Tribal Chief wants for Christmas is you.

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 3.7k words

A/N: Sorry I brought this in so late, I got sick. Better late than never though! Enjoy!

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

It was Christmas morning. Your face was a picture of utmost focus as you wiped away the hair stuck to your forehead. It was a mini madness in your open layout kitchen, but at least it was your controlled chaos. In a few hours' time, a select mix of friends, co-workers and family members would converge at your place for a Christmas sleepover for the ages, to mark your first holidays as Roman Reigns' fiancée.

What a crazy eighteen months it has been for you. If anyone told you that within that timeframe, you would escape from your abusive boyfriend, move states, find a new job and a new place to live, you would have laughed in their face.

And Lord knows how you'd have reacted if they added that you'd be dating a professional wrestler in that same timeframe. And not just any wrestler, but the marquee name, the number one guy in WWE. But here you were. In the house you lived in together. Diamond ring on your finger. Prepping dinner and being quite giddy about it too. It had been a long time since you were giddy about anything, but that changed after you said yes to a coffee date with Roman a lifetime ago, it felt like now.

The honey-glazed chicken, roasted potatoes and gravy were ready, as were the salads and greens. Your centerpiece was undoubtedly the smoky Nigerian jollof rice you couldn't wait for everyone to taste. The chocolate was fragrant as it melted in the pot and the sweet crème caramel was setting nicely. You really wanted everything to go smoothly today. Dinner first, after which everyone would gather in the den for gift swaps, karaoke, play some raunchy adult games, then go to bed whenever they liked before leaving in the morning for their drives home. It was the perfect itinerary and you planned to make sure it was.

You were whisking the chocolate sauce on the stove when the shuffling of a familiar pair of size fifteens invaded your ears. Your heart pounded a little harder anfd your brown eyes lit up as he walked into the kitchen, drinking him in with your heart-shaped mouth curving into a smile. It was incredible how he gave off the exact same aura and energy as his grand entrances to the ring with just entering a small room. It was intimidating in the sexiest way.

"I see someone found one of their gifts." Your voice was soft and sweet - a tone you used only for him - with the gentle tinge of a tease. Your man looked so good in his red Christmas-themed pajama set that matched yours, which he complemented with a Santa hat covering the top of his head.

Roman came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your neck. "You look amazing in yours," he told you. Taking a deep breath, he welcomed your fragrance deep into his lungs. Your scent reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winter's day and the roaring fireplace several feet away in the living room. It reminded him of home. You were home.

"Merry Christmas, my beautiful wife-to-be. I love you." His voice was a low, tender rumble in your ear, and you shivered slightly as his hands massaged your waist, his warm breath caressing the sensitive nape of your neck.

"I love you too, Daddy. Merry Christmas," you greeted back, absorbing the aura, the love and affection radiating from him like a bright light. Gosh, how did you get so lucky, winding up with this incredibly handsome, sweet, gentle giant of a man as a life partner?

"It smells so good in here, babe," Roman complimented, dipping his finger in the gravy boat for a taste. "I wish you woke me up to help out," he added sheepishly.

You shook your head immediately. "Don't worry about it. You needed your rest from all the traveling you've been doing."

"What time do the festivities start again?"

You turned off the stove to temp the chocolate down and turned to him. "Not till like, three."

"Hmm, and it's only nine-thirty now. That's a whole lotta time to ourselves," he pointed out, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he tugged at the waistband of your pajama pants. "I know I got a lot of presents, but Daddy wants to open this one first. Can I?" he asked with a syrupy sweet voice that promised something much more carnal.

"That depends on if you were naughty or nice this year," you replied.

The dramatic pout that came with his puppy dog eyes was so cute. "I promise I've been a good boy."

You arched a manicured brow at him. "You sure? Not even the tiniest bit bad?"

Roman puffed out his chest and grinned proudly. "I'm positive. I made my woman very happy this year. That counts as good, right?"

The glittering rock on your finger answered that question. "Definitely," you agreed.

"Exactly. By the way, look up."

You followed his pointed finger. A sprig of mistletoe dangled from the cabinet right above you. You met your fiancé's stormy stare, and your pussy purred from the mischief and lust you saw in them. You licked your lips with anticipation, knowing full well he was going to have his way with you, like he always did. Like you always wanted him to.

"C'mere." He guided your face to his own with his hand on the back of your neck. Your hands clutched his broad shoulders as your lips melded together in a soft, passionate dance. You stood in the kitchen for what felt like hours, worshiping each other's mouths, the smacking of your lips and hushed sighs mingling with the soft Christmas ballad playing through Alexa.

As you kissed, Roman couldn't help but get turned on. He let his hands slip down into the back of your pants and over your backside, molding your bare ass cheeks in his palms while you pressed yourself against him. You continued the increasingly intense makeout session, neither of you seeming to be in any hurry to stop.

"Santa Daddy thinks you've been a good girl this year," he murmured against your lips, "so good that you deserve a special present."

"Mmm, I love presents, Santa Daddy," you replied, allowing him to pick you up and place you on the countertop. He stepped into the space between your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, while your arms curled around his shoulders as you dove into the kiss. He caressed your mouth with his luscious tongue in a way that made your knees weak. Your hands and his moved in unison, pulling off each other's clothes until you were both completely nude. The second your top was off, his fingers teased your nipples, which instantly pebbled at his touch. His broad chest was hard and warm against your palms, and you scratched your nails along his ribs just to hear him hiss in a breath right before his mouth latched onto your throat. You whimpered and gripped his hair. God, his mouth and tongue felt so good on your skin. He nibbled and sucked on you while massaging your right breast, and you felt the pit of stomach heat up with the rabid need for your pussy to be filled. The moisture pooling between your thighs could probably fill a lake.

With your eyes closed as you savored the sensations, you never quite saw him take the pot of chocolate, dip the whisk in it and wave it over your nipples. The chocolate that dripped onto your skin seared with heat, but his tongue was there to quickly lick it away before the pain registered as anything more than a turn-on.

"Mmm, that's tasty," he commented.

You watched him and his lethal mouth like a hawk. "You like that, Daddy?" you inquired, resting back on your elbows.

"Oh, I do." He drizzled more chocolate over your breasts. Your mind swam as he took his time sucking each soft flesh, activating your erogenous pressure point. He then dipped his finger in the warm chocolate then made a long trail down your lower belly. He licked that away, then used two fingers to paint your entire pussy with the hot chocolate, his face a mask of concentration as he worked on his masterpiece. Your body jerked and you sucked in a breath at the fire that raged between your legs. Then his tongue was down there, splitting your soft folds apart to delve into your sweetened essence.

Yanking the Santa hat off his head, your fingers threaded through his messy ponytail, pulling his face flush against you, writhing against him and begging for more. "Unnnh, babe, that feels so good," you groaned, your brain growing fuzzy as he French-kissed your pussy, pleasure licking at you with the same devastating impact as his tongue. "Fuck, baby, I love you!"

"I know," Roman moaned back, pushing your thighs further apart. "Spread your legs, baby...wider," he instructed you, his burly arms winding around your thighs and yanking you closer to him. "Mmm, perfect. Imma eat you off this counter, girl."

And he was. With gusto. Desperate for release, you tried to squirm but he had you pinned down to the kitchen island, keeping you still. You were panting hard as the tension coiled tighter in your belly. You were almost there, just a step away from that cliff, when he nuzzled his face against your wet pussy and flicked your hard little clit with his thumb. The pressure sent you over the edge and you moaned through the orgasm, your back arching against the cool surface of the counter. Your string of moans was an aphrodisiac to Roman, and he kept up his tender licking and sucking until your legs fell from his shoulders and you gave a shuddering sigh.

"Jesus," you whispered.

Roman resembled a kid in a candy store with his beard stained with cum and chocolate, eyes bright and lust-filled. He looked up, licked his lips with a smug smile and said, "Nothing tastes as good as you, baby," he praised, and your ego swelled. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel good. Twining your fingers in his, he pulled you upright and kissed your lips, sharing your tangy sweetness with you.

"Your turn," you announced, and slid carefully off the counter, pushing him to sit on one of the stools. You moved to take the pot of chocolate, but the three mason jars filled with homemade caramel sauce caught your eye. A devious little idea popped up in your head. Grabbing one, you unscrewed the cover, licking the sauce around the rim before grabbing Roman's dick with one hand, bringing the jar up to his plum-shaped tip.

"Fuck, girl," Roman shivered, his eyes wide when you dunked his dick right inside the jar. Your eyes shone excitedly as you pulled him back out, the thick, succulent syrup dripping down his pipe and around the rim of your hand.

"Mmm, look at all this sweetness on your dick, Daddy," you moaned, bending at the waist to capture his cock between your lips, your husky sigh vibrating against his sensitive skin. Roman moaned softly as you angled your bobbing head, sliding his dick further down your throat with the same rhythm as your hand stroking him, the sensations leaving him boneless.

"Shiiiit, just like that, baby, eat up my dick like a good girl, how's it taste, huh?" he managed to ask.

"Good," you hummed, working your tongue from the tip of his dick down to the veiny underside of his shaft, causing his breathing to grow labored as his cock throbbed in your hand.

"Oh my god, your tongue, dem juicy lips," Roman clutched your hair, watching you intensely. "Keep suckin' my dick, baby, show me what that mouth do."

Wordlessly, you drew his cock deeper into your mouth with a deep breath and started sucking him with only your jaw doing all of the work. His dick was more than sizable, but was no match for your mouth. Daddy had trained you well to handle all of that fat dick with your mouth and pussy. You paused to scoop more caramel sauce with his dick like a spoon, licking off every drop off his shaft with lavish swipes of your tongue.

"Put some on my balls," Roman instructed.

He held his dick up and out of the way while you rubbed a mix of chocolate and caramel all over his balls. As you sucked on them, Roman slowly massaged his dick, occasionally slapping your face with it. The visual of your arched back mesmerized him, the deliberate twerking of your plump ass cheeks as you pleasured him short-circuited his brain. Even hotter was the sight of his balls hidden in your mouth and the sauce mixture smeared on your chin. The contrast of the dark substance on your brown skin was so fucking sexy.

"That's it, baby, that's it...shit!" The Tribal Chief's deep voice was a strangled gasp, his breaths becoming even shallower as you popped his balls out to recapture his dick. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, lost in toe-curling pleasure as you lodged him in the back of your throat, your warm mouth swallowing around the base of his shaft like a suction. It was his turn to fidget in place, his fingers digging into your scalp as ecstasy loomed ever closer. "Baby I'm gon' come," he whined.

You moaned at his warning, the vibrations shuddering around his length. Your eyes locked with his as he started to fall apart. With a loud groan, he held your head still and gasped helplessly with each spurt of his cum gushing down your throat, his hips bucking from the force of his release. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt you swallow, drinking your fill, your tongue lapping up whatever you spilled. You pulled him out and gulped air back into your lungs, then glanced back up at him with those mischievous pretty eyes, pursing your pouty lips against his blunt head and making his cock twitch in your grasp.

"How the fuck am I still hard?" he half-laughed, half-choked, earning a proud grin from you.

"I got that magic mouth, baby," you declared haughtily, twisting your hand around him in gentle soothing strokes, "And you got this magic dick. You gonna put it on me, Santa Daddy? I know you want to."

"Damn right." He got off the chair and spun you around, bending you over the kitchen table. The tabletop remained cold against your bare, chocolate-streaked skin, and you shivered in response. It was only seconds before he guided your hands to grip the edges of the table in front of you. You moaned softly as he nudged your legs wider apart, hiking your ass slightly higher to press himself up against you.

"Ay, Alexa, turn that shit off, I wanna hear my girl scream for me," he growled at the air, and you burst out laughing when the kitchen fell into an abrupt silence.

His hard dick throbbed between your ass cheeks. He ran the thick head up and down the slit of your pussy lips. When he pushed the first few inches in, you whined pitifully. Your velvety womanhood pulled him in, eking a groan from the Tribal Chief as his big hands roamed your back and ass. His thrusts were slow at first, savoring the feel of your tight, wet pussy tugging at him with each languid stroke. You responded by bucking up against him, luring him even deeper into your body. You moaned together in mutual pleasure.

"God, so tight, so wet...bomb ass pussy," he grunted, smacking your ass and squeezing on the soft juicy flesh, knowing it would make you that much wetter as he stretched you open with that good dick. Your keening moans were nothing but fuel for him; he knew you loved it when he fucked you deep and hard and a little rough, ticking all your little sexual boxes that no one but him knew about. His rhythm was steady yet heavy, keeping you on edge with deep strokes right up on your g-spot. Leaning over you, he swept your hair out of your face to kiss your cheek, a hushed moan slipping from his throat when you squirmed against him, pressing your ass closer to his hips every time he pushed into you.

With the table pressing into your belly and his body trapping you against it, you felt his dick swell inside you, girthier and harder with every thrust. Your body was so sensitized from your previous orgasm that you felt another one build in record time. You wanted your second nut so bad, and you rolled your ass against him, hoping to put enough pressure on your clit to bring it on.

"Unnh yeah, throw that sexy ass back at me," Roman grunted with another hard smack to your ass which jiggled from the impact of his big hand. Said hand then made its way into your hair, the other gripping your waist as he grinded against you and you against him. He loved it; loved you, loved the feel of your bodies moving together, your juices dripping all over his dick, loved the fact that you couldn't seem to control the noises you were making as the kitchen echoed with the erotic sound of them.

"Oh, baby, I'm fuckin' close," you whimpered through your moans.

"How close?" he asked, his lips brushing soft kisses between your shoulder blades and trailing them down your back. His warm breath and his soft beard tickled your skin, and too aroused to answer, you merely whimpered again and bounced your ass more impatiently on his dick. The tension was there in your belly, swirling around so close to explosion, and you needed it like you needed air.

Roman's grip on your hair strengthened, anchoring himself to you. "Don't move. Lemme get that pussy." He was like a Ferrari engine, accelerating with harder pummeling thrusts that filled you to the brim. He was now balanced on just the balls of his feet in an effort to drive deeper into you, pounding you out until you were leaking down your thighs and all over his dick and balls. It felt so good. Too good.

"Yes, Daddy, beat that shit up...unnhhh, my god, I'm coming," you moaned long and loud as you unraveled like flimsy wrapping paper. Stars sparked behind your eyelids as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you shaking uncontrollably from its intensity.

"Mmm, there you go sweetheart, soak my dick,  come all over it," he snickered proudly, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "Was that nut good, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, so good," you grinded out, lightheaded, your eyes glazed over and unfocused, even more so as you felt his hand spread over the back of your neck and hold you down to the countertop, his hips winding against your ass as he stayed burying his long, girthy dick in your warm, snug depths.

"Good, cuz I'm 'bout to nut too...shit, baby girl, this pussy amazing...You gon' make me put a kid in you..."

The thought of him breeding you with his seed had your pussy clenching around his cock, the suckling sensation reducing his husky taunts into yet another helpless moan. You could tell from his breathing that he was indeed close, his frenzied thrusts becoming sloppier as white-hot pleasure surged through both of your bodies in incredible waves.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Roman grunted, squeezing your hips for dear life as something snapped inside him. Slamming his dick into you one last time, he went completely rigid with a shout as he came hard for you. The warm wet spurts of cum emptying inside you caused your body to shiver against his as you milked his dick dry. His heavy weight kept you pressed into the hard marble table, both of you so limp that it didn't seem to matter that you couldn't breathe. Somehow, you managed to stand back upright, making him do the same behind you. As he wrapped you up in a hug, he was still inside you, and you tilted your head up to gently bite his bottom lip before licking at his tongue. It made him smile, and you couldn't help but smile back as he shared a long, greedy kiss with you before finally pulling out with a groan, slapping your backside one more time as he stepped away.

"Save some of that chocolate stuff for us," he said, grinning when you shot him a questioning look. "I want you to use 'em on me again later tonight."

You picked up the two sets of pajamas off the floor. "Hmm, you won't be too tired from dinner and all that?"

"Too tired to fuck you? Never, my baby girl."

"Then I'll make sure to bring a jar of each." You laughed as his Adams apple and his cock bobbed simultaneously, his imagination running wild with all the nasty things you would do to him.

"Good idea. Nah, scratch that, great idea," he corrected himself with a chuckle, lifting you into his arms bridal-style and carrying you out of the kitchen. "Right now, we both need a shower."

"Why do I got a feeling this 'shower' is gonna keep our guests waiting?"

He laughed with you and ascended the stairs. "You know me so well."

It was two p.m. by the time he was through with you. When you determined that your legs could function properly again, you dragged yourself out of his bed, changed into another set of pajamas and made your way back downstairs to put the finishing touches on the food and the rest of the house. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when this man came up behind you and ran his hands all over your body. His dick was hard.

"Again?" you breathed, biting back a gasp when he started undoing the strings of your pants. The guests would be arriving anytime soon.

"Just one more," he groaned huskily in your ear, grabbing a jar of chocolate sauce, "I've missed you so much, baby, I need to taste you one more time..."

About half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Jey and his wife Larissa were your first guests. When the front door opened, they took one good look at you and Roman; disheveled clothing, hair out of place, the smear of sauce over your left breast and on the corner of Roman's lips, and put two and two together.

"Y'all nasty," Larissa giggled and entered the house, with Jey merely shaking his head behind her.

🎄THE END🎄

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

This is definitely my final story for the year. I'm so proud of how many I was able to churn out and EXTREMELY happy and proud of how much you all like it. Thank you all, I appreciate all your support and feedback more than you'll ever know! 🥺

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

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[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 9

Hey guys! Only one chapter of this one this week, I promise. But it's the chapter. The best chapter.

Eddie comes home! And Steve gets help in the kitchen.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8

~

Eddie insisted on having a cook come in and make dinner three times a week. That included Steve’s day off, so he would be cooking for most of their meals but that he would have help on those three days.

Steve disregarded professional chefs right off the bat. Eddie didn’t need to pay some big named star to make mediocre food for the girls. And would have stuck to that if the best candidate wasn’t a French Culinary school graduate with having owned two Michelin star restaurants.

His name was Benny Hammond and he was retired. He just wanted something fun to do in his spare time. Steve talked about what the girls liked, what recipes he had and when Eddie would be home.

“I haven’t cooked for kids in ages,” he said with a grin. “That sounds like a fun challenge. Count me in!”

Just after one week with Benny making all the meals, Eddie cackled an ‘I told you so!’ on his evening call with the girls.

“I didn’t realize how much energy all the cooking was taking until I had a day without doing it,” Steve whined.

“He made us grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup,” Joan said brightly. “It was nummy, Daddy.”

“And the soup didn’t even come in a can!” Janice crowed. “Not even the tomatoes.”

“It was better than how I make it,” Steve grumbled into Joan’s hair.

But Eddie caught it anyway. “Sounds like someone was right. So what do we say, Stevie?”

Steve wanted to pout but that would set a really bad example for the girls so he straightened up and sighed. “Thank you Eddie. Benny was the final piece of the puzzle we all needed to for a well run household.”

“Good!” Eddie said brightly. “I have some news. It’s bad news for the band, but good news for everyone else.”

Both girls perked up and started talking over each other as they tried to guess what it was.

“Joanie! Janie!” Eddie barked from the tablet Steve was holding. “If you’ll let me talk, I’ll be able to tell you.” Once both girls had settled, Eddie cleared his throat. “Thanks to a major hurricane, the last two shows have been combined into one big fundraiser for the towns devastated by the storm.”

“I heard about that on the news,” Steve said with a nod. “I’m sorry the tour has to wrap up early, though. I know you were really looking forward to playing in Ashville.”

“It is what it is,” Eddie said resigned. “But all proceeds will go to disaster relief so some good will come out of it.”

“Well, that’s good,” Steve murmured. “I’ve got to get these little munchkin to their bath, but I guess we’ll see you on Saturday.”

“So you will,” Eddie replied warmly. “Good night, girlies!”

“Night, Daddy!” Janice and Joan chorused. Then they clambered off Steve’s lap and tore off for their bedroom.

Steve turned off the app and laid the tablet down with a sigh. It was a good thing that Eddie was coming home. He just felt conflicted about how soon it was now. He thought he would have more to get his emotions under control.

~

Janice and Joan wanted to dress up really nice for their dad so Steve helped them pick out their outfits.

Janice had completely surprised Steve when she pulled out a pretty plaid skirt and a white blouse. She was such a tomboy most of the time, that he wasn’t even aware she had skirts and dresses in her closet.

Joan wore a matching plaid jumper dress with a similar style in blouse. They even had matching black Mary Jane shoes.

Steve had never seen them look more like twins in the whole time he had known them. They even asked him for matching French braid pigtails.

Janice and Joan sat in front of the window, anxiously waiting for the Uber that would be dropping their dad off so they could see him in person for the first time in months. Steve had originally tried to distract them from the ever present ticking clock, but gave up about an hour in.

They were just too keyed up.

Then an unknown silver SUV pulled up to the house and out Eddie popped. The girls started screaming and jumping up and down.

“Girls go get your signs!” Steve said brightly and they ran off to grab the signs they had made yesterday.

The door opened to a very bedraggled Eddie and the second he saw his girls with matching outfits and cute little signs saying Welcome Home, he dropped to his knees. He threw open his arms and both girls dogpiled him.

There were tears flowing down all three of their faces. Eddie picked them both up and walked toward the sofa, then he carefully lowered himself onto its surface.

Steve just smiled and walked away.

He made his way to the kitchen where Benny was slaving away at marvelous homecoming meal. Steve leaned up against the doorway and watched as the large chef chopped away at some vegetables. His skill was always fun to watch.

“I thought I told you that you weren’t allowed in the kitchen when I work,” Benny said without turning around.

Steve huffed out a breathy laugh. “I’m following your rule, you grumpy old man. I’m not in the kitchen.”

Benny turned around and sniffed. “Close enough.” He looked up at the clock. “Shouldn’t the master of the house be home by now.” He waved to a bar stool for Steve to take a seat.

“He’s here,” Steve said, sitting down. “But I don’t know him well enough to know if he’s the kind of man that likes crying in front of other adults. Especially ones he doesn’t know well.”

Benny stopped for a moment and then nodded, going back to his chopping. “That’s fair. You’re like me, when things get too emotional, we come to kitchen to work out those emotions.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding back. “I love having you here. It makes taking care of the girls so much easier...”

“But sometimes you wish that you can just come into the kitchen and make something?” Benny finished. “Next time you feel that way, let me know and I’ll teach you a technique or a new recipe, all right?”

“Thanks, Benny.”

After a few minutes of contented silence Benny spoke, “You should probably go check on them and makes sure they’re alive enough to eat my dinner.”

Steve laughed, slapping a hand the counter and getting up. “You got it.”

He wandered back to the front room but no one was there. Steve frowned and went to Eddie’s office, but they weren’t there either. He put his hands on his hips and pursed his lips. Where could they have gone?

He tapped his lips thoughtfully and the darted up the stairs, taking them at two at a time. He reached the top in no time at all and sure enough he could hear giggling. With a sigh of relief he walked to the girls’ room and pushed open the partially closed door.

Joan had decorated Eddie’s hair with ribbons while Janice read “Opposites” to him in a very serious tone.

Steve couldn’t hold back the bark of laughter when he saw the absolutely besotted expression on Eddie’s face.

Eddie looked up in shock and then when he saw who it was, he grinned. “Do I look pretty?”

“The prettiest,” Steve confirmed, moving further into the room. “Benny sent me in search of everyone because dinner is almost ready.”

Eddie’s face really lit up. “Ooh. He asked me what my favorite dish was and is making it for me. I’m really excited to see what a Michelin chef can do with poor people food.”

The girls both made faces and Steve gave them a look. “Remember when you went to Maria’s birthday party and the cake was carrot and you didn’t like it?”

Both girls nodded and Eddie looked suddenly interested in the new lesson they learned. “What’s this?” he asked gleefully.

“When it’s someone else’s day,” Joan said, “they can have whatever they want for their party.” She scuffed her shoe on the carpet. “So since it’s Daddy’s homecoming day, he can have whatever he wants.”

Eddie cackled in satisfaction. “Yes, girls that is a very important lesson to learn. It’s hardly my fault you inherited your Papa’s palate. I like it and so we are going to have it for dinner.”

“I’ve seen it,” Steve said, barely concealing a smile. “It looks fantastic. I can’t wait to try it.” He bent down to the girls’ level. “Remember the three bite rule. You take three regular sized bites and if you don’t like it, you can have something else.”

Joan nodded solemnly but Janice’s face as twisted up in distaste. Steve just shook his head. “Go wash your hands, girls and then join us at the dinner table.”

Both girls were off with a flash and Steve held out his hand to help Eddie to his feet. Once on his feet Eddie flashed him a broad smile that really showed off those dimples. He looked...cute.

Just then the door to the girls’ bathroom burst open and Steve dropped Eddie’s hand. Not quick or harsh. Just a simple act of letting go.

“I’ll race you to the table!” Eddie crowed, ducking around Steve.

Both girls squealed in delight and they were off like a shot, tearing down the stairs like a herd of elephants being told that it was peanut time.

Steve followed more slowly behind just soaking up how happy the girls were that their dad was home at last. The trip had clearly done Eddie good. He had color in his cheeks and his shoulders were no longer up around his ears, like dog expecting to be hit. Time away from the girls really helped him out.

“Come sit by me!” Joan cried when he entered the dinning room. She patted the spot between her and across from Eddie.

Eddie lit up at that and grinned at Steve. “Looks like you’re stuck with us now, Stevie boy! Once Joanie’s got her hooks in ya, you can’t leave.”

Steve smiled and shook his head fondly. “That would imply that I would want to leave in the first place.” He bopped Joan’s nose and she giggled. “And that would never happen ever!”

Just then Benny came in hold a large casserole dish. It had tatter tots covered with cheese and it just smelled heavenly. Benny set it on the table and began serving them. Inside was fresh peas and carrots and shredded beef in a mushroom sauce, gently seasoned with herbs and spices. Steve couldn’t wait to dig in.

Eddie was served first and he bit into that first bite. The moan of pleasure that escaped his lips, caused Steve’s eyes to roll back and flutter shut as he tried to think of very gross things to keep his embarrassing erection to a minimum.

“Benny!” Eddie cried. “This is amazing! You really out did yourself.” He grabbed the spoon from the dish and brandished it at Steve and the twins. “Mine! All for me!”

Steve laughed and then took a bite of his own and his eyes snapped up. “Sorry girls, but it appears I’m going to have duel your dad for the rest of this casserole.”

“Betrayed!” Eddie said, clutching the spoon to him. Suddenly he got a wicked gleam in his eye and he licked the spoon.

“Ewww...” Janice crowed.

“Gross!” Joan agreed.

Steve just shook his head and turned back to his meal. He wasn’t going to do something in front of the girls, because it would be the wrong lesson to teach, but he was highly tempted to grab the spoon and lick another stripe right next to Eddie’s. But for now he would bide his time.

The two girls managed to eat about half before declaring they wanted something else. So Benny took them into the kitchen to fix them something they would eat.

Steve leaned over and whispered, “Jokes on you, I’m a nanny, a little spit won’t deter me from what I want.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and he shoved his hair in front of his face to hide his blush as Steve helped himself to another spoonful of the casserole.

Steve ate in smug silence as Eddie took a moment to come back online. He cleared his throat a couple of times but didn’t dare speak.

Once Steve had eaten his fill, he picked up the girls’ dishes and piled them on his plate. He stood up but before turning away to take the dishes into the kitchen, he said softly. “I’m glad you’re home too.”

Eddie looked up at him in awe and nodded. “It’s good to be home, Stevie. It’s so good to be home.”

Steve smiled and walked away.

~

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

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10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon @yesdangerpls

[badnoahmens]

I took your keys, it was me

Noah Sebastian x Reader

A/N - One of the longest fics I’ve written. Please let me know if it is too much drabble (but also please be nice because I am a fragile little person) and also I’m sorry if there’s typos because I just do that sometimes.

Based off of something that happened at a Bad Omens show, how could I not write about this fantasy? Watch the first few seconds of this to get what I mean. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLYKGjCV/

The night had finally arrived, the concert that you had been waiting months for. For the first time, Bad Omens was playing in your city, and it didn’t matter how much tickets were going to cost you or how long you would have to work to build your funds up again, there was no way you could be stopped from going. Your friends like them too, and shared the excitement, but you would never admit how much their music had a chokehold on your life. Whether it be the thrashing drums of ‘Artificial Suicide’ pumping you up for the day, or the moody solemn tones of ‘The Fountain’ that made you cry at 2am, this band was a big part of who you were.

Your outfit was planned, a classic you always felt confident in, and your schedule for the night was mapped out. The easiest way was to drive yourself there, meet up with your friends, and then make your way into the venue. With the price of VIP being way out of your budget, you couldn’t bring yourself to justify it. Seeing them live would have to be enough, and of course it would be.

When the night came, the stars seemed to align for you. Finding a car park nice and close, only a 5 minute walk to the venue, as well as somehow magically not being late to meeting up with your friends. The energy inside of you was buzzing and you had a bounce in your step as you walked up to see your friends all huddled at the end of the line. They welcome you with embracing arms and you all talk about how you ‘can’t believe the night is finally here!’

“What song are you most looking forward to?” your friend asks, now about an hour into waiting in the line, sitting now with legs crossed and looking back at the growing line behind you.

“I’m really hoping they play Miracle. That song's progression and build up is just something else. Can you imagine what it would be like?” you reply with enthusiasm. The conversation continues for the remainder of the evening as you wait patiently for the show to begin.

After more time has passed, the line begins to move. The doors have opened and people are starting to funnel their way into the dark room. Although it was calm before, the energy of everyone waiting to see this sold-out show picks up instantly and the volume begins to grow with excited chatter.

Your group splits up, some heading into the crowd for a good spot to watch the show, others head for the merch line, and at least one headed straight to the bar. You opt in for the crowd. Being a seasoned concert-goer, you stuck to the right hand side, knowing this is where a lot of movement happens and it was more likely you could get a closer view.

The supporting band started and the crowd lurched forward, still not reaching the maximum capacity as people were still floating about. Your legs trip a little underneath you before you finally find your footing. A familiar riff begins to play and the opening band takes their turns making their entrance to the stage. The light was dim so only silhouettes could be seen, but it was a thrilling way to start the night. The band continued to play an entertaining show, interacting with the crowd and thanking everyone for coming to see them. With about a 30 minute set, they truly put in all their effort by playing crowd favorites, new songs, and even a call-back to their earlier music that was a personal favorite.

By the end of their allocated time, they thanked the crowd, tossed out their remaining guitar picks and drum sticks, and then headed off backstage. There was quiet music playing off the speakers now while everyone in the crowd used this time to catch their breath. Others needed a break from the sweaty mosh pit, and left to take care of whatever business they needed to. The group in front of you decided to head out, and kindly offered you their spot. You obliged, barely even hearing them ask if you wanted to move up, and slipped by them as they made their way out. By the time you manage to steady yourself, you realize it is only a single row back from the front of the crowd, the barricade almost within your reach. You didn’t want to push it though, knowing how long some of these people waited to have their spot up front, you just stood your group and hoped there would be an opening at some stage.

Even without any band playing, the crowd was still moving quite a bit, to the point where people were getting a little rowdy. It seemed as though some were growing more impatient as time went by and were trying to move around and gain a more advantageous position. Throughout this movement, someone was shoved, acting like dominoes into your direction, knocking a few people over. As you start to feel this happening, your hand instinctively throws itself to the barricade, reaching between two people to stop yourself from crashing down on top of the people next to you. In doing this, you catch the person who falls on you, a teenage boy by the looks of things. He looked a little embarrassed and even a little flustered, but thanked you and righted himself quickly. Those who were in front of you saw that you had reached up to help yourself, and then did their best in the crowded space to assist you where you coud. Two nice strangers parted just enough for you to stand upright and motioned for you to join them along the front. WIth all the movement occurring, you thought it was probably the safest move to have something to hang onto, not to mention it was the best spot in the house.

Almost as though it was timed, just as you got into your new position, the lights dimmed and the crowd absolutely roared with cheer. You could feel the crowd move in waves behind you with pressure crashing into you. In what looked like slow motion, figures began to grace the stage with their presence, with the soundtrack of a low, slow and suspenseful drum beat starting to fill the room. It was almost hard to hear the guitar and bass begin over the noise the crowd was making, some sounding like caged animals as they screamed bloody murder.

The lights lifted in time with the melody that began, and lo and behold, Noah was standing in front of you. His eyes were shut with one hand pressed up to his ear, a microphone held in his other hand. Jolly was next to him with a stoic look on his face, and Nick Rufilo on his other side, looking down as he strummed the tune being played out. Nick Folio was behind them all, sat up on a raised box adorned with his drum kit, gently beginning to build the heartbeat of the song.

It took you a moment to truly wrap your head around what was happening, Bad Omens we’re finally playing in front of you. In person. Barely a few feet away from you. It’s mere seconds after this happens that electricity runs through your body and you’re immediately jumping along to the hook of the song, ‘Nowhere To Go’. The barricade in front of you was a saving grace as you could feel the swell of people behind you tossing themselves around, breaking apart spaces to dance and thrash about. It didn’t take long before crowd surfers began to topple over you, falling into the arms of security guards that dappled the empty space between you and the stage. You were shoulder to shoulder with strangers, but it didn’t matter anymore. These people were your people because you were in a space where nothing even mattered other than the performance you were witnessing.

The first song comes to a close too soon, and the next begins, each member of the band not missing a beat. You could see it in their eyes that they were just as excited as you were for this show. Noah in particular seemed to be in a good mood, shuffling, dancing and bopping around on the stage, seemingly less serious than normal. He was blowing kisses to his bandmates, to which would send them right back to him. They laughed and joked during the performance and it made the whole show that much more entertaining.

More songs came to a close, and it seemed like Noah himself needed a break from the high-energy show he was putting on. The crowd was starting to settle down, still swaying with the songs but the initial throw of bodies had started to slow. During this rare break in music, your hand swiftly brushed against your pocket and you noticed the lack of contents that should have been there. Your car keys, that you literally needed to get out of here, were no longer clipped and safely tucked away in your pocket. A panic begins to wash over you and your eyes dark around the crowded space as best you could. Leaning over the barricade, you check to see if you can see them, if they had somehow shimmied down and onto the floor there, but to no avail. Your feet are shuffling around in the hopes to maybe, just maybe, kick them or feel them in some way, but there is nothing but other people's shoes and the odd drink can that had been carelessly discarded.

It was then when your ears pricked at the sound coming from in front of you.

“Are you okay? You drop something?” and then nothing followed. Amidst your panic your eyes dart up, meeting those of Noah looking down at you. His chest was still heaving slightly, seemingly out of breath himself, but he seemed genuinely concerned about the state you were in. “You alright?” he asks, with the crowd looking around with confusion.

“My keys,” you call back, trying to break above the sound barrier that was the chatter of the crowd around you. Noah looks perplexed as he tries to decipher what you’re saying. It still hasn’t quite hit you that Noah was checking in on you, and you can tell he didn’t quite hear you, so you repeat yourself again. “Keys!”

“Keys! Oh, we need those” Noah retorts, and leans over his perch on the stage so that he towers over you in the crowd. He seems to peer down at the space in front of you, and then drops down into the photo pit right where you stood. It was starting to dawn on you that the singer of your favorite band, the one you had been waiting so long to see, was standing in front of you, at his own concert, paused, for your own benefit. It wasn’t long that you shared this space with him, as he jumped back onto the stage, throwing one long limb up behind the other back to help him get back to his position.

“You’re staying here forever, with us!” he jokes, but there was something to his voice. It seemed odd that he seemed to help for such a short amount of time, even at all. But it was understandable, he had a show to run, and you were just attending said show.

As Noah paced to the side of the stage, he was swinging a small trinket in his hands, curling his long fingers and then catching it again in the palm of his hand. The familiar glint of one of your keychains sparkled in the red lights shining down on them as they were tossed in Noah’s hands, spinning your car keys tauntingly in front of you. Unbeknownst to you, Noah had helped, he had found your keys, and then, being the pesky prankster he was, had stolen them right from you.

“I took your keys! It was me” he admits, finally dangling them and then tossing them to a crew member side of stage in one fell swoop. It took you longer than you would like to admit to closing your mouth after it hung ajar with shock, and Noah laughed to himself at your reaction. Bewildered, and honestly shocked at what had just happened, Noah couldn’t seem to wipe his shit-eating grin off his face. He was proud of himself, but you? Honestly, like, come on dude, those are your keys, you really need those. How were you going to get them back? Who even had them? What if you really can’t get them back? Questions circled your mind as the world around you continued to move on.

“Alright, so anyway…” Noah moved on, giving instructions to the crowd on how he wanted them to interact with the following song, to which they of course obliged. You on the other hand were still so perplexed, that honestly, it made it difficult to focus on what was happening. Despite this occurring, the rest of the night continued smoothly, no more disruptions from crowd-members misplacing their shit, and the band performed an incredible show regardless of your confused state that slowly lifted the further on in the show you got.

By the time the show came to an end, the encore had played out, and the band was waving their goodbyes, it came to your attention that you really needed to do something now about getting those keys back. But before you got their attention, all four members of Bad Omens were walking away from you with their backs turned in your direction. You called out again, leaning half of your body over the barricade, but to no avail. Defeated, your face falls into your hands, elbows propped up on the cool metal in front of you.

What now? Do you call a cab? Did you even still have your phone, or was that lost too? More and more questions circled your head, making you feel dizzy and overwhelmed. The strangers who neighbored you in the crowd asked if you needed help, but you thanked them and sent them on their way. This was your mess, plus, your other friends were here somewhere too, so surely they could help you out instead. You turn now, leaning back against the barricade, and start scanning your eyes at the emptying venue. A small tap on your shoulder brings you out of your concentration and makes you jump a little. With your head whipping around, you saw it was someone unfamiliar, but obviously a person with the credentials that allowed them to be on the other side of the metal barrier.

“You the one who lost their keys?” he asks, a quizzical look on his face, voice slightly louder than the background music now echoing in the venue.

“Yeah, that's me. Although I think it’s more like having my keys stolen” you retort with a laugh and a little disbelief still. The man opposite you laughs at the remark and looks off to the side.

“Look, if you’re quick to jump over, you can come get them. I think I know who took them and they’re around the back.” His hand motions to the side of the room towards the end of the stage, and there is a clear, small opening that you could fit past. Disregarding any ‘stranger danger’ knowledge from growing up, you trust this man and slip past the barricade, feeling a little out of place after being home in the crowd for the majority of the night.

“I’m Miles, it’s nice to meet you. Did you have a good time?” he asks as you start to follow him around the side of the stage, clearly trying to entertain you with small talk and ease your obvious nerves just a little. You answer him, including by introducing yourself and explaining the pickle that the key-stealing-fiasco has put you in. He seemed genuine, sharing stories of other pranks he had seen the band pull off, but did apologize after knowing that it made you feel worried during the show.

Your concern starts to grow the longer you follow this man, despite his tales of being the band's manager, and sharing some of their antics. You tell him about the lead up to today, and how long you had been waiting for this show to be announced, to which he apologized again, explaining some conflict they had with touring schedules and whatnot. It all seemed pretty genuine, but it was distracting to the point where you had no idea where you were now amongst the maze of hallways and doors. Even though the anxiety started to dissipate, the curiosity is what was growing to take its place.

You round one more corner, following the stranger blindly, and are met with a room with a low ceiling, black walls, and the hum of the fluorescent lights above you. Not only that, but there were people here too. Many people. Maybe 10 bodies in this room, make you suddenly aware that the air was thick with sweat and the antiperspirant trying to hide the same smell. Most of the people in front of you had their backs to the door you just entered from, engaged in a conversation they all seemed too excited to be a part of.

“Noah! Care to return the keys you stole?” Miles calls out, and you felt like a little kid hiding behind their mother with the way you stood behind him. With his call out, most of the bodies turned and looked in your direction, to Miles, and all looked shocked at his sudden interjection. Although he used a lighthearted tone, and you didn’t even say anything, it still felt like you were overstepping.

“Key girl!” You hear being called in a familiar voice. “Yes! Let me find them…” the figure continued, coming from the back of the crowd, followed by the sound of rummaging. About a minute ticked by when he started walking through the crowd, a head taller than the others around him. Noah Sebastian, the same vocalist from the band you just saw was right in front of you, a smile sheepishly adorned on his face as he may you at the door frame.

“I swear they were just here” he says guiltily, with eyes darting from yours to then back at the room he was standing in.

The tightening in your chest felt so unnatural, but it was intimidating seeing him this close, in person, and without the veil of a performance in between the two of you. Your eyes are looking into his warm gaze, and although as annoying as it was to lose your items, this was something you never expected it to come to.

He looks away as he pulls out his phone, promptly making a call whilst looking back over his shoulder.

“Hey! Those keys I threw at you during the show, where did they go? I could have sworn I saw them in the green room…” he trails off to the unknown contact, followed by some “Mmhmm”’s. He looks at you again, meeting your eyes, making a guilty expression and biting down on his lip.

“I see, would it be okay if someone brought them back here? They’re ready to be collected” he states, and you may have been mistaken but was that a wink at you?

He ended the conversation, stating “they’re on their way”, and then stood to the side of the door. “Please come sit down, it’s the least I could do” he pleads, motioning with his arm for you to enter the room.

Your throat was tight and you could feel the awkward heat starting to flush your cheeks as you stood there a little embarrassed. How could you say no?

“Thanks for finding them for me anyway” you state, walking past him and trying your best to swallow the ever-growing lump in your throat.

“I mean, I’m sorry that I took them. I just thought it would be a funny bit. And then I completely forgot about it” he said sheepishly. He followed you into the room, taking a drink from the mini fridge and offering you a bottle.

“Drink while you wait?” He asks, as though he is trying his best to be a good host.

You take the bottle in your hand, while pulling over one of the black plastic chairs to sit down on, as other members of the band started to do the same next to you.

“Honestly, I had no idea what he was doing,” Nick Folio called from behind him in between gulps from his water bottle. He then leans forward and holds out a hand to you. “I’m Nick '' he says with a wide grin. You shake his hand and then twist the cap off your own drink as you reply with your name.

“Neither did I” Jolly joined in, “I thought he was just pretending” he joked as he leant up against the table.

“I see what you did there!” Nick Rufilo said, pointing at him and smirking at the joke you were sure they had heard thousands of times before, also sitting down in the social-circle that was starting to form.

You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, and a warmth swelled in your heart as you glanced at Noah, who was sitting opposite you on a lounge against the wall, and who had a smile spread across his face as he watched the banter between his bandmates. It almost felt intrusive that you got to share this moment with them, it seemed intimate in a way that only close friends got to see this side of them. This band was largely a mystery, keeping to themselves and presenting as a theatrical showcase spectacle when on the stage.

“Thanks again for your help” you say sheepishly, in an attempt to continue the conversation. “I think it would still be looking for them if you hadn’t grabbed them. That, or they’d be crushed”.

“Yeah, that crowd looked fun! Was it rough? I kind of miss those days'' Jolly asked, curious to know how the show was from the other side.

“It was crazy, but everyone loved it. Honestly, the show is fantastic. What kind of things go into organizing that kind of performance?” You ask, half being polite, half being nosey.

“It’s a lot of trust in the right people” Noah stated, looking over at some of the crew who had just joined you.

“And having a perfectionist of a vocalist overseeing every detail that goes into the show” Rufilo remarks, teasing his band mate.

“So I want to give people the best show of their lives! Sue me!” Noah flails his arms and slumps back into the lounge.

The conversation continues, branching off into music influences, tales from the road of touring, and embarrassing stories from the group that probably shouldn’t have been told to you.

It had been some time, and the keys were still not located. It was something that still was on your mind, but you weren’t upset at how long this was taking. Your drink was empty, so you absentmindedly played with the bottle in your hands as you listened attentively as Folio shared a fond memory from earlier on in the tour.

Noah noticed your toying of the bottle, and stood up to walk towards you.

“Care for another?” He asked, whilst holding his hand out to take the empty.

“Thank you, but maybe not. Still need to drive, remember?” You answer with a stifled laugh.

“Oh shit, that’s right. The whole reason you’re here. Where did he go…” his whole demeanor changes from a relaxed, cool being, to a more frantic and concerned expression.

He strides over to the table Jolly was now sitting atop, picking up items of clothing and shifting bottles around in an attempt to find your keys.

“Noah!” Someone called, to which he spun around to, flinching at the sudden sight of keys being tossed in his direction. With a quick response, he catches them in one hand, smiling at the effort.

“Keys secured!” He calls, looking in your direction with a gleeful smile. He walks over to you, once again brushing his hair back with his hand, and holds them out to you.

As you look down at them in the palm of his outstretched hand, it’s almost like they taunted you like they did earlier in the night with the way the light bounced off of the metal. You reach out and take them from him, trying to be polite but also suddenly aware of the closeness between you two.

“Did you park far from here?” He asks in a quiet tone, the softest you’ve heard him all night.

“It’s only about a 5 minute walk. Thanks for the hospitality, it’s been nice talking” you reply, looking up at him, very aware of the height advantage he had over you.

“I’ll walk you to your car, can’t have you be murdered after what a great night it’s been” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the sides as he looked over his shoulder. “Be back soon, just making sure key girl doesn’t get murdered!” He calls out to the room, referring to you by your new nickname amongst the group. An earlier conversation had made it stick, after Rufilo mentioned it sounded like it had a James Bond-esque vibe to it.

“Don’t kill her yourself, Noah!” Folio calls back with a humorous tone. “But really, don’t. I can’t be bothered going through getting a new vocalist when you get your ass in jail” he continued, face dead-pan.

“Shut up,” Noah replied, rolling his eyes.

You wave to the room, thank them again, and then turn to walk out, Noah closely following.

“You really don’t need to do this. It’s not far” you argue.

“No, it’s okay. It’s nice to get some fresh air” he mentions as you find one of the doors leading out behind the venue.

There was a small crowd of people loitering off to the side, oblivious to your presence. Noah sees it, and hesitates to walk forward. You catch on to this, then also see the group.

“You can go inside if you don’t want to see them” you offer.

“No, it’s not them, I’ll come out when I get back to talk to that group. It’s just… maybe we go the other way? Otherwise we will be there all night” He asks, tucking his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Of course, it’s not that much longer” you reply, turning and starting to walk with Noah down the street, in the opposite direction.

As he walks, he pulls the hood up on his head, keeping him protected from the cool night. You, on the other hand, notice the goosebumps rising and a shiver starting to happen. Trying your best to mask this, you try to talk as a distraction.

“What’s it like?” You ask suddenly, trying to hide the chatter of your teeth. Noah looks at you, frowning slightly as he doesn’t really know what you’re asking.

“You know, the fame, the touring, the music… all of it. What’s it like?”

“I really can’t complain. I’ve wanted this forever, and we’ve all worked our asses off for this” he smiles as he looks at his feet walking next to you. “That’s not to say it has its hard days though” he continues, this time looking over at you.

You respond with an understanding head nod, despite not even understanding a little bit. “What are those harder days like?”

Noah thinks for a moment, scrunching his nose and bobbing his head side to side as he tries to find the right words, eyes lifting to scan the sky for an answer. “It’s frustrating” he lands on. “It’s like… you know what needs to be done, but there’s some force stopping it from happening.”

“Do you mean when it comes t-to music?” You chatter back.

Noah glances at you again, looking away from the stars, and down to meet your gaze up at him. He saw the way your arms were crossed tightly over your body, and the rigid way you were standing. Without speaking, he stops in his tracks and yanks his hoodie from behind his head. It slips up his back and over his arms, tugging up his black t-shirt underneath just a little, making the coloured tattoos decorating his torso exposed to the night air. You couldn’t help but watch as his long arms tower upwards, graceful even in the most mundane of things.

Whilst you were still a little hypnotized, he yanks the hoodie off his head, and without warning slips it over your head. The warmth was immediate, the residual body heat from Noah made it feel like a blanket of warmth wrapped around you. The sudden change in temperature took you off guard, as well as the encapsulating fabric restricting your arms.

Noah laughed at your reaction, looking down at the black hoodie you now adorned, large red letters of ‘OMENS’ printed on the front, and the sleeves hanging idly at your sides. It was so long on you, like a dress wearing you instead of you wearing it. You couldn’t help but laugh at the size of it.

“Looks good on you.”

“What size even is this? How long are you?” You ask without even thinking, and then laugh again at the sound of your absurd question. Long?

Noah was laughing too, now with his arms open to the air you could really see the details and color in the illustrations that covered them, right up to his neck. His hair was now ruffled, a mess with strands standing every which way, showing the undercut of his hairstyle.

You were a little entranced looking up at him, both of you standing still and stifling your giggles like a couple of school girls.

“You seem different in person,” you blurt out. “I mean, different to when you were on stage” you state, not sure if this was crossing some kind of unknown boundary.

Noah thought for a moment, a smile dwindling but still upturned. “I guess I don’t need to play this… character… when not on stage” he responds, tattooed fingers coming up to imitate air quotes to emphasize his words. He thinks about what he says next. “I just don’t want anyone to be disappointed when they come to see us play” he remarked, now looking down at his feet, hands going into the pockets of his black pants.

“I really don’t think anyone would ever be disappointed” you reply, with an undertone of confidence. Noah sighs and smiles in response.

“I’m serious!” You call, slipping your arms into the oversized sleeves and playfully whacking him with the extra material hanging from you.

Noah turns his body, bracing for the light impact, and laughing at the futile attempt to seem demanding. It helped to lighten the mood a little, as you were worried you’d stepped into a personal space he wouldn’t feel comfortable in.

The two of you look ahead, down the dark street, and then start walking again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry” you state.

“Not prying, don’t apologize.” Noah shook his head and looked down at you again. Every time he did this it made you forget how to breathe. Seeing him this close made you appreciate all the little things you never noticed about him. The marks from piercings from a past life, freckles that dotted the side of his face, even to the uneven stubble that was starting to grow on his jaw. Up close, he was normal, not this enigmatic figure performing. He was himself, vulnerable and insightful.

It made you think about what he was like all the time, if he was serious, if the goofy side ever came out, or if he was quiet and content like now. Maybe a mix of everything? It was astounding to see him so comfortable already with someone he just met, a stranger, and a fan at that.

“Do you often escort your fans back to their cars after shows?” You question, bringing your own thoughts to words.

He laughed breathily before answering. “Not particularly. I’ll usually go out and meet some people after the show once we’ve calmed down. But I can’t say that this is a… common occurrence” he enunciated the last few words in his sentence. It sounded like he was avoiding the lisp that snuck through earlier on in the conversation. “I like to be able to meet people. Thank them. Talk to them like normal humans talk” he explained. “I feel like I can make a real connection with them that way.”

“That makes sense,” you reply.

He continued to tell you stories that involved interacting with fans, and then drifted into interactions with other bands. He told you of his fondest memories while on a festival lineup in the UK. He met an idol of his, and being able to talk to them was something he’ll never forget. The way his eyes lit up when he was talking about this made you smile and it seemed genuine as though he was catching up with an old friend.

“Thanks for being cool with my little prank,” he changed the topic. “Actually, thanks for just being cool in general. It’s been nice to talk to someone new like this. I haven’t done it in a long time. It’s hard to meet new people who have good intentions.”

It took you by surprise how he spoke about you. “I think this is going to be a good story to tell” you reply, also trying to think of a way to say you’re grateful for it because you got to spend this time with him.

You could see your car in the distance, safely parked exactly where you had left it. The walk had taken you longer than expected, but neither of you were rushing to make it end anytime soon. Noah seemed to be the one slowing down the pace, regardless of his lack of warm hoodie.

With the last few steps up to your car door, you come to a halt. “This is me” you point to your car. Nothing too flashy, but not something to brag about.

“Nice wheels” Noah eyes your car. “I like how round all 4 of them are,” he says through a laugh.

You laugh too, looking at the car, and then back to him. “Thank you. This has been really special.”

He goes shy again, looking at his feet while scuffing up some of the grass. “Can I ask a dumb question?”

Your mind jumps to the hoodie you still wore, the smell of him enveloping you as a reminder that it was not yours. “Oh, sorry” you state, hands gripping the hem to lift above your head and give back to him.

“No no no, not that,” he catches the hoodie in your hands, “keep the hoodie, I have so many.” his hands let go after pulling it back down over your head.

“If there's anything I can do in return, please say so Noah” you respond, feeling like you were in his debt. Not only did he give you a great performance, he helped find your keys, gave you his drinks, entertained you with wonderful conversation, walked you to your car, and then even gave you the clothes off his back.

“I really don’t want you to think less of me because of this” he said, a hand rising to rub the back of his neck. He was still avoiding eye contact and looking at the ground. It started to make you think you did something wrong.

“Noah, I’m sorry if I ruined your night” you admit, guilt starting to make your stomach do flips inside you. In a flash his eyes were on you.

“No, you didn’t ruin my night, promise! I… I was just going to ask for your number.”

Number? Phone number? You stood there stunned.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I look like a creep now and I-”

“Of course you can,” you finally answer, understanding why he was so shy and hesitant before. It wasn’t every day that he would ask for this, and it's a big risk coming from him.

He pulls the phone from his back pocket, opening his contacts and then passes it over to you. Your heart was thumping inside your chest like it was trying to break free as you typed in your digits, adding the contact under ‘key girl’. You hand it back to him, looking up at his face. A smile spreads across as he reads the name, letting out a huff of a laugh.

“Will you be back in this part of town any time soon?” you ask, trying your best to hide the bundle of nerves and excitement brewing.

“We’re heading to the next show tomorrow, but coming back this way on our way home.”

“Well, if you need someone to show you around, take you on a personal tour, I know someone with a car with 4 nice round wheels, and a good story about how she lost her keys at a concert once, that could help you.”

“I think I will take you up on that” he replied through a smile. You couldn't help but smile back. The two of you stood there for a moment, relishing in what had just happened.

“I think I should-”

“Yeah, you should go. It’s been a big night” Noah interrupts. You click at the button on your keys, the light flashing behind you in response.

“Thank you Noah, for tonight. And the hoodie, of course.” You step into your car, looking up at him once more.

“It’s been my pleasure, honestly.” He closes the door and watches as you fasten your seatbelt and start to pull away, waving a long arm in the air gently as you do the same back to him.

As you drove, the figure of Noah started to disappear into the veil of darkness that was night. You could barely see him begin to walk back towards the venue and back to his normal nightly routine after a show. Your mind spirals into a replay of the events that have happened tonight, and that led you to driving away from what seemed like a fantasy.

The drive home wasn’t too long, and it seemed to fly by the time you pulled up in your own driveway. Still processing, the key to the door unlocks easily and you walk in, heading straight for bed. Sitting on the edge of the soft blanket-covered mattress, you pull out your phone for the first time tonight, flicking off the ‘do not disturb’ feature, and scrolling through the flood of messages and missed call alerts from your friends. You laugh at some of the remarks made in the group chat, knowing full well they had no clue what had occurred. Some joked about running away and joining the band, others were betting that your phone was lost.

After a quick message to them all letting them know you are alive, a contentedness starts to fall over you. Did all of that really just happen, or are you just taking part of some kind of dream? As you ask yourself this, a light buzz comes from your phone, alerting you of a new message. It came from a number not saved previously.

Hope you got home okay. Thanks for giving me a story to tell too. Will definitely hit you up for that personal driving tour - Noah

You stare at your screen, looking at the words he chose to use. You tried not to read too much into it, but there was a spark that threatened to roar into a fire inside of you that made you believe he could actually want to see you again. Before getting too ahead of yourself, you type out your reply.

Home safe and ready for bed. Thanks for being my key savior. You hit send, but quickly see a response.

Happy to offer my assistance. Next time I promise not to steal any of your belongings.

Next time? You sure hope to god there is indeed a next time.

Part 2

[jellybeanium124]

pathetic vent post lol

so the thursday before last, one of my coworkers told me she's quitting bc she got a job in the field she wants to have a career in. I was happy for her and told her so, but I also felt kind of sad, because she's a woman close in age to me and I've been thinking we could be friends if I wasn't technically her boss for a little while now. so finally near the end of our shifts (we were closing) I buck up and ask if her she'd want to exchange contact info and stay in touch and hang out after she left.

and y'all she looked so happy and excited to be asked that. absolutely 0 hints that her delighted response wasn't genuine. so she puts her number in my phone, and even takes a silly picture for the contact pic, and I send a test text and she responds to confirm it's her correct number.

on monday I text her about hanging out later in the week, with ideas. on tuesday I text her again, with new ideas if she didn't like my first ones. I didn't mean to double text two days in a row.

nothing.

I wait till yesterday and send her one last text, explaining that I really do wanna be friends, I am more chill outside of work and she's only seen Work Nina if that's what she's worried about, but that I don't wanna bother her.

it's been over 24 hours now, and nothing. part of me wonders if she changed her mind and blocked my number.

it's just really disheartening because I've had another person string me along and then not respond/continually cancel on me pretty recently. after my college friend group broke up thanks to the serial sexual predator (which is a whole nother story, dw he didn't do anything to me, in fact he refused to talk to me the first time we met when I introduced myself and tried to make polite small talk, and I realized several months later that he didn't engage with me at all because he didn't wanna fuck me 🙃) things have been kind of dire in the irl friends department and it's sad and pathetic and I thought finally here was a girl I really connected with, and she liked gossiping with me at work, and she seemed really really excited at the possibility of being real friends with me, and then nope... not a single response to any of my texts. zip nada zilch.

it's just hard... I was basically socially rejected by everyone in my film program at my uni, then I finally started to make friends at the jewish club and a serial predator with an apartment full of guns who sells stolen lego sets on ebay and does cocaine ruins that, and then I'm at work and now that I'm a manager I'm the boss of most people there and I wouldn't be close friends with most of them anyways and the one girl who I think I could be really close friends with fucking ghosts me after I was brave enough to ask if she'd wanna be friends. it's been like five straight years of rejection for me. I always had friends in k-12, I wasn't a "popular kid" but I was well liked among the venn diagram of gays, nerds, theater kids, and band kids and I had a lot of friends in high school. I don't fucking know what happened. and now I'm on meds that are finally giving me energy and happy chemicals so I wanna go out, I wanna do stuff, I wanna walk around, and I don't wanna be an apartment slug anymore but I don't have anyone to do anything with and there's only so much fun you can have by yourself. and I'm still too shy to go to a bar alone because I know I'll stand in the corner paralyzed by social anxiety. I'm trying bumble bff rn but I'm so shit at responding to people and I kinda hate myself for it and I'm trying to do better but I keep not responding to people for too long and yeah maybe my ex-coworker is stuck in that cycle too idk.

oh yeah and the whole past year of antisemitism makes everything worse because I'm deeply realistically afraid that any goyim I meet are going to be hateful hamasniks <3 so that's a fun lil bonus.

jesus man... idfk. it's just shitty. it's just fucking shitty.

[tackytigerfic]

Hello! Thank you for all your amazing work on all your fics. This is going to sound very random, so please bear with me. In the Brandon Sanderson books, there is a phrase called the sanderlanche to describe the last bit of each book. If you're not familiar, it is when there is so much action and crazy things happening, it just sort of a roller-coaster.

This is the EXACT feeling I got with the incredible First Watch of Night. Without spoilers for those who haven't read it, when writing action, how do you learn to pace and how do you plan out all of those action scenes?

Thank you and I hope you know what a masterpiece that work is!

Hi Anon! I'm so sorry this is late - it's been one of those months, and I've not been able to get online much.

Also I admit I have been hoarding this ask - it's my greatest joy to be getting nice feedback on First Watch, so this has made me so happy.

V interested in the concept of the sanderlanche! Sorry to say I haven't actually read any Brandon Sanderson but I know exactly what you mean by that almost relentless and inexorable picking up of the pace towards the end, and I love it.

This is exactly what I did in First Watch - it was a deliberate choice and I personally am very happy with it now that I'm looking back over the fic as a finished whole. I must admit I was a bit worried about the pacing coming across as uneven (and you know, for some readers maybe it does) but I had to go with what I wanted it to feel like. Which was, in short, to start by easing the reader into the world of the Voldemort Wins AU, and (without infodumping, which was SO hard in such a big world with so much AU information to pass along) give a real living sense of the way they live, the characters and their dynamics, the overarching mood of the whole piece... I wanted people to get a sense of the stasis and mundanity of constant war, of the oppressive and claustrophic setting, of the way in which every single relationship was shaped by what they had been going through for so long.

But more than that, I also had to show the positives! The parental relationship Harry has with Remus and Sirius, Ron and Hermione's lovely marriage and their children (and Harry being part of their family too), the self-discipline, the teamwork, the expansiveness of their vision for their territory...

So there was a lot to bring to the reader, and I wanted to do that justice. That needed a bit of space - I think probably the first four or five chapters focus on that, as well as Draco's return.

But of course I already knew what would happen with the plot, who else would need to be introduced as a result of the multiverse thing (hiii Potter and Malfoy), how the Drarry relationship would need to go, and crucially, how the fic would end (or rather, how the main plotline would end - I didn't write the very last chapter until everything else was done and had a round of edits too, as I wanted it to be just right). So all along I wanted to show the sense of impetus that Draco brought with him on his return to the UK - and how Harry needed that injection of energy to get him moving, how he needed to find his sense of purpose again.

So it was a very deliberate move to start slowly then, as the fic went on, to move the action on at a much faster pace. It was meant to feel relentless, unstoppable - almost like it felt for the characters, where they had been stuck in limbo for so long and were now going through these profound changes and having to make these big plans and take huge leaps of faith.

I also made sure to carve out little pockets of peace among the madness, just so as not to overwhelm with action. Quite a few comments mentioned how much they liked the cinema scene, and I think it's because it comes so soon after a big moment of dramatic tension, and then it allows the reader as well as Harry to have a little emotional break. Also I think the occasional outsider POVs help with that (like seeing the raid on the Manor through Hermione's eyes, or having the Wolfstar sex scene where they discuss Teddy) - my hope was that they lift the intensity of the close Harry POV, and give us a little more insight into his wider world.

Even in the big climactic scene I wanted to give a bit of pause (I won't say much for fear of spoilers, but I'll just call it the Hogwarts bit). I really wanted that bit to feel very peaceful and a bit uncanny, and again to let us really feel what Harry's going through and maybe make us think about him as opposed to the action going on around him. But yes, in general I really did want us to go hurtling through the action after a certain point - there was a frenetic quality to the pacing that I wanted to have a certain breathless abandon! But without (I hope, anyway) sacrificing clarity or emotional weight.

The final chapter was my way of wrapping things up, and again a return to that more world-buildingy, communal feel, getting in more of the interpersonal relationships (very interpersonal in some cases, iykwim), and ending with the most important point of the whole fic - the Drarry relationship.

As to how i planned it? I didn't really - I write very much on instinct, so I was just going on my experience as a reader (I love crime fiction for instance, and the best of those rely so much on pacing), and teasing out what I really wanted to include. I wrote the scenes I knew HAD to go in, then i read them all over and worked out what needed to be expanded or connected, and then wrote those in. In fact, I added quite a few scenes very near the end of the writing process, because it became obvious that some things needed fleshing out. And I cut and rewrote a lot of other scenes, so as to give more weight to things that needed focus, and to get rid of things that weren't needed. My betas were invaluable for this stage, as you can imagine.

One book that really influenced my pacing in this was The Sparsholt Affair by Alan Hollinghurst. I loved how joyful and expansive that book felt, how not a single fuck was given about choosing to write acres on one part and then keeping another part really tight. There's a car journey in that book that feels almost as though it happens in real time, and I admired that so much and read it so often to remind myself of how important it is to put the emphasis on the stuff that you find interesting.

Sorry if this hasn't been very helpful, but it was really nice to get to revisit this fic again, so thank you, Anon. I'm so, so happy you liked it.

First Watch

[melanated-writersblock]

OMGP Prologue

For those of you that actually appreciate some sort of plot😩🍸

For as long as you’ve known him, Toji Fushiguro has never been one to back down from a challenge. He’s always going out of his way to prove you wrong and it only got more frequent after you two got together. So when you made a passing joke about how Toji wouldn’t be able to survive the infamous No Nut November, he took that shit to heart.

And the challenge was set.

But it’s not like he was just doing it for the sake of novelty, there was a reward. You and Toji made a pact that if he completed No Nut November SUCCESSFULLY, then when the clock stuck 12 midnight on December 1st, he could have you. Whenever he wanted. However he wanted. You offered up more days, in case he’d need breaks. But he insisted, saying he only needed one. And when you two shook on it, Toji smiled, because he knew he’d win.

The month was long, and obviously it was a pain not being able to touch him and him touch you. The sexual tension that radiated off of the both of you when lounging in opposite sides of your apartment felt stronger than any cursed energy a sorcerer could possibly harness. It was almost concerning. Finally, November 30th came.

2:30 PM.

There was a certain…peace…that fell over the apartment, all day. You knew Toji was around, because you could hear his footsteps and movements when he went to do stuff….but it seemed like he was purposely avoiding you. Matter of fact, you KNEW he was avoiding you!

7:45 PM.

You were in the kitchen making dinner and needed something from an overhead cabinet above the stove, and SOMEONE decided to conveniently place it further back than you could manage. Toji watched you from the living room couch as you bent over the stove slightly, reaching as far back into the cabinet as you could for garlic salt that genuinely shouldn’t have been there. He studied the way the hem of your shorts rode up your ass cheeks and got caught between your thighs. He wanted to be between them so badly. He NEEDED to. He wanted to see you struggle for a bit, before he could put you out of your misery. At least in the only way that was allowed, for now. “Stop, before you hurt yourself. I got it.” You hadn’t even processed that Toji was already behind you when he leaned over you to grab the seasoning salt. Oh god he was so close. He smelled good, he FELT good, big and firm, like he’d gotten impossibly stronger or something. It made you wonder how many poor sorcerers had to suffer because of this silly little bet. His abs pressed against the folds of your clothed back, and maybe you were just that feral, but you swore on your soul you could feel his hardness right against your ass. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes…unless you were ready to throw your 30 day streak down the fucking drain. He knew what he was doing to you, and he enjoyed that it was working. Toji handed the spice to you, smiling to himself before walking off. You finally stopped holding your breath, and went back to cooking.

9:26PM.

Time was tormenting you both. You took your 2nd cold shower of the day and it didn’t help a damn thing. Toji flipped through channels to try to distract himself from even looking in the direction of the bathroom in your shared bedroom.

10:32 PM.

Toji poured a glass of water in the kitchen, and you watched from behind your phone screen on the couch as he drank, and droplets of water trickled down his chin…down his neck…down to his fitted SavagexFenty shirt that you actually regret buying for him right about now. This man had the actual BALLS to LOOK AT YOU while this was happening. Your eyes stayed locked on each other while he came back to sit on the other couch across the room. He was almost at the finish line.

11: 45 PM.

You laid in bed, dozing off. You decided to turn in after you felt like the tension between you and Toji started to die down. In and out of sleep, your eyes lazily swayed between the clock on your nightstand and the cracked bedroom door where faint light from the living room TV reflected on it. Everything was so peaceful that you hadn’t even noticed your clock inching towards 11:58 PM. You close your eyes for a mere few seconds, opening them to see Toji removing his shirt as he walks through the bedroom door tossing it off to the side as he walks towards you, undoing his sweatpants with a devilish smile.

It’s officially midnight. December 1st is here. And you’re in for a long day.

December 1st

[q1mblrrd]

In The Eyes of God

Castiel x Dean (Destiel) 💙💚

Word Count: 2,643

Cas and Dean are forbidden lovers, prince x peasant. PART SIX

Part Five:

Warnings: mentions of blood, demonic possessions, imprisonment, implied execution, homophobia

Dean stuffed stolen goods into a bag, mentally tallying up what he had and what he still needed. He could probably make a quick run into Narran to gather whatever he’d forgotten. Since he’d promised to run away with Castiel he hadn’t slept, he couldn’t, not with all the dizzying information running through his mind at any given moment. He’d planned as much as he could, but now all he could do was pray that everything would work out in his favor. Dean wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.

Castiel was in a similar position, stuck pacing in his room, packing a secrecy bag aside from the one he packed to convince his parents he was planning to leave in a week as they’d told him he would. They didn’t know that he planned on leaving much sooner, and he planned on keeping it that way. He was nervous, but beyond that he was excited. There was a feeling in his chest he couldn’t recall ever having before, one that made him feel lightheaded and made it hard to breathe. He wanted to bust through the doors already, he wanted to run as far and as fast as he could, he wanted to do something to expel the energy that only seemed to be growing in his very bones. For the first time in his life, he had real hope. Something that had started as a small spark had lit something much greater, something that set his soul burning so hot he wasn’t sure if he could contain it. Anger surged that fire, focus channeled it, and love pushed him forward. They were going to get out. He was sure of it.

That evening Castiel waited at his window, watching the sun slip slowly past the horizon, observing as the moon and stars grew brighter, gazing out into the universe. All those galaxies and planets out there, and everything that had ever happened, was leading up to this moment. This night. Castiel felt held, he felt safe, he knew that God was out there, and he had a plan. He trusted God. His God would love him no matter what happened, no matter who he was. He had faith.

Dean felt similarly, as shocking as that was to himself. He found himself on his knees in the barn, giving a final prayer before he set off. Dean had given up on God months ago, straying further and further from the supposed man in the sky until all he felt was a strange mix of longing and satisfaction. He longed to have that kind of connection again, but being free from it had saved him. He wasn’t ashamed anymore. He didn’t plead with God at night to tell him what was wrong with him anymore. In a way, Castiel had become his God. If Dean didn’t know any better, he would’ve preached to the world that Castiel was an angel sent straight from heaven. 

The plan was simple enough, at eight in the evening the guards in the far eastern corner of the wall switched shifts, and there was a few minutes of space where the wall and doors were unguarded. During that small amount of time, Dean and Castiel would meet halfway, in the portion of the gardens where the trees shielded them from view, and sneak through the gate. After they managed to leave the castle walls unnoticed, they’d hurry into Narran and board the next vessel leaving from the docks, slipping out before anyone even noticed they were gone. It didn’t matter where they went, as long as they were together. Dean had enough money to give them a few days of travel and food, and depending on where they ended up he was sure he could find a way to get some income. After a while, they would stop searching for Castiel, but he would need to be hidden from public view for quite some time, Dean was sure of that. The only problem would be his eyes, those pretty blue ones Dean loved so much, they were only found in royal bloodlines. Selective breeding within the children of kingdoms and countries for many generations ensured the trait was kept sacred. It was a sign of status, and it wasn’t easily hidden. Keeping Castiel safe was an issue they’d face, but Dean hadn’t thought too much about that just yet. 

The task at hand was to get out. Now. 

Twenty minutes past sunset Castiel pulled on his cloak, flipped up the hood, and glanced in the mirror to make sure he looked covered enough. His backpack made a bit of a strange lump on his back, but he figured it might help him blend into the crowd down at the docks. It was dark outside by now, and the dark blue fabric of his cloak would help him melt in seamlessly. If all went well, he’d be waking up tomorrow morning a free man. The thought made his chest flutter. Castiel was going to be free. 

He climbed down the wall from his window, struggling to keep a steady grip on the thin ledge, nearly slipping a few times, but eventually making it down safely. It was hard to be quiet, his boots crunching on the gravel no matter how lightly he stepped. Nobody had noticed him so far, and he intended to keep it that way. It had dropped significantly in temperature tonight, enough that he could see his breath puff up around him. It had been a year since the two met in the forest, nearly down to the day. Castiel only remembered dreaming of the day he might get something like this, yet here it was and all he could do was try not to shake. 

Castiel pushed aside a branch and stepped into the clearing where they’d agreed to meet. Dean wasn’t there yet. Castiel felt a bit of anxiety pool in his stomach. Has something gone wrong? Was Dean already caught? Was it all useless?

”Cas.” 

Dean moved to Castiel’s side, setting a hand on his arm and watching as Castiel relaxed.

”I was worried for a second.”

Dean shook his head, also shivering gently in the freezing breeze.

”Everything’s fine. Come along, we haven’t got much time.”

Castiel didn’t argue when Dean tugged on his sleeve, pulling him along. They fell into step beside each other, their soft breathing synchronized as their hands came together and held on as if they’d be ripped apart at any second. It wasn’t a long walk to the eastern border, but Dean would rather be a bit early than be late and have to rush. He wanted this to work out—no—he needed this to work out. 

The two crouched down behind some bushes, watching the guards mill about atop the wall and on either side of the gate. Dean was counting in his mind, every second, just waiting for them to switch. They had maybe three minutes to run down to the gate, get outside, and get as far away as they could, as fast as they could. Castiel had been into the forest before, so Dean wasn’t too worried. 

“Dean,” Castiel whispered to the other, bringing up a hand to turn his face. Dean was still nervous, and trying to focus, but when Castiel kissed him it started flowing away. The tension in his body lessened, his mind cleared, and he felt more stable. After Castiel pulled away he let out a small breath, opening his eyes and giving the other a nod.

”We’ll be alright.”

With that, Dean grasped Castiel’s hand and led them away from the bushes, hurrying silently down to the gate. For the next three minutes, nobody but them would be here. Dean set to work opening the lock on the gate with the stolen key he took from his pocket while Castiel glanced around, keeping watch, just in case. Nervous seconds passed before the lock clicked open and Dean tossed it aside, pushing open the large wooden door and wincing when it creaked. He ushered Castiel through, pushing on the door with all his strength to shut it again. 

“Let’s go, before anyone—“ Castiel started in a whisper, taking Dean’s arm as the other walked up to him.

”You there!” 

A deep voice shouted from the top of the wall, the moonlight catching the metal armor on the King’s guard. Castiel felt his stomach drop, looking up at the guard only for a second before Dean shouted something and he was being pulled along. He stumbled for a moment, regaining his balance and running as fast as his legs could go. He could hear more yelling and the gate opening behind him, but those sounds slowly faded. 

Dean was breathing heavily now, one hand gripped so tightly on Castiel’s arm it might’ve bruised. He glanced over his shoulder often, forcing his legs to carry him just a little bit faster every time he caught a glimpse of that bright metal. They might make it, but they have to get off this trail. 

“Hurry, go!”

Dean said as loudly as he dared, guiding Castiel off the worn trail and through the brush of the forest now. It was dark and either of them could barely see, thorns and branches whipping at their face and arms and making it difficult to continue. 

Almost before he could even process there was a root above ground, Castiel’s ankle caught on the exposed wood. He tripped, falling before Dean could catch him, and hitting the ground hard enough to knock all the wind out of him. At the moment Castiel didn’t feel it, but both he and Dean had heard the sickening crack of a bone snapping in half. 

Stars and tears exploded in Castiel’s vision, a sharp cry of pain forcing itself from his throat despite how desperately he tried to keep quiet. His arm felt like it was on fire, and he couldn’t even move his ankle. 

“Fuck, you’re alright.” Dean dropped down to his knees, helping Castiel rollover. Castiel was hyperventilating, tears streaming down his face, jaw clenched tightly, and whimpers taking the place of pained screaming. Dean almost didn’t want to look, but when he glanced down at Castiel’s left arm, he knew this was bad. His arm was bent, maybe 45 degrees, and in the dark, he couldn't tell if it was bruising already but he knew this was serious.

“Shh, it’s alright, it’ll be alright.” Dean brought a hand to Castiel’s face, cupping his cheek and trying to get him to quiet down. Castiel couldn’t stop sobbing. This was worse than anything he’d ever experienced, a kind of pain that radiated through his entire arm and made everything feel sharp and numb at the same time. 

“We have to keep going,” Dean says in a hushed but hurried tone, scooping an arm under Castiel’s back when he begins to hear voices approaching. 

“No, Dean, you can’t.” Castiel hiccuped, struggling to get the words out through his dizzy head. “Just go, just run. They won’t hurt me, you have to go.”

”I’m not leaving you.”

Dean’s voice was filled with the kind of finality that Castiel just couldn’t argue with, the kind that made him turn his face into Dean’s shoulder and bite down to keep from crying out any louder than he already was. The bone hadn’t broken skin, so Dean knew Castiel would be okay for a little bit longer at least. 

“There!”

The guards had caught up already. Dean could see the light from their lanterns peeking through the treeline, but he didn’t stick around much longer. He took off as fast as he could, slower since he was now carrying Castiel in his arms. His legs burned, his arms burned, his whole body felt like it might give out at any second, but he kept running. At some point Castiel had passed out, becoming dead weight, but the only thing Dean could think about was getting out. They had to get out. They had to board that ferry, to go and build a house somewhere quiet where they’d be left alone. They had to be able to share dinner and fall asleep in each other’s arms. He had to be able to feel Castiel’s warm skin against his, feel his breath pick up, and see every little change in his expression. 

All that and more was what pushed Dean forward, but the forest only grew darker, and when he finally burst through the treeline he was met with an entire troupe of guards. Dean panted heavily for air, staggering back a step, on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.

”You’re surrounded.”

The front guard with the shiny gold shoulder panel stated, stepping forward to signal his authority. 

“Unhand the Prince, now.”

Dean watched the man’s eyes, reading his expression, looking around at the others there, and thinking about his choices. What would happen to Castiel? If they knew that Castiel had run away, with another man no less, what might they do to him? Dean could handle whatever punishment came with this, but his Cas couldn’t, and he knew that. 

“Unhand him, now! I won’t say it again!”

The guard screamed at him this time, the men behind him taking a step forward and each placing a hand on the sheaths at their hips. The noise woke Castiel, who was bleary-eyed and still riddled with pain. He didn’t fully understand the situation at first, moaning softly when his arm shifted and sent sparks of pain up his body again. All the guards were on edge now, wondering what Dean did to their Prince. 

Carefully, Dean set Castiel down, laying him gently on the ground and pressing a kiss to his forehead before pushing himself up and stepping over Castiel’s body, standing in front of him. 

“The Devil sent me here to steal him.” 

Looks of terror and anger flickered through the troupe, all hooked on listening to what Dean said, now worried that he might hurt Castiel further.

“Do you hear me? I did it! It’s all my fault. I’m a witch! I cast a spell on him, one that makes him sin. Cas— Your Prince, he’s the Devil’s now!”

Dean was shouting, raising his arms, and trying to seem as deranged as possible. This meant his death, but he could spare Castiel. As long as they believed Dean had forced Castiel, nobody would think to accuse him of something. Eventually, Dean just started yelling gibberish, random words he thought sounded demonic enough, dancing around Castiel’s limp body. When the guards rushed over to grab him and make him stop whatever ‘ritual’ he’d started, he began to thrash around, hoping to scare them. He saw a cross, cool metal pressing against his skin. He pretended it burned. 

After he continued to fight their grip, the handle of a sword was cracked across his temple, knocking him out cold. Dean fell limp in the hands of several guards, the others already tending to Castiel and helping to carry him back to the castle. 

Dean’s memory is fuzzy. Warm blood dripping from his temple to his cheek helped him to slip in between states of consciousness. Cold shackles clipped around his wrists, cutting uncomfortably into his skin as he was dragged along. Only Princes were given the luxury of being carried, after all.

At some point, Dean ended up tossed into a place that was damp, cold stone meeting his face and sending pain blooming on his cheekbone. He didn’t have the strength to push himself up, not that he could anyway, with his hands shackled together behind him and then chained to the wall. He couldn’t do much of anything but lie there in pain, too sick to worry about his future. He hoped Castiel was alright. 

[fili-urzudel]

If you don't mind #9 and #7 with Thorin and Dwalin.

7. Sleeping in a dog pile

9. Forehead touches

I was quite honestly immediately inspired by this one, it was just bridging the gaps between every flash of inspiration I had lol. It felt nice to write something platonic, and I hope that this was close to what you had in mind, or if it wasn't, it's still something you enjoy. <3

Word count: 1.1 k

Warnings: Might getcha in your feels idk, old man dwarf Balin POV

Pebbles - Platonic Balin, Thorin, and Dwalin

Dwalin could hardly keep still, hands fidgeting with the head of the wooden axe Adad had gifted him some months ago. "Will you let us stay up as late as we want?"

"No," Balin answered sternly, still feeling a bit strange, entrusted with all this authority. "You will go to sleep when Amad and Her Highness said you need to go to sleep. And you'll eat your dinner."

"I thought brothers were supposed to be fun."

"I thought sons of the advisor to the king were supposed to be well behaved," Balin said, before ruffling his brother's dark hair. He hadn't quite gotten the hang of braiding it yet, so he decided to leave it all out, and it stuck out quite impressively from his head. "And you can have fun, just be mindful. It's not your house. And be gentle with Dis, she's just a little'un."

"Aye, aye," he waved him off.

The older dwarf hoisted his school bag over his shoulder again before knocking on the door to the common quarters of the royal family. "Come in!" The princess's voice rang through, and Balin took a deep breath as he pulled the door open. 

"Dwalin!" Thorin jumped up from whatever it was he was doing at the table to all but tackle his little brother, initiating their special handshake that always ended in a headbutt. 

He had taught them it. 

"And what am I? Chopped liver?" As he spoke, Frerin and Dis came running up, sticking to either side of him and forcing him to drop his bag of schoolbooks on the floor. "Ah, at least someone cares," he joked, a hand on each of their backs.

"Thank you for showing up early, we're about ready to leave," the princess told him with a genuine smile. She was always so warm. "I know you'll all have so much fun!"

"Not too much," Prince Thrain reminded them.

"Of course not, sir."

"I know you're a good lad, Balin," Thrain reassured him. "I'm sure we'll return to clean plates, clean rugs, clean clothes, and no damaged art, right?" He asked, pointedly turning to his eldest son and his best friend, who seemed to be tuning him out.

"Yes, da."

"Yes, sir!" They said at the same time.

After a round of goodbye and another set of reminders for Thorin and Dwalin, the pair were off, and Balin could get started on his homework. Right?

"Dis, you've got to finish your vegetables," Balin encouraged her, though he knew the words would have irked him when he was her age. 

"But I don't like green food," she pouted, blue eyes welling with on-demand tears. 

"Thattagirl," Dwalin praised, and Balin shot him a look that had him shrinking in his seat. 

"They're good, I prom—Frerin, that had better not be drawing clay," he warned as he saw the pebble nearing the wall with a suspiciously clenched fist. "I may not be your ma but I won't let you color the walls either."

After redirecting Frerin's creative energy to parchment, Balin cleaned up after dinner. 

It wasn't much easier after.

"Boys, no wrestling on the furniture," he said exasperatedly, still trying in vain to do his schoolwork at the dinner table. He moved his papers and books haphazardly in his arms to the table in the sitting room, hoping to dissuade them from trying again. 

They continued amusing themselves with tasks of varying volume, and Balin was almost done with his essay on the First Age when it went quiet. Too quiet.

"Boys?"

"Quick, pick it up!"

"Why weren't you watching her?"

"She's your sister!"

"She's your sister too!"

"You're older!"

By that point, Balin had made it to the room at the end of the hall—the master bedroom. Someplace none of them should be.

The scene was simple enough to decipher. A vase of some sort lay on the ground, formerly perched on a table that Dis must've walked into and knocked over. Surprisingly, the noise was not enough to make her cry, but enough to make the other pebbles start panicking.

It wasn't a big deal. Honestly, if it was anyone's fault, it was Balin's, something he would readily admit to when the prince and princess returned.

But the pebbles thought they were in big trouble, with enough anxious energy to keep them up all night. 

"Why, you little goats!" He roared, and the pebbles perked up almost instantly. "You'd better run!"

Dis shrieked and toddled away, the others in hot pursuit. Balin chased them around tables and the kitchen island, catching them and earning more screams every time they hid behind a bed or chair.

He let them get ahead of him just enough to confer among themselves, and when he caught up, they attacked. 

"Get him!" Dis cried in her small voice, and Balin couldn't hide his smile.

Frerin and Thorin each took an arm, and Dwalin bowled them back onto the couch. "My own brother, betraying me!" he shouted, closing his eyes in defeat.

The couch was wide, wide enough for the five of them to spread out as they wished. Dwalin lay on his chest, his untamed hair tickling Balin's chin.

Thorin laid his head on his stomach, his baby sister in his arms and his little brother laid out on his legs.

And finally, they could rest, Balin thought as not-so-quiet snores filled the room.

"Balin?" A small voice asked, and it took a moment for him to realize it was Dwalin's. It had been a while since he sounded so... little. 

"Yeah, nadad?"

"I'm sorry for not being better tonight."

"You were just having fun," he assured him. "It's alright."

"Are you sure?"

Balin touched his forehead to his brother's briefly, patting his back. "Yeah. Go to sleep, nadad."

His brother snuggled back up to his side.

He would clean up the vase later. He would tell the prince and princess when they got home and apologize profusely for not watching them more closely.

But right now, it was nice being right where he was.

My, where did time go?

It had been a long time since then, Balin reminisced. A lot had changed. They were charging to recover the mountain he had lived most of his life in. He had a couple hundred more grey hairs, and all the pebbles had full beards now. The ones that were still alive, at least. Dis had pebbles of her own, and they were on the quest. 

He wasn't sure, but he did know one thing. It was an absolute fact, actually, as Thorin and Dwalin lay snoring on each arm.

Some things didn't change much at all.

[persimmonsimmer]

Confession: I’ve had two households’ worth of Panorama posts sitting in my drafts, mostly written, for a few months now.

I’ve hesitated to post them purely out of insecurity. I was rusty when I actually played both households and took these screenshots somewhere around 8-9 months ago, and I was rusty when I finally got around to writing up the posts several months after that. There are a lot of story beats that I wish I’d set up better (or at least not forgotten about altogether), but at the same time, I don’t have the energy or will to reset and replay each of these households in order to do things “right,” so I’m stuck with what I have.

What a negative note to start on, lol! But I felt the need to put out some kind of disclaimer because, although I’m playing and posting about Panorama for my own enjoyment, I do worry about disappointing the few loyal readers I’ve amassed, whose comments always mean so much to me. ❤️

So that’s the disclaimer! It’s going to be a rough return, but Panorama is coming back. And I am truly glad to be back to telling this story after so long.

As I wrote above, I have two households’ worth of posts queued up. After that, who knows? I probably won’t be able to stick to a consistent schedule, but I’m hoping that forcing myself to post these will help get me back into the playing and writing groove.

To all who’ve followed me since I started posting Barge Harbor builds (👋), never fear: I plan to continue sharing new builds as I complete them. If you have no interest in story-heavy BACCs, feel free to block the tag “panorama bacc.”

The next posts pick up in media res, so if you’d like a refresher on recent events, I recommend scrolling through the panorama round 5 tag.