#i hoped we would get more of the red sweater dancing scenes

[weishenkun]

go higher : kun

[grapejuicestyless]

i have been loving the song big black car by Gregory Alan Isakov lately and was wondering if you could write something based on it? maybe Conrad … maybe harry? this song reminds me of autumn and blurry scenes out of train windows and i would love to see what you could do with it xxx fluff or angst, whatever best suits your mood at the time ⭐️🧚🏻🫂 sending you loooots of love! thank you!!!! <3

Big Black Car

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summery: “Heartbreak, you know, drives a big black car.” She laughed, pointing at the empty streets. Stepping in the puddles, I watch our reflection bend. She sticks out her tongue, but I can only frown. I understand now that no matter how this ends she will forever haunt me. I’ll see her smile in the rain and hear her voice in the breeze. She was a phonograph, I was a kid. She was everything, and yet nothing.

ANGST

(I might write an alternate version thats fluffy lmk if thats something you would want <3)

I rode in red train cars with the patterned seats from the nineties. I read the novels my friends recommend me and I bit at my nails until they bleed. I leave red stains from my lipstick on my skin when I pull away, and I admire the leaves that stick to the cement.

I don’t mind the chill or the way my nose burns in the late November air. It reminds me of the holidays, big sweaters and sweet n’ low sugar in dirty coffee cups. I don’t complain about the dirt on my shoes or the wetness on the bottom of my jeans. I don’t care about how wild my hair is or how my smile is crooked and my freckles are scattered.

The world is spinning, round and round like a carousel. What would I be if I were to stop and complain. To sit still on a world made for dancing, a world that gifts us the chance to take it all in just once.

So I don’t mind that I had to ride hours in a train to get to Boston. And I don’t care how he doesn’t wait for me on the platform like I would’ve. After all we are only gifted our place on this earth once. I’ve learned to hold no grudges, have no anger. I remember that I am not the only one living this life for the first time.

The red of their front door is the same red of my nails. The same red of my lips, the same flush of my nose and the red of my scarf. The color maroon reminds me of the fall, of the traditions and the cinnamon. Chai and tights and boots and fairy lights.

When the door opens, it’s Susannah who opens it. Her blonde hair is shorter and she has more wrinkles. The same smile lines she used to pull back and the creases between her eyebrows she used to complain about. There was nothing to complain about. Why would anyone ever be ashamed of the tattoos of their happiness. How beautifully they age. So I tell her she looks beautiful every chance I get. And I don’t say it just because I want to make her feel good, but because I mean it, and I hope she can see it too.

“Y/n, come in, come in!” She ushers me inside of the house, and her hands rub along my arms like I’d been waiting for hours in the baron winter. Then again, she’s more ill than I would ever be. She believes it’s colder than it truly is.

Unwrapping my scarf, I hang it on the banister. I leave my shoes by the door on the mat right below where my jacket hangs off the hook.

“Wheres Conrad?” I cant help but ask, running my fingers through each other repeatedly. The cold nipped at my fingertips and the wind blew harshly into my face, but it was autumn finally and I was in Boston. So who could complain?

“He’ll be down soon. Just finishing up some cleaning. You know how messy he is.” She smiles as she leaves, tending to the kitchen, making mashed potatoes and some main dish that smells like spices and butter.

The door at the end of the hall at the top of the stairs creaks, and heavy footsteps follow. There he is, I can breathe. I can breathe and I do, because the air is so much fresher when it’s the same air I get to share with my Conrad.

His hair is darker blonde than it was in the summer, and his sweater clings to his body perfectly. He looks so soft and cozy. It’s the same shade of maroon as my scarf and my nails and my nose and my lips. He’s smiling, faintly but I can see it. Right underneath the dark circles of his eyes, under his button nose. He’s just as charming as I remember.

“Con.” She breathed. She breathed like it was her first deep breath in a long time.

She looked so beautiful. Someone straight from a magazine. I swore even the lights above her head bent so they could shine down just on her. Full of so much life, so much love. I couldn’t help but feel dull being so close to her. A Plain Jane standing next to the most gorgeous woman. A miracle beside I, someone who was simply holding his space.

Each step seemed to draw out longer, my resistance to give into the warmth she radiated. The kindness that seeped out of her. She was understanding, smart. That empathy of hers really was a gift. A gift I wish I had, because then maybe I wouldn’t be thinking the things I was right now. Maybe then I could be happy with what I had.

When my mom called for us a few moments later, I silently thanked god for sparing me from my thoughts. The thoughts of her red lips, red nails, red scarf and how we looked like we matched. How I wanted to rip the cotton from my skin to differentiate us. To separate us physically.

I picked at my food with my fork that night at dinner. Pushing around the turkey and chewing at my cheek. Like she knew something was wrong she grabbed my hand, holding it under her own. She didn’t force me to curl my fingers into hers, which I appreciated. She knew, of course she did. How something was wrong. It wasn’t like me to be so distant, so closed off. No, not to the girl who had run around the beaches with me in late July, flying kites and kicking over each other’s sandcastles in fake fury.

She pressed a kiss to my hand then, and I saw the slight stain of red on my skin. She laughs about it, but doesn’t rub it away. But the red burns my skin and the reminder of her being so close hurts my heart. I rub it away quickly, smiling softly to her and letting her hand go. She doesn’t really mind it, and if she did she doesn’t have time to frown about it. Jeremiah is already asking about her college friends and if any of them are single. It makes her laugh, but he was being serious. Which is probably why it was so funny to her.

I can tell by the way he pulls at his collar and sweats from his brow that he’s tense. I know him too well for him to hide from me. I won’t lie and say it didn’t sting to see him brush away the mark of my kiss on his hand, but the pain is dulled by his family and his soft smile assuring me he’s still down on earth right here beside me. It’s all my naive, young love sick brain could ever need from him, and I’m back on my feet.

He doesn’t hold me like he once did. Maybe the salt in the air had clouded his vision, maybe the sunlight made everything feel more genuine. Maybe thats why he once held me like it was his purpose. Like by not having me, he was killing himself. Maybe it was the changing seasons, or maybe it was his mother. But then again, he doesn’t talk much anymore anyways. At least, thats what Jeremiah says at dinner.

He complains how Conrad has no friends at school because he prefers to sit quietly in his dorm, the door only open because his roommate requested it to be so. How his mouth is never dry, he must have so much to say but never says it. His teasing turns sour when Conrad shrugs and mumbles something I don’t quite catch under his breath. I understand it to be something bitter, something rude from the way his eyebrows are furrowed and how Jeremiah’s smile drops. He tries to find his train of thought again, but the more jokes he tries to make towards his brother, hoping for that old banter, the more he is met with silence. Soon the fork is thrown to the plate and the brunette is gone into the backyard to talk with the neighborhood stray cat.

I clear my throat, understanding the discomfort coming from Susannah, the anger pouring from Jeremiah and the quiet coming from Conrad. All their faces are red, blushing in embarrassment. Red like Jeremiahs eyes right before he stormed off. It didn’t really make sense, how quickly it turned sour.

Susannah gathers the plates in her hands, uncaring about the way potatoes fall to the floor or how the carrots roll onto the table cloth. I ask her if she needs help, I beg her to let me but she shoos me away.

“It’s too nice out to be here with me in the kitchen. I’ve always found peace in the repetitive action of doing dishes.” She explains calmly, “This time of year is too short to spend inside. You kids go have fun.” She tries to persuade. And I’m not going to go, but Conrad puts his hand in mine for the first time all night, and his pull is so magnetic I don’t even care how I barely have time to slip on my jacket and my boots. I don’t care that my scarf still hangs from the banister or how i’m slightly thirsty.

It’s wet outside, the sky painted with a sunset so pure, it felt like Van Gogh had to have painted it himself. Last bits of sunlight shining through the tree branches and down onto the street. As soon as we’re far enough to never turn back, not run in to aid Susannah, he drops my hand.

I think it must be from the way his palms get clammy when they are warm enough, but he sets them in his pockets and pushes down. I wish he would talk more, I see why Jeremiahs teasing slowly became bitter. I wish I knew what to say to him.

Her eyes look everywhere but into mine. I can feel them. In my pockets, on my feet, in the sky, through the bushes and over the stone wall that fell with the rain next door. I can hear her breathing in the silence, see her smile with the passing puddles. And her footsteps in the mist that falls down gently.

“Heartbreak, you know, drives a big black car.” She jokes, pointing at the empty streets. I watch a large van pass by, a single man with a frown behind the wheel. The jokes not that funny, is it even a joke? I’m not even sure. Maybe it was my silence, or my unwillingness to play nice. Maybe she was just making conversation.

Stepping in the puddles, I watch our reflection bend. She sticks out her tongue, but I can only frown. I understand now that no matter how this ends she will forever haunt me. I’ll see her smile in the rain and hear her voice in the breeze. She was a phonograph, I was a kid. She was everything, and yet nothing.

I’m thankful when I see the red door cracked open on my house. I’m thankful that my mother is asleep on the couch and my brother is distracted by the orange cat rolling on his back for stomach scratches. I’m thankful for my father’s absence and how quietly Y/n hangs her coat. I’m thankful I don’t have to make conversation and that the day is almost over. At least when I’m asleep, I have an excuse to ignore everyone.

My room feels like heaven. Carpet under my sock clad feet and the pillows bent in the way I slept. I’m ready to lay back and let the day melt into a faint memory. I’m ready to forget how I feel, and what I love.

The bed dips beside me when I lay down. I can hear the sigh leave her lips, conversation on the tip of her tongue. So I pull her back to my chest and hold her close.

“Con,” She mumbles quietly. I haven’t quite mastered the evening of my breathing. She knows I’m awake. “Why won’t you talk to me?” She asks, solemnly. Like my silence physically pains her.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” I don’t feel like talking. I can’t. Not now, I’m afraid it will all come out. I’ll spew out complements to cover my insecurities. How wonderful she is, a summer breeze passing through the darkest winters. The first break of sun after a long tireless night. And how I cannot compare, how I cannot have her because it’s not fair to keep the more deserving from her.

When she pulls away, the heater is not enough to warm my cold heart. When she frowns, my pillows aren’t comfortable enough to ease the pain in my heart.

Shes pacing the room, rubbing her temples. Her fingers leave little marks, changing the color of her skin slightly when she pulls too hard. It fades back into its warmth when he fingers fall to her sides.

“What do you want from me, Con?” Her voice shakes, but she does not shy away. She doesn’t run. She will fight with all she has, even if she trembles and cries. And she will speak until she has nothing left to say.

“I don’t know.” I admit shamefully, standing up, my long strides close the gap between us. I want to hold her in my arms and put her in my pocket forever. A photo would never be enough. A photo didn’t hum little melodies in the kitchen, a photo didn’t make stupid jokes and a photo didn’t have her laugh.

When my hands reach up to hold her, they settle on her face. I don’t know what to say, I can’t find the words. My lips stutter and only a squeak can get past my lips.

Her fingers meet my left hand, holding her hand gently on top of mine. But unlike at the dinner table, she interlocks our fingers and holds me there.

She presses another kiss to the palm of my hand, and like she had earlier, the red from her lips left a soft remnant of her lips. Staining the skin with a weak smudge. When she went to wipe it away, I flinched. Why did I flinch?

"No, don't." I pleaded softly. I watched her inch away.

"What are you playing at Conrad? One minute you hate me, the next you want me." I didn't hate her. I just didn’t know.

God, how could she think I hated her? All l ever wanted was her. I just loved her too much. I was drowning in her. Slowly killing myself.

"I don't know." I couldn't say much more, I couldn't even look at her anymore. This time, she drops my hand. And the red from her lips stings my skin like a bullet through my palm. But the tears in her eyes hurt much more than a loaded gun. I would have rather been shot through the ribs than see the way her eyes glossed over because of me. How her lips quivered and finally shut. She had no more back and forth to pursue. She had said everything she wanted to say. We had run our course, it seemed.

“Loose my number, Conrad.” And shes gone like the wind, out of the door in silence other than the shaking of the coat rack and the movement of her boots. I swear I hear Jeremiah come inside. He asks very softly where shes going. I imagine she’s smiling, holding his cheek like the good big sister she is to him. His role model that I so selfishly ripped away from him by breaking her heart. I wonder if they’ll keep in touch now that it’s over.

When the door shuts, I notice two things. One, Jeremiah is standing at the door, eyes wide and mouth open. He looks confused until he sees me, and the anger is surely possessing his body by now, but he doesn’t seem to want to move. His hand stuck to his cheek, covering the stain of red left behind on his cheek. The final kiss goodbye. I know then, he won’t hear from her that often anymore. At least, not right now.

Second, I notice the maroon scarf hanging on the banister. It’s soft and still smells like her perfume. I can smell it when I get too close. It’ll stay in our home, along with her jokes and the piece of her heart she left behind when her first love shattered her heart. Maybe it’s the look of guilt on my face, or the tears in my own eyes, but Jeremiah makes his way to me finally. And I expect a punch once he reaches the third step, but instead his arms wrap around my body and his head tucks into my shoulder.

He mumbles something about it being okay, but it’s muffled against the loud memories of her that I try to keep locked in my mind so that I never forget them. He says it more for himself than for me, and I understand that I’ve left not one heart in pieces, but three.

Leaving that house, I leave behind pieces of me I wish I never gave away. I leave behind the Pinterest boards of wedding dressing and flowers and rings in boxes. I leave behind our future dog’s name and the house we picked out in the summer, the future we dreamed about.

Suddenly the color maroon didn't remind me of autumn anymore. Not of the traditions and the cinnamon. Chai and tights and boots and fairy lights.

It reminds me of the blood I left on my fingers where I bit them. Of the blood pouring from my heart now that it's shattered. Of the train I'll be riding home far too soon. Of my favorite scarf, that still hangs from the banister. That still smells like his house. That I wonder if he will keep it or toss it.

I went tor a walk that next morning. The sun wasn't up yet, and the birds were long gone. Families snuggled inside of their homes. When I walked down the stairs, I let my fingers touch the cool wood of the banister to wake me. I let my hand rub over the soft scarf thats not mine, but hers. And I bring it to my nose to see if I can still smell her.

When I go for my walk I turn to the left every time until I'm almost back home. I've gone in big circles.

Everywhere yet no where. When I reach the street sign, a neighbor honks to me. He's at the stop sign, driving a big black car. I don't wave back. I'm far too shocked to move. The same sad man sitting in the car with his dog in the seat beside him and his aging mother curled up in the backseat. He doesn’t look so sad today. He looks indifferent, but not sad.

When he drives away I can't help but raise my arm. I point. "Heartbreak, drives a big black car." I joke. And only now do I find the joke funny. Only now that I'm hurting.

[clamberclogs]

Weird bit o fic I’m slowly working on - imagined scene after the winter dance 

Steve rapped his knuckles on the window. Billy rolled it down a fraction of an inch. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure Harringrove?” Steve couldn’t believe him. He was wearing a half-unbuttoned t-shirt. Steve was freezing in his sweater. 

“Hoping to bum a smoke.” Steve brought his two fingers to his lips, miming smoking. 

“Don’t have any smokes.” Billy took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the window at Steve. 

“Fine.” Steve turned to go, but Billy’s words stopped him. 

“I suppose I could spare one,” Billy was grinning, his eyes and teeth unusually bright in the dark, “What will you give me for it?” 

Steve stood, a few feet away from the car. Unconsciously, he touched his fingers to the raised scar in his hairline, the remnants of the plate. 

“I’ve got to wait around for Dustin, I’m picking him up.” 

“Why exactly do I care pretty boy?” 

“You’re waiting for Max.” It wasn’t a question but Billy nodded anyway. Steve nodded back, definitive. 

“Give me a smoke and then we’ll get burgers.” He watched, and in the dark he could see Billy’s eyes widen slightly. 

“I’m paying.” Steve added 

“What a gentleman,” Billy reached across and opened the passenger door to the Camaro,

“I’m driving.” 

Steve shrugged, holding his hand out for a cigarette. Billy passed him the one he’d already lit. Steve considered for a second, then took a drag. 

They drove in silence. Steve rolled his window down to smoke, shivering in the December air. 

The diner was bright and warm, the smell of grease and bacon billowing out when Steve opened the door. 

“This is fucking wholesome,” Billy gestured at the diner. Steve shrugged. Why had he thought this was a good idea? 

“I would’ve suggested getting blind drunk and smashing things, I know that’s more your speed, but I didn’t want the rugrats walking home or having weird middle school dance sex,” Steve flagged down a waitress, ignoring how red Billy’s face went. 

“Max is the only girl those freaks know, they better not be doing anything.” 

“Cool it, I’m kidding.” 

“You better be,” Billy glared murderously at his burger. 

“Or what, you’ll rearrange my face for me.” 

Billy just looked at him. 

“Water under the bridge man, seriously.” Steve grabbed a fry from Billy’s plate, waving it at him. “Like, I really hope you don’t do it again, but, say la vee.” 

“C’est la vie,” muttered Billy. “Exactly,” Steve took another fry. 

“Alright Harrington, why the sudden desire to be friends?” Billy asked, pinning Steve with a hard stare. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure I want to be friends.” 

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t expect us to start braiding each other's hair, I just think life would be easier if we were cool with each other, like, neutral.” 

Billy seemed to consider this. Then, he spoke, softly this time, looking down at his own plate “Why the fuck were you out there with the kids?” He looked up, making eye contact with Steve, “You have to admit it was weird.” 

Steve sat in silence, considering. No to Steve it hadn’t seemed weird, but, he thought back to the school parking lot, a million years ago, when he’d smashed Jonathan’s camera. Sure, Jonathan had seemed like the biggest perv in the world, and maybe he was a little bit of a perv, but, he’d been looking for Will, and he’d been right. The demogorgon had struck that night. Steve tried to imagine pulling up, looking for Max, and finding only Steve and the other kids. 

“Yeah,” Steve looked down at his plate, “yeah, I can see how it might’ve seemed weird.” 

“Max swears you’ve never touched her or anything.” 

Steve looked up sharply, Billy was staring at him, his eyes narrowed. 

“Fuck man, no I’d never.” 

“Yeah, I got that.” Billy looked back at his plate, “still fucking weird.” 

“Yep,” Steve took another fry. 

“Harrington, eat your own french fries you perv,” Billy was looking at him again, but not as harshly. 

Steve remembered at the end of the meal he’d paid, pulling his jacket on as he slide out of the booth. Billy had reached across the table and grabbed the little plastic marker with the number 7, their order number. 

“Dude, are you seriously stealing that?” Steve had whispered. 

Billy nodded, “adding it to my collection pretty boy.”

[ghostly-penumbra]

Gotta do everything myself here

Ao3

Summary: Sam Mourner and Robin of the bats, sitting on the edge of a building, f-l-y-i-n-g!

Hope no one is invading their privacy!

- - -

“Tucker, I see them!” Danny called from the window of the shitty room in an abandoned building they had temporarily invaded for the sole purpose of spying on their friend’s date with Robin. “They are hanging out next to a gargoyle!”

“If it can’t drain rainwater then it’s a grotesque.”

Danny turned to his wonderful, beloved boyfriend, and said, “I still don’t get how people think I’m the only nerd among us.”

The goth looked up from his Wayne Tech® catalogue with a smirk and asked, “Yeah, why ever would they!”, and looked at Danny up and down, his backwards cap, thick glasses and NASA sweater shirt.

Danny huffed, red cheeked, and went back to spying. When he saw the scene again, he chuckled, “She’s doing the ‘fly with me’ thing!”

From his position against the wall, Tucker chuckled too. “What a sap.” But in spite of what he said, there was fondness in his smile.

-

Dick held tight onto Sam as the ghostly girl floated them away from the rooftop, her movements slow and measured.

He had one arm over her shoulders and she, in turn, had one under his arms, being the one of major strength; their other hands they had joined in front of them, and so they looked as if they were about to dance.

“Now, check this out.” The heroine said.

Sam smiled at him, and the ethereal glow she emanated expanded, enveloping Robin as well somehow without blinding him.

“I’m still working it on making it better, like, more in control, but as long as we keep contact it’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” And just like that, and even though he liked the current position he and his date were in, Dick let go of their embrace and held only to her hand.

Rather than gravity taking hold of him and leaving him hanging onto his airborne date, Robin remained floating as well, with the ground far below him.

“Wonderful.” He breathed out.

-

“That’s it! I’ll go get him!” Damian stood up from his watch and took out his grappling hook, about to shoot off towards the lovebirds, only to have Batgirl latch onto his waist, almost making him stumble.

“Redwing, no! Don’t be a moron! Robin’s just having a good time.” Barbara told him, trying to drag him back down.

“Robin has left his guard down! He could be dropped and plummet to his death if she so wishes!”

“Let them. Have. FUN!” Batgirl insisted. In the face of her partner-in-spying’s continued grumbling, she thought screw it and went for the throat. “I think it reminds him of the circus!” Redwing froze, and Batgirl took the opportunity with both hands and pressed it. “Maybe he’s remembering what it was like to fly with his parents, or what they looked like when they flew together.”

“He flies with us all the time.” Redwing grumbled, but still didn’t move.

“So it is jealously? You’re just bitter your baby brother is spending time with someone other than you?”

“… that’s stupid.” Damian said in weak protest.

Batgirl finally let go of him, and placed her hands firmly on her hips. “Then don’t be stupid.”

With a put upon “Tt,” the first Batboy hunkered back down. “Sometimes you’re too smart, you know?”

Babs smiled as she joined him again.

“And I’ll only get worse.”

Reverse/Inverse Trio AU + Age Swapped BatKids AU

[reidingmelodies]

Finders Keepers

A/N:  It’s been ages since I’ve written anything, so I figured it was about time I got back into it!  Hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) Warnings: None Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7K

“What’s wrong with you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan questioned as Spencer rushed into the BAU Tuesday morning, fingers threading through his curls and a look of pure agitation gracing his features.  As if he didn’t hear the question directed towards him, Spencer continued to storm through the room, nearly stumbling into Morgan in his quest to reach his desk.

Pupils dilating, Morgan looked towards JJ who had taken stock of the scene from her chair, brows already furrowed and legs moving to stand and head towards her fellow colleague.

Taking the lead, JJ swiftly headed to Spencer’s side, moving to place a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it and placing both hands on the edge of his desk instead, Mama Bear instincts dialed all the way up.  “Everything okay, Spence?  You seem annoyed.”  

Morgan scoffed before thinking better of it, “I’d say he’s a bit more than annoyed, JJ”.  No sooner than the words had left his mouth he was given a swift elbow in his side from JJ and an eye roll from Spencer and all that was left for Morgan to do was raise his hands in defeat.

Sighing, Spencer turned back to his desk before mumbling a response back to them, “I’m fine, guys.  I think I lost my copy of War and Peace on the Metro this morning.  It was in my bag when I left my place, it must have fallen out when I was trying to grab my umbrella.  I thought maybe I just forgot and left it here, but apparently not”.

“You and I both know you don’t forget anything, Pretty Boy,” Morgan chimed in, visibly less tense now that he knew there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Actually Morgan that’s not entirely true.  I have an eidetic memory which means-”

“There’s the Reid we all know and love,” JJ chuckled, heading back to her desk to get ready for the day ahead of them.  Morgan followed, leaving the bullpen in search of Garcia and Spencer sighed, trying to move past the fact that one of his favorite books was no longer in his possession.  Logically, he knew he could buy a replacement copy after work, but deep down he knew it wasn’t the same.

The words dancing across the page would be the same ones that brought him entertainment and the comfort found in familiarity throughout his life, but the book within his hands wouldn’t hold the same nostalgic memories.  He wouldn’t look down at the tattered cover and reminisce on his first jet ride with the BAU, thinking back on how he brushed his fingers against the book’s familiar spine while trying to calm his stomach filled with nervous jitters at the prospect of working with unfamiliar people.  He wouldn’t look at the dog-eared pages and remember how the words on those exact pages brought him comfort on nights he would escape to his bedroom and try to leave memories of aggressive classmates and whispering peers behind.  

Any thought of potentially buying a new copy of the book after the workday was dispelled though as Garcia called everyone into the conference room to discuss a pending case in Phoenix, no sooner followed by a “wheels up in thirty” announcement from Hotch.  Grabbing his go-bag and leaving the bullpen, Spencer filled his head with thoughts of the case, half of his brain racing ahead to connect victimology and significant locations while the other half was stuck repeating a never-ending mantra of “it’s just a book” in the back of his mind.

***

As Spencer was boarding a jet to head 468 miles north, Y/N was playing with a loose thread on her sweater, thinking about the long day of work ahead of her.  Breaking her trance, she looked up and instead glanced up at the now empty row of seats in front of her.  Her brows furrowed as she saw a book stuck in the crack between the far left seat cushion and the back of the chair, and before she knew it her curiosity overtook her.  Y/N found herself standing from the seat, travel mug and bag in tow, before reaching for the dictionary-like book that was calling to her.  The title War and Peace glared back at her, and a quick turn of the cover revealed faded words written in blue ink proclaiming that the book was the “Property of Spencer Reid”.   With the announcement of her stop blaring over the loudspeaker and the weight of someone else’s book in their hand, Y/N made a split second decision to stuff the book into her bag, leaving the Metro with not only thoughts of the upcoming workday but visions of whom the mysterious Spencer Reid could be.

The workday passed by slowly, each passing second filled with the overwhelming desire to search for Spencer Reid on Google.  By the time Y/N was on the Metro ride home, any and all motivation to search for the book’s rightful owner went out the door as her irritation grew with the rising heat of the increasingly packed subway car.  Needing a distraction, her hand reached into her bag, initially moving for her cell phone but making a last second switch as her hand brushed the spine of the book.  May as well spend my time doing something productive, she thought as she gently pulled the book out of it’s temporary home.  With a final sigh, she turned to the first page and began to read.

As Y/N was tearing through the pages of War and Peace at an alarmingly quicker rate than she anticipated that night, Spencer was filling out a WMTA lost and found form in the hopes that someone had the decency to return his book.  Knowing his luck, he assumed it was long gone and in the trash somewhere, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one last ditch effort at finding it.  Groaning, Spencer called it a night and went to bed, silently vowing to find his book the second he stepped foot off the BAU jet again.        

***

Six days later the BAU team landed in Quantico, making plans to head to a bar for a drink before a well deserved day off.  As designated drivers were assigned and phone calls home were made Spencer gathered his things, making a beeline to the door in the hopes of reaching the WMTA’s designated lost and found area before it closed for the night.  He was a foot away from the door before a soft hand grasped his wrist, immediately stopping him in his tracks.

“Skipping out on the bar tonight, Reid?” Emily questioned, head tilted as she noticed how frazzled her friend was.

“I’m just gonna go home and watch a bit of Dr.Who” Spencer began, desperately trying to think of something that would let him out the door without further questions.  “Speaking of Dr. Who, did you know that it was originally created to be an educational show for kids?  It’s actually really interesting-”

“Say no more, Dr. Reid,” Emily laughed, letting go of his wrist and heading back towards the others, “enjoy your night”.  Spencer tightly smiled, leaving the bullpen and making his way to downtown DC in search of his book.  An hour later and he wasn’t any closer to finding his book, ultimately giving up and heading to the bookstore to buy himself another copy.

It was at that same time JJ and Derek found themselves hysterically laughing at a corner booth in the bar, thinking about how Spencer probably missed out on meeting the love of his life that night- a woman sitting in the booth directly across from them, War and Peace open on the table in front of her and a pen and highlighter busy at work marking up post its that were being meticulously placed on the book’s pages.

***

A month and a half went by and Spencer had officially given up hope on finding his lost book.  In the six weeks since he had last seen it he refrained from reading his new copy, not willing to give up the small amount of hope he had that he would be reunited with his original book.  That evening though, as the Metro had yet another delay and the subway car continued to get hotter and hotter, he figured there was no better time than the present and pulled out his new copy of War and Peace.  A few pages in, a sudden jolt of the car made him glance up and almost immediately he locked eyes with the woman across from him.  In the span of ten seconds, his thoughts ranged from she’s beautiful to hold on- she’s holding my book and before his legs fully alerted his brain what was happening he found himself on his feet and sitting in the empty seat directly next to her.

As Spencer’s brain began to register just how bad of an idea it was to sit next to a stranger as abruptly as he just did, the woman next to him gripped her bag slightly tighter, tilting her head to the side as she peaked a look at the man next to her.

Her mouth opened to speak, but before she could do so Spencer interrupted her, desperately trying to save himself from any embarrassment her words could bring.

“That’s my book,” he bluntly stated, mentally hitting himself as he watched her adorably confused features morph into a look of defense.

“No.. that’s your book,” she pointed down to his lap, where his new copy of War and Peace was resting between his palms.

“No it’s not- well, it is but it isn’t really?” Spencer tried to explain, his face growing more and more red with each word that left his mouth.

“So it’s your book, but not your book?” She questioned, lips curling up into a slight smile as she witnessed the sweet agitation of the man in front of her.

“Yes!  I lost my book on the metro almost two months ago.  This is just my replacement copy, and I don’t know how I know, but I’m positive the book in your hands right now is the one that I lost.”  Spencer finished his spiel, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in realization and her mouth formed an “o” shape.

“You’re Spencer Reid?” she asked, and now it was his turn to play the part of the confused companion.

“I- yes? But, how do you know my name?” As soon as the question left his mouth the image of the title page of his book filled his head and all too soon he was practically yelling with joy in the poor woman’s face.  “Wait, that is my book then!  Does it say Property of Spencer Reid on the cover page?”

The woman laughed, and Spencer watched as any traces of tension left her body.  “I’m so sorry!  I found it on the Metro on my way to work, and I meant to look you up- not in a creepy way,” she continued, growing more flustered with each passing second.  “I was gonna try and find you to return it but then I started reading it and I liked it more than I thought I would and I just,” She stooped, taking a breath and giving him the most adorable set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen.  “I’m just really sorry, I shouldn’t have held onto it as long as I did”.  She finished, and held the book up, holding it out towards Spencer’s hands.  “I think this belongs to you”.

“It’s not a problem at all, I promise,” Spencer reassured her with a warm smile on his face, “thanks for keeping it safe”.  Something about her filled his stomach with joy, and as he looked at her he saw a similar smile mirrored back at him.  It was at that moment he knew he would do anything to keep that look of happiness on her face, stranger or not.  “You know what,” he continued, “you should keep it- finders keepers and all that”.

Y/N laughed in disbelief, immediately shaking her head and pushing the book closer to its rightful owner.  “It’s bad enough I’ve had it this long,” she admitted.  “It belongs with you”.

“At least take this one then?”  Spencer’s brain continued to be a few steps ahead of him, and before he knew it he was taking the book in the stranger’s outstretched hands and placing his new copy in her grasp.  “It looks like you still have a hundred pages or so left and I wouldn’t want to keep you from finishing it.  Besides, I definitely don’t need two copies”.

The woman smiled and gave him an enthusiastic nod, and Spencer couldn’t help but think he just made the best decision of his life.  The speaker above them announced the next stop, and with a sudden jump she left her seat, discarding the new book into her bag and turning towards Spencer on her way to the door.  “Thanks, Spencer!” she exclaimed, “maybe I’ll see you around sometime”.  Another smile was sent his way, and before he earned up the nerve to ask for her name she was gone, disappearing into a growing crowd of commuters desperate to get back to the comfort of their homes and begin the weekend ahead.

***

The following morning, Spencer found himself in his living room with a mug of coffee in his hand, completely lost in his thoughts.  He was trying to calculate the chances of seeing the mystery woman again, considering it took six weeks after losing his book to see her for the first time at all.  

He groaned, inwardly cursing himself for his lack of courage the day before and wishing he at least had a name to match to the face that wouldn’t leave his mind.  As the coffee cooled, he found his gaze wandering to the coffee table where he had laid the book and his satchel the previous night.  With a sigh, Spencer picked up the book only to notice a bright orange post-it sticking out of one of the pages.

“The strongest of all warriors are these two- time and patience” was written in loopy writing, highlighted in yellow with exactly twelve exclamation points in red ink under it.  He was a man of science, but he couldn’t help but feel as though finding one of his favorite quotes from the novel staring up at him was a sign.

As he continued to skim the pages, he found note after note filled with quotes, reactions, and doodles and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for the stranger who put them all there.  It was a book that held countless memories for Spencer, but already he could tell that this was going to be his ultimate favorite.  

Backtracking to the front page, Spencer saw his familiar scrawl had been slightly covered by a light blue post it note.  “If this book gets lost a second time I don’t want to make the same mistake as the first guy… please call Y/N at-” Spencer laughed, immediately grabbing his phone to dial the number before he has time to talk himself out of it.

As the phone began to ring, he thought about how he couldn’t picture her name being anything else.  It was as beautiful as she was, and he longed to properly meet the woman who managed to get his heart racing with just a few post-it notes.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of his phone answered, and Spencer could immediately tell it was the same woman from the subway.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” he began, fingers nervously twiddling together.  At her hum of acknowledgement he continues, “This is Spencer, the guy who’s book you had?  I was just looking through the post-its you left behind and I love the perspective you have on the book.  Plus, it was so nice of you to even hold onto it in the first place so I was wondering if you’d wanna get coffee, maybe?  So I can say thank you for everything and talk about the book with you?”

The opposite end of the phone was silent and Spencer’s face grew red, his hands moving to his hair because how could he possibly think she wanted to meet him, she didn’t even know him and-

“I was hoping you’d find that post-it note,” she giggled, and with the sound all of Spencer’s worries completely washed away.  “Absolutely”.

***

Link to join my taglist ♡

[sserpente]

A/N: So this is a much requested Part II of this Christmas Imagine which I suppose you can also read on its own. Also has requests from @keepcalmandtravelonkate and @fandom-rpblog as well as the exclusive Zoom meeting idea. Haha, enjoy everyone! ♥

Words: 1822 Warnings: fluff

Christmas Eve came sooner than you had thought and it was about as cheerful as you had imagined it. Thor greeted you with mug of steaming hot chocolate first thing in the morning, wearing the ugly Christmas sweater you had bought him last year and Tony was already in the spacious living room with Pepper to finish up the preparations for his annual Christmas party.

You spent the entire day baking biscuits and didn’t see Loki all day but for some peculiar reason you hoped that he too would attend the biggest Christmas party in New York City. Tony had invited everyone—no, that was not entirely true, the party was, in fact, for everyone—especially those who had no one else to spend Christmas Eve with or wanted to do so with none other than the famous Avengers.

With a sigh, you finished applying your red lipstick and admired yourself in the mirror. The green dress shimmering like a thousand tiny crystals had cost you way more than what you would normally spend on clothes but the occasion was worth it. You had only realised after that green was Loki’s colour too. Another sigh escaped your lips.

The God of Mischief and you had not really spoken since the roof-incident. Part of you wondered whether he was about as confused as you about what had happened between you, especially after Thor had interpreted your entanglement in a romantic manner, the other insisted you didn’t think too much of it. Loki was just… Loki. Mysterious, mischievous and handsome. Wait… handsome?

By the time you arrived at the party, more than two dozen guests had already arrived. Dressed in Christmas pullovers, suits or festive dresses much like you, they held small glasses full of mulled wine, eggnog or champagne, munching on biscuits and other Christmas treats and chatting with each other and the superheroes who had already joined the party guests, impressing them with their stories and their skills.

Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Loki standing only a few feet away from you. Heavens, he should not be allowed to wear suits. Instead of the light version of his Asgardian signature outfit you usually saw him in, the God of Mischief was dressed in an all-black suit complimenting his raven hair and tall figure. It was perfect to blend in and not attract too much attention, for many citizens still avoided him like the plague after everything that had happened only a few years back. Your eyes met, sending waves of electricity though you, and he nodded.

You furrowed your brows when somebody spoke your name. “Is that you?” Much to your dismay, you recognised the voice immediately. It belonged to Derek, your ex-boyfriend. Derek who collected action figures of the Avengers and who owned a Captain America costume worth five-hundred dollars. Derek, who had cheated on you with other women and, upon your break-up, had blamed you for the sexual imbalance in your relationship. Needless to say, you had not exactly ended it on good terms. The last thing you wanted to do was chat to him of all people on Christmas Eve. Much rather, you’d finally spend some time with Loki again. He was fun to be around once he had warmed up to someone…

“I tried to text you like… a hundred times.”

“I saw. I blocked your number after fifty.” You retorted.

“Don’t be like that. I was going to make up, you know.”

“You literally told me it’s my fault that you went ahead and fucked other women behind my back, Derek!”

“Because you didn’t give me what I need in the bedroom, baby. We should have talked about that more. It wouldn’t happen again. Let’s talk about this. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay… Care to dance with me then?”

“Absolutely not.” You hissed.

“Come on. You are not here with someone, are you?”

You blinked. Fuck. Think, think, think. “Yes, actually.” You lied quickly. Your eyes fell on Loki who met your gaze again in a strange and almost affectionate way—something had definitely changed between you since he had helped you decorate the Avengers facility and you remembered, with butterflies in your belly, how he had caught you in his arms when you had fallen off the roof like a bird with broken wings. The idea came to you before you could properly think it through. Derek would never dare to defy someone like Loki. He was your perfect alibi to get rid of him.

“I’m here with my boyfriend. You probably know Loki?” Before you could change your mind, you stepped forward, closed the remaining distance between you and put your arm under Loki’s. He did not fail to react. Turning away from Thor, he frowned and stared at your linked arms, then opened his mouth to question you. Much to your relief, however, the gesture did not seem to anger him.

You shot him a pleading glance. Play along, you thought. Please, take the hint.

“Are you serious right now?” Derek spat, a both disgusted and shocked expression on his face.

Much to your surprise—or maybe not—Loki wrapped his arms around your middle then, pressing you against his strong body. Your heart skipped a beat. This felt like him cradling you in his arms like a bride, only more… intense, for this time—this time, it was actually intentional.

Loki gave Derek a glare, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “Are you alright, my sweet mortal?” My sweet mortal? “I believe you have promised me a dance.”

Derek swallowed, blinking at you a few times—and then, without a word, he shook his head and disappeared in the burbling and dancing crowd. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Good thing for you he’d always been a coward.

But while relief was flooding your veins, at the very same time, adrenaline set every single cell of your body on fire. Loki was still holding you. His lips against your skin had felt like the gentle kiss of a butterfly… You looked up, if anything not to make the situation even more awkward than it already was, given that by now, both Thor and Natasha had become rather taken aback witnesses as well.

“Thank you. I really owe you.” You muttered.

“I take it this was a former suitor of yours?”

You gave him a weak smile. “That’s a very elegant way to put it but yes, he is my ex-boyfriend. I left him when I found out he cheated on me—repeatedly. I panicked when he approached me and I knew he’d be scared of you.”

“Why thank you.” Loki replied with dismay before, much to your surprise, a smirk grew on his lips.

“No! I just meant…”

“I know what you meant. So?”

“S-so what?”

“He is still watching you. You would do well to keep up the act.” Loki said, keeping you from spinning around to check. But he was probably right either way. You had just announced in front of a bunch of strangers as well as your ex-boyfriend and two Avengers that Loki and you were dating. You were honestly surprised the Trickster did not at all seem too bothered by this very circumstance, not to mention what it meant for you. Ever since the roof-incident, you certainly didn’t mind clinging onto him like that.

“Dance with me.” He commanded softly, one of his large hands coming to rest on your waist while the other interlinked with yours. “He will lose interest if you feign easiness.”

You nodded quickly, leaning into him to not raise any suspicion and taking a deep breath when the side of your face connected with his chest. Loki rested his chin on the top of your head, weighing you gently from side to side as if the music was made of waves carrying you over an ocean. It was a classic playing right now—What are you doing New Year’s Eve by Ella Fitzgerald—sweet, calm… romantic. This evening was going in a very dangerous direction now but you couldn’t help but feel safe and protected in the God of Mischief’s arms. Who would have thought that putting up Christmas decoration together would create such a strong bond between two people… a mortal and a god on top of that?

“I got you a Christmas present, you know.” You murmured after a while.

His voice vibrated in his chest, you could feel it against your cheek. “Did you now?”

“Hmm…” He stole away your ability to speak. That was so unfair! “I was going to give it to you tomorrow morning but… would you like me to give it to you now, in private?” It would be the perfect excuse to get away from here for a bit too, even if, in better lighting, Loki would probably notice your blushed cheeks.

“Lead the way, my sweet mortal.” There it was again. Smiling up at him sheepishly, you moved a step back and took his hand, practically fleeing from the scene.

Loki remained in the doorway when you reached your room. Whether it was out of decency or respect, you couldn’t quite tell. You crossed your room with quick steps, reaching for Loki’s gift under your bed. You had wrapped it in green paper and decorated it with a golden bow. A bit of a cliché perhaps but it looked just perfect.

“Merry Christmas, Loki.” You said when you returned to him and handed it to him. He only took it hesitatingly.

“Why did you get me a gift?”

You shrugged. “I just wanted to be nice. I doubt the others will have gotten you something so I thought… just so you can unwrap something too?” You almost choked on your nervous laughter. “You know I almost decided not to give it to you after all after you almost drove me mad when I was hanging up the Christmas lights.”

Loki chuckled. “I suppose you made that consideration before I saved your life.”

“More or less...” You replied, winking at him. Hey… this isn’t so hard after all!

Your heart was pounding in your chest by the time he unwrapped it, revealing the notebook and the green and gold fountain pen you had gotten him. It even came with green ink.

“It’s not much, really, just…” You said quickly. “I keep seeing you scribbling and reading a lot and I thought…”

“Thank you.” He interrupted. Honesty swung in his smooth voice, making your heart beat faster in an instant. At this speed, you were going to need an ambulance soon.

You smiled. “I ought to thank you. Derek is a dick. You saved me twice now, I’m in your debt.”

Loki chuckled once more, looking you deeply in the eye. “Yes. I believe you are.” It was, without a doubt, a promise.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente 

[teeth-farie]

Hhhh a scene in my head for that faux replaced au

Yuki gives a tentative swish of the wine in their glass, bringing it up to their nose to sniff. You watch, amusement dancing in your eye while you sip from your own glass. They take a sip and scrunch their nose in disgruntlement. “Eugh, nope, still don’t like wine.” They continue to sip anyway, cupping the glass in both of their hands.

“You know, you’re doing a lot better than I thought you would.” You say, crossing one leg over the other. Yuki peers up from their glass—and with the way they’re hunched in their seat in the couch, the way their wide eyes and round glasses lock with yours, you have the overwhelming desire to pinch their cheeks. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re in hell, aren’t we?” You chuckle, taking another sip of your wine. It’s a bitter red and dry on your tongue, the faint burn seeping down your throat and spreading through your chest. Truly, it’s a miracle you got your hands on human world alcohol. “Someone so sweet natured as you would have gotten eaten up in a day.” You can see why the brothers like them so much. They’re soft around the edges, so kind and naive- it’d be easy for them to fall into the wrong hands. Luckily for Yuki, you aren’t a bad person.

“It’s good that I have you then!” Yuki takes another drink, then sputters into the glass. “I-I mean the brothers, it’s good I have the brothers. I know I’m not your responsibility, I don’t want to be like some baby you have to watch over—“

Your laugh cuts them off and their face burns hot. “I get what you mean. Besides, it’s good to have trust in your fellow human, right?”

Yuki tugs on the sleeves of their cardigan, a high pitched little laugh bubbling from their lips. “Y-yeah, I guess so!”

They’re still so nervous around you, blubbering about and correcting themselves over the tiniest thing. It reminds you a lot of Levi. Maybe that’s why they get along so well together. You just wish Yuki would be more comfortable around you like they are with the brothers. Ah, well, they’ll perk up eventually.

“Don’t stress about it too much. Let’s make a toast,” you grab your glass, holding it out across the low table between your couches. Yuki fumbles with their glass before thrusting it out, the deep red wine sloshing just shy of the rim. “To sticking together.”

Yuki nudges their glass against your with a tiny clink. “To sticking together!”

…

Yuki is more of a lightweight than you expected. They’ve finished their first glass and are halfway into their second. “You know,” they slump back against the couch cushions. “When I first came here and I heard ‘bout you I thought ‘wowww, they’re so strong’.” They emphasize ‘strong’ with a deeper tone, an ever present smile on their face—one that’s shows the little gap between their front two teeth.

“You made pacts with all the brothers! I think you’re so cool,” Yuki giggles, rubbing at their flushed cheeks. “It’s been a while since I’ve drinken.”

“Drank.” You correct.

“That too.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. Yuki taps their fingers on the table, gathering your attention back on them. “I- before, I said I was jealous.” Their fluffy brown hair falls in their face and the blow a lock away. “Do you still feel that way?” You’re tuning in more. You truly hope Yuki hasn’t formed a distaste, that they haven’t grown to see you as a threat.

“Yeah.” They say, then wave their hands wildly. “Not of you!! I, uh,” Yuki swallows and tugs at the collar of their sweater. “The brothers..they get someone like you…” they clench their hands together, balled up fists in their lap. “To be their master! Why can’t I have that?”

What?

“Yuki, what are you saying-“

Yuki stands abruptly, knees knocking into the table, lips pressed together in a thin line. “I..I don’t think it’s fair! They get to have you all to themselves!” They’re even redder, chest heaving under the baggy fabric of their clothes.

You can only sit there, purely astonished by their..confession? Yuki’s stumbling around the table, tripping over their shoes and falling onto your chest. You raise the half empty glass in time, a near catastrophe of staining red you’d have to explain to the boys. You maneuver around them, setting your glass in the table and grabbing their shoulders. “Yuki, Yuki, what are you doing?”

Yuki slides down onto the floor with a thump, grabbing onto the fabric of your shirt. “Hehe..I like it when you say my name..” they rub their cheek on your knee, sitting on folded legs below you. “I want you to be my master, too. I wanna- I wanna,” Yuki curls their fingers around the bend of your knee, looking up at you so pitifully. “Make me yours, we-we can do a human contract- I can be a pet just like them-“

“Yuki-“

“I can be better, I swear,”

“Yuki-!”

“I love you, master—“

“YUKI!”

You grab them by the shoulders and shake them. Yuki whines, grabbing onto your wrists and sitting up. Their blurry eyes finally look fully into yours, their glasses smudged and crooked. Then, like they’ve finally come to, their face blooms beet red and they stumble back, bumping into every piece of furniture in the process.

“Oh my god, oh my god,”

“It’s ok, calm down,”

“I-I have to go!”

Yuki clambers up, slipping on their shoes and rushing out the door of the lounge and into the faded sound of the club. You have no doubt they’ve bumped into either Asmo or Mammon in their haste, the faint voices like a warbling whisper in your ear. You’re left alone in the lounge, smelling of wine and Yuki’s sweet cologne, left with the memory of what the fuck just happened?

[creativeashproductions]

When Fate Intervenes // Luke Patterson

IN WHICH: Fate intervenes with a trio of musicians on the night that was supposed to be legendary. Fate puts the reader with a special ability that may or may not be able to save them. Fate puts a clairvoyant, an accidentally upsized pizza and thirteen year old oddly obsessed with a rock band.

Warnings: Swearing, food poison, death, and fluff

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Time to get rid of some fic ideas from my TOO LONG of a list. It’s Julie fault, she keeps encouraging each fic idea I tell her.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The Orpheum, 1995

The line up comprised of countless girls wearing homemade band shirts for the new band performing. Your little sister, at thirteen years old, had pleaded for weeks if not three months to go watch it. It was odd since she was more in the pop scene than the rock music. Your parents would never let her go to the rock show at night, so it was you or no show. It took a promise of doing your chores for an entire month and her dessert for two months. That was why you stood beside Harper among the fangirls while you clicked through the camera you’d saved up for years.

“I’m so excited.” Harper buzzed dancing on your feet as the time on her watch dwindled down more and more.

Your eyes flitted from the screen to the ball of energy you called your little sister, “I can tell. Which one do you have a crush on?”

“Reggie. He’s the bassist and so fucking-sorry freaking cool.” Harper gushed, “A good portion of the fans are obsessed with the lead singer Luke. Bobby is the rhythm guitarist, and he’s a ladies man, but he’s sweet about it.”

“And you’d know that how?” You questioned letting go of the camera around your neck. Your e/c eyes meeting her matching pair of irises; well yours were a bit more vibrant.

“I just know.” Harper retorted before beaming as she roughly poked the pin she’d made herself, “This represents all of them. Red for Reggie’s plaid shirt he always has, orange for Bobby’s love of oranges, yellow for Luke’s energy and pink for Alex because he loves the colour!”

The pin had their band design with Sunset Curve on it with the words outlined with a sunset made up of red, orange, yellow and pink just as Harper had pointed out. By far, it was her best work, but that was expected from an art student at Los Feliz High School. An art school for artists and performers. You attended for photography and creative writing just as Harper attended for art.

“That might be your best work Harps.” You complimented your little sister who shivered in the cool night breeze. You didn’t even think about tugging off your warm jacket to place on her shoulders.

You’d rather be cold than your little sister no matter how much you fought with each other, the Y/L/N siblings had each other’s backs no matter what.

“Thanks.” Harper murmured, leaning closer, “So do I meet Reggie?”

Your eyes widened slightly at her subtle goading to a part of your life was cinematic. It was a piece of you that very few people knew about, only your parents and Harper. Like most of the women in your paternal lineage, you carried the ability to foresee events in the future. A clairvoyant.

“Harper!” You scolded the young teenager who blatantly was just over-excited to see the band she’d been talking about constantly.

Harper’s cheeks turned a cherry blossom pink under the crappy lighting from the marquee sign. Even in the light, you noticed the changes in her face as she matured into a young woman, her cheeks while still full didn’t have that baby cheek look now. You saw a stubborn zit that you could see under the makeup that didn’t entirely match her skin tone. It caused an ache in your heart to know that soon she’d have the experience of heartbreak.

“Sorry!”

“You told me these guys are my age. Need I remind you that you are thirteen? If anyone older than thirteen makes an advance I’ll put my softball skills to the test.” You sternly informed the shorter girl with the pout that screamed rebellion, “Just be a kid Harps.”

“Like you said Y/N, I’m thirteen. I’m not a kid anymore.” Harper dropped the attitude to adopt a more mature soft tone. You could see the tinge of sadness in her eyes at losing the part of life where it was easy.

“I know. I can wish you’ll stay that annoying little kindergartener that stole my clothing.” You chuckled, “You’ll always be the Stephanie to my DJ.”

The two Y/L/N siblings momentarily glanced around before hugging as quickly as possible, they still had reputations to uphold. Had you been actually paying attention, you and Harper would have noticed the commotion from the people behind you.

As you and Harper had the sweet moment, the very band performing had raced out the alley into the street. What brought you back to the surroundings was the pizza boy delivering the pizza box to you. 

“Wait, we ordered a small!” You exclaimed finding the boy holding an extra-large pizza. You only received a shrug in response with the right change given back. 

Two things happened with this food mistake, you didn’t have to pay more than what you actually ordered, and you still got the larger pizza. However, the Orpheum didn’t allow outside food, meaning you’d have to force-feed yourself all the pizza or trash more than half. 

“We could shar-” Harper was cut off as a blinding white light became your focal point. Harper knew what was happening by the specific groan coming from your lips.

A nauseating scent of cheap meat, gas and chemicals flooded your sense of smell in the dingy alleyway. It was nighttime with a few people in the general vicinity with a dilapidated table and mismatched chairs on the walls’ edge. A poorly made sign with Sam & Ella’s and going by the vendor selling the hot dogs the name fit. Sam & Ella sounded like salmonella.

From a distance, you couldn’t quite hear the conversation between three male teens, but you had a bad feeling. They all migrated to a ratty couch that had been better days, a rat wouldn’t even crawl on it you swore.

The first boy had slicked back hair with rosy cheeks you dubbed innocent and cute that juxtapositioned his rocker attire. He had polished black leather shoes, pleather if his choice of food was an indication, a leather jacket and a red plaid shirt around his waist. His attention focused on the two guys beside him. In the middle, the boy had the blue hood of his sweater pulled over his messy brown hair as if hiding. Nothing stood out about him, and it seemed like that was intentional. On the other side, the last one was the tallest with his blonde hair hidden by the backwards black hat. A distressed dark grey jean jacket open to proudly display his pink hoodie. Each one wearing black pants and adorning rings.

“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing the Orpheum!” The middle boy joyfully spoke head in the clouds instead of the questionable surroundings. He arguably had the loveliest smile you had ever seen, and his friends had nice smiles at that as well.

Yet even if this hadn’t taken place, however, it still felt like you were intruding on something incredibly private, “Why am I being shown this?”

Your question went unsurprisingly unanswered.

“I can’t even count how many bands have played here! And then ended up being huge!” He happily sunk into the back of the couch, thinking of all the bands he had CDs to in his room, “We’re gonna be legends!”

“Oh.” You breathed as you caught a whiff from the boys that quickly gave you the understanding of why you saw this. You could only smell what you had dubbed as death, the scent unchanging from the first time you’d encountered it.

The death stench accompanied a clairvoyant vision if the object of your vision was sick or about to die. The first time you encountered, it was a vision of two cars colliding, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal, the scent of burning flesh overpowering the milder stench. The next morning school was cancelled after a teacher died in a car accident on the way to work.

“Eat up, boys. ’Cause after tonight, everything changes.” The only vocal one continued with his two friends silently listening. The trio toasted their food together.

“No!” You exclaimed as each boy took a bite. You held your breath, hoping that the inevitable in the vision wouldn’t occur.

Unfortunately, it was right away the warning appeared. The blonde one the most affected, “That’s a new flavour.”

“Chill, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The leather jacket guy proudly spoke, the least one concerned. 

Even the guy in the middle was concerned but ultimately continued eating.

“Stop it!” You shouted, but it was no use. As with every vision, you had the potential to stop it from coming true, but while in the vision, you couldn’t interact with the people or surrounding. No matter how much you wanted to slam the food out of their hands.

But one thing sends shivers down your spine. The one in the middle made direct eye contact with you. Something that had never happened before nor to any previous clairvoyants. He kept eye contact as he slowly grew sicker and sicker.

The three boys had no chance as the ambulance rushed to the alleyway to save them. The paramedics weren’t as quick as the vendors who’d already packed and fled to protect their own hides.

You watched as the paramedics did everything in their power to save the young teenagers with everything possible. Just like Luke sang in their last song, the boys felt the darker version of an electric hammer to the heart. The clocks freezing in place as they each took their last breathe in the oddest of deaths. You saw the blonde guy die painfully first before followed by the formerly hooded one, the terrified cries of the last one haunting your phantom ears.

How did three healthy teenagers die on the same night of the exact nature within minutes of each other without one surviving? Maybe it had something to do with the hot dogs chilling in the liquid that was a cesspool of bacteria compounded with tained condiments from battery acid.

You roughly came out of the vision shaking and pale-faced frantically scanning the surroundings. Harper had a grip on the extra large pizza box while the other tightly held yours to ground you in the present.

“Are you okay?” Harper softly questioned with the panic hidden inside her body. Harper knew that this vision had been one of the bad ones. The haunted look in your eyes hinting towards death in the near future.

“We need to go.” You frantically replied, grabbing the pizza that would hopefully have a hand in saving three hopeful teens.

Your gym teacher would be proud of the distance diminished and speed you kept towards the area that would further shatter you. Foreseeing death and sometimes unable to stop it always had a nasty impact on you. 

“Where are we going?” Harper yelled, “We’ll miss the doors opening!”

“We’ll miss them if we don’t hurry up!” You shouted back at the disgruntled little sister but at the moment that didn’t matter. 

What mattered was three hungry teenagers about to gorge themselves on death dogs if you didn’t make it in time. It appeared for the first time you’d actually manage to stop the deaths, unlike the previous three times. 

“-tonight. Everything changes.” The chill-inducing rasp helped navigate you to the disgusting couch. Your cold hand slammed the hotdog from the blonde’s hand, the shocked reaction halting the other two.

“Don’t...eat...it.” You heaved bending over at the waist to catch your breath. Wheezing sounded from your little sister as the running and seeing her favourite band up close settled.

“Excuse me! I paid for that hotdog!”

“You’d be buying yourself death literally. Your dreams of playing the Orpheum would be extinct.” You sighed, chugging the water from the pocket of Harper’s backpack for a few seconds before the owner took it back.

“Okay, look I don’t know how you found us but-”

“You don’t have to believe me ’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have but don’t jeopardize your dreams. Look my little sister wanted to see your show so I brought her and we ordered a pizza. They fucked up the order by giving us an extra-large pizza. We’ll barely eat a quarter of it, and the venue is strict on the rules.” You rambled using tour hands to elaborate the story before Harper roughly elbowed your ribs, “Ow!”

“Oops.” Harper faked a sugar-sweet smile for your benefit as the interaction with the three musicians slowly dove into embarrassment.

“-sorry. You’d be doing us a favour by not wasting our money and food. What do you say?” You hesitantly asked the trio who didn’t speak vocally; their eyes meeting in a silent conversation.

Reggie sighed as he begrudgingly dropped his hotdog in the bin near the couch, “Pizza outranks street dogs even if the dogs are heaven and to die for.”

“Literally.” You grumbled forcefully pushing the obscenely large pizza box into the middle one’s stomach, “I’m Y/N, this is my little sister Harper.”

“Hi.” Harper shyly waved with cheeks turning a dust pink concealed by the dark of the alleyway. The boys’ lips all quirked at the sudden contrast from the confident sister slamming her elbow in you to the bashful teen.

“I’m Luke. This is Reggie and Alex.” The hooded one, Luke, introduced his bandmates as best he could with his hands occupied by the pizza box.

Without the threat of death by the hot dog, you actually took the time to look at Luke with appraising eyes. His eyes were like oceans of blues, greens and even a brown that both exhilarated you; the desire of studying them not surprising. His smile outshone the sun on the hottest day in August.

“Nice to meet you.” You informed the trio with a beaming smile that matched your starstruck little sister. The interaction gave you the opportunity for immense and untiring future teasing on the teen that daydreamed of the bassist. 

You had to admit the trio were incredibly attractive.

“Come back to the dressing room. We can eat there out of the cold.” Alex courteously invited the two formerly strangers. His blues sharing his pure intentions to repay you for saving their lives and offering pizza. 

“Of course.” Harper nodded her head with her eyes barely meeting the ones of the boys. The shell was broken when Reggie piped up.

“That’s a really cool pin! Where’d you find it?”

Gated Community, Los Angeles, 2002

An off-tune humming filled the modestly sized home in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California with the sound of water splashing. Doing the dishes was a mindless chore that typically didn’t bother you, but the pain in your lower back protested. You’d have used the dishwasher, but the thing was perpetually breaking down. Didn’t seen essential to replace when washing dishes by hand was just as productive.

Or it was when you didn’t have the extra weight in your midsection, a symbol of your love with your husband. In fact, you would have avoided doing dishes if you hadn’t just used the last clean plate and glass at breakfast plus Luke hadn’t been home in the previous week.

Sunset Curve had gone on a press tour for the upcoming album and tour planned for next year.

“Oof.” You moaned as the little rascal once more hit your bladder, “Are you breaking electric guitars in there?”

“Not a soccer player?”

“With you as their father? Not likely.” You snorted as the sudden appearance of Luke became clear. You hadn’t been expecting him, “I missed you. We missed you.”

As had it since you first told him Luke’s warm hand came to rest on the front of your swollen belly. In a short month, you’d be cradling the newest member of the Patterson family with Luke singing the lullaby he solely made for baby P.

“Still haven’t given in?” The lead guitarist teased you with a beaming smile splitting his face, “Go sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. 

“I’m not abusing my clairvoyance to foresee our child’s gender, name and appearance.” You pointed one finger in his direction, “I refused Bobby’s pleading to see which models he would bed. The only time I did something like that was to reassure Alex that he would fall in love with a lovely guy.”

Luke’s heart burst with sheer adoration at how easily you had sunk into the friendship with the band after that one night. A night that had given birth to a friendship that slowly evolved into a romance and marriage. To this day, the group got together as much as possible.

“I love you.” Luke chuckled, “Even-”

“-if I came into your life like a completely crazy person?”

“We’re all a little crazy.”

Your house surely would be when a little tornado with Luke’s energy took over the home you’d made with Luke. The very home you would have more children and grow old together until soon you held your grandkids on your laps.

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[smallerinfinities]

something missing | feysand oneshot

a/n: oh hello! idk this just kind of....happened? it came upon me unexpectedly. I’m rereading ACOFAS and it’s snowing outside so...here’s some sugar-coated fluff laced with filth for this sinday :)

warnings: 3.3k of fluffy smut and smutty fluff

Hmmm. Feyre worried the paint brush stuck between her lips with her teeth. There was something missing from the painting. Frost and Starlight, she had called it in her mind walking through the Palace of Thread and Jewels that day before Solstice. Now, weeks later, she clung to the buzz of the early chill of winter, wanted to remember the bustling life that had turned scarce in the city. 

It was now bitterly cold—according to Mor, colder than it had been in Velaris in decades. The streets were mostly empty, quiet except for the bundled shuffling of people coming and going but rarely standing for too long. Feyre could hear the wind beating at the locked gallery door, could feel the cold pushing against the magic of her floating flames. The only thing keeping her from freezing to death in the dimming light of the Rainbow. 

Even the Rainbow had been less alive lately, artists only leaving their studios for occasional supplies. The musicians had taken to giving little salon concerts. Only the most desperate had remained busking outside. Feyre had persuaded Rhys into magicking some coins into their open instrument cases, enough to keep them out of the cold for awhile.

She shook her head and refocused on the swirls of color in front of her, the painting that might have been finished if she weren’t so set on the details of it. What’s missing?

I don’t know, but I know what I’m missing. Feyre smiled involuntarily, his purr down the bond snaking its way down her spine. 

Incorrigible. Where have you been? If you went someplace warm without me, I’m staying at the gallery and you can sleep alone in our cold bed with none of what you’ve been missing. 

Rhys chuckled. On the contrary, my love. I was in the Steppes with Az, settling a few more of the descenters down. I’ve been freezing my balls off all day. 

Feyre shivered just thinking about how cold the war camps must be, the rows of tents barely standing up to the winds. But she couldn’t resist the door he’d left open. Poor Illyrian baby, so afraid of losing something important to a little cold spell.

He sent a rude gesture down the bond and Feyre smirked, taking the paint brush from her mouth to shove into the messy bun on top of her head. She paused halfway when her mating ring caught one of the faelights behind her, setting the brilliant sapphire glittering. Ah, that’s what’s missing. 

She dipped her brush in a tiny bit of white paint and leaned into the canvas, dabbing little specks here and there, in every window in her frozen Palace. When she sat back, the effect set her eyes sparkling. The blues and reds and greens of her scene turned into glittering sapphires and rubies and emeralds. The jewels the Palace was famous for leaped off the canvas and twinkled behind the glass, worthy of the astonishment she had painted in the faces walking past.

Beautiful, he breathed, seeing the painting through her eyes. Lately, she had been leaving her mind open to him when she painted. He didn’t pry often, but she found she wanted to share a little of her process with him. Even if she couldn’t talk about some of her feelings, some of the things they left in the darkness, she could show him here in the quiet of the gallery at night. 

Feyre felt him before even the shadows could react to his winnowing. Rhys grazed the skin at the edge of her sweater, just below her neck. Shivers ran down her spine again, but not because of the cold. Her nipples hardened in response to his touch, a kindling warming low in her abdomen. 

“Hello, Feyre darling.” 

His solid presence relaxed her, the warmth of him radiating into her back. She exhaled and leaned into him as his hands left her neck to wander down her front, skillfully avoiding the hardened peaks that reached for him. Even with the stool, he still towered over her, giving him enough room to rest his chin on top of that messy bun. 

“Gods, I missed you,” he inhaled, breathing her scent, now eternally mixed with paint, “the Illyrians are such bastards when they’re being obstinate.” 

“What did you and Az have to do?” Feyre ran soothing fingers up and down his arms still covered in Illyrian leathers. 

“Nothing too taxing, just some strong words and a demonstration.” She could feel him tense up, even as his wandering hands caressed her sides, trying to find the hem of her sweater. 

“Did you kill anyone?” Such a casual question, but even with the veil of sarcasm he knew she would want a serious answer. 

“No, but let’s just say a couple of their captains won’t be flying anytime soon.” He let some of the tension he always carried after bad days melt away as he curved into her, moving to pepper her neck with sloppy kisses. 

“Rhys,” she moaned, combing her fingers through his hair that was still damp from the Illyrian snow. “Let me clean up and then you can ravish me at home all you like.”

His teeth grazed her earlobe and she bent her head sideways giving him more room. Just as his fingers finally found that hem of her sweater. Snow-cold fingers tickled the skin just above her leggings. Feyre yelped and twisted on her stool, finally turning to face him fully. His eyes were pure violet fire, taking in every inch of her, from her wild hair to her booted feet. His chest raised and lowered quicker with each passing second, the bulge in his pants evidence of his mirrored desire. She bit her lip. And he snapped. 

Fuck the house, he purred down the bond. His mouth collided with hers as strong hands lifted her from the stool. She wrapped her legs around his waist, careful to avoid his sensitive wings. His pouty lips devoured hers, a wild moan escaping him as he tugged at her bottom lip. Feyre could sense him reaching with his magic, trying to find some place to put her down so he could properly have his way with her. Out here it would be the wall between the hung paintings or the cold floor. She knew he was weighing those two options. 

There’s a table in the back room, she panted, clawing at his mental walls with the promise of what was to come. If she was honest, she wouldn’t have minded the wall, but the paintings were precious and she knew they wouldn’t be hanging for very long. He carried her, his mouth still firmly pressed against hers. She shifted her head and opened fully for him, inviting him into her mouth with a flick of her tongue against his. He tasted like citrus kissed with the bitter tang of whiskey, left over from the drink he’d had to take the edge off the demonstration earlier. 

When he kicked open the back room door, Feyre’s floating firelight followed them, immediately stoking and warming the space. 

You’re getting better at that. His praise was like gasoline on that kindling inside of her, kicking up a blazing fire that sang through her blood, through her bones. He deposited her on the worktable, only taking a second to notice the sharp scent of paint and the supplies that littered the space behind her. His lips curled, this reminds me of the cabin. Remember how messy it was?

“It was our mating,” she answered out loud, “I remember every second of that day.” I can still feel it here, Feyre took his hand and guided it under her sweater to press against her panting heart. He stepped closer to rest his brow against hers, dragging a finger down her cheek. It was a second before his soft smile went devilish, another second before she felt the wet streak where his finger had been. 

He wiggled a cerulean-tipped finger at her. 

“Rhysand!” 

He tipped his head back and roared with laughter as she slapped at his leather-clad chest. The closest jar to her was a cotton candy pink. She snapped her fingers and his leathers disappeared, leaving a perfectly sculpted tan chest for her to draw a big heart on with her fingers. 

Hmpf. Turnabout is fair play. The playful gleam in his eye sparkled as he snapped his fingers and her clothes just...disappeared. She quirked an eyebrow, I hope you’re giving those back before we leave. A low growl rumbled beneath her fingers still toying with his chest. 

I’ll take it under advisement. You might have to beg me. A wry smile formed on his lips as he dipped that same cerulean finger into the pink paint and swirled it between her breasts, a trail of purple from her throat to her belly button. Feyre exhaled heavily and leaned back on her hands, scattering some charcoal pencils. They echoed in the cold space when they clattered to the floor but she didn’t care. She was naked and Rhys was not. Her legs spread a little wider against the edge of the table, putting herself on display for him. 

“Wicked, beautiful creature.” His hot breath ricocheted off her chest where his paint marks were quickly drying. It was a struggle to keep from moaning at the touch of his fingers toying with the inside of her spread thighs, dangerously close to the liquid fire pooling between her legs. He grinned at her restraint, the muscles dancing beneath her skin. “What do you wish of me, High Lady?” 

“I wish…” she tilted her head back in a slow roll, “I wish…” When her eyes met his again, their intensity burned anew. “I wish for you to take me like you did that first time,” snapping her fingers to rid him of the last of his clothes, “no holding back.”

His knees shook like a newborn foal at the command in her words. He kneeled before her on those tattoos he’d had as a reminder for centuries. I will bow before no one and nothing but my crown. The crown he shared with her. He bowed now, as he had before, as he would many, many more times before they were through with this life. The most powerful High Lord in history sent to his knees by his Queen. 

He forced her thighs even wider to accommodate his broad shoulders between her knees. His Fae eyesight didn’t miss the way her stomach muscles clenched as he played with the sensitive skin at her hips, his fingers making a slow path to her spread thighs. He cupped the back of her knees and quickly pulled her closer to his waiting mouth. 

Her yelp turned to a deep moan when he finally tasted her. Fingers immediately weaved into his hair as her back arched off the table. Gods, you taste like honey. You’re so wet for me, Feyre. 

She didn’t have any coherent words to send back to him, just waves of pleasure licking down the mental bridge between them. He suckled at her folds, drank from her, his holy font atop his only sacred altar. She writhed beneath his fingers moving over her warmed skin, let out a groan so deep he felt it vibrate against his face when he found her peaked nipples swollen and screaming for him. He felt her toes curl against his back, stroking his wings in places that made him moan into her. 

It was the last swirl of his tongue, a figure-eight pattern from her entrance to that bundle of nerves at the apex of her folds that finally sent her chanting his name over the edge. She wasn’t sure if it was out loud, but she knew he heard her either way. His wings flared proudly, knocking over a row of easels propped against the side wall, but he couldn’t hear the noise over her heartbeat pounding across the bond. 

The force of her climax pushed her into a sitting position, her fingers still curled in his hair holding his head against her as he stroked his tongue with every wave of pleasure. Even when she was spent, her thighs trembling over his shoulders, she couldn’t neglect him. Her fingers combed through his hair and snaked down his back, busying themselves with the grooves of his wings as he sucked a mark into the inside of her thigh. She made to release him, allow him off his knees, but he growled. 

Don’t stop.

The corners of her mouth curled upward. Is it truly like stroking you...elsewhere?

Well, Feyre darling, how do you feel when I stroke that one spot near the base of your left wing?

She clenched her thighs around his head at the thought. Point taken. 

He stretched his wing in encouragement. She followed his lead, splaying her hands across the membranous skin, tracing his scars. The feeling was, well he couldn’t quite think straight. Pleasure was too tame a word to describe the white-hot fire that licked his wings every time she ran her fingers over the spines, the scars, the muscles that purred and loosened for her. She pressed in at the space between the primary spine and the muscles in his back. He moaned so loud the paint jars rippled. 

Mother above, stop. 

It’s poor form to blaspheme in such a compromising position. Feyre grinned like a cat about to pounce on its prey. This was what she had been waiting for.

Feyre Cauldron-Blessed would know. He sucked in a breath. Her hands hadn’t moved. If you don’t stop, I’m going to spill a different kind of paint on this floor and ruin all our fun. 

Such a messy Illyrian brute. But she let him go, let him rise from between her thighs and stand. He was at full attention, wings spread wide to prolong the feeling of her fingers on the sensitive skin. Even now, after almost a year with him, she still marveled that this thing between them was real. That she was his and he was hers. My mate. 

She reached for him again, low. It was his turn to chant her name. 

Rhys caught her wrists, turning her hands over. He pressed a kiss to each palm. I’m plenty primed, my love. 

Feyre wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him closer, so close to where she wanted him. She knew he liked this position, liked to watch her respond to him. He gripped her hips and positioned himself right at the precipice, took a breath. And pushed in to the hilt. 

Their collective moans shook the little back room, shadows gathering against the walls. Rhys’s eyes were fathomless pools of violet, boring into her very soul. He opened his mind fully to her and saw herself through his eyes, felt the love and the unending desire for her, tasted herself on his tongue. 

I love you. His voice clanged through her, flipping that light switch that lived deep inside of her, that little piece of Day linked to moments of pure joy. Her skin began to glow, only growing brighter when he moved within her. Slow strokes at first, deep inside. Shadows began to lick at her light, snaking against her responsive skin, the contrast only making her shine brighter. 

His thrusts quickened, control flickering with his hips. The hands that gripped her were little more than wisps of darkness, but she could feel his claws lengthening. Feyre reached back to grip the table, but instead knocked over a full jar of paint, splashing green into her hair, onto her skin. 

She laughed, tightening around him. The snarl he released shook her very center, pummeling the dam that he was determined to break for a second time tonight. She sent paint flying through the air on a breeze, landing squarely on his chest like a bullseye on a dart board. Her giggle sent his shadows skittering. 

Laughing at a male in the throes of pleasure is unbecoming of a High Lady, he panted down the bond. 

And how would you know? There’s never been a High Lady before me. Her eyes threatened another laugh until he hauled her leg off the table and shifted his hips. Her eyes rolled back. The floating fire around them surged with her answering moans, sweat beading on both of their brows. 

His hips stuttered. He was close. Feyre reached out and ran a hand down the open gates of his mind. Rhysand, she purred. 

He looked at her, his pupils narrowing, that beast of his barely concealed in this place between pleasure and chaos. His thoughts were a rush, his senses too open to hold on to any particular thought for long. The only thing she could make out other than pure sensation in his mind was one repeated word. 

Feyre, Feyre, Feyre—

Her name. Over and over again. His tether to this world, to the light. 

Rhys. She brushed at the claws on her hips, catching his attention. Come with me. 

The roar was deafening. Anyone else would have been terrified, but all Feyre could do was launch herself over the cliff with him as he finally plunged headfirst into his own pleasure. Blazing light flashed. Her light. Her joy, covering Rhys’s darkness with her own body as he collapsed into her, panting heavily against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, calming the tremors that rolled through him. 

For a few moments the only sounds in the room were the crackling of Feyre’s dying fire lights and their ragged breathing. When Rhys could finally lift himself onto his hands, he just looked at her for a long moment. 

Thought for a thought? she wiped at the sweat dripping from his temples. 

He smirked at her, I was thinking that if I didn’t already know what it feels like to die, I would think you were trying to fuck me to death. 

Her answering laugh shook her whole body, down to the place where he was still sheathed inside her. Rhys hissed, slowly withdrawing. He watched her glow dim. It always did when they parted, a fact that made him equal parts proud and melancholy. She sat up and stretched, cocking her head as he snapped his fingers to clean them off enough to get to the bath at home, leaving only the paint behind. He always liked to scrub that off of her himself.

“I’m going to have to come in early to clean up,” she worried at her lip, surveying all the spilled paint. The room was a bit of a wreck. Tumbled easels, green and blue paint dripping from the table onto the floor, scattered pieces of drawing paper with distinct details from his mate’s naked body outlined in pink and purple. Rhys scoffed and snapped again, setting everything right. 

Feyre grumbled, “you still need to teach me how you do that.” 

“I promise I will, but I’m still waiting for my thought,” he said, as he snapped a third time. Her clothes reappeared in a neat pile. They both dressed as she formed the words in her mind. Words to convey the way her pulse ticked up every morning in the shade of his wing, the way her cheeks pinked with the faintest touch of his fingers on her skin. 

“Will it be like this always? Will I still want to rip the leathers off of you in a thousand years?” He walked over and took her hands, the movement of his sleek black sweater and trousers the only sound in the room. Warmth passed between them, through their clasped hands and the look he gave her. Like a thousand years was only the beginning of their forever. 

“I hope so, Feyre. I really hope so.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and winnowed them both home. 

fin.

[7spaceace7]

Ego Holiday Headcanons

Haven’t decided if I’ll make more after this, but here’s some festive headcanons for the Septic boys! (tagging as Yuletube for my submission for the past two missed days, hope that’s alright!)

Henrik Von Schneeplestein

-The host of the Septic Ego Holiday Celebration (est. 2017)

-STRESSED

-If he wasn’t stressed enough by being a doctor (and parent lmao), HE IS NOW

-Getting all the egos together for the holidays and making sure they DON’T kill each other?? Someone give this man an award

-Everyone keeping their limbs would be his only Christmas wish

-He does not get said Christmas wish (see: Robbie)

-Switches up his black coffee for coffee with peppermint creamer

-Chase eventually hooks him on peppermint tea instead, he knows the Doc needs sleep

-Can be found humming along to the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy as he cooks holiday dinner

-Definitely has a “kiss the cook” apron

-Chase crossed out the “the” on it with “zhe” in sharpie

-Day 5, Schneep still hasn’t noticed

-Loves it, but still wears his doctor coat on top of it

-Gets very cold easily, so the fire is always burning

-Has a nutcracker collection

-It’s getting out of hand

Chase Brody

-Holidays are,,, hard for him

-Still sends his kids cards and presents, never actually knowing if they get them or not

-They do, I promise

-Wasn’t originally keen on celebrating with everyone, he has a tendency to self-isolate

-But once he gets there, he’s glad he did

-IMMEDIATELY tackled in a hug from Jackie

-”YOU’RE HERE!! Couldn’t start without you, dude!”

-Everyone else smiles and gives the appropriate hug

-(Anti does not, but no eye roll this time at least)

-Absolutely loves warm apple cider and has a good recipe to make his own

-Favorite Christmas movie is Elf, no I do not take criticism

-Has a soft spot for Mickey’s Once Upon A Christmas though because of his kids

-Holiday puns, you CANNOT get this man to shut up with the puns

- “Where’s Anti?” “Up to SNOW good! There’s SNOW way we can REIN him in now!”

-Once it snows, this boy is sledding down every hill in SIGHT

-Teaches Robbie how to catch snowflakes on his tongue

-Marvin makes him a “World’s Best Dad” sweater

-He totally cries and does not take it off the rest of the season

Jackieboy Man

-Christmas is his favorite holiday

-Good luck getting him to sit still around this time

-Has super strength, so he doesn’t quite have the same “don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself” factor that everyone else does??

-Nearly giving Henrik a heart attack everytime he moves, but make it Festive™

-”Guys it’s snowing!!” “JACKIE GET ZHE FAHK OFF ZHE RAILING”

-Slides down the stairs anyway

-Marvin made him a whole ass “ugly supersuit” instead of just a sweater

-It is a w f u l, but on purpose

-Ofc Jackie adores the shit out of it

-Loves snowball fights!

-Always gets targeted by Anti tho

-Eventually it turns into a snowball war

-Pulls Chase over to tag team him, then discovers Marvin has an alliance with Anti

-They will be here a while

-Time to break out the reindeer-themed boxers

-They go along perfectly with his red and blue sweater-suit

-Eventually able to settle down when it gets dark out, bonus points if there’s hot chocolate involved (courtesy of JJ)

-Don’t forget the marshmallows

-Wants to help everybody out with their plans, always does his best

-Even if his best includes falling off a roof

Marvin the Magnificent

-Made everyone sweaters, even Anti

-Spent too much time on the design parts to make em perfect, so he had to rush getting them all sewn

-Uses his magic to sew like three at once

-December 1st, 12:00am is when the Christmas music starts

-Mariah Carey impressions that slowly get higher as the month goes on

-Performs a “Let It Go” rendition that could rival Idina’s during christmas karaoke night

-Switches his regular mask for his holiday one with snowflakes instead of card suits on it

-The decorating master, with JJ as his apprentice

-Favorite part is designing for the lights outside

-Learned a spell to make it look like it’s snowing inside

-Forgot to learn the spell to make it stop snowing inside

-Ended up just sticking with those paper snowflakes dangling on the ceiling

-Asks Jackie for help with the lights on the roof, not because he can’t easily do it himself, he just knows that Jackie likes to help and this is the one thing he knows he can’t break

-Did not expect Jackie to break himself by falling off the roof instead

-Ends up finishing the lights with his magic anyway (after he untangles his boyfriend from the lights, that is)

-Can and will destroy Jackie during snowball fights just because he can

Jameson Jackson

-THIS BOY oh this boy

-Brings out the classic holiday music and sets it up on the gramophone

-LOVES making up dances to the music

-May be a classic boy, but his guilty pleasure is Michael Buble

-(Robbie calls him bubbles whenever he comes on)

-Goes ALL OUT with the holiday baking

-Cookies of all kinds, homemade gingerbread for the houses, so many pies, even learns how to bake his own bread

-Everyone agrees that his pumpkin bread is the best

-Anti especially loves the cherry pie for “aesthetic purposes”

-Has a whole “Twas the Night Before Christmas” puppet show routine

-His job is making the decorations while Marvin sets them all up, it’s a great dynamic

-Definitely makes those traditional popcorn garlands for the tree

-for some reason puts an orange in his stocking?? The others are confused, but he’s so excited so they just let him do his thing

-Now everyone has oranges in their stockings

-They still don’t know what it means

Antisepticeye

-Die Hard is a Christmas movie, dammit!

- “Grinch Bitch” is what his sweater from Marvin says

-Secretly likes it, but fuck off

-Wears it to sleep every night in Winter

-You know that thing where cats get under Christmas trees and swat at the ornaments? Yeah that’s him

-Loves the white elephant gift game

-Ends up getting a present and it’s a turtle

-His name is knives

-KING OF SNOWBALL FIGHTS

-Fills his snowballs with fake blood so they explode on people

- (at least we hope its fake)

-If it doesn’t snow enough, he is the bitch who throws water balloons instead

-Henrik still has work leading up to Christmas, so Anti listens to him rant when he gets home

-Christmas patients are fuckin crazy and he loves it

-One time fell asleep and woke up with a red nose and antlers

-Chase was never safe after that

-Kept the antlers though, they jingle

-Saved them all from Chase’s puns that day

- “Where’s Anti?” *distant, staticky jingling* “Ah there he is”

Robbie the Zombie

-LIGHTS...pretty lights…

-He loves the lights, and will try to eat them if you’re not careful

-Says they’re static candy

-Doesn’t get cold because he can’t feel it, so he often wanders around in the snow

-One time he came home without his left foot and Schneep nearly had a heart attack

-Turns out it froze in the snow and snapped off his leg

-The Great Foot Search Party of 2020

-Please don’t forget to bundle this boy up before going out

-Anti has knitted him a hat and scarf for just this reason

-Henrik was the Proudest Dad that day

-Totally gets to put the star on the Christmas tree every year

-Marvin levitates him high enough

-Favorite holiday movie is The Polar Express

-One time JJ came out with his signature hot cocoa during the movie scene and Robbie was THRILLED

-Talking almost knocked him over thrilled

-Tries to sing along to holiday music, the lyrics don’t work out much

-Really good at keeping a beat though

-Marvin made him a sweater with bells on it

-Adores the bells, flaps the too long sleeves to make them jingle

Shawn Flynn

-Likes Christmas, but like lowkey

-He’s a toymaker!!! He makes adorable toys for all the egos as their presents from him!!

-Didn’t really have a family to go back to in his days at Joey Drew Studios, so he was used to spending Christmas alone, usually working

-NOT ANYMORE!

-Now he has Too Much Family (but in the good way)

-Absolutely gets nicknamed Scrooge at first, probably because he really likes A Christmas Carol and he’s a grump

-Often can be found being pulled off to dance by the gramophone with JJ

-He’s got two left feet, but JJ doesn’t really care

-If anyone still believes in Santa, even just a little bit, it’s because of him

-Has a giant red sack that he fills up with toys he’s made and/or the ones no one could sell back at the studios and donates them to orphanages

-Usually sticks to his old timey clothes, but when he does wear modern Christmas attire like the sweaters, he has,,,no idea how to match things

-It’s ‘cause he’s red/green colorblind

-once asked why Marvin had “yellow” hair

-JJ makes sure that his decorations have lots of blues so it’s not so much strain on his eyes

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

36. Angel

prompt used - Lifting the other one up | fluff | mentions of f*cking | to @drarry-is-my-therapy because she's an angel and it's her birthday. Happy Birthday love.

The drowning sun reflected over the stagnant waters, making it glow in red and yellow, the soft breeze humming in their ears as they Walked barefoot with their shoes in their hands intensely conversing about the movie they had watched a week ago. It was in a faint hesitation harry spoke up to the silver boy glowing in golden.

" think we should try to recreate that scene where he picks the girl up in the air, for fun "

" oh yes, golden boy, as if it's that easy "

" it seemed easy" harry shrugged.

Draco contemplated for a moment, he would be lying to himself if he said that he didn't wanted to try it out but it seemed far too risky

" it wasn't "

And yet somehow harry with his amazing pursuing skills had convinced draco to recreate that specific dance scene from dirty dancing.

" I can't believe you're making me do this " draco shook his head as his rubbed his palms together as if he was getting ready.

" just run alright, I'll catch you. Just trust me " harry motioned his hands in a gesture to indicate draco to run towards him

" that's the problem, I trust you too much " and with that Draco ran forward towards Harry and just when it came for harry to catch him, he stepped aside, making him fall on face over the beach sand.

" what the fuck was that for?" Draco looked up from the ground at harry

" I'm sorry, I just got scared. It suddenly seemed scary, I'm sorry , fuck I should've said something-"

" damn right you should've said something " draco groaned, half wet from falling over the sand and his hair covered in sand itself.

" I'm sorry, I really am " harry nervously said as draco flipped so he was facing harry

" you bloody idiot " draco grimaced

" sorry " harry pressed his lips in a thin line and offered his hand for draco to take, which obviously in his pride he didn't take and swatted Harry's hand away.

"fuck " and just in the moment harry immediately grabbed onto draco's waist and helped him stand

" are you alright ?" Harry asked concerned

" I think- I sprained my ankle you dimwit " draco grimaced in pain

" let's get you to hospital" and with that harry grabbed all his thing's and apparated them to a muggle hospital nearby.

" well, whatever happened, the sprain is a bit more severe, not that it's a fracture but it will take a few days to recover. So try not to walk too much and apply these ointments " the doctor with spectacles said

Draco shot harry a threatening glare before thanking the doctor and leaving with harry.

" I said I'm sorry " harry rolled his eyes at Draco, taking away the bag of ointments from him and his jacket too, leaving draco to carry nothing

" that doesn't change this sprain harry " draco rolled his eyes. Just as they stepped outside the doors of the clinic, draco winced.

" maybe we shouldn't apparate. I wouldn't want you to have any splinching " harry suggested

" I can't walk " draco responded.

" well, there's not much option-"

" carry me " draco smuggly said as if he was waiting to say this for a long time

" what?" Harry questioned, somewhat shocked at such a proposal

" yes carry me. It will compensate for you causing this injury and we'll go home too. It's not that far anyway " draco frowned trying to explain harry how it wasn't such a bad idea.

" I- well it only makes sense though " harry pouted looking at the road ahead, thinking about how far he'd had to go.

" you've not more options. Give me a piggy back ride. I'm sure the flirtatious doctor would appreciate it "

" one,he wasn't flirting with me and second you're very demanding "

" you wanna fight me ?" Draco raised his eyebrows in a threatening way

Harry chuckled " Darling, I think you'd definitely lose. Now hop on" he kneeled onto the ground for draco to cling his arms and legs around him.

" don't drop me " draco said as he finally put his arms around Harry's neck. In a Swift move, harry put his arms under draco's thighs and got up.

" wow, you weigh too much. Draco I think you're getting fat " harry teased as he hopped draco a little to get a good grip then finally started walking

" I have not " draco hit Harry's head Playfully, adjusting his face in Harry's neck, breathing into it

" are you sure, because I think otherwise"

" please I work out. Have you seen yourself ?"

" you mean being fit and having a good physique, thank you very much "

As much as draco wanted to deny that, he didn't because God knows why he had Always adored Harry's body. Well adore is a bit too smooth of a word for saying he had always found himself staring at harry if he ever got a chance. It was so finely carved with all the curves and abs at the right places, the toned muscles, the slightly broad shoulders with perfectly not too much toned arms and a perfect arse. Draco every once in a while allowed himself to gawk like an owl at harry, but never would he ever admit that harry was considerably hot, especially whenever harry wore draco's sweater.

" whatever " draco rolled his eyes hoping he had not blushed.

They talked on their way over, giggling about things, making jokes about each other, discussing celebrity crushes. Harry felt odd with draco breathing on his neck. He had never felt this way before, the way draco's giggles in his ears sounded so soft and his breathing down his neck causing shivers and the smile he'd feel over his neck caused a fluttering effect in his stomach, like butterflies and the way draco just seemed to talk today was so different that harry wondered how had he never admired his voice before, of his hands, or his fingers or his laughter, everything about him but whatever it was, harry enjoyed feeling it. It was new and Harry was a sucker for new things.

Just as they reached draco's flat, harry first helped him get waters, then taking him to his bedroom while harry fetched the ointments he left at the kitchen table top. When harry returned to his room, he only found draco standing with his sprained leg spread out, without a shirt. He did work out, and it seemed pretty hot..

" what ?" Draco asked when he saw harry simply staring at him

"you're fat " Harry lied blushing, keeping the ointments on the bed

" well, thank you harry for thinking I'm hot " Draco smirked, putting on a new shirt. Harry allowed himself to stare at his soft chest, the left part of his chest covered with a phoenix tattoo, the v line disappearing under his pants and his abs glowing softly in the dim room light and the way draco was putting on a shirt, Harry only wondered why ?

But before could notice harry practically lusting over him, he had moved his eyes to the opposite side of the room, much to draco's disappointment.

" well, I'd come back later?" Harry asked

Draco thought for a moment before nodding " you're going to be at that get together at Ron's place, right " harry nodded " right, so pick me up. I don't think I'd be able to drive or apparate till then "

Harry nodded again before telling him when would be come to pick him up and finally going home with such eruptions of feelings he had once felt for Ginny, but something completely different. Harry didn't think much about it.

Over the next few days as harry spent picking up draco and helping him with regular things, he found it hard to resist himself from feeling things for him. Even if so he wanted to ignore them, he'd just find draco fondly looking at him and harry would blush like a flower and simply turn away, inappropriate thoughts rushing into his mind. The truth as harry spent thinking about in night was that, harry might've always liked draco in some way but right now, the way he felt just made him want to do things he could only possibly think of. But having learnt about heartbreak ages ago, he found himself Afraid of such feelings. He promised himself that he wouldn't fall for anyone who was just, ordinary but then again, draco wasn't ordinary.

The night finally came for the get together at Ron's place before he left for a 6 month mission to southern Europe and would not return until it's done. Despite the fact that it was a normal get together, everyone invited for forced not to dress too casual nor too formal, something harry never quite understood. Voila, comes the fashion king into his mind, draco. He had irrevocably amazing fashion sense and nobody could deny that so he picked up a few shirts, pants and jeans and drove to draco's place an hour early.

" you're early " Draco frowned as he opened the door wider for harry to come in

" fashion advice " and without a doubt draco understood what he meant..

They moved into the living room, draco settling down on the couch with harry standing in front of him with a bunch of clothes.

" what the hell not too casual and not too formal Is supposed to mean ?" Harry rolled his eyes as he dropped everything onto the chair.

" well technically it means the event is special but with close people. I have dibs on how maybe he's going to propose Hermione "

" you know what, I thought soo too " harry gossiped

" anyways, I think you should go with a nice pants and a button down shirt " draco suggested

" that's what I'm standing in " harry said with a as a matter of factedly face

" well- that's right. Show me what you got " draco ordered and one by one harry started showing him everything he could bring only for all of it to be rejected by him.

" well, we've run out of clothes " harry said as he looked down at the pile of shirts and pants on the other chair.

" that is true- you know what. I have a shirt for you, I bought it sometime ago but it's a bit lose and you can just pair it up with any of the black pants "

" what are you waiting for then. Show me " harry excitedly said

" well a fractured man can only walk so fast "

" you don't have a fracture "

" but I can take the advantage of saying that " Draco's voice echoed as he walked down the hallway into his bedroom, fetched the shirt and came back.

" I've got to admit you're quite dramatic. I'm pretty sure the sprain is fine by now. It doesn't even have a swelling " harry said as he took the shirt from draco's hands

" what do you know " draco narrowed his eyes at harry before settling down in the couch before harry.

Harry placed the blood red shirt over his chest, frowning at how good it looked

" didn't know you liked red now ?"

" rare occasions. Wear it. I've got to get ready too "

And with that Draco departed into his room to get ready. Harry had just began to put on his shirt when draco walked into the living room asking for something.

" oh " Draco's Throat echoed as he saw harry shirtless

" what ?"

" I didn't know you were- well undressed " draco blushed

" not like you haven't seen me this way before" Harry shrugged putting on the shirt.

Why, god, why, draco's inner voice screamed in lust.

" anyway- which one is better ?" Draco asked still blushing

" both are good draco. You've got a nice dressing sense "

" don't flatter me. I can't wear both, choose one " draco asked again. Harry scanned both the shirts.

" the light blue satin shirt. Makes your skin- eyes look good " harry Blushed.

Draco wondered what the fuck was harry blushing for when he was the one complimented with one of the finest compliments.

" I did not know that " draco said lowly

" well now you do " harry smiled. Draco nodded before walking away, the glimpse of harry rolling his sleeves invading his senses.

After about half an hour, they both were fully dressed and ready to go.

" you look good " harry complimented

" so do you " draco smiled in returned

" shall we ?" Harry as he pointed the door.

When Draco finally nodded, they both departed to Ron's place, realising the get together was at the roof top.

Half-way through the party, harry sensed Draco was probably right and was still finding it hard to not see Draco from all the way across the room. There was no men finer in the entire room other than him and harry hated it as much as he loved it. It was excruciating to find someone so attractive who was your best friend who you had no chance with but the desire to want him was longingly growing inside his chest.. he was so desirable across the entire room, bunched about with a few people, laughing and smiling over something harry couldn't possibly decipher. His thoughts ran in his head like an endless loop until the boy in Harry's desirable dreams saw him and paused his ongoing conversation and made his way towards harry. Caught in the act he tried to busy himself with the bottom of his shirt until the other man cleared his throat.

" oh, didn't see you there draco "

" right, so you were looking at ..."

" pansy. She looks good in that dress "

" Pansy isn't even here harry " draco chuckled, blocking Harry's line of sight.

" oh"

Draco genuinely smiled at harry knowing exactly that he wasn't the only boy caught in the loop of desiring the other.

" so you want to pretend that you weren't looking at me for half the party, not to mention with an admirable gaze " draco smirked crossing his arms in front of him

" that would be nice " harry frowned lightly

" well then I have to pretend that I wasn't checking you out back at the flat almost as admirably as you were " Draco smugly said as he shifted besides harry, standing against the railing..

" as long as we're pretending then I think I'll pretend I didn't check you out a couple of days ago when you were changing " harry replies smiling, almost liking this pretend game.

" okay then, I'll pretend that I haven't checked you out everytime you're shirtless, or everytime you wear one of my sweater or when you ruffle your hair " draco smirked. Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, slightly amused

" then I'll pretend that I didn't enjoy carrying you on mu back a few days ago because I got to be close with you " harry smirked

" then I'll pretend that I don't like being this close to you " draco said as he stepped forward..

" then I'll pretend that I don't have these fluttering feelings for you which seems to invade all my senses "

" I'll pretend that I haven't liked you for almost forever "

" then I'll pretend that I don't want to take you home right now "

" I'll pretend I didn't agree "

______________________________

" I knew you bought that shirt for me " harry lazily smiled as he softly grazed draco's naked arms spread over his chest covered on blankets

" don't flatter yourself potter " draco rolled his eyes as he snuggled further into harry

" fine I won't but doesn't stop me from teasing you about how you let me fuck almost 5 times last night alone " harry grinned cheekily as if it was proud achievement

" If you do it again, you are going to regret it " Draco softly threatened

" well you did let me, not once, not twice, not thrice, not fou- what's the word- four times , five times-"

" you're an asshole " draco rolled his eyes

" well I'd like to be your asshole, if you want me to be ?" Harry asked, worried if he had ruined the conversation by bringing this up.

" if you don't shut up and let me sleep, I won't let you be my asshole but if you do, I'd let you be so much more " draco yawned, tired from all the activities from last night.

Harry chuckled at the lightness of the tone before kissing the top of draco's forehead.

" sweet dreams angel "

And draco hummed, falling fast asleep again in Harry's arm..

Unedited

Day 35 - every inch of you | Day 37- you're my home, draco

[drethanramslay]

A Christmas Miracle

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Leah Garcia)

Word Count: 1650 words

Masterlist

Warnings: None, its fluffy 🥰

Author’s note: Woah its been a while since I have posted and I truly apologize for the lack of content on my side🙈 But here I am, completely in my feels because its Christmas!! Merry Chrysler y’all. I hope you like this fic💓

I have decided to take part in @choicesweeklychallenge​ and the prompt is in bold-  “Merry Christmas, here's your gift.”

I am also taking part in @choicesdecemberchallenge and the prompt is Christmas

Song: I was listening to 80′s/ 90′s Christmas songs so you can do that as well

"Leah?"

Ethan's deep voice reverberated down the hallway as he placed his car keys in the funky bowl he had mixed feelings about.

"It will add some colour to our bare house, E." She had said as she patted his arm but all Ethan wanted to do was throw the abomination into the bay.

It was one of Leah's impulsive purchases in the local flea market which Ethan absolutely hated. While the vendor said it was some form of abstract art, it looked like a mangled kidney. At one point it may resemble a bowl but right now, the neon colours just made Ethan's head ache and itch to trash it.

It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?

"Ethan? I am in the living room." Her lovely voice floated towards him as he hung his coat on the hook and sighed as the warmth of the central heating engulfed him in a bubble of warmth and comfort.

Leah was busy setting up the moderate-sized Christmas tree they had near the gigantic windows through which moonlight poured in. The in-built fireplace was raring with a lovely fire, which cast dancing shadows all around their house- a comfortable and large place with plenty of sunshine and tranquility. It was located a little further away from the hustle and bustle of the city but at the same time, it was a mere ten-minute drive to the hospital.

Ethan found the house adequately decorated and was a perfectly acceptable accommodation but according to Leah, it was dull and in dire need of life. But sadly, the long strenuous shifts at the hospital didn’t give them much time to paint the walls or add Leah’s collection of trinkets.

But it has just been six months since we have shifted. I could always take her to IKEA during the three days off for Christmas.

As he walked in and took his beanie and gloves, he noticed that she was wearing his sweater and socks, which caused his lips to twitch with an amused smile.

"You stole my socks this time?"

She turned around and shot him an innocent shrug, an impish smile on her lips. "They are so much more comfier than mine."

He shook his head as he placed his messenger bag in its place. "At the rate you are stealing my clothes, I won't have anything to wear."

She answered without turning towards him. “You say it like it is a bad thing.”

Ethan rolled his eyes and replied, sarcasm lacing his baritone voice. “You would enjoy that, won’t you?”

She turned and placed a hand on her hip and shifted her weight to her right leg. “I take this no clothes policy at home very seriously. You should start doing that soon my dearest husband.”

He chuckled lowly as he headed towards his wife.

His wife... He still couldn't get over the immense joy he felt when he addressed her that. The day when she said yes to be his, was one of the best days of his life. It was not a very big ceremony, only close friends and family had been invited. It was a mesmerizing, joyous and magical day which he could never forget.

The sheer contentment he felt when he looked at the gold band on his ring finger was a reminder of how their souls were intertwined forever and there was nothing which could compare to the rush of emotions he felt.

He placed his large hands on her waist and turned her towards him. She complied and looked up. A radiant smile made its way on her face which caused an onslaught of butterflies in the pit of his stomach. There won't be a day when he won't feel those butterflies when she smiled at him that way.

He reached to cup her warm cheek causing her to involuntarily shiver. "You are cold Ethan," She chattered.

"Care to warm me up?" He asked with a sly smirk playing on his lips.

Immediately Leah lifted to her tiptoes and Ethan bent down so that their lips could meet. It was a sweet kiss of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment.

She pulled back and her hands reached into his brunette locks and combed her fingers through them. "Now that you are here, can you help me with decorating the place?"

"You want to decorate the place? Isn't the tree enough?"

"Just putting on a Christmas tree and slapping some decorations isn't enough! We need to put up stockings, presents under the tree, streamers, candle-"

"Sunshine... That is way too much."

"No, it's not. It's not like we are lacking place in this dry and bare living room-"

"Minimalistic living is an important lifestyle!"

“No, it is a boring lifestyle. I have told you we need to add more colour-”

They bickered back and forth before coming to a compromise which consisted of setting up the tree, the stockings and a few candles here and there.

Ethan grumbled as he placed a red bauble on one of the branches. 90’s Christmas songs were blasting through the speakers to which Leah sang as she hung three stockings above the fireplace with Ethan, Jenner and her names on it. He stepped to the side, out of Leah’s way as she shuffled in with the fairy lights and a gigantic star.

Jenner was in a very merry mood as well. She followed Leah with what seemed as starry eyes, yipping and providing her input every now and then. As Leah wrapped the tree with fairy lights, Ethan stood on the side and watched the entire scene unfold, a smile on his lips.

The way their small family worked together... Made his heart burst with gratitude, happiness and love.

"E, could you help me put the star on top of the tree?"

Ethan was going to follow through but in the last moment, he lifted Leah, causing her to yelp. "Ethan!"

"What? I am helping you."

She shot him a dry look as she placed the star on top. "You think you are very smooth?"

"Only for you, love."

A gentle blush decorated her face as she awkwardly coughed and straightened the invisible wrinkles on his- their sweater.

I should make her flustered more often.

"Uhh… Do you want your gift now? I mean it's already twelve and technically it's Christmas." Leah asked, her eyes glittering like the inky night sky, an undertone of excitement shining like stars.

Ethan cocked an eyebrow, equal parts intrigued and wary. He nodded his head and Leah skipped towards the dining table as if eagerness provided a boost in her step. She reached for a paper bag with snowflakes printed on it and walked back towards Ethan.

“You might want to sit down for this.”

Uncertainty coloured his features as he took his place on the comfortable couch. “Leah… what is going on?”

“Merry Christmas, here's your gift. Open it,” She handed the bag to him and Ethan stuck his hand inside to find his gift. His fingers brushed against a smooth cloth which he clutched and pulled out so that he could scrutinize it better under the bright light of the room.

“Relax my dad is a doctor…” He read it slowly, his heart thundering against his chest, threatening to leap out as the realization set in.

“Sunshine…?” He looked up to see small tears on the edge of Leah’s beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

“Yes.”

“I am going to be a dad?” He asked, disbelief laced as he held the onesie against his chest. He looked at her face then her stomach.

“Yes, Ethan.”

“We are going to be parents?”

Leah chuckled as happy tears slipped down her face. She nodded her head. “Yes, Ethan. We are going to be parents.”

In a split of a second, Leah was pulled into a crushing hug and spun, causing her to laugh and wrap her arms around his neck. “Ethan!!”

“Leah, we are going to be parents.” Ethan whispered to her as he set her down and gazed lovingly into those familiar earthy hues which had come to be his safe place- his home. Leah cupped his cheek. “Yes, E. We would be some bomb ass parents.”

He placed his hand on her lower abdomen, a grin on his face. “I don’t know what that means but I trust it means well. When did you know?”

Leah smiled lovingly and placed her hand over his. “I found out two weeks ago when I had been late for my period. I had a hunch since I had been feeling sicker than usual. I took a blood test and lo and behold.”

“Did you already do the ultrasound?”

“Nope, I was waiting to tell you so that we could go together, tomorrow morning- well technically today-” Leah continued to babble when Ethan interrupted her.

“Leah?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Ethan placed a chaste kiss on her lips, trying to convey all the emotions he was feeling. All the babbling thoughts on Leah’s mind died immediately as his lips engulfed hers in a passionate embrace. He rested his forehead against hers, his arms still around her. “Thank you so much, Leah… I am so blessed to have you and our little creation. I love you.”

“I love you too Ethan. I am so excited to start this new chapter in our lives together. I can’t wait to tell our family and friends.”

“Your dad is going to kill me.”

“Nah, he won’t”

“Well, I would for our daughter.”

“Ethan... we don’t know if it is a girl. For all, we know it could be a boy.”

“It is a fifty-fifty chance and I have a good feeling it is going to be a girl, sunshine. Can’t wait to spoil all my three girls.” Jenner barked in agreeance in the background causing them to laugh.

And for the rest of the night, they celebrated their Christmas miracle in each other’s arms.

I hope you liked it and it certainly was uncharted territory for me to write married AU😅 

Love you all and season’s greetings

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[maybe-its-micheal]

Like an Orange Spark...

/rp /dsmp

Ghostbur watched as Dream, Tommy, and Techno talked. He was sure he had just known what they were discussing, but now the context seemed to slip through his fingers... he was used to the feeling, though, and shrugged it off. He tried for a few minutes to pay attention, but kept forgetting what everyone was talking about, amd decided to do something else. He turned his back to them, and let his eyes wonder across the snowy landscape.

It was really was a lovely day, the leaves of the spruce trees swayed slightly in the chill breeze, leaving shadows dancing on the ground. A few small bushes peaked up over the snow, dotted with red berries, and the sun sat in the center of the cloudless sky. Ghostbur heard a slight rustle from a near by bush, and spotted a hint of blue from behind it.

"Listen, Techno, you owe me. Im calling in that fav-"

"Friend!" Ghostbur yelled, interrupting whatever it was Dream was on about.

Techno's expression, a mix between anger and concern, shifted to pity as he looked over at the ghost. It was odd seeing the man who he'd once fought alongside like this... he was a capable leader, and a dangerous enemy. But that was in another life...

Tommy was tense, and flinched as Dream snapped his head around to glare at Ghostbur. He grumbled something under his breath before turning back to Technoblade. "Look. I dont want to make this a big thing-" Techno put a hand up to interrupt as he gave Dream a serious look. He turned to Ghostbur, handing him a lead.

"Hey, Ghostbur. Me and Tommy need to talk to Dream, but I saw a patch of blue flowers on the other side of the village. How about you take Friend and see if you can find them?" He asked.

"Ok!" He responded excitedly. Blue was his favorite, he was always looking for more. "You guys have fun!"

He tied the lead to Friend and ran his grey fingers through the soft wool. He turned to go, hearing a few hushed sentences as he walked off.

"He shouldn't have to watch something like this," Technoblade whispered.

Dream scoffed. "Not like he'd remember anyway. But now that he's gone, I want Tommy to..."

And the voices trailed off. Wilbur decided to fill the quiet by talking to friend- that always cheered him up! "Today I've been spending lots of time with Technoblade!" he told the sheep. "We brewed a whole bunch of invisibility potions together, it was lovely. You know, I think they may be his favorite kind of potion, he kept going on about how much he wanted to share them with Tommy." He gave a slight chuckle, then stopped walking. He turned around to look back at the group. "Technoblade seems to really like Tommy. I cant imagine why..." he said with a jokey smile, eyes fixed on Tommy. He was a bit hunched over, still looking at the ground. Every so often he looked up, nervously glancing to Dream with big, glossy eyes, and then looking back down. Ghostbur frowned. "Maybe that was a bit mean to say. I was only joking," he clarified to Friend. "Tommy isn't all bad."

Ghostbur turned back around and kept walking. On his way to the village he got to thinking about Tommy... he could be really annoying, there's no denying that, but he also had a lot of good qualities. He remembered when they were first making L'manburg together; those were good times. Tommy had been very brave, then, and determined too. No matter how grim a situation looked he never seemed to be afraid of Dream, he just kept going. Maybe he was just a naive child, but in the end... the details were fuzzy, but Ghostbur was sure that in the end it was Tommy who did something to secure the future of their nation.

In the quiet he couldn't help but overhear some of the conversation taking place back over the hill. Their voices were getting louder, maybe they were all excited about something. A smile dawned on Ghostbur's face- maybe they'd sent him away because they're planning a surprise party! He stopped walking again, and did his best to listen.

"I am not handing him over to-" Techno's voice yelled.

"... control over... give it to me! Him. Give him to me!" Dream responded.

"You've done enough dam..."

"... never should have trusted..."

"I dont want to kill you."

It was hard to keep track of who was saying what, but it didn't sound much like party planning. Ghostbur went back to walking- he could see the wooden roofs of buildings in the distance, which meant he was getting close to the village.

In all the yelling he wondered why he couldn't hear Tommy's voice. Maybe he just hadn't listened hard enough- that was probably it. Being quiet is quite unlike Tommy, Wilbur thought.

"Come on, Techno... favor... my..."

"I dont want... can't betray him agai..."

"...Im sorry."

"Theseus."

Theseus... he wasn't sure why, but that name lit something up in the back of his mind. It was only there for a moment, like a flickering spark. A memory. Phil had told him and Techno about Theseus when they were kids... it was a bedtime story, he thought. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and shut his eyes, trying to focus on it, and see if he could get the spark to come back. Friend looked at him with a tilted head and bah'ed, as if to ask why they stopped walking.

"... can make a deal..."

"Hand him over... want..."

"I'll never fall for..."

"He's just a kid, Dream. He..."

Wilbur could see the spark in his mind- a little glowing dot of orange bouncing around in an infinite void of grey and blue darkness. Then, all at once, the spark lit up, erupting into a flame that filled his entire mind. Ghostbur jumped backwards with surprise, falling into the snow.

His mind took him back to another time; another life, when he was another person. The war was still going on, the first one with Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy. Eret had already betrayed them.

In his mind, he saw Wilbur- himself- no, Wilbur- standing on the banks of a lake back in Dream SMP territory. An oak path stretched over the water like a bridge, and Dream stood to one side, Tommy on the other. They both held a bow and a few arrows.

Fundy and Tubbo were there with him, and so were George and Sapnap. Everyone was deadly silent, except for Wilbur. He was counting, loud and clear, his voice echoing over the scene.

"...in it for me..."

"...give you... ever want..."

"Fine, its a deal."

"...I'm sorry, Tommy..."

"... Theseus... cliff... the person he took refuge f..."

"...faster."

"... seen it coming."

The talk was drowning out the memory... the firelight was flickering, and peices of the scene were covered with grey darkness and splotches of blue again. Ghostbur was desperate to hold on, he held his head in his hands and pushed his eyes shut tight. "No no no no no," he muttered to himself, hoping for it to stay just a few moments longer. Through the fading light he heard his past self reach the number 10 amd stop counting... Tommy and Dream turned around to face eachother.

"Please, Techno, I dont want to go," Ghostbur heard from back in reality. Tommy's voice was breaking through his memory... it was all falling apart.

"Come on, Tommy. Take off the armor, don't make me do this the hard way," Dream replied.

"I dont want to, Techno. Hes going to kill me, please!"

"I'm not going to kill you if you cooperate. Hurry up," Dream barked.

The memory was almost gone. There was no more Fundy, or Sapnap, or oak path. It was only water as a heap of bubbles disturbed the surface. When they cleared Ghostbur could see Tommy struggling in the water. He was about to reach the air again, but then-

An arrow plunged itself through Tommy's heart, killing him instantly, and it all came flooding back.

He was snapped back to present day, and running back to the three. Friend was left behind in the snow. Dream shot Tommy. That was the memory, how Tommy lost his second life. Dream shot him. "You BASTARD!' He shouted at the top of his lungs as he sprinted back the way he came. "You fucking BASTARD!"

Then the darkness started to come back... Ghostbur balled his hand into a fist. Dream let out a yell... and it all went grey.

Next thing he knew, he was seated with Technoblade in the house. He looked around. "Oooh! You're brewing! Are you making invisibility? Thats your favorite potion," he told the pig. Techno looked up.

"No, its... harming." He replied. "I thought- you know since you're undead it would work kind of like skeletons and zombies."

"Aww, it's for me? Thanks! But why would I need to heal?" He paused, feeling a bit cold. There was a draft- maybe a window was opened upstairs.

"Because-" Techno stopped and looked at the ghost. "Do you not remember?"

Ghostbur paused. "Hmmm... well I know Dream came to visit. And then... something about an arrow? No, that wasn't it... I guess I dont really remember. What happened?"

Technoblade sighed, and set the potion down. "Nothing big. Im just glad youre ok."

Ghostbur laughed, "well yeah! It's not like I could die again!" That draft was getting big- he looked down.

"Oh." He said. There was a massive hole in his yellow sweater, but the grey akin underneath was left unharmed. "How did..?"

"Dont worry about it. Phil is already working on making you a new one, too, by the way. It'll be blue."

Ghostbur gasped. "Oh my god!" He exclaimed with a smile, "thats my favorite color!"

Technoblade chuckled. "I know, Ghostbur. I know."

"I should tell Tommy," the ghost decided. "Where is he?"

Techno's face fell. "He... had to leave."

Ghostbur shrugged. "I don't remember that, when?"

"Just a few minutes ago... he went with Dream."

Ghostbur smiled pleasantly. "Thats nice, they really are such good friends."

"Yeah..." Technoblade replied. "Friends."

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (Emma Mathers)

Masterlist Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- tension, again.

When In Paris

The suite at the five star Parisian hotel was far more glamorous than anything Emma had ever experienced, and that was coming after an extensive flight spent on a private jet. The wonder in her eyes was unmatched, and by just looking at her face, Keanu could tell that their trip was her first time traveling in luxury. Something about the twinkle in her eyes made him want to see it more, he wanted to spoil Emma, just so he could hear that, melodic, breathless laugh that she'd emitted when they boarded the private jet, see the way her red painted lips parted in awe when they landed in magnificent Paris and be privy to the way her pretty eyes widened when they entered the suite.

Upon Miranda finding out that a new collaboration with a New York based cosmetic company would have her missing the premiere in Paris, Keanu had found himself breathing a sigh of relief. Partially because he didn't want to spend the trip, and by extension his birthday, tolerating Miranda's constant nitpicking of Emma's methods and the little insults she usually threw the girl's way. But there was another part of him, softer and more cautious about letting its intentions known, that insisted that he was actually relieved because no Miranda meant more time alone with Emma. Keanu knew that he shouldn't have been thinking like that, he was engaged and highly doubted that Matt and Poppy's nanny even returned his not-so-platonic feelings. She was young and would probably be repulsed by the idea of being tied down by a man his age, far less one with young children.

As Keanu settled into his room, the master bedroom right next to the slightly smaller room where the twins would be staying and directly across from Emma's room, he tried to push away the intrusive thoughts, only to be interrupted by none other than the subject of his wandering eyes. "Got a minute?" She smiled shyly, loosely gripping the knob of his ajar door.

"I could spare a few," he grinned brightly despite himself. For her, he'd carve time out of the busiest of schedules.

"Great," Emma blushed, noting the way his gaze roved her form, clad in a snug, white sweater and a simple pair of blue jeans, "The kids, they want to go out. I'd take them on my own, but I've never been here, and I wouldn't want to get lost." Glancing at the floor, she tucked an escaped strand behind her ear, and Keanu didn’t think he could put into words how much he wanted to be the one doing that; his thumb caressing her high cheek bone, her skin soft and warm to touch. “If you don’t have time, then-”

“No,” Keanu dropped the shirt he was holding back into the suitcase, walking around the foot of the king sized bed, collecting his leather jacket and scarf on his way towards Emma. He stopped closer to her than he should have, and with that proximity, she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze, “I have time, we could go for a walk and if I remember correctly there should be a great café about a block away. You’ll like it.”

Stunned, Emma blinked quickly, not expecting Keanu to be so readily on board the idea of going out mere hours after they’d gotten to the hotel. She had started to forget how much fun and how carefree he could be when Miranda wasn’t around and even if she knew that her opinion didn’t really matter in the scheme of things, Emma thought she preferred Keanu when he was alone.

Surprisingly, he led her towards the drawing room with his hand on the center of her back, almost weightless even as comforting warmth emanated from his palm. It was almost as if he wanted to touch her, though he knew he shouldn't.

Calling out to the kids, who came running excitedly, both still dressed to go out, Keanu swiped Emma’s camel coat from off the back of the grey, floral patterned cabriole sofa, helping her into it. His fingers brushed her shoulders through her sweater, electrifying her nerves, and when he absently passed his hands over her arms after it was on, Emma sucked in a breath, restraining herself from leaning into him, “Thank you,” she blushed, hoping he wouldn’t see it.

“Of course,” he hated having to take his hands off her and before he could stop himself, Keanu found himself wondering what it would be like if he were with Emma instead of Miranda, surely, he hadn’t known her for as long, but being with her came naturally, and as he watched her kneeling to get Poppy into her pink, fuzzy, petite coat, closing up the large plastic buttons at the front, Keanu couldn’t deny how purely familial it felt; just her, him and the children. No one moaning about how the children should stay back for the evening, telling Matt that he couldn’t wear blue on blue or making snide remarks in his ear about how the nanny was overstepping when she pecked the kids on their foreheads. Keanu liked it when Emma overstepped, when she cared for his children as if they were her own, when she lightened the mood with a joke told under her breath and when she’d, even if accidentally, showed her concern for his own wellbeing, as if he were more to her than just an employer. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready guys?” Emma turned the question to the twins as she slipped her cell into her nude colored shoulder purse, proceeding to stylishly wrap a floral scarf around her neck, adding a pop of color to her cool toned outfit. When they both nodded vigorously, bouncing in agreement, she offered her hand, giggling when Matt went for it, leaving Poppy with him, “Alright, then let's go, lead the way,” Emma beamed, turning to Keanu.

The café that Keanu had told Emma about was right where he remembered, and they were led to a table quickly by the young hostess; perk of being a celebrity. They were tucked cozily in the corner of the patio dining area, where their scenic surroundings were still visible; orange and yellow leaves peppering the sidewalk after having fallen from trees planted along the edges, while picturesque buildings on the other side of the worn brick street added to the view. A small platter of strawberries and cream macarons as well as orange and chocolate madeleines, along with two hot chocolates were enough to get Matt and Poppy settled for a while, talking and giggling amongst themselves. Emma was sitting across from him, occasionally slipping small forkfuls of French silk pie into her mouth as she drank in the beauty of city, “Do you like it?” Keanu interrupted her thoughts, just as she was setting her latte down, her cherry red lipstick lightly staining the delicate china.

“The coffee, the chocolate or Paris?” She held his gaze, tongue darting out ever so slightly to moisten her lips, just before she brought the silverware to her mouth again, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes. She was so, so beautiful, and Keanu had caught himself staring a few too many times.

Smile still evident, he shifted around a sliver of his moose cake, the plate streaked with pink, white and brown, trying not to fumble on his words. Emma didn’t really make him nervous per say, it was quite the opposite actually, Keanu usually felt a comfort and ease around her that was absent in the company of most others, like she was simply encouraging him to be the best version of himself. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t long to be close to perfection in her eyes; say all the right things at the right times, impress her because even if she didn’t make him feel like he had to, Emma made him feel like she deserved it. “All of it, Paris, the chocolate, the coffee,” he quoted in reverse.

“Its…..perfect,” inhaling, a lone shiver ran through her, and she sipped her latte again, “I’ve actually never been out of the states, so this kind of feels…….magical.” There was a childlike sparkle in her expression, something Keanu hadn’t witnessed in anyone other than children in years, at his age, there weren’t many luxuries that he hadn’t yet experienced, and despite their two years together, Keanu had yet to see anything close to that on Miranda’s face. There was a time, within the first few months of them dating where he’d strove to impress her, going any lengths just so she’d be happy with him, but by the eighth or ninth month, it became a daunting, tiring task, and Miranda didn’t seem to care what he did, as long as it was up to her expensive tastes. Emma though, there was an air about her that made Keanu feel special, like he could give her the smallest thing and she’d just be in awe.

“You’ve never travelled?” Keanu frowned, his kids had been travelling with him since they were a year old, and at that point, he didn’t think they knew a life that didn’t involve leaving their home country at least twice a year.

She nodded, tearing her gaze from across the street and casting it back towards Keanu, “Nope, not out of the states,” embarrassed, Emma drew in a soft breath from the chilly autumn air, “First we couldn’t really afford it, but even when I got older, after my mom got us in a good place, she had to save so I could go the college. I don’t mind though,” straightening her back, Emma regained her quiet confidence, “I’ve got a lot of time for that.”

“You do,” Keanu agreed, bringing his espresso to his lips, blowing on the scaling beverage before taking a long sip, “I mean, one day you’re gonna be a famous designer and you’ll get to go wherever you want.”

Laughing quietly, Emma bent her head shyly, wispy dark strands falling over her face, having escaped from her high ponytail, “I don’t know about that,” she dismissed, “I mean, its gonna take a while before I even cement myself in the L.A. fashion scene, famous…..that’s something else. It’s a nice thought though.”

“Its a great reality too,” tentatively, he reached for her hand laid on the top of the wicker table, squeezing affectionately, before catching himself and reluctantly retracting, “I’ve seen some of what you can do, those dresses your made yourself, that purple tutu you made Pop for her recital last month, you can do this Em. I know it probably doesn't mean a lot coming from me, but I believe in you.”

“I,” she stumbled on her words, astonished by his faith in her, “It actually does mean a lot to me Keanu,” Emma dragged her lower lip through her teeth, and Keanu shifted in his chair, inhaling sharply, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he croaked, trying to slow his breaths. It was amazing how he could go from being wonderstruck by Emma to being turned on in just seconds. She was truly an enigma, one of a kind. “You know,” he huffed, hoping to change the topic and get them talking again to steer his thoughts away from anything too perverse, “This is my favorite, here, try it.” He offered her some of his cake on his fork, encouraging Emma to lean in. So much for going for something more innocent.

Hesitating, Emma eventually leaned over the table, letting Keanu feed her a bit of the cake, moaning in pleasure at its taste. She could easily see why it was his favorite, the raspberry, vanilla and dark chocolate all melded together in her mouth to create a symphony of flavor, each one complimenting the other perfectly as the moose melted on her tongue. “That’s amazing!” And at that, Poppy and Matt started cheering about how they wanted to try it too, their faces lighting up at how delightfully sweet the creamy desert was.

Dragging his lip through his teeth, Keanu chuckled as he looked on at Emma, “You have a little….” he gestured to the corner of his mouth, only laughing louder when Emma missed several times over. “Here,” he grabbed up his napkin, reaching over the table, “Let me,” dapping the corner of her lips, Keanu eyed the way her cheeks reddened and took a chance at carelessly brushing her skin with his thumb, his ragged breath matching hers. “Em…..” Knowing that the right thing would have meant pulling away wasn’t hard knowledge to come by, but knowing how to just be Emma’s friend and boss certainly was.

Her head tilted ever so slightly to the side and Emma’s blinking slowed, roughness of his touch so inviting that she wanted it to last forever. There was something at the tip of her lips, and Keanu yearned to know what it was, perhaps permission for his feelings, indication that she returned them, but alas, their moment was cut in half when Matt spotted a walking balloon vendor across the street, him and his sister protesting loudly, clamoring about how they wanted balloons. Immediately, Keanu pulled away, collecting his bearings and discarding the napkin, as Emma averted her stare, hoping to find anything more interesting. They’d come so close to crossing a line, and Keanu knew that had they kept going, he’d have hell to pay when he returned to L.A.

One Week Later The premiere had fallen exactly on Keanu’s birthday, which was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, him being gone for the day meant that Emma would have enough time to put her plan in action, but on the other, it also meant that by the time Keanu had gotten home, they kids were beat and borderline cranky. Thankfully though, Keanu had returned by half nine and neither Matt nor Poppy had fallen asleep in the cute little semi formal outfits Emma had dressed them in. As he’d walked in, flicking on the lights to illuminate the main room, looking tired and a little more down than she’d been expecting, Emma and the kids yelled excitedly, “Surprise!”

Shocked, Keanu jumped, holding his hand to his chest, speechless for a moment. Though, that, fortunately, didn’t last very long, “What is all this?” Second by second, a wide grin split his lips and his eyes scanned the room, landing on their set up on the coffee table; a layered cake, the one he’d mentioned as his favorite at the café, glasses along with a bottle of cider and a few presents, wrapped in cheerful paper with ribbons and bows adorning the top.

“It’s for you daddy!” Poppy was the first to run up to Keanu, grabbing his leg in a hug, followed only second later by Matt, who did the same. And just as he bent over, taking them into his ready arms, Emma stood from the sofa, not wanting to intrude on their moment, “Happy Birthday!” Kissing his cheek, Poppy, was sure to hug him as tightly as her little arms would allow.

“Happy Birthday daddy,” Matt followed suit, clinging to his father, playing with Keanu’s simple, black skinny tie as he hoisted them both on either side of his lips, “Do you like it? It was all Emma’s idea!”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit,” she admonished lightly when Keanu glanced to her, “I had a couple of excellent co planners,” tentatively, Emma finally approached them, her heels clicking quietly on the cream marble floors, “We just wanted to do something special for you.”

The warmth in his heart was reflected in his expression, and if his arms weren’t so full, he’d definitely lean in to pull Emma in a consuming hug, “Thank you,” it had been a while since anyone put that much effort into his birthday, the older he got, the less he’d want his family to do, and it went without saying that Miranda was never big on getting him anything more than a cushy present. In fact, usually, Keanu would be inclined to spend his birthday with just his children, watching movies with them on the sofa after a take out dinner. The quiet affairs never bothered him, he'd had enough parties and glitzy birthdays in his twenties and thirties, and was wholly ready to continue on with smaller, more intimate ones.

When he set the kids down, Keanu placed a hand on her elbow, still an arm's length away, leaning in to peck her cheek, "This is amazing, I can't tell you how much it means." When Keanu pulled away, despite his efforts not to stare, he found himself doing it anyway, absorbing the way her burnt orange sweater dress hugged every curve perfectly, boasting her legs when the hem cut off mid thigh. Her hair fell in voluminous waves down to the center of Emma’s back, framing her delicate features, and her simple, clean cut make-up accentuated her full lips and dark eyes. “And you,” Keanu stuttered, affectionately squeezed her elbow, “Look beautiful.”

Caught off guard, Emma blinked quickly, her deep burgundy lips moving to form words but never quite making it through any. “Oh!” A wider smile threatened to break through just as the apples of her cheeks unintentionally went red, “Thank you,” she took a step back and Keanu took that as a sign to reluctantly retract his touch. “Uh,” stuttering again, she looked around wildly, not really sure who’d done the initial overstepping but knowing that someone had to put an end to it, “Why don’t we sit? Yeah, you still have to blow out your candles and open your presents.”

“We can’t wait for you to see what we got you daddy!” Poppy jumped excitedly, a few raven strands escaping the braid Emma had put her hair in, falling over her face as she clapped small her hands. Without settling down in the slightest, she grabbed Keanu’s hand, the size of hers almost muted by his larger, rougher one as Poppy pulled her father towards the sofa, urging him to sit before hopping into his lap. Looking on, Emma offered her hand to Matt, leading him to the chair as well, trying not to think of how much she wanted something like that one day. The real deal, not just a pseudo family, where it felt like she was getting paid to play house, but a husband with children of her own who adored her as much as Matt and Poppy did Keanu.

Leaving a healthy, safe distance between them, Emma claimed a spot on the long sofa, chuckling when Matt mirrored his sister and situated himself in her lap, squirming in anticipation. “So,” securing the boy, she wrapped a slender arm around him, gently flattening her palm to his chest so he wouldn’t fall with all the movement he was doing, “What’ll it be birthday boy? Cake or presents first?”

“What do you two think?” Keanu bent forward to look at both his children, laughing softly when they both bounced in their places, cheering that he go with cake first. “Cake it is,” he determined, and soon after, Emma was reaching for the lighter on the table, keeping Matt away from the flame as she lit the tall candles strategically sunken into the cake, among the cluster of raspberries decorating the top. When all five were lit, Emma and the kids sang happy birthday, clapping when he blew out the candles. Afterwards, she cut them each a slice, and between bites, they moved on with presents.

Up first was the one that Emma had helped organize for Matt and Poppy to give him; they had done most of the the work while she’d simply provided guidance and occasionally, assistance. They’d chosen to make their father a picture frame, using popsicle sticks and colorful craft items, and it had turned out wonderfully, the neatly arranged painted, sticks decorated with buttons, cut out shapes made of plastic, and ribbon had a picture of Keanu and the twins on the inside. “I love it!” He hugged them tight, kissing their heads, still staring at his present. Even off to the side, Emma could see the softness in his eyes, the warmth clinging to his features, there wasn’t the slightest bit of untruth when Keanu said he’d loved the gift, and she admired him for it. A celebrity, who could probably buy anything he wanted at any given moment, appreciating a sweet, handmade gift as if the world had been served on a silver platter. “This is the best present ever!” Keanu hugged them again, keeping Matt and Poppy close.

It was only when he’d released them, did Emma present him with her gift, wrapped up in a blue and white polka dot box, held closed by white silk ribbon, “This one is from me,” her shy smile faltered when their hands touched, and she he'd her breath, hoping he’d like it.

Giving the edge of the ribbon a tug, Keanu undid the bow, opening the box. His jaw hung slack in breathless awe, and trying to be as gentle as possible, he reached into the box’s depths, producing an exact replica of the bike he rode to work almost every morning. It had been spray painted in the exact same colors, carried a downsized version of the very same details and even had a tiny license plate with his initials engraved onto it, ���Em…” he gasped, running his fingers over the perfectly mimicked details, “This is….wow,” he huffed a chuckled.

Dragging her lip through her teeth, Emma searched his features, “Do you like it?” She probed nervously.

“Like it?” He glanced up at her, his emotions spilling out in just the way he looked at her, “I love it,” he chuckled louder, “Emma,” Keanu set his gift down on the coffee table, reaching for her bare knee with the hand that wasn’t holding Poppy close, “It’s so thoughtful of you.” The smile brightened his rugged, somewhat tired features as he added, "I love it."

"Great," Emma tried not to look him straight in the eye, knowing if she did, she might be wholly responsible for what happened next. His touch, warm on her thigh, squeezing affectionately, sent shivers up her spine and Emma was caught between wondering how things might have escalated if they were alone and thinking that it was time to pull away. "I'm glad you like it," even if she knew she'd already let his touch linger for far too long, Emma placed her hand over his, and faintly, she heard Keanu's breath hitch as his eyes widened slightly.

They both knew that at that point, their position wasn't unintentional, yet, before either of them could act, they were interrupted by Poppy stretching sleepily, admitting that she was tired. In an instant, whenever they were sharing had been broken, the moment was gone. Leaving them blinking quickly, seemingly emerging from a trance, and prompting them to get the kids ready for bed.

That night, Keanu helped Emma out with bedtime rituals, sticking around during bath time all the way through until they informed him that they wanted Emma to read to them before lights out. It was nearly eleven when she finally emerged from the hallway, shoes clicking softly until she finally decided that they were too much noise, nudging them off with her toes and resuming her small stature. “Hey,” she smiled tightly, calling Keanu’s attention as he stood at the floor to ceiling window, nursing something far stiffer than cider, the glittering lights of illuminated the Eiffel Tower casting a yellow glow on his face, the only thing brightening the room after he’d dimmed the lights.

“Hi,” he grinned widely, the way he always did when Emma walked into the room, “Whiskey?” He offered, moving to the mini bar, ready to get her a drink.

“Sure,” in minutes, Keanu was approaching her, offering Emma the glass he’d gotten, their fingers once again brushing during the hand off. That time, they both just huffed shyly, pretending to ignore it as they approached the window, staring in silence for a while, until Keanu scoffed a chuckle. “What?” Turning to him, Emma observed his profile, wondering if people were even supposed to be made that perfect.

“Its just,” shrugging, Keanu punctuated his words with a brief sip of his drink, not even hissing at its strength, “It’s almost over. Another year gone.” He seemed pensive, his thoughts colliding and confusing him; she’d never seen him in that light and all Emma wanted to do was help.

The alcohol burnt her throat as it slid down, and unlike Keanu, it showed on Emma’s face, though, it created a familiar warmth in her belly, one that she liked; even if she was quickly going to learn that it wasn’t just breaking the autumn chill, but also ebbing away her inhibitions. “You sound disappointed,” and when Keanu didn’t offer a response, she gently pressed, “Are you?”

Shaking his head, Keanu downed the rest of his whiskey, wincing slightly and discarding his glass on the top of a nearby accent chest, slipping his hands into his pockets as he turned to face her. His tie was loosened at the neck and before the twins’ bath, Keanu had discarded his blazer on the chair nearby. He was striking, even when he was close to disheveled. “I don’t know,” the disconcertment echoed in his tone, “Do you ever think that you’re doing the right thing, but then…...there’s one little change, and suddenly it feels like you’re making a huge mistake?”

Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Emma tried to decipher the true meaning behind his words, opting for an analogy when she couldn’t, “When I first started college, I knew exactly what I wanted; I wanted to be a designer,” she smiled wistfully, “And my nana always taught me to go after what I wanted, even if it was silly to everyone else. So I started fashion school, but then the fees started to take a toll on my mom’s finances, and even if I got two part time jobs, it still didn’t save me from starting to sink.” Emma sighed deeply, looking out towards the city again, “The circumstances changed, or maybe I just noticed them for the first time, and suddenly, going to fashion school seemed selfish, like I’d made a terrible decision, a huge mistake. But when I told my nana what I was thinking, she asked me where I saw myself in ten years and……..that’s how I knew I had to stay.”

Knitting his brows, Keanu seemed more perplexed than when they’d started their conversation, “I don’t understand,” his voice was gruff and low and he hung on, waiting for her explanation,

Sighing, Emma’s contemplative soiree softened, “I guess it meant, if you’re sure about something, if you know it’s right in your heart, then even if things get in the way, you’ll find your way back to it. We’re constantly searching for happiness, and what’s right is always so……subjective. But if you know it's right in here,” stepping closer, Emma gently tapped Keanu’s chest, “Then even if it wavers here,” her cool fingers rose to his temple, “You’ll always go back to it.” Like Keanu, Emma finished off her drink, leaning past him to leave her glass next to his, her other hand still on his face, then cupping his cheek.

“What if……” He mulled on his words, letting them rattle around in his mind fitfully before spilling, “What if what makes me happy, and what’s right in here,” he reached out, pressing two fingers to the center of Y/n’s chest, just above her breasts though still where he could feel her heartbeat, “Are two different things?”

A lump had settled in her throat and a minute part of Y/n knew where things were going, while everywhere else screamed that they shouldn’t have gotten there in the first place. Keanu was her boss, her engaged boss. Yet still, she couldn’t find it in herself to tear her hand away from his face, or push him off her. “They’re always the same thing,” sparing the city of love one last glance, Emma shifted her sights to Keanu, stoking the apple of his cheek, marveling at the way he tilted into the softness of her hand and barely noticing the way his hand had slid up to cup her neck. “Maybe you’re confused right now, but they're always the same.”

“I’m so confused right now,” Keanu confessed, closing the final inches of space. They were lost in each other’s stares and at that point, there was probably nothing in the world that could push them apart. With his hand on her neck, she could feel his callouses and his warmth, radiating, doing more than the finest spirits ever could. The cloud of air between them was tainted with the aroma of expensive booze, still clinging to their hot breaths, mingling with the smell of smoked cigarettes and the alluring fragrance of Emma’s perfume. With every exhale, their chests touched, ever so slightly.

“What do you want?” Emma nudged, licking her lips when Keanu’s face drew closer, tilting her head so she’d grant him access, anticipating what would happen next.

“I want…….” He furrowed his brows again, “I want to be happy.”

“Then be happy,” and that was all it took; the final thread snapped and her words were the permission he’d been seeking. And though, all along, Emma sensed it would happen, when Keanu’s lips were finally laid on hers, she was completely and utterly surprised. They started slow, locking and moving in tandem at a most leisurely pace, though as the pair felt each other out, Keanu’s free hand found the dip of Emma’s waist while she clutched a fistful of his shirt, the silky fabric wrinkling in her grasp, the air took on a new heat and their kiss grew steamy. Six months worth of almosts and boiling tension just swirled around them, pressing them together, and when his tongue broke past her lips, sliding over hers, Emma moaned into Keanu’s mouth.

No one had ever tasted like that, like their lips were meant to spar with hers, no hands ever fit so well on her body. Wrapping his tie around her fist, Emma yanked him closer and they stumbled back. By then their longer, passionate kisses were punctuated by shorter, sweeter pecks, and all she wanted was for him to hoist her up into his strong arms and press her against the cold glass.

Then it hit her; the criminality of what they were doing. Miranda already hated her, and she was going to marry Keanu. That make out session alone was putting her job on the line, the job that she so desperately needed. Logic kicked in and without warning, Emma was letting go of Keanu’s tie and pushing him away. He looked just as frayed as she was, and even a little hurt, “We shouldn’t…...this is wrong. We can’t do this,” Her whispered words were more to convince herself, and before Keanu could respond, Emma was apologizing, turning away from him and scuttling out of the room.

“Em,” he tried to call after her, but it was too late, Emma was already gone, and Keanu had a feeling that things had just gotten way more complicated than he could have ever imagine.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

[jinnie-forthe-winnie]

August, 13th, 2023

Jungkook fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

one curse word

This Jungkook Look Is What I Imagine Him Looking Like

Jungkook and Ara, inseparable since they met in the park 12 years ago. Both were playing with their sibling around the park when the ran into each other. The two little kids laughed at each other and started playing together, making their siblings upset.

Since that day the two kids spend all their free time together.

Well that is until Jungkook decided to travel to America to learn dance. The two didn't want to be separated but had to for his dreams. Her heart was broken, Even though she didn't show it when he arrived back months later.

When everything seemed to start to go back to normal until Jungkook left her again to go train in Seoul to become an idol.

The best friends went from seeing each other daily and spending hours of time goofing off to seeing each other once a year with a couple phone calls.

The last time they saw each other it went downhill fast. Jungkook took her on a late night drive around Busan. This lead to them eating Panda Express in the car.

Then out of nowhere Jk leaned over the console and kissed her. Which lead to a makeout with her on his lap.

Afterwards they cuddled in his room at his parents house. He left the next morning and left her confused and alone.

They continued to text as though nothing had happened. Until Jk finally had a break in his schedule after over a year since the last time.

Jahkay 

Hey Ara  I've got a week off and I'm coming home to Busan

I really miss you and I want to see you first

Ara 

Even before your mom?

Jahkay 

Yeah but don't tell her

Ara 

Hmm I think a date to the amusement park would stop me from telling your mom

Jahkay 

Well sounds like a date 😉

Ara 

It doesn't sound nice when you say it 

Jahkay 

Well your not nice ☹️

Ara 

Ouch that stings like a paper cut

Jahkay 

Haha... very funny

Do you still have the spare key under the mat?

Ara 

No, I don't have a mat, or a spare key

Jahkay 

?! Since when

Ara 

I don't live with my parents! I haven't for a whole year now!

Jahkay 

While why haven't you told me

Ara 

Mmhm why haven't you come home

Jahkay

Hey you know I would if I could

Ara 

🤔 sure

Jahkay 

Don't get all upset now, I'm literally just about to leave

Now if you tell me where you live I'll be there soon

Ara 

*Busan Address*

Jahkay 

Thanks bub I'll see you in 4 hours and 23 minutes

Ara 

Kk I'll be waiting in the lobby for you, in 4 hours and 23 minutes from now

*A four hour and 22 minute long time skip*

The timer on Aras phone goes off telling her to go down stairs. She hadn't realized how late he would be getting here when they were texting a 10 o'clock. It is now 2:37 in the morning.

Ara had changed into leggings and old sweater of Jks from the last week they were together in school. Ara has a bunch of Jks old stuff now sitting in her room. Every time she visits Jungkooks parents she ends up getting more. She now has a bag of his hair stuck to her fridge since Mrs Jeon put it there.

Mrs Jeon and Ara mother had been hoping to two would get into a relationship and they weren't hiding it from them, well at least no Ara. Every time Jungkook was mentioned near either they would immediately ask if she'd made her move. Which always was a no.

Her mind wanders as she goes to the elevator not even bothering to lock the door. She taps her foot on the ground as she waits for the elevator. The ding signals her to go inside and she taps the lobby button.

After a quick ride down she enters a completely empty lobby. She sits down and looks at the time, 2:42 am. She groans and keeps her eyes on the glass door.

Eventually a hooded figure comes near the door. There's a bag in one arm and phone in other.

Her phone goes off and she looks down seeing it's from Jk.

Jahkay 

I see you

She smiles and types back.

Ara 

Totally not creepy

She can see his smile on his face while he looks down at his phone. She gets up and heads over to the door pulling it open for him.

"Hey" he says.

"You come back here after weeks and all you say is hey!" She jokes back to him.

He laughs and throws his bag down past her.

"I have fucking missed you so much baby!" Jungkook says wrapping her in his arms and stuffing his hooded head into her shoulder.

Ara face blushes red after hearing him call her baby. She puts her arms around him and gets comfortable in his arms knowing it'll be a while before they let go.

"I've missed you too bun" she says while pulling his hood down to get to his hair.

"You do know I would come home to see you more if I had more time off" he asks her in a saddened voice remembering how she texted him earlier.

"Of course I do Jungkook, it's just I wish I could see you more." She says as her fingers brush through his hair.

"You know if you move to Seoul you could" his says pulling his head back to look into her eyes.

"But I can barely afford this place, how could I afford Seoul." She says smiling thinking he's joking.

"I'd buy us an apartment" he says pulling his baby face that he used to get things from his mom. That face was always serious for him since he didn't know how to be assertive to get his way.

"But I was planning on going to school here too." She says more seriously seeing that his is serious.

"Go to one in Seoul" He says putting his hands on the back of her head.

This causes her face to go back to the red it was earlier. He smiles seeing her face like that.

"You're thinking about it aren't you!" He says with an even bigger smile.

"It's sounds like a good offer, but I don't want to leave my parents for my best friend" she says pulling his arms off her head and turning toward the elevator. She doesn't see the frown on his face about what she called him.

Both parents had been seeing them act this way for years, obviously it was much more innocent when they were younger. But know the tension could be cut with a knife at every welcome home party.

"You're not going to carry it for me?" He quietly yells to her.

"No I'm not, now hurry the elevator is here." She says back to him holding the door for him.

He picks his bag up and rushes into the elevator. The ride is quiet as they ride to the 27th floor. Each had stole looks at each other smiling to them self.

The ding goes and the both move to the door. He moves his bag to his left hand and grabs her right one as they exit the elevator.

"Which way babe" he says trying to get her to blush. Which he succeeds in seeing her face glow again.

"This way bun" she says pointing to the left.

"Why are you so red?" He says nudging her with his shoulder.

"It's hot in here" she says picking up her pace.

"Did I make it hot in here? Cause you know I am smoking hot" he says smirking down at her. She avoids looking at him. Finally they come to her door and she opens it pulls him in. She can hear his bag getting chucked yet again as she shuts she door and locks it.

She turns and sees him not even a foot away from her. "My room is over there can we go there"

"Why, do you have a plan to seduce me there?" He says inching closer.

"No, but it seems you have one now!" She says stepping back to hit the door willingly, hoping for a drama scene to happen.

"Do you want me to have one?" He says cocking an eyebrow up coming closer to her.

"Well if you don't maybe I'll have one to make" she says as flirty as she can for it being nearly 3 in the morning.

"So you wouldn't be mad if I did this?" He says putting his hand beside her head leaning down to her face. They began breathing in each other's warm air.

"Do I seem mad?" She says licking her lips.

"How the hell did we get here?" He says as he runs his lips over her cheek.

"I think it's been a long time coming" she says "I mean we did get married when we were 9 and then again at 11."

"Mmhm how about we get married for real when we're 25?" He says moving his lips to hers, just brushing them over hers.

"Pick a date and I will put it on my calendar babe" she says teasingly making sure the exaggerate her lips movement causing them to lightly kiss.

"August 13th, 2023" he says and then kisses her lips hard. One hand is stuck on the door holding him up as he presses into her, the other wraps around the back of her neck pulling her lips to his.

Her smile is evident as he continues to massage their lips together. The more he feels her smile the more he begins to smile.

The kiss slows down as she starts move her lips against his, moving her hands to his neck. One playing with his hair the other brushing up and down on the back of his neck.

Slowly the two break apart resting their foreheads together. Their eyes lock and smiles grow back into their faces.

"August 13, 2023?" She asks pecking his lips and letting go of him. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and opens the calendar app.

"That's the day" he says returning the peck to her lips.

"Oh no, looks like I'm busy that day, I'm gonna have to ask you to reschedule" she says teasing him.

[husky-twst-and-obeyme]

The Brothers (Plus Un-Datables) when it’s MC’s Birthday

(I’m so sorry i haven’t posted qwq I really wanted tor try and do this on my birthday but i got a certain game and I’ve been attached since then- but I hope you enjoy this!!)

Lucifer

-He knew your birthday ahead of time  -at first, he didn’t want to plan anything special, maybe just a private dinner with some gifts -but you mean more to him then just that  -So he in secrets gets you gifts through the months without anyone noticing  -gets you a present on your birthday every few hours until you are greeted wiht a small hill of presents at the end of the day  -His presents mainly consisted of things that caught your interest , as well as some jewelry to bring out yours eyes 

Mammon

-He wouldn’t know it was your birthday until two days before -He tries to plan things out as best as possible as well as not spending way too much money on you -he knows you worry about his debt, so he tries to get things at a mild price -When the day comes, he wakes you up with a party popper and gives you kisses  -he gives you the presents after breakfast so that you can enjoy them for the rest of the day  -You would slightly question how expensive these looks, which made you worry that he spent too much but you don’t bother him about it  -you guys would finish the day snuggling in bed , nothing sexual, just two dorks in bed , maybe watching a few movies on a laptop

Levi

-He would absolute know when your birthday was coming up -He would want to try and do things he saw in his animes, like going out , doing karaoke, a stereotypical under the cherry blossoms scene, etc etc -it’s more normal than  you think  -he does try to take you out but he clings onto your arm the whole time - You thought it was sweet that he was trying to be a little more outgoing  -the best part is when we took you to a park near a crimson red lake  -You guys sat there for hours, talking about recent animes, manga and such  -his gift was of figures of an anime that interested you and you really appreciated it  -you soon return the favor and kiss him  -he’s immediately red 

Satan

-He was aware of your birthday coming up but he was distracted to remember it right away -he didn’t realize until is it before bed on the day before, you mention that you were excited for your birthday  -then it hit him like a truck  -He freaked out slightly because 1. he would never forget purposely 2. he didn’t have time to plan or get the perfect gift  -so he decided to make you one -he made origami animals, he did better then expected with them   -when he presented them to you , you were filled with excitement! -they were so cute and you noticed how most of them were mainly cats but you didn’t mind, it’s satan after all -he would still feel bad about almost forgetting, so he would shower you with more love than before

 Asmo 

-He was excited, he had already planned the whole and how it would go  -First, perfect breakfast, then afterwards Birthday shopping , and so on -but you immediately knew what the surprise gift was , it’s asmo, what else would you get as a “surprise” -but ...it wasn’t-?? -You were ready for him to pull  a move to lead you into bed but he instead holds out a present  -he eagerly waits for you to open and you thought it was a “toy” but it was a hand knitted sweater  -you could tell it was by the way it was made  -he explained that anything would of been good for you , but he wanted it to be more special than that  -you finished the day sleeping with Asmo in your new sweater , surprisingly with no sex at all -....until morning-

Beel

-Beel planned to make sweets for you but needed to make sure you stayed out of the kitchen  -so he had belphie keep you away from the kitchen until your birthday arrives -it was so hard for him not to eat what he baked but he gave himself motivation by saying “Mc’s kisses are sweeter, Mc’s kisses are sweeter “  to keep his mind off food -Finally when beel present his food gifts, you were so surprised and happy  -but you couldn’t finish it all by yourself , so you offer him some bites  -he tries not to since they were for you but takes you on that offer when his stomach growls  -reguardless though, he did end up with your kisses and he was right , you were sweeter 

Belphie

-you’d think he wouldn’t care but in reality, he just didn’t know what to give you  -he wants it to be good especially since he caused you harm from before  -then he gets the idea to go camping  -when he suggested that on the day of, you gladly accepted , which reliefed him because if you said “no” it would of ruined his plans -When you guys got set up , he did fun things with you , even though he was doing so with low effort , like hiking (at least a little) , animal watching , and such -it gets darker out (it already was but  it gets darker near night ) and you both watch the stars in the sky  -he holds your hand and tells you about each of the stars , telling you that you shine just as beautifully as them  -you soon lay into his embrace and sleep , as he hums rubbing your head as you both sleep peacefully under the glimmering stars 

Diavolo

-He was the most excited for your birthday  -He would make sure that everything was perfect just for you , you are his future Queen (boy or girl or neutral ,you’d be Queen regardless) after all -He firstly showers you in kisses and starts you off with a nice morning bath with him  -he treats you to your favorite breakfast (same for when lunch and dinner arrive) -Before dinner , he lefts you open your presents , they were mainly things like treasure, jewelry, dress/outfits and thing usually for  royalty  -your favorite was the crown he had made for you  -It had your birthstone as the main jewel  -He has a party for you but you stayed close to him for the most part -you were surprised he didn’t dance with you during that but there was a reason behind it  -When the party was over, you headed to your room with him , thinking you’d both go to bed, he opens the balcony and extends a hand toward you for a dance  -you were surprised  by this and his charming smile made you blush  -you accept his offer and danced with him in the moonlight 

Barbatos 

-He would know about your birthday but pretends not to to keep you from expecting a surprise from him  -He mainly bakes sweets for you but he has other gifts that aren’’t entirely food  -on the day of , he surprised you with a morning kiss  -Diavolo allowed him to spend the day with you , if he was allowed to tag along (he wanted to make sure you have a good birthday too )  -You spend time with him doing outdoor activities, like golf or tennis  -Diavolo actually distracted you for a while while Barbatos prepared your gifts  -Diavolo even gave you a small gift, it was a braclet that had a bright green stone and (whatever color matches you ) stone  -”it’s you and Barbatos , set in stone !” -Soon you given your gifts from Barbatos , he knew very well what you wanted and he got everything you wanted at that time  -you finish off by eating sweets together but Diavolo left before that , mainly because he scented romance coming forth  -which was true but all you two was mainly kiss for a bit and maybe a little more

Solomon 

-He didn’t even know it was your birthday today and you got a little salty  -he tries to make it up to you but doing magic spells for you  -you didn’t trust him to since he likes to prank you with his magic at times  -but he made wonderful things out of his magic, like aurora like bunnies jumping through the air or cute aurora bears playing  -it was all so cute and beautiful , that you soften up just a little  -he then treats you to a fine dinner , your favorite place  -You’re glad he’s actually trying his best for you today that it almost didn’t matter  -all you cared about him and were happy with him  -at the end of the day , he kissed your forehead , and a magic seal was on it , it formed a heart  -”now you’ll always have my enteral love~” 

Simeon

-He wasn’t sure how humans did birthdays but he knew it included gifts, so you hand made you his gifts  -the first on was a beaded bracelet that was silver and blue  -then he made you a wool scarf  -and the last one was a charm , he used a little magic for this one -He gave his gifts slowly through the day  -you loved each one , the bracelet was so pretty and you felt so warm with the scarf but you haven’t gotten the last one yet  -It was getting close to the end of the day and you noticed that Simeon was extra cheery  -”hiding something from me ?~” you sneer -He smiles and hands you the charm  -at first , you didn’t see what the big deal was until it floated and glowed  -It gave off such a warm feeling  “now if we’re ever apart, you’ll always have a little bit of me around to protect and comfort you, My sweet Angel~”

(I hope you enjoyed! leave more suggestions for stuff like this!