#i love adding in some whimsical

[artinandwritin]

reading the httyd books might have influenced my writing style and i do not see that as a problem

[junespriince]

I miss the charm and whimsies places used to have before capitalism destroyed it all, monochrome and the sleekness is boring, it's forgettable, can we just stop making boring building and decor choices and live a little again?

[himbodruid]

A Dragon In Rut

What happens when you stumble upon a dragon experiencing rut for the first time?

A short Dragon!Sylus x Reader/you oneshot

Breeding kink | knotting | scent kink

Intended for 18+ readers only MINORS DNI

Read the companion piece here!

Fic Master List

Borrowed some lines from Secret Times 😏

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been some time since you and Sylus became close, even longer since you first met him. Days blended together when the only sense of sunlight you got were from various chutes in the cavern ceilings that allowed for airflow, so you weren't exactly sure how long it had been. The two of you became quite the pair of criminals, and thinking of the previous raid brought a satisfied smile to your face.

Dust motes danced in and out of the sun beams, giving the cavern you declared as your chambers a whimsical feeling. Richly coloured tapestries hung from the walls, adding a sense of warmth and life to your space. The fiend, Sylus, had even offered you treasures from his own hoard to decorate your space with. You had come to love the freedom that this network of caverns offered you. And you found yourself quite fond of the dragon that occupied another set of chambers.

Sylus was usually asleep at times like this, when the sun was high and bright. You found yourself mimicking his sleep schedule out of convenience, but something had awoken you and curiosity had gotten the best of you.

When you left your chamber, however, something in the air shifted. You didn’t know what it was, but it was off. Charged. Your pulse quickened as you sought out Sylus, worrying for his well being in the chaotic atmosphere that interrupted the usual calm.

You found him, not by sight, but by sound in his own chamber. As you brushed the tapestries that covered his doorway aside, a feral snarl reverberated from within.

“Sylus?” You questioned, stopping your advance at the sound.

“Leave,” was all he said, his voice strained and more beast-like than usual.

“Is everything okay?” You hazard a step into the dimly lit room. A hiss and a groan greeted you.

“If you know what’s best for you, Kitten, you will leave right now.” His voice was pained and leaving was the last thing you wanted.

“Are you hurt?” Another step forward.

Then all at once, you found yourself pinned to the wall by his bulk, a growl rumbling from his chest. You caught a glimpse of his face as the light from the entrance was snuffed out by the tapestries. His pupils were dilated and his face flushed, and you furrowed your brows in concern.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, you’re worrying me,” you say, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He made a sound like a barely restrained groan as he turned his face into your touch, inhaling deeply. That fiendish tail of his lashed out behind him, swinging to and fro- much like an agitated cat.

“You shouldn’t be here,” was all he said in reply.

And yet, he leaned into you instead of letting you go. You felt him bury his nose in your neck.

“Your scent…I want it. Steamy and sweet…like cherry wine,” he murmured, his mouth finding your pulse.

“S-Sylus, what..” you stammer, incapable of forming coherent thought thanks to the heat of his tongue rolling so, so sensually against your neck. It was clear that he wasn’t in his right mind, trapped under some spell, but you couldn’t push him away. Instead you wanted, needed him closer.

A sound resembling a purr rumbled from his chest when your hand cupped the back of his head and you tilted your chin up for him. His mouth traveled the expanse of your neck, leaving biting kisses in his wake. Your heart thundered in your chest and an involuntary shiver shuddered through you.

“You should have run away when you had the chance,” he growled, hauling you up against the hard planes of his well-sculpted body. He carried you to a pile of blankets that rested atop a goose-down filled pad.

As he laid you down in his nest, you were consumed by him. That smokey scent of him surrounded you, his body crowded you. All thoughts fled as you were immersed in his very essence. You clung to him, even as his mouth traveled down your body. Taloned hands were surprisingly adept at removing your simple clothing, and the groan he released when you laid bare beneath him went straight to your core.

His hungry gaze roamed your figure, darkening with desire as it finally landed on the apex of your thighs. His nostrils flared, taking in your scent, your arousal.

“Last chance, Kitten.” His crimson eyes found yours again, awaiting your final consent. You hadn’t fought him thus far, but he held himself back once more to give you a chance to run away, to deny him what he so clearly wanted.

But you shook your head, hooking your legs around his hips to keep him from leaving you. He grinned a devilish grin and stooped over you to seal the agreement with a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, wrestling with your own for space. Your moans were met with growls of his own. And when you were beginning to feel light headed, he finally removed himself from you.

“I’ll start with your warmest spot…” he murmured against your skin as he trailed those stinging kisses down your body. “And until I’m finished, you’re not allowed to stop me.”

And then the heat of his mouth overwhelmed your cunt as he plunged his tongue against your flesh. When you tried to squirm from the sensation, his taloned hands held you fast. All you could do was sink your hands into that damnably silky hair of his and announce your pleasure to the room. He worked you up so quickly that you crashed over the edge before you even had a chance to think. His name tumbled from your lips like a prayer, even as his teeth scraped against your inner thigh.

His chuckle was deep and raspy and he lazily reclaimed his spot atop you. You didn’t know when it had occurred, but what little clothing he wore was discarded and the length of him pressed solid against your belly. With one hand occupied by holding your wrists together above your head, he hooked a leg over his free arm and pressed you hard into his bedding. His hips ground against you as that obnoxiously enticing purring sound reverberated through the cavern once more.

“You’re all mine,” he growled into your ear before positioning himself at your entrance. You briefly worried about how in the world a man as large as him would fit into such a petite woman as yourself, but all thoughts and fears fled the moment he breached you.

“S-Sy-“ you whimpered into his mouth as he sought to distract you from any discomfort. His body trembled with the effort of holding back. Breaths came short as he fully sheathed himself into you, his gasping pants feathering at your neck as he fought to give you time to adjust to his girth. Despite the effort, his hips still jerked forward.

“Hell, love. How do you feel this damn good?” He whined against your chest as he dropped his head down. The trembling in his body increased tenfold as his internal war continued.

The deepest, guttural moan escaped from him as soon as you lifted your hips in a silent signal to proceed. That moan turned into a possessive growl as he shifted his hips, pulling and pushing from your oh-so-willing body. You longed to cling to him, but he still held fast to your wrists.

Feeling mischievous, your mouth found his throat and you scraped your teeth against his flesh. He surprised you by baring his neck to you with a moan, and so you bit down on that corded muscle at the slope of his shoulder. The same place he marked you however many days ago.

At that simple action, it was like a damn broke loose. A heated snarl erupted from him and his hips pistoned in and out at a pace that would be punishing if it didn’t feel so fucking good. Your voice rose to join his as his cock brought you to such a swift climax, it had you reeling.

Even as your walls pulsed around him, he didn’t stop. Indeed, it felt like his pace actually sped up as he mindlessly chased a release that seemed to evade him. You felt as though the moment one orgasm was over, he drove you right into another one. His name fell from your lips with reckless abandon and he buried his face into your neck once more.

But this time was different. His movements seemed deliberate, almost as if he was…what? You weren’t sure how to describe his action, but it was almost as if it was some sort of primal instinct to mark you with his scent.

And there was something else happening.

As he drove himself into you over and over again, you could feel something at the base of his cock…almost like some sort of bulge was forming? You weren’t at all familiar with the anatomy of his kind, so you couldn’t be sure what to expect.

“Sylus, what?” You tried to question, your brain unable to form the full question.

“Mine,” he growled. His voice had taken on that feral tone he had once used with you to try and scare you away. He finally released your wrists to loop his arm under your free leg, practically folding you in half while he pumped into you relentlessly. All you could do was cling to him and ride out the pleasure he continued to build.

And then it happened. You weren’t really sure what “it” was, but that strange bulge at the base of his cock all but locked him to you as he thrust hard into you one final time. His moaning cries filled the cavern as he threw his head back and you felt his cock twitch and pulse inside of you, the sensation being enough to push you over the edge again with him.

And you figured that would be the end of it, a beautiful connection with this incredible being.

But his hips remained locked with yours. He nuzzled into your neck, that purring sound emanating from him again. The smallest of thrusts was all the movement he was granted by the knot, but the tugging sensation elicited sparks of pleasure that coursed through you. You whimpered into his ear as you lifted your hips to meet his with each nudge.

Then, almost as if taken over by his instincts once more, his hips whipped forward and he plunged so impossibly deep into you that you didn’t know where he ended and you began. His cock twitched and more hot ropes of cum flooded you while he moaned against your skin. It dragged you into an abrupt climax, almost as if his own orgasm was some sort of switch for yours.

It happened several more times: he would relax his hips for a moment, only to violently thrust forward again and cum so explosively that you couldn’t help but follow him over the edge. But finally, after what felt like ages, that knot appeared to subside.

Sylus slumped against you, placing soft kisses against your skin. You were exhausted from the ordeal, barely awake as he shifted you to the side. You couldn’t even work up the energy to feel embarrassed as he cleaned you up, taking great care to be gentle with you.

Shortly thereafter, you fell into the deepest sleep you ever experienced while wrapped in his warm embrace.

—

That night, after the two of you woke from your shared slumber, Sylus had the good consciousness to blush at the behaviour he exhibited. He laid beside you, head propped up on a hand while the other traced feather-light swirling patterns on your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have never personally experienced a rut before and didn’t have the willpower to send you away.”

You smiled at him, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes. “Is this something that dragons experience?”

“Mmh,” he said, thinking about how to reply in a way you would understand. “It is a mating instinct that all dragons experience, yes. Usually the worst of the urges are able to be subdued enough to still function. But when your scent hit me, it was like I was possessed.”

“And what was the..thing that happened towards the end?” You asked, not sure what to call the strange bulge that kept him locked to your body.

“In your tongue, it would be called a knot. When a dragon finds his mate, that is usually how they are claimed. I…don’t really know how to describe it, since I’ve never experienced it before.”

“Hmm, does that make me your mate, then?”

His gaze softened at your question and that lopsided smile you so loved played across his face. Instead of answering with words, he leaned down and kissed you thoroughly.

“Mmh. I rather enjoy my scent being intertwined with yours.”

[ellecdc]

HIII, I wanted to know if I could request a poly marauders x festy slytherin reader.Something of how they started or whatever you have inspiration for.I would love another part of that, if you feel up to it. Hope you are taking care of yourself <3

feisty/slytherin reader x poly!marauders is actually my favourite thing to write (followed closely by any ship with whimsical reader) so I was more than happy to whip this up for you! Thanks for requesting! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem, Slytherin!reader

p1 // p2 // p3

CW: werewolf prejudice, making fun of possible birth defects due to Pureblood's being terribly inbred, swearing

Remus felt that generally, he was a very understanding person. And not just in a compassionate way, but also in a sense that he just understands a lot of things.

He understands Sirius’ need to defy his family whilst simultaneously looking after his brother as if his life depended on it.

He understands James’ need to make sure everyone around him feels as loved as humanly possible, even if it’s at his own expense. 

He understands that Gryffindor’s hate Slytherin’s, but he also understands that not all Slytherin’s are horrible, prejudiced racists.

He understands everyone makes fun of Hufflepuffs for being soft and emotional, but he also understands that Hufflepuffs can be some of the most heartless, ruthless friends you can have.

What Remus has had a hard time understanding, however, was his boyfriends’ sudden interest in you.

Remus could admit that you were quite attractive, but you were also sort of…terrifying?

“What have you boys done?” Lily murmured in quiet horror (quiet awe if you asked James).

“We pranked Slytherin!” Sirius said jovially, as if Lily had somehow missed that key piece of information. 

“I can see that, Sirius.” She said like one might speak to a small child who was quite dumb. “But on portrait day?”

Sirius smiled smugly as he watched Slytherin’s enter the Great Hall for their school portraits. As they passed through the door, they were unknowingly walking under a charmed mistletoe (which was very difficult to find this time of year, thanks James very much) which turned their green and silver robes and ties to a beautiful red and gold. 

The best part is some students still hadn’t noticed yet, and another amazing part was that those who had noticed couldn’t figure out how to turn it back.

“Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew, and Mr. Lupin. I suppose the four of you have no idea who may be behind this prank?” Professor McGonagall challenged as she looked down her nose at them sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Sirius smirked as he responded “Why, not a clue Minnie. But I’ll keep my eye out and let you know if I see any mischief makers.”

McGonagall let out a long suffering sigh as she took five points from Gryffindor for improper address of a professor. 

“You rotten dugbogs.” Remus heard you screech before he saw you. He had the good sense to cringe as you stormed up to their table whilst Sirius and James grinned enthusiastically. 

“Why hello Y/N, my beautiful angel.” James greeted as Sirius let out a sultry “Don’t you just look smashing in red.” Accompanied by a wink.

“I don’t know what you sods have done, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the rest of them; but you will fix this.” You spat angrily gesturing to your faux Gryffindor uniform.

“But that would be such a crime, dollface.” Sirius lamented.

“You can’t expect us to mess with perfection.” James added.

You shot your hand out and grabbed James’ collar, pulling his face to yours until your noses were nearly touching. 

“I swear to Salazar himself, Potter, if you do not change my robes back, I will cut your dick off and charm it to your forehead so you walk around looking like a limp-dick unicorn. Change. It. Back.”

Your voice was low and threatening, and Peter actually gulped as he hid behind Remus. But looking at James’ face pressed up to yours, you would have thought you had just serenaded him with the greatest love song known to man.

“You have such beautiful eyes.” He murmured in awe. Remus was certain he could see steam forming behind said beautiful eyes, but before it could shoot out of your ears, Sirius came to your rescue.

“Very right, Prongs. She does have beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, I believe her usual green does compliment them better than the red.” Sirius said lasciviously as he cast the counter charm to return your robes to their rightful colour.

You looked down at your form before looking back at the boys skeptically. You seemed only then to realize you were still holding onto James’ collar like a vice and dropped it. Remus almost chuckled at the look of loss that crossed James’ face.

“Right.” You said and cleared your throat, backing away from them as if you weren't fully trusting what just happened. “Thank you.”

Sirius’ head actually reared back in surprise at your thanks and James beamed.

“Anytime angel, truly.” 

James’ pet name seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you’d been in as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Terribly sorry, my love.” He relented.

You groaned in exasperation and carried on towards the Slytherin table.

“Isn’t she lovely?” James whispered in awe, eyes still glued to your form as you bodily shoved Evan Rosier out of what Remus could only assume you had dubbed as your seat at the Slytherin table and sat down. 

“Try bloody terrifying.” Peter shivered in horror as he finally extricated himself from behind Remus. 

“Oi! Don’t talk about our future missus that way, Wormy.” Sirius squawked and swatted at the poor sod with his copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Is he wrong, though?” Remus asked as he let out his own breath of relief.

“Don ‘t worry moons,” James murmured into Remus’ cheek as he pressed his nose into the werewolf’s hair line. “She’ll win you over soon.”

Remus wasn’t so sure.

You were the only Slytherin photographed in proper uniform that day. 

A few weeks later found Remus sitting horrifyingly uncomfortable in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they moved on to the unit featuring Werewolves.

James sat on his right, and though the shaking of his knee under the table gave away his nerves, he spent the entire class rubbing soothing circles along the back of Remus’ hand with his thumb.

Sirius, sitting on Remus’ left, was incredibly stiff and clearly poised to fight if given the chance which did nothing to ease Remus’ discomfort. It also didn’t help that they shared this period with the 6th and 7th year Slytherin’s.

He just wanted this day to be over.

“Why are we even talking about this?” Mulciber sneered, interrupting the professor as they discussed elements of the Wolfsbane potion. 

“What is your question, Mr. Mulciber?” The professor drawled out in a bored tone.

“Why bother discussing werewolves? The lot of them should be culled anyway; euthanize them on site for all I care.” He spat, earning snickers from Avery, Goyle, and Snape. 

Sirius sucked in a breath in preparation of a verbal (and possibly physical, should he be so lucky) spar when Remus dug his nails into Sirius’ thigh. “Please, Pads.” He begged quietly; voice taught with emotions.

Sirius let out a pained sigh and leaned back further into his chair.

“Funny, Mulciber.” A bored tone commented, “I was just thinking the same about you and your lot.”

Remus, James, and Sirius all turned to see the majority of the eyes in the room already on you, though you never bothered lifting your head from your textbook.

“Care to repeat that, L/N?” Mulciber sneered, sitting up in his chair as if ready to lunge at you if necessary.

You lifted your bored gaze from your book and stared at him head on. “Do I need to repeat myself, Mulciber? Mummy and daddy kept it too close in the family tree, huh?” You murmured in faux sympathy. “I was just thinking, most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight ought to be culled. That would save the wizarding world a whole lot of trouble.”

“How dare you compare me to some filthy half-breed. My family is royalty compared to those disgusting creatures.” Avery shouted.

“The only one acting like a disgusting creature here is the likes of you tossers.” You shouted back.

“Alright.” The professor tried (not very hard, albeit) to quell the quickly spiralling discussion.

“I could hardly look at myself in a mirror if I’d been tainted with a curse like lycanthropy.” Snape sneered, pointedly facing the Marauders across the room. Sirius burned with shame and protectiveness, being the reason Snape knew Remus’ secret and the overwhelming need to defend his lover. Remus took that moment to dig his nails into Sirius' thigh again, pinning him to his seat.

“Are you sure, Snape? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live a life with lycanthropy than have to look at that mug of yours in the mirror every day.” You drawled.

“You insolent little bitch.”

“Hey!” James finally shouted from across the room, far more stern than Remus can ever remember seeing the boy. But you carried on, completely undeterred. 

“I’d bet ten thousand galleons that not one werewolf ever asked to be a werewolf, yet you wake up each and every morning actively choosing to be the ugliest, most hateful, vile, disgusting beasts known to mankind. That is what is despicable. That is what should be euthanized on site.” Your voice grew louder and louder with each word until you were standing behind your desk and punctuating each word with a slam of your fist against the table in front of you. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” The professor finally called; tone booming across the lecture hall intoning no nonsense. 

“Mr. Mulciber, Mr. Snape, and Miss. L/N. Detention with me this evening.”

The Slytherin boys all scoffed and cursed under their breath whilst you offered a bored shrug of your shoulders, returning to your textbook as though this was just a run of the mill day for you.

The boys had been absolutely right; you just won over the affections of one Remus John Lupin.  

[jarofstyles]

Cabernet

This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.1k

Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements

-------

Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated. 

Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts. 

“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company. 

Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased. 

“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her. 

It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.

Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous. 

Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy. 

“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead. 

Again, cute.

“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”

“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out. 

“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap. 

“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?” 

“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.

“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.” 

“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”

“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”

There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.

He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.

Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship. 

“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.” 

“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.

“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward. 

“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?” 

Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day. 

Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap. 

“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”

——-

Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night. 

She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim.  “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too?  Fill you from both ends."

“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?

“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."

The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.

"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.

As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.

She had done it. 

“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.

"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."

“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.

"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."

It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.

He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”

Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”

Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him. 

“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting,  but she wanted to hear it.

"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."

Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”

"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”

“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”

"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.

"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.

Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.

As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.

His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.

"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.

His restraint shattered at her words.  "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."

With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.

With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”

“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”

“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.” 

Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.

“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return. 

“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.” 

“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy. 

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”

[beloved-calypso]

・ ° ʚɞ ゜𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 ~ ♡ ・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

♡𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒶𝓁𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓀𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓁𝓎 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝒾𝒸𝓀. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓌𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒾𝓇.” – 𝑅𝒶𝓎𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓇♡

All pictures and gifs are not mine but belong to their original artists. ♡

I. -> II. -> III. -> IIII.

[Note: Hello, everyone! If you didn't guess it, this pac is about how you are viewed by your past, present, and future lovers. This pick a card was originally about 'how' you are as a lover but turned out to be about girl power theme so I went with the flow ~ I have another pick a card coming out soon this week so stay tuned!

Edit 8/18: People of pile 4 please check over your reading again. I added some stuff. Also pile 3 although it wasn't significant. I couldn't help but to keep editing mistakes here and there so apologies if you keep getting notifications of changes for this post 😂.]

~ XOXO 💋🎀

౿૮꒰ྀི The Lyre ๑◞꒱ა

[The Moon, 3 of Cups, The Star]

You are a mystical and overwhelming lover pile 1 😘. You feed people the energy and will they need to feel alive. You're like an aphrodisiac and your lovers like to get high purely off of you. You make people feel like they NEED you. CRAVE you. It's almost like your partner's ache to breathe the air you do, envelope themselves around you, and stay around you all the time because they want to make sure you weren't a figment of their imagination. Some people have thought you walked straight out of their daydreams. They are addicted to your energy and presence and desire so much from you. Don't think of it as people stealing your energy though; your feeding off of theirs too. This is a proverbial yin and yang, a give and take with you holding the scales of power like the effigy of Lady Justice. You're consuming at the same time you're giving. It could claim to be vampiric, but it comes off as dreamy and mysterious. You're moreso like a fairy or sprite enticing someone to follow them in the woods with a beckoning finger and a mischievous smile. Fairy's in early storybooks are mostly tricksters and little devils, but they are so beautiful and enchanting at the same time. There's a reason they cannot escape the human consciousness. You give off the air of springtime, of misty nights at waterfalls and flower strewn glens dappled with dawning sunlight. 🌸

You're a comfort as well as seductress, playing the Madonna when you need to set a lure and revealing the whore once you've sinked your claws into your prey. You're wholesome yet strange, animated yet withdrawn, spontaneous yet quite, the constant swing of a pendulum that pushes and pulls, push and pull, push and pull. You're the exact type who can have anyone and everyone wrapped around their fingers. When you're outside you're a nymph in her natural habitat. When you're indoors you're an enchantress in her home brewing potions and scribbling spells. Both paint a pretty and sensuous picture. You can play the whimsical and silly girl, but you're anything but dumb. While sniffing at that flower you picked up in the meadows you're locked onto your target with discerning eyes, sizing them up like a hawk ready to pluck a mouse from the fields. You're someone who can lure in their target with an innocent face and a flower crown on their hair, speaking honeyed words with opened palms, and when your lover finally settles down next to you, you can embrace and look down upon them with a loving gaze all the while knowing they are hopelessly trapped by you, and they couldn't be more unaware of it. You give them the notion of having power over you, a false sense of comfort you can utilize to take everything you want from of them. It's a perfectly painless process and that's why it works. This is a siren evolved out of water, a woman with the crime of passion trailing behind her like a cape and the undeceptive eyes of a doe. It's giving me Persephone and Hades, a gentle and lively woman able to tame even the darkest and stony of hearts, meaning you can seduce just about anyone!

You're a lover that is exciting and addicting to be around, a drug without the side effects. I think you can be the caring mother men need to be vulnerable, and when they need the heat to turn up, out comes the sultry woman of their dreams. I feel you could be into baking, maybe catering for home events and shoving food in people's mouths as a sign of love (it's also a tactic predators use in the wild to make their target immobilized). I think you like to do anything that relaxes and distresses you, keep in the quiet and just let your mind go into the silence. You are wonderfully sublime, an aromatic mix of shadow and light. You look like you stepped out of a Renaissance painting. I think you like creature comforts, the feel of a soft leathery couch and the low noise of a tv. Other days it's the grass at your back and the wind sweeping over your body that delights you. There's a number of things you want to try and have already done that feeds your spirit of whimsiness. Keep being silly and adventurous. Don't stumble trying to appear as someone you're not. You're open and free and that's what's so enticing about you. It doesn't ward people off as much as you think, rather it just intimidates people that don't have the same confidence as you do to exercise their self-expression. Many people struggle with their identity but you embrace it and the changes that life brings and so you're actually above those that you think you're beneath. You're constantly evolving and constantly at the whim of fate. I would say you're a breath of fresh air to anyone you meet. Never deny your power. This piles energy is very airy, light, and aligned with the sense of smell, which can be just as seductive as touch. Follow the direction of the wind and you'll always be on course for everything you desire. You're meant to wander and ponder. Don't think you're not meeting goal-posts as fast as everyone else. You're just enjoying what lies along the journey rather then the end, and that's a beautiful thing more fulfilling than crossing the finish line. ~

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི The Tiger ๑◞꒱ა

[Ace of Cups, 6 of Swords, Wheel of Fortune]

Hello pile 2, aren't you the busy body. You are so energetic and strong. You have the strength and will of a lioness, a woman mature, self-sufficient, and unstoppable. I see you working yourself to the bone trying to keep a whole house together and not breaking a sweat while doing so. I doubt many work as hard as you do. They may not even measure to your strength of will. I'm getting a vision of Princess Tiana from Princess and the Frog, a Capricorn who was intelligent, diligent, and fearless. You are just like her I'm hearing. You're the glue that holds things together, that makes something new out of two separate things, the source of support that keeps someone afloat and moving. Without you your lovers would sink into the mires of lament and stupidity.

You're a trophy wife that doesn't just sit in the house all day but keeps upgrading the house, from a one-story, to a manor, to a whole estate. You're lovers are forced to match your speed and make something of themselves. You envigorate them with the promises of success. You're like a lucky lady in poker; your lovers can't win without you. You're their real success, the one trophy in their case made out of real gold. They grow with you, build a life with you, take their crudy dreams and turn it into a reality. You have the golden Midas touch. ✨ You're like magic, a Djinn that grants wishes and turns dreams to truth. Sure, in the real world these things take time and work, but they happen. Anything and everything can happen for you, and in extension, to your lovers. Your lovers need you in order to survive, to reach their goals and dreams and feel on top of the world. You're like the blood rushing through their veins in adrenaline on a morning run, the caffeine in their coffee, the motor of their car that never fails, and the bed they come home to and sink in. These things seems mundane but they are all a necessity of life. They signify movement, comfort, and stability. Excitement is fun every now and then but in real life it's not an everyday thing nor is it practical. You're a reminder of what's real and of what reward is past the finish line. You're the mast on a ship, the strings that hold everything together. You have the backbone of metal but you still hold the delicacy of something precious and nurturing. You have a very motherly aura. I feel you can't help but to take care of people. It's in your nature to help and nurture things into growing. You're a catalyst for change, sometimes the broom that swats someone's hiny into action. I see you guzzling coffee and turning into a tornado of movement. I'm also seeing big cats in the wild. Jaguars, panthers, leopards, and tigers, all fierce and spirited animals reflective of the ferocity of women and the power we all hold within. You know, lionesses and other female big cats do most of the work in keeping their species alive. They're protectors, hunters, warriors, and mothers. They do more than their mates and they do it all looking exquisite and beautiful. Everything about them is ingrained into you. Believe that.

Your strength is unparalleled and there's something that's so wild about you, something begging to be free, a intensity and ferociousness that can knock any man down and force them underneath you. I'm seeing leopard prints, blood, and fangs. You need to let that animal in you out every once in a while, take her out for a walk on the town and dom that red lipstick and little black dress you were saving for a special occasion. She's what's been clawing your insides and she will not rest until you let her breathe. I wouldn't be surprised if your partners like riling you up. Your anger is absolutely sexy. When tempers fly they feel a primal rush going on, a need to let your animals meet *wink, wink*. I feel you display both civility and the inner animal brain all of us humans have. It's astonishing how much we suppress ourselves and call our primal natures uncivilized and obsolete. They are not something to do away with, and anyone that says otherwise is lying to themselves. Suppressing our animal instincts teaches suppression and breeds inner deviancy. Releasing our instincts allows our bodies to give you their full capabilities. That's what your lovers see in you: a powerful woman that doesn't lie to herself and embraces her very nature and channels it into creation. That's why you succeed in everything. You're not afraid to get messy and tear a few muscles. You're a wild cat in heels welding a knife with a little blood on her apron. You're a little crazy but that's what makes people equally wild about you. It's sometimes better to be feared than loved, but in your case the things go hand in hand. Fear releases adrenaline and sometimes triggers the horny parts of our brains. Men are scared of you and piss their pants a little, but they kind of like it. Just know that it's ok to be vulnerable and soft once in a while. Just like Tiana, you will have to learn to relax and know it's ok to have days where you do nothing. You're not an incomplete person, and you are far from undesirable, but you're busy-bee nature makes your lovers want to take you by the shoulders and hog-tie you down to a chair. Deep down beneath that impenetrable armor is a woman desiring tenderness and affection, and you need to water her regularly to keep her from wilting. It's not a show of weakness to be vulnerable. I received another perfect metaphor for you, a diamond, strong and beautiful and the King of gems. Remember how diamonds are made; they come from the common material of carbon undergoing extreme pressures and heat to become something priceless and wanted by all. Perfectly descriptive of you. Remember that you are a diamond among gemstones, rare and desirable above all else. ~

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི The Shells and the Vase ๑◞꒱ა

[Ace of Swords, King of Swords, 7 of Pentacles]

With you pile 3, it's do or die. You don't wait for no one nor are you adept at wasting your time with just anyone. You carry yourself as a woman with high value and as though you have a lot to offer, which you most definitely do. You're sexy, but there's also something inside you that adds to this appeal; your intelligence. Your appearance is beautiful too, but we will get into that later. You're sharp witted and unbelievably smart. Your highly praised for your genius and some can see that that is what gives you your unshakeable confidence. I feel you know the nature of people very well and you could be a fantastic conversationalist. People would pay to hear you talk for hours on hours. It's the way you talk, the way your tongue rolls and twitches between your lips that keeps them hanging onto every word you utter. Even the sounds you make are lip-bitingly arousing. Your lovers love the talks you have and they feel they can tell you everything and anything, but they'd rather just cuddle and hear you speak. There's never a dull moment with you and you open their eyes to the Universe. You're a point of discovery and through you people gain invaluable information. You're brilliant, knowledgeable and a master of words, but you're very selective with who you speak too. Not everyone is deserving of your words and sometimes people are so easy you can't help but to play a few mind games with them just to ease the edge of boredom you feel around normies. You may have an intriguing accent, even if it sounds normal to you, there's something about it so refined and soothing. Any of you bilinguals by chance? There's a neat little library in your head full of information that you can pull out when the time is perfect. You know when to turn on the crowd-pleaser and the show-stopper and even the dim-wit when you feel like effing with people. You're immune to caring what others think of you (a superpower if you ask me) and when you're slighted you may think it's funny. A good verbal joust is healthy from time to time, and a fight with words is much more interesting than with fists. I sense a little mean streak within this pile hehehe. Intelligence is so sensual. Ever heard of the phrase intelligence is the ultimate aphrodisiac? It truly is. You have the key to unlock peoples minds and you can do with them as you wish. Physical attraction is great and all but it's temporary and prone to fizzling. Even the most beautiful woman in the world get cheated on and tossed away. It's inward attraction thats the most important.

Once you've grabbed someone's attention then they've figured you must be different from all the ones they've met before and this establishes a want and need to know this person in and out, what makes them tick and chirp all nice and pretty. You know how to keep your lover on you. It's your sexy little mind that has the breath taken out of them. It's a surprising but welcome thing. You're like a present under a Christmas tree, the gift you didn't expect but came out to be better than the one you wanted. No one can one up you and your a bloodhound when it comes to figuring out people. A detective in the streets and a Playboy bunny in the sheets, I heard. You're like a knife that scrapes against skin oh-so deliciously, a selective taste but one you never go back from after savoring. People are a little afraid of you. Your words can cut like you have a tongue with barbed wire at the end of it. It's almost masochistic the way some men try to square up against you. They fall like a tree and you get to bask in the victory without so much as a wood chip clinging on to your dress. Lovers have to chase after you to get piece of you. You're a rich and exquisite prize to many. There's something about you that conjures images of class and poshness. You give me rich girl vibes. It's the way you carry yourself. You're so sure and confident it scares people sometimes. Even if you aren't rich, you look it. You treat yourself like an exclusive, like a corner of a club that won't let just anyone hang there until they've undergone an extensive background check and pass an itemized list. You're beautiful and you act like it. You're like a model walking in the streets of New York with her legs exposed, marching like she's on a mission. Everyone around her can't help but to stop and stare and feel wistful of what they can't have. You're enchanting, intensely desirable, the fruit that Tantalus desires and futilely reaches for every time the branch comes close to his mouth. It's part of a game you play with them. I can see that you laugh at them and their hound dog ways. It pumps your ego and keeps you feeling high. I can see you're the same way in your relationships. You never overvalue a lover over yourself, and you don't change yourself for them either. You're independent and require for your persons to be the same way, or else they get cut quick and loose. It's not that people think you're hard to pin down, but they feel you are so effervescent, easy to lose. Your partners think you're sensational, a whirlwind of passion wrapped up in a ribbon of classiness, similar to the feelings evoked when lapping at champagne, swimming in an infinity pool on top of a sky-rise, or sinking into the buttery leathers of a luxury sofa with a fireplace at your feet.

You feel naughty too, like eating bon bons on a cheat day. Your free spirited and live life so fast it's like men need to chase you with their cars. I can see you have a streak for danger, a love to live life on the edge. Die hard and die fast, but with no regrets. I think you're kooky too, so extra and out there, the type to walk ontop of the raised edges of sidewalks, skinny dip into a strangers pool, and dance on Street lamps like they are a strippers pole, haha. You live life in the moment. You're dangerous yet sophisticated, the type that likes to watch plays and carry theatrical masks 🎭 to be funny, one happy and the other one devilish (not sad). I feel you're insatiable for what the world has to offer. You feel the depth and width of the planet and wish it was yours. You want to learn everything there is to know, experience everything there is to feel, record the world through all of your five senses. You're worldly, a person of many dreams in one. Your lovers feel like they have to walk a tight rope with you, risk hovering over a den of tigers to get to you, but it's all worth it with you on the other side, otherwise they wouldn't be doing it. You give them a rush of youth and adrenaline they can't get from ordinary life. You're not peace, your chaos, and so unique and individual that within you lays a multiverse of once in a lifetime experiences. Keep being unapologetically you. ~

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི The Woman and the Beasts ๑◞꒱ა

[The Fool, Strength, 6 of Cups]

My, my so much yellow came out of this pile. Welcome my little balls of sunshines! You all are as cute as cute can be and absolute cinnamon rolls. At least on first meetings that is. This pile is full of high spirited energy! I feel you glowing with vitality. You seem young and have a childish streak about you, one that propels you high up in the sky on the wings of positive vibrations. Your lovers are addicted to these vibrations. You live in a little bubble of joy and positivity and I have to say I wish I could look at the world this way. Nothing really gets you down, and if it does your quick to pick yourself back up. I feel this is my pile of nature lovers, woman connected to the earth and in high spirits because of it. You like to follow the ebb and flow of life, ride the wavelength so to speak. You may feel out of control over your own destiny, but in a freeing way, like your life is truly yours and no one is in the background pulling your strings. You're like an oasis in a desert, a little spot in the forest to rest in and feel aware of all the other things that live life around you: the birds, the bees, the critters, and the little insects crawling in the ground and over you. Some here may experiment with weed and psychedelics which accounts for your chill, go-lucky attitude and higher spiritual connectivity. I feel this pile is very connected to animals too. You may have adopted a lot of animals or just seem to be a magnet for little forest creatures. You're like a Disney Princess. You radiate kindness and angelic grace and are a woman loved by all creatures that see and know her. Your love for the earth and all its inhabitants pours out of you and creates this beautiful Madonna image. I'm seeing a picture of Mother Mary, serene, beautiful, and otherworldly. It's almost like you are not part of this world. You come off as so delicate and precious, a rarity among a world lost to cynicism and mundanity. Your lovers imagine wrapping themselves up in you like a soft, feathery blanket. You're a source of security to them, a warm balm on their wounds when they fall and get hurt and the ice cream they enjoy afterwards. I feel you love taking care of people. You may play nurse and physically take care of your partners like children, missing their pains and keeping them giggling. You are soft, open and delicious, like a jelly-filled pastries in a bakery!

Everything about you is so refreshing, light and fun. There's an air of innocence that makes you unique, a babydoll made human like like in the Disney movie Life-Size. It's hard to find a light that shines as bright as yours and everyone around you wonders that if they stay near you maybe that light can rub off on them and if not, they are simply satisfied in basking in your glow. You're like a sunflower soaking in sunlight. You connect lovers to their inner child and they cannot get enough of that. With you they can be free and playful, they can release all their worries and learn to enjoy the moment, be a kid again and see life in the pure eyes of a child. You serve as a snapshot to life's most heart-melting moments and once your lovers see things through your eyes, it's like being bathed under a warm, ever-flowing spring. They feel renewed, enlightened, as if they never truly knew sunlight until they met you.

I feel this pile is more spiritually attuned, women that are close to the divine feminine and harness the power of feminity. Your effect is very healing. It kind of reminds me of Fluttershy from My Little Pony. She's warm, kind, and a nature lover, and she uses her powers for the good of others. I feel this pile are participants and donors of good causes, or you wish to be but have yet to take the initiative, but it is only a matter of when. You're an Angel in your own right, a being from high coming to visit the little people down below. There's something about you that's so welcoming and gooey. You're like sunny days spent out on the beach, a twilight where the stars and clouds mingle, and the feeling of being wrapped up in cozy sweaters in Autumn. You remind people that there are things worth saving in this world, that what they can do tomorrow is what they can do today. You're a wellspring of hope, the dream one has in a single night that changes everything. 🌷 Despite all this talk of innocence and rarity, there's a strength to you too, an unyielding stubbornness that only serves to accentuate your womanly wiles. You're always there to help a loved one, and it may go unappreciated because it seems that nothing phases you, when in actuality, you shoulder a lot; you just have an incredible way of keeping yourself untainted. It's almost as if you mop up people's troubles for them. Like a wet sponge to a person's skin, you're cleaning it off and getting their dirt onto you, then emptying the emotional bucket, taking a shower, and going on about your day. Kind of like a sin eater. Ever heard of one of those? Here's an excerpt from Wikipedia so you don't have to search for it: "A sin-eater is a person who consumes a ritual meal in order to spiritually take on the sins of a deceased person. The food was believed to absorb the sins of a recently dead person, thus absolving the soul of the person." Powerful stuff, but I'd be wary of people taking advantage of this. It's easy for people to become codependent on you, and easier for you to become emotionally attached to them. Like cleansing the bad, you sometimes have to cleanse the good too. It's better to take a neutral stance for the health of yourself and others, be the mothering figure but allow for others to make mistakes. You can't walk a person's journey for them, but the support you do give is immeasurable in impact. ~

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

ᴀɴʏ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄɪꜱᴍꜱ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ♡

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ

© lolita-bonita — Please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other social media platforms without my permission. This is the only platform that I post this type of content. If you see my work being posted anywhere else, please kindly report them to me. ♡

⊱┈─ ✧

✨️ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Tarot is not an exact science, nor can it produce factually true information. All things posted are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The future is fluid, and what may happen is based on your choices and actions, not what I and a deck of cards say. You are still the creator of your future. ✨️

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

[cumironi]

STARS AROUND SCARS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you were just trying to draw some stars on your boyfriend, not knowing simple things could be so hard when you have two needy boyfriends.

w/c : 8k (sorry, can't stop myself :'))

warning : lots, and lots of suggestive conversation, horndog! gojo satoru and fluff.

[☆] MASTERLIST

on a crystal-clear evening with the sky a vivid shade of blue, you and gojo satoru were enjoying a rare and cherished day off. the living room was bathed in the gentle, natural light of the setting sun, casting a warm glow over everything.

you were sprawled comfortably on the soft carpet, wearing a casual outfit that perfectly matched the relaxed vibe of the day: a short denim skirt paired with a white crop top, and ankle socks completing the look. gojo lay in front of you, his one arm lying flat as a pillow beneath his head, equally casual in a pair of short blue jeans and white socks, his posture relaxed and at ease.

while you two were savoring this peaceful downtime, your other boyfriend, geto suguru, was hard at work. he was busy attending an important meeting with the jujutsu higher-ups, his mind likely consumed by the demands of his role. it was a stark contrast to your serene afternoon, but you knew how dedicated he was, and it made these moments with gojo even more special.

colorful pens and crayon marks were spread out in vibrant disarray around you. the bright, vivid hues of the art supplies had left their playful imprints on the carpet, creating a whimsical, chaotic pattern that contrasted beautifully with the serene atmosphere of your cozy living room.

“oh, look at you,” you enthusiasly said as you carefully drew tiny stars around gojo's scars on his arm, adding a burst of color. “you’re like a living piece of the blue sky,” you giggled.

gojo chuckled, his lips curving into a charming smile at your words, “ah, so you think i'm a living piece of the sky, huh? well, i can't say i dislike that comparison,” he joked, his eyes watching your every move as you added the final touches with your colorful pens.

his gaze drifted to the colorful art supplies scattered around you, and his smile turned a tad more mischievous. “you're making quite a mess here,” he teased, gesturing to the mess of color covering the carpet, “i wonder what suguru will think when he sees this.”

you can't help but grin at gojo's comment, continuing to scribble playful little stars around his scars. “oh, come on,” you reply with a lighthearted roll of your eyes, “it's not a mess it's. . . creative expression.” you raise an eyebrow at his mention of geto, imagining the slight eye roll you'll get as he walks through the door and sees your vibrant ‘creative expression’ on the carpet.

“he'll probably just shake his head in faux disapproval,” you say with a soft laugh. “but secretly he'll think it's adorable,” imagining the look on suguru's face when he walked in to see the colorful chaos you'd created. “i'm sure he'll love it,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes playfully. “he always appreciates a good splash of color.”

as you continued your whimsical artwork on gojo's arm, he couldn't help but watch you with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “you've got quite the artistic touch there,” he remarked, observing the swirling stars you'd added to his scars. “i'm starting to feel like a canvas.”

you flash him a cheeky grin, “well, you're the perfect blank canvas, with all these little scars.” your fingers move with careful precision as you artfully create tiny spirals and swirls around his scars with your pens. the way his skin was so pale and flawless made the scars stand out even more, creating a unique canvas for your colorful designs.

“and you're being such a good ’canvas’ too,” you chuckle, gently teasing. “no squirming, no complaints.” your eyes dart between the swirls and stars you've created on his arm, admiring your own work. “besides, it's not like you're complaining. you wouldn't be lying here letting me draw on you if you didn't enjoy it, would you?”

gojo chuckled, “you've got a point there. It does feel kind of nice, having a pretty girl like you drawing on me.” he glances down at his arm, observing the colorful designs you've created. “i just hope suguru doesn't get jealous,” he teases, a smirk playing upon his lips, “he might think I'm enjoying this a little too much.”

“but you do enjoy this a little too much,” you look at him for a second before looking down to where his hand lies under your chest— under your breast more likely. giving it a gentle squeeze from here and there since the start.

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as you glanced down, well aware of the hand he had placed under you. “can you blame me, really? i have a stunning woman practically straddling my hand, and she's putting on quite the colorful show on my arm.”

his fingers involuntarily flex against your skin, the warmth seeping through your crop top, sending tingles down your spine. “especially when your hands are on me... touching me in all the right places.”

he gave your breast a light squeeze once again, his thumb slowly tracing a pattern on your skin as he met your eyes, a playful twinkle visible in his. “besides, i doubt you're complaining either, considering the location of your perch. but i swear, baby it's just for the art. completely art-related enjoyment,” he gives you a wink before chuckle.

“shut up!” you swat his hand lightly, trying to hide your embarrassment. “why do you have to say it like that? it sounds so inappropriate!” you then shift slightly, guiding his hand from beneath your chest to rest flat against the carpet, a playful scowl on your face. “just keep it where it belongs, okay?”

gojo chuckles, pretending to pout as you smack his hand away from your chest. “hey, i'm just being honest,” he replies with a smirk. “and besides, you were pretty much lying on my hand.” he lets his hand fall to the side, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, “now that you've moved it, i feel strangely empty,” he making a squeeze gesture with his hand, teasing you once more.

“it was nice having a little something to hold,” he adds, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a mischievous smirk. you roll your eyes at his pitiful expression, aware of his tactics to get what he wants. “don't give me that look," you chide playfully, “you're not getting that hand back, babe.”

yet, you can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the way he talks about wanting to hold something, his voice low and suggestive. “and quit being such a pervert,” you add, trying to mask the way his words affect you.

gojo feigns innocence once again, “me? a pervert? perish the thought,” he teases, the smirk never leaving his lips as he watches the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i just appreciate beautiful things,” he continues, his eyes briefly roaming over your figure. “and you, my dear, are an absolute masterpiece.” his gaze drifts to your hips, admiring the way your short skirt rides up with each subtle shift. “and it's a damn good view from down here,” he mutters under his breath.

he reaches out towards where his hand was previously, only to snatch it back when you give him a firm look. “come on, don't be mean. i miss the company down there.” he gives you puppy dog eyes, his gaze pleading. “just one hand? for old-time's sake? i'll be good, i promise.”

you can't help but chuckle at his puppy dog eyes, the way they widen ever so slightly to make him look like a pouting child. “don't you start with that look,” you scold, trying to keep your resolve despite his adorable expression.

yet, as much as you enjoy the game of cat and mouse, you can't help but feel a tinge of yearning for his touch too. you bite your lip, considering his plea. “one hand,” you finally relent, “and you better behave yourself, gojo.” a sly smile dances on his lips as he hears your reluctant but consenting response, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you now. gojo slowly slides his hand underneath you once more, this time allowing his fingers to brush against your side, tracing the smooth curve of your waist.

his touch is light, like a whisper against your skin, as if he's testing his boundaries. “you’re so soft,” he whispers, his eyes darkened. “i don’t know how you manage to feel so soft and delicate, but also so strong and feisty at the same time.”

“stop tempting me!” you exclaim with a playful huff. “let me add these little stars to your arm without distractions!” you punctuate your demand with a light bite on his arm, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “i need to focus on my artwork, not on how you’re making this way more interesting than it should be.”

gojo can't help but chuckle at your attempted bite, his arm reflexively twitching under your teeth. “ow, ow, ow,” he exclaims in fake pain, “you're really getting into your role as a fierce artist, huh?”

his hand continues to slowly explore your side, his fingers gently tracing along the hem of your crop top, the tips dipping just slightly beneath the fabric. He watches the way you shiver under his touch with a mixture of amusement and fascination. “is that how you treat your canvas?” he teases. “well, if you weren’t such an irresistible muse, maybe I’d be more gentle,” you retort with a smirk. “but since you’re clearly enjoying this little performance, i might just have to give you an encore. how’s that for art?”

gojo lets out a pleased hum, clearly enjoying your playful banter. “oh, i'm enjoying it alright,” he replies, his hand still drifting lazily along your side, inching its way up to brush against the bare skin of your stomach, “i never knew being a muse could be this much fun.”

his touch becomes a little more insistent, his fingers now outlining the contour of your hip, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch. “keep going,” he encourages, “i want to see your entire masterpiece.”

your mind is a whirl of sensations. you try to focus on your work, continuing to draw the tiny little stars around gojo's scars, but his hand is a constant presence on your body, stealing your attention once again.

you try to keep your composure, to maintain the illusion of control, but the way his fingers glide across your waist, and the heat creeping up your spine betrays you. “i can't work like this,” you halfheartedly complain, your voice a little breathier than you had intended.

“come on, babe, let me just finish this,” you pouted, looking up at your boyfriend with a mix of frustration and affection. he responded with a gentle smile and a sigh of resignation. “alright, alright, i’m sorry,” he said, pushing himself up from the floor to give you a quick, tender kiss. afterward, he eased back down onto the floor, his free arm resting comfortably behind his head as he settled in with a relax expression.

gojo watches with a relaxed smile as you continue your work, his gaze shifting between the colorful stars and spirals on his arm and your concentrated expression. occasionally, his hand would sneak beneath your shirt or stroke against your arm, as if to remind you of his presence and the effect he had on you. you could feel the heat from his skin through your thin fabric, making you shiver each time he touched you.

“you're so focused,” he remarks with a hint of teasing, “it's quite adorable.”

just as you reach for another marker, the sound of the front door opening makes you look up. geto suguru has entered the apartment, his tall, lean figure filling the doorway.

“i'm home,” he says, his footsteps entering the living room after a beat. he looks surprised to find you and gojo sprawled on the carpet, surrounded by a chaotic array of colorful pens. his gaze flicks between the artwork covering gojo's arm to your flushed face. a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“well, this is a colorful sight,” he observes, stepping closer to the carpet, his eyes drifting over the markings on gojo's arm. the white-haired boy grins up at him, his hand still resting underneath you, “well, our little artist here decided to use me as her canvas.”

geto's gaze shifts to you, raising an eyebrow in amusement, “quite the masterpiece you've created there, love,” he looks down on you before crouching beside you.

you look up, smiling at your other boyfriend before kissing him on the cheek, “how is your day, baby?” you ask, soft and gentle as you continue to lie on your stomach and draw on gojo's arm. geto smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling slightly at your affectionate greeting. he leans down to return the kiss gently, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“my day was fine, darling,” he replies, his voice smooth and soothing. he glances down at the artwork you're creating on gojo's arm, his gaze flickering over the bright, vibrant stars and spirals. “i see you've been keeping our dear satoru entertained,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

gojo chuckles, “oh, I'm very entertained, trust me.” he gives your breast a gentle squeeze for emphasis. “our little artist has quite the touch.” geto chuckles, shaking his head at gojo's antics. he crouches down beside you, his gaze lingering on your focused expression as you continue your artwork.

he reaches out and threads his fingers through your hair, gently tousling it. “and how are you doing, my love?” he asks, his voice low and affectionate. you smile, “my day is good, satoru can't stop squeezing my boobs but it was good.”

gojo lets out a laugh, feigning innocence, “hey, i can't help it. they're soft and pleasant to touch.” geto rolls his eyes affectionately, giving gojo a playful nudge. “control yourself, satoru,” he says sternly, yet there's a hint of amusement in his voice. he shifts his attention back to you, his hand still carding through your hair. “ignore this shameless man here. i'm glad your day was good, despite his. . . antics.”

gojo pouts petulantly, his hand still resting on your hip. “i can't help it, they're just. . . right there,” he defends, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

geto huffs, shaking his head again at gojo's unabashed behavior. “you're incorrigible,” he mutters, though his voice lacks any real annoyance. he gazes down at you, a tender look in his eyes, “don't let him distract you too much, dear."

geto watches as you continue to draw on ojo's arm, a small smile playing on his lips. after a minute, he turns his attention to you, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder gently.

“can i have a turn too?” he asks, his voice is soft but hopeful. gojo's eyes widen slightly in surprise, his hand pausing on your hip. “hey, hey. what's with this sudden request?” he asks, mock-jealousy in his tone. but you can tell by the flicker of interest in his eyes that he doesn't mind sharing the spotlight a bit. geto simply rolls his eyes, a hint of amusement at gojo's reaction.

“of course, babe. you can have a turn,” you reply, shifting your attention to geto without paying attention to gojo for a moment. gojo makes a mock cry of protest, but there's a hint of a grin on his face. “hey, no budging in line!”

geto chuckles at gojo's theatrics, shaking his head at his childish behavior. “oh, hush, you had your turn,” he teased. you smile at them both, enjoying the playful dynamic between the two. “don't worry, he won't take too long,” you reassure gojo, glancing over at him with a playful smirk.

gojo pouts, but there's a glimmer of enjoyment in his eyes at the sight of you interacting with both of them. as geto peels off his uniform, revealing his lean, toned body, your eyes widen in appreciation. you can't help but admire his muscular frame, and a smile spreads across your face.

gojo lets out a mock-disgusted groan, clearly annoyed at how easily he's been replaced in your affections. “oh, come on,” he whines, “you're drooling over him already?” geto chuckles at gojo's complaint, taking a moment to flex his muscles, clearly teasing both you and gojo.

you roll your eyes at gojo's pouting, “oh, shush. you just don't want to share the attention, do you?”

meanwhile, geto is thoroughly enjoying the fact that he has your undivided attention, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and affection. “come on baby, lie here and let me put stars on you,” you giggle like a teenage girl who just got her first kiss from her crush. you pat a spot in front of you. geto grins at your giggling excitement, your enthusiastic invitation making him chuckle. he obliges, settling down in front of you, placing his head on gojo's stomach.

gojo, still feigning annoyance, huffs but can't help but also secretly enjoy the sight of the two of you together and the feeling of his boyfriend on his skin. “i feel like a piece of furniture here,” he complains jokingly. you puff a laugh, “come on, baby, don't be like that. i spend hours putting all these little stars on you,” you give him a peck on the lips, “i'll let you put stars on me too if you let me do him first, hm?” you caressing his arm that is now covered in colorful stars lovingly.

gojo's expression softens as you reassure him, his annoyance melting away under your gentle touch. “well, when you put it that way. . .” he mutters, reluctantly agreeing to your suggestion. he looks down at his arm, admiring the colorful stars you've drawn on it. “alright, fine,” he concedes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “but you're not allowed to complain if the stars i draw are messy.” you shook your head, “i won't baby.” you give him another peck on the lips and arm before smiling at him, your eyes sparkling as you look at him.

“you're such a baby, toru,” geto comments before rolling his eyes.

gojo huffs at geto's comment, playfully sticking his tongue out. “i'm not a baby,” he protests, his pout reemerging. “i just happen to appreciate the work my lovely artist is doing.”

you chuckle at their banter, amused by their sibling-like rivalry. “let him pout, babe,” you say to geto, patting gojo's stomach gently, “it's endearing.”

geto shakes his head, amused by gojo's sulking, “you're such a drama queen, satoru.” gojo sticks out his tongue again, clearly reveling in the banter. “oh, shut up. i'm just adding some entertainment to this little art session.” you try to hold back a laugh, enjoying the bickering between them. “alright, you two, can you behave for a little bit so i can finish?”

“besides,” you continue, grabbing a marker and shifting your attention to geto's bare torso, “he's just jealous he's not the center of attention right now.” you begin tracing a few stars on geto's chest, your fingertips grazing over his skin as you work.

geto lets out a content sigh as you begin drawing on his chest. his muscles flex slightly under your touch, a soft hum escaping his lips. he glances over at gojo, who is watching the two of you intently. “jealous, huh?” he teases, a lazy smirk on his face. “is his giant ego feeling threatened again?”

gojo huffs, but there's a playful gleam in his eye. “hey, i'm not jealous,” he defends, “i'm just. . . observant? and i happen to notice when i'm not the center of attention,” he pout, slightly rolling his eyes, realizing how stupid he sounds.

he pokes geto's side, causing him to jump slightly, still ticklish even in his relaxed state. “don't forget who's the real star here,” he adds, giving you a wink. geto swats away gojo's hand, rolling his eyes at his friend's antics. “yeah, yeah, keep reminding us all how great you are,” he quips back, his tone affectionate yet teasing.

you can't help but chuckle at their banter, finding it endearing how they can go from flirting with you to bickering like siblings in a matter of seconds. you continue working on geto's chest, tracing swirling patterns and stars over his smooth skin. geto's gaze drifts up to you, admiring your focused expression as you draw. he smiles, enjoying the feeling of your touch on his skin.

“you really love doing this, huh?” he comments, his voice is soft and affectionate. his purple irises never leave your face, drinking every second of you drawing little stars around his scars.

you glance up at him with a mischievous smile, “oh, absolutely. it’s not every day i get to add a touch of sparkle to such a handsome canvas. besides, watching you enjoy it so much makes it even more fun.” you lean in closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you continue your artwork. “i might just make this my new favorite hobby,” you give his skin a little kiss.

gojo, sensing an opportunity to steal some of the spotlight back, pipes up, “hey, what about me? I let you paint all over me too, ‘yknow.” you glance over at gojo, a coy smile playing on your lips. “oh, don't worry, baby. i didn't forget about you for even a moment.”

you reach over and give gojo's arm a reassuring caress, your fingers tracing over the colorful stars. “and you look adorable with all these stars on you.”

gojo grins, pleased that he's regained a bit of your attention. geto rolls his eyes affectionately, commenting, “there he goes again, always needing the attention.” gojo sticks out his tongue at geto in response, before turning his gaze back to you. “hey, it's nice to be appreciated, ‘yknow,” he whines, pouting like a child.

you laugh at his childish behavior, shaking your head in amusement. “oh, you're always appreciated, you big baby,” you say, giving him another affectionate caress.

geto chuckles, commenting again, “he's such a spoiled brat.” gojo, fully embracing his bratty attitude, puffs out his chest in mock pride. “damn right i'm a spoiled brat. the brat who gets all the attention.” geto rolls his eyes again but can't help but laugh at gojo's antics. “and he's proud of it too. such a child.”

you shake your head, continuing your work on geto's chest, enjoying the friendly banter between the two. gojo rolled his eyes before drifting his eyes to your bare thigh as you were still lying on your stomach, making his face eye-level with your thigh. gojo's eyes narrow upon noticing the bare skin of your thigh, exposed as you continue working on drawing on geto's chest. he can't help but admire the sight, his gaze fixated on the soft skin.

gojo's hand slowly creeps its way over, tracing a lazy pattern on the inside of your thigh, just above behind your knee. you stop for a moment to turn your head and see what gojo were doing before looking at geto who's already looking at him at the same time.

“just let him be, at least he's quiet,” you tell the boy before he gets a chance to throw another comment. a soft laugh escaped geto's lips, chuckles at your comment as he watches gojo's hand travel farther up your thigh, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over your skin.

he can tell from the look on gojo's face that he's completely distracted and fixated on your thigh, completely entranced by the sight before him. “oh, he's definitely not quiet,” geto comments, a small smirk on his face, “he's just drooling silently.” gojo's fingers continue to trace gently over your skin, his touch becoming more purposeful as he slowly inched his way upward. his eyes are half-lidded, his attention fully focused on the exposed skin of your thigh.

he doesn't even bother to respond to geto's comment, too lost in the sight of your bare leg, his mind wandering to all the things he wants to do to you. you shook your head, a defeated sigh leave your lips, “he's such a pervert.” geto simply chuckled at your comment, his gaze flickering over to gojo's fixated expression. “that's an understatement," he quipped.

geto nodded, his eyes following gojo's movements with a mix of amusement and resignation. “that he is. always fixated on the most inappropriate things.” he watches as gojo's hand moves higher, now gently caressing the sensitive skin just above your knee. “i swear, he has the tact of a child sometimes.”

gojo, still entranced by your thigh, finally snaps out of his daze upon hearing your comment. “baby, I'm not a pervert,” he protested, almost whining, though his voice lacked any real conviction, “i'm just. . . appreciating the view.” geto couldn't help but roll his eyes at gojo's weak defense. “yeah, sure you are,” he snorted, not buying it for a second.

he watched as gojo continued to caress your thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the soft skin. “appreciating the view, my ass,” he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“more like salivating over it like a starving man,” he added, shaking his head in amusement. geto rolls his eyes, “‘appreciating the view’ with his eyes all glazed over and not a single coherent thought running through his brain.“

gojo huffs, but he doesn't protest further, knowing that there's a hint of truth in geto's words. his hand continues to wander up your thigh, his touch feather-light as he slowly inches towards the hem of your skirt. geto chuckled again, shaking his head at gojo's lack of denials.

“exactly,” he agreed, a smirk on his lips, “he's just a man controlled by his primal urges. and right now, his primal urge is to cop a feeling.” gojo pouts a little, but can't argue with geto's assessment. his hand slowly travels higher up your thigh, his touch becoming bolder, his fingers tracing the edge of your skirt, gently inching under the hem. “baby it's ticklish,” you move your leg the gojo's touch slightly.

gojo pauses his movements, hearing your protest. he glances up at you, a look of innocent concern on his face. “ticklish, huh?” he says, his hand still hovering just under the hem of your skirt, his index finger tracing small circles on your thigh.

gojo feigns innocence, “oops, my bad. i was just... exploring.” geto snorts, clearly amused by the interaction. “yeah, ‘exploring.’ that's one way to put it.” gojo rolled his eyes, feeling called out, but he can't deny the truth in geto's words. his finger continues to trace small circles on your thigh, his touch a mixture of feather-light and purposeful.

“i can't help it,” he defends, his voice sounding almost whiny, “you just have such soft skin, and... well, it's right there, begging to be touched." geto laughs again, shaking his head at gojo's feeble excuse. “right, it's all my fault. my skin just magically calls out to your wandering hands,” you mock, the sarcasm in your tone clear.

despite your sarcastic remarks, your expression holds a hint of amusement, clearly enjoying the banter. you glance down at where gojo's hand is gently caressing your thigh, his touch still light and teasing. “you're like a dog with a bone, ‘toru. once you get ahold of something, you just don't know how to let go.” gojo pouts again, feigning offense at geto's dog comment. “hey, i'm not a dog,” he replies, his hand still wandering higher up your thigh, almost reaching the bare skin under your skirt.

“and i can let go... when i want to,” he adds defiantly, “i just happen to really enjoy holding onto this particular... bone.” you rolled your eyes before sighing, continue to draw a stars around geto's torso “i swear I'm gonna die young with all of this headache you two gave me.” geto chuckles at your exasperated comment, enjoying the banter between the three of you. “hey, don't blame us for the inevitable early grave,” he replies with a smirk, “we're just adding a bit of excitement to your life.”

gojo, not wanting to be outdone, chimes in with a wink, “yeah, think of us as your personal stress relievers.”

you snort a little before nodding your head, sarcastically replying, “yeah right, more like adding more stress.” geto chuckles, “aw baby, don't be like that, you know from the start we don't promise you this relationship will be stress-free,” he pushes himself upward to give you kisses before lying back.

you playfully roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you continue to draw the stars on his torso, feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch. “oh, i know,” you reply, shaking your head in mock resignation. “but a girl can still hope, can't she?”

“yeah, sorry to break it to you, princess,” gojo jokingly says, his hand now gently gliding from your thigh to your hip, caressing the skin just above the hem of your skirt.

“but you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to date us,” he adds, his voice laced with playful confidence. you take a deep breath, “that sucks,” supporting your face with one hand as you lazily draw on geto's skin. geto smirks, enjoying your half-hearted complaint. “yeah, it's pretty rough,” he replies sarcastically, “having two handsome and charming boyfriends who love and adore you. oh, the hardships you face.”

gojo pipes up, his hand continuing to explore your hip bone under your skirt, “oh, shut up. she should feel honored to have us.” you let out a laugh, shaking your head at their banter. despite your faux complaints, you secretly loved their back-and-forth banter, finding their playful bickering amusing.

“oh, trust me, i feel incredibly honored,” you retort with an affectionate eye roll, “having two massive, needy babies fighting for my attention all the time. it's a dream come true. now my mansion’s ballroom is a bit too crowded, and my collection of rare art pieces isn’t fitting in my oversized vault,” you sarcastically joke.

gojo and geto both roll their eyes playfully at your sarcastic comment, but they can't help but smile at your clever quip. geto laughs, shaking his head. “oh, yeah, it's such a burden having two wealthy, successful sorcerer— not to mention, the strongest in your life. your poor bank account is suffering.”

gojo chimes in with a grin, “and your poor heart must be strained from all the love and affection we shower on you.” you feign a sigh, placing the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically. “oh, the struggles i face,” you say dramatically, your voice dripping with fake sadness. “having two handsome, charming men constantly pestering me for attention and showering me with gifts. it's absolutely terrible.”

gojo and geto exchange a knowing glance, both aware that you're laying on the sarcasm heavily. but they also know that deep down, you secretly love the attention they give you.

“oh, poor princess indeed,” geto says, shaking his head in mock sympathy. “it must be exhausting having two devoted boyfriends who worship the ground you walk on,” gojo sympatheticly said, tapping your ass. you let out a sigh, “i can't do anything about it, can i?” geto and hojo both give you playful grins, shaking their heads in unison.

“nope, not a damn thing,” gojo replies with a shrug, his hand still slowly tracing patterns on your hip under your skirt. geto chimes in, “you're stuck with us, princess. no backsies.”

“poor me,” you shook your head in defeat.

you tap geto's abs before changing your position to sitting, “now my turn,” you demand, giving the two boys a marker. pulling your crop top out of your body, leaving you on nothing but your pink bra and lying on your back on the floor. both boys stare at you with an almost predatory gleam in their eyes, clearly enjoying the sight before them. they take the markers from you, their gaze hungry and appreciative.

gojo twirls one of the markers in his hand, a sly smile on his lips, “oh, princess, you spoil us.” geto nods in agreement, his eyes roaming over your body, “you're giving us a blank canvas to work with. this should be fun.” both boys move closer to you, each taking one side of your body. gojo's hand begins tracing lines on your stomach, his touch firm and purposeful, while geto's fingers glide over your sides, drawing swirling patterns with the marker.

they work in tandem, their eyes occasionally locking with each other as they take in the sight of your body, their markers moving in perfect sync across your skin. “you're such a good canvas,” gojo murmurs, his voice low and husky.

“i know my love, now shut up and do your job,” you pinch his cheek softly. gojo and geto both chuckle at your demand, but they comply, focusing their attention back on your body, their fingers and markers gliding across your skin, their movements precise and deliberate.

“yes, ma'am,” gojo replies with mock obedience, his lips curving into a smirk. “we'll shut up and get back to work,” geto adds, his hand moving over your ribs, tracing small stars with his marker. they continue to draw on your bare skin, their eyes fixed on their task, their markers moving quickly as they fill in different areas. they occasionally glance at each other, exchanging secretive grins as they admire their work.

“you know,” gojo murmurs, his marker tracing the line of your hip bone, “we could do this every night if you wanted.” you raised your eyebrows, with a little smirk on your lips your replies, “or we could go to a tattoo shop and make this permanent,” you jokingly tells your boyfriends. gojo and geto both pause for a moment at the mention of tattoos, their eyes flickering towards each other. they exchange a glance, contemplating your suggestion.

gojo grins, the idea is clearly appealing to him. “you know, that's not a bad idea.” he says, returning his attention to drawing on your body. geto nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “yeah, we could mark you as ours permanently. make sure everyone knows who that gorgeous body belongs to.” they continue their work, their markers gliding across your skin, their touches becoming more possessive and claiming with every stroke.

“wouldn't it be hot?” gojo asks, his hand tracing an intricate pattern on your ribs, “you walking around covered in our marks, a permanent reminder that you're ours, body and soul.“ you chuckle, slightly amused by their reaction to your joke, “yeah, that's not gonna happen.” gojo and geto both pout playfully at your rejection of the idea, their eyes filled with mock disappointment.

“aww, come on,” gojo whines, his marker continuing to draw lines on your upper body, “why not? you'd look even hotter with a bunch of our tattoos all over you.” geto nods, a smirk playing on his lips, “yeah, imagine how jealous everyone would be, seeing all those ink marks on your body, knowing they can never touch you the same way we can.”

you snort, shaking your head while your eyes are focusing on the ceiling, “you're delusional, baby, nobody gonna feel that way.” both boys feign offense at your comment, their expressions hurt and indignant. “what do you mean, nobody's going to feel that way?” gojo protests, his marker pausing on your lower abdomen. “you're like, the most gorgeous person alive. of course, people would be jealous.”

geto nods in agreement, his fingers tracing a star on your hip, “yeah, you underestimate your own allure. you're a walking dream, princess.” you breathe a hearty laugh, ruffle your boyfriends' hair, “you guys are so sweet, you're making me feel good about myself, no wonder why i love you two so much.”

they continue their work, their markers and fingers moving in synchronized harmony, filling in the spaces on your body with their artwork. gojo glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, his expression soft and loving, “you know we adore you, right? every inch of you, inside and out.”

geto nods, his gaze drifting over your body, appreciating every line and contour. “you're our world, princess. we're hopelessly smitten with you.” their words hang in the air, their sincerity and admiration for you clear in their voices. their markers continue to glide over your skin, their touch gentle and reverent.

they finish up their artwork, their markers making a few final strokes before they both sit back and admire their work. they move their gazes over your body, taking in every mark and design they've made. “there,” gojo says, a satisfied smile on his lips, “perfect.”

geto's eyes roaming over your body. “damn, you look even sexier covered in our artwork.” they both take a moment to appreciate their handiwork, their eyes roaming over your body, their expressions filled with pride and satisfaction. the artwork they've drawn on your skin is intricate and beautiful, a masterpiece of their combined effort.

“you really do look amazing,” gojo murmurs, his hand gliding over your hip. “we did a damn good job,” geto says, his gaze lingering on your stomach, “our masterpiece in the flesh."

you look down at the artwork adorning your skin, your eyes widening with genuine admiration. a playful smile spreads across your face as you turn to face them. “well, i must say, you two make quite the artistic team. if this is your idea of a masterpiece, i’d say you’ve outdone yourselves. i might have to start charging for these kinds of commissions!” you give them both a teasing wink, clearly impressed by their work.

you flash them a sly grin and say, “alright, art critics, i need you to snap a photo of your masterpiece. i’m sure you’ll want to show this off as much as i do. so, let’s get that camera ready—this level of artistry deserves to be immortalized, don’t you think?” uou strike a dramatic pose, making sure the artwork is front and center.

they both burst out laughing at your playful words, their eyes gleaming with amusement. they're both clearly pleased by your praise and appreciate your playful banter. gojo grins widely, his hands already moving to fish out his phone. “oh, princess, you have no idea. this isn't just a masterpiece, it's a work of art that should be displayed in a museum."

“damn right,” geto agrees, his eyes still wandering over your body, admiring the artwork he and gojo created. he leans over to grab his own phone, ready to capture the perfect shot of you and their masterpiece. “no need to tell us twice, we’ll document this masterpiece, alright. say cheese.”

gojo and geto both aim their phones at you, framing the artwork on your skin with the camera lenses. they snap a few shots, each from a different angle, making sure to capture every intricate detail of their masterpiece. gojo grins as he reviews the pictures on his phone, his eyes roaming over the image with approval. “damn, we've really outdone ourselves this time,” giving the boy beside him a high-five.

geto nods in agreement, admiring the pictures on his own screen. “that's an understatement. you look even hotter than i could have imagined.” they can't help but laugh as you strike a dramatic pose, clearly enjoying yourself. “that's right baby, just like that, look at you, you look like you're ready for a magazine cover,” gojo chuckles to himself, his finger hovering over the camera button.

“or the cover of a high-end art book,” geto adds, a smirk on his lips. “alright, smile pretty for the camera, princess.” you flash a radiant smile, channeling your inner supermodel as you strike a pose, knowing full well that you look absolutely fabulous.

gojo and geto both snap more pictures, clearly enjoying capturing your beauty and the artwork covering your body. “damn, you're a natural,” gojo says, studying the photos on his phone. “we should frame these and hang them up in our rooms.”

“oh? we're gonna hang it up in our rooms?” you ask, a glint of something flashing in your eyes. “well, we better make it worth it.”

so locking your eyes with them, slowly and sensually you take off your pink bra, holding it between your fingers while your other hand covers your breast. playfully, you throw your bra at them before laughing. gojo and geto's eyes widen in surprise as you seductively remove your bra and playfully throw it at them. they both can't help but grin, their gazes immediately locking onto your bare chest.

“damn, baby, you really know how to make a statement,” gojo murmurs, his eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed skin. geto smirks, catching your bra in his hand and hanging it around his neck, his eyes roaming over your chest. “you definitely make hanging up those pictures worth it.” you are lying on your side with your elbow kneeling on the carpet to support your head while your other hand is still covering your bare chest.

“come on, boys, take a picture of me,” you smile at them. they both raise their phones again, their gazes never leaving your form as you strike yet another provocative pose. their hands hold the camera steadily, their fingers poised over the camera button, their eyes still fixed on your body.

“fuck, you look incredible,” gojo breathes, his eyes roving over you, taking in every inch of flesh on display. geto grins, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “you’re making us want to drop these phones and pounce on you right now, princess.” they both snap a few more photos, focusing on different parts of your body, capturing every curve and contour in all its naked glory. their expressions are filled with desire and admiration as they take in the images on their screens.

“you're a goddamn goddess,” gojo murmurs, his eyes lingering on a particularly risqué photograph of you before adding, “and remember to stay just like that, princess.”

“agreed,” geto nods, his eyes roaming over the photo of you, clearly appreciating every detail. “this is something to keep in our private collection for sure.” you give them a sultry smile, “well, if you’re this impressed now, just wait until you see what i have in store for our private collection. keep those photos safe—I’m planning to give you both plenty more to admire.” you strike a playful pose, teasingly adjusting your position to give them an even better view. gojo and geto exchange a knowing look, their eyes lighting up with excitement and anticipation. they clearly love your playful attitude and the promise of more to come.

“oh, we'll be keeping these photos very safe,“ geto chuckles, his eyes never leaving your body as he continues to take pictures, “and we'll be eagerly awaiting whatever else you have in store for us.”

gojo smirks, his gaze roaming over your body once again, “you really know how to work a camera, princess.“ you look up to them, giving your boyfriends doe eyes as you remove your hand— now fully flashing them your breast. “don't stop now,” you murmur. the tip of your feet moving slowly to geto's abs, purposely open your legs knowing you are wearing nothing underneath your skirt except your pink underwear.

gojo and geto both freeze, their eyes widening as you slowly stretch your feet to press against geto's stomach, your legs opening to reveal your skimpy panties. they're both momentarily speechless, their gazes fixated on your seductive pose.

“holy hell,” gojo gasps, his hands clenching around the edge of his phone as he struggles to take more pictures. “fuck, princess, you're incredible,” geto breathes, his voice low and thick with desire as he looks down at your legs. they both start snapping more pictures, their hands shaky as they try to capture every moment of your seductive display. gojo's eyes dart down to your open legs, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he admires the sight between your thighs.

“can't believe how damn shameless you are,” he groans, his gaze still fixed on your body. geto nods in agreement, his fingers gliding over his phone screen, “you're driving us crazy, princess. you know just how to push our buttons.“ gojo's hand moves quickly, his fingers grasping the edge of your skirt and giving it a firm tug, revealing the skimpy pink fabric of your panties. he quickly raises his phone and snaps a picture, his gaze fixated on the lacy material that's barely covering your most intimate parts.

“fuck, you're a sight to behold,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

geto leans closer, his eyes locked on the photo on the phone screen as he adds, “and I didn't think you could get even hotter, but here we are.” they both can't help but admire the photo, their gazes taking in every detail of your exposed skin and the lacy underwear— already planning on their mind about making it as their home screen. gojo's fingers move over the phone screen again, zooming in to get a closer look at the delicate fabric clinging to your skin.

“you really know how to make things difficult for us, princess,” he mutters, his eyes tracing the contour of your hips and thighs outlined by the thin material. geto chuckles, a smirk on his lips as he adds, “we're not gonna be able to concentrate on anything else tonight after seeing this.”

“now, now, wanna try to make me see stars?” your toe slowly moving to the contour of geto's abs making their eyes light up at your words, their lips curving into wicked grins. they both know exactly what you're implying, and they're both more than willing to make it happen.

gojo's gaze darkens, a sly smile on his lips as he sets his phone down. “oh princess, you don't have to ask us twice,” he replies, stepping closer. geto also sets his phone down, a similar expression on his face as he moves closer to you. “we'll make you see the whole damn universe, sweetheart.”

“why don’t we take this party to the bedroom?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eye. gojo and geto both nod in agreement, their eyes filled with desire and eagerness. “i like the way you think, princess,” gojo murmurs, his hand already reaching out to take yours, his touch firm and possessive. geto brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin. “lead the way, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and suggestive.

they help you to stand from the floor. you take their hands, holding their finger before pulling them toward your shared bedroom. “come on, boys,” your voice is soft, sensual, like a siren singing for their prey. you turn around, once again flashing them your bare chest— a jeans skirt and a pair of socks are the only fabric on your body.

their gazes roam over your body as you flash them, their eyes hungrily taking in your bare chest, the exposed skin on your thighs and legs, and the soft fabric of your socks. they both make appreciative noises, their grips on your hand tightening slightly as they follow you towards the bedroom. gojo's eyes roam over your body, his voice low and gruff as he says, “you really know how to make an entrance.”

geto smirk, his gaze still fixated on your curves as he adds, “we're gonna have so much fun with you.” you reach the bedroom, and enter the room, the air thick with anticipation. the boys are right behind you, their hands still intertwined with yours, their eyes still trailing over your nearly naked body with hungry gazes.

gojo closes the door behind him, a sly smile on his lips as he locks it. “now that we're alone, princess,” he says, his voice dripping with desire, “we can focus all our attention on you.”

[twostepstyless]

Elves Wanted

Main Masterlist

SFW

Author’s Note: Y/N and Harry are drama students from two separate drama schools just looking to make some extra money over the Christmas period. Colleagues to friends to lovers ig? No major warnings I don’t think, maybe a tiny little chat about Christmas being a hard time of year. 

This is my first piece of writing in a looooong long time, so please be gentle  

As always, likes, reblogs and feedback of any variety is encouraged and always appreciated - G x 

Word Count: 7.7K+

It was the middle of November when Y/N saw it. The poster looked threatening. A large font, emboldened and in scary looking shade of red. The paper had gone a bit wrinkly as if it had been clutched tightly in a hand full of piles of the same advert printed over and over again. A contact email was printed multiple times along the bottom on tear-off tabs of paper, the fact that only one tab containing the address was missing added to the overall unappealing look of the advertisement that Y/N found on the ‘Opportunities’ board in the reception of her drama school. It looked threating compared to the opportunity it was offering. 

ELVES WANTED was printed at the top of the sheet followed by a short, bulleted list of qualifications:

Must have an enthusiastic and friendly personality

No experience necessary

No maximum height limit!!!

Great pay for festive season!

DBS checks will be carried out. 

Illustrations of holly leaves and berries bordered the A4 advert and severe looking underlines on the next steps asking for a headshot and CV to be forwarded to the recruiter’s email attached to the tear-off slips. A mall elf. Santa’s little helper. Y/N didn’t think it was the worst gig she could have in the world. Another thing to add to her CV she supposed. She realises she’s trying to convince herself into doing it and she was of the mindset if you had to convince yourself something is a good idea, it probably isn’t. But the Christmas holidays were looming and her student loan never in a million years could stretch towards Christmas presents and the zero hours contract she had a greasy spoon café down the road from her flat was certainly not helping either. She was desperate for consistent income to see her through Christmas. So, with a sigh, she ripped off the email information. 

***

Across the city, Harry was stood in front of an advert on the ‘Opportunities’ board in the reception area of his drama school. Harry frowned, then leaned in closer to get a better look. He read the poster twice, then a third time, and despite his better judgment, he felt a strange pull. There was something ridiculous about it, something he couldn’t quite shake. The idea of becoming an elf at Santa’s Grotto in a shopping centre, a 6-foot (on a good day at least) elf at that, on the surface, was completely mental. But then again, he thought back to the acting gig he had over Christmas last year and thought anything would be better than that. Plus, he loved Christmas really, and getting to spread a bit of joy can only be a positive thing. He rubbed his temple as though to clear his thoughts, still staring at the flyer. ‘Great pay’, the poster said. That was tempting. What the hell? He could be an elf for a month. Maybe there was something strange and fun about playing a cheerful holiday character—something a little whimsical and different from his usual typecast as a tortured soul or brooding romantic lead. Harry's lips quirked into a smile. “I can totally do this,” he muttered to himself, snapping a photo of the requirements and ripping off the contact email and shoving it into his pocket. 

***

Y/N trudged back to her flat after leaving uni, fell into her bed and fished out her laptop to send her email to the elf recruiter. She attached her most recent headshot and newly updated CV and sent it off to the email address she clung onto. As her laptop screen faded to black, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the screen. She didn’t look happy. She looked knackered actually, with heavy dark circles around her eyes. The past few months had been a lot. Exhausting, frustrating, and filled with self-doubt. She’d just finished a semester of intense Stanislavski system classes which were emotionally, physically and psychologically taxing when she was applying them to the acting pieces she was performing. She longed for a break, for something to remind her why she had fallen in love with performing and acting in the first place. Maybe this odd elf job would do that—maybe she could rediscover some joy in performing, even if it was just a month or so of prancing around in stripy tights and painted on rosy cheeks.

Y/N sighed and shook her head, but a small smile crept onto her lips. Why not? she thought again, maybe she could learn to appreciate Christmas again. 

***

Winter had truly set in the next week when Y/N arrived at the shopping centre’s service entrance. The wind nipped at her face, the only bit of her not covered up by woolly or fleece fabric. Despite the cold, there was a gentle hum of festive energy beginning to spark. She had her phone open directing her to the disused unit nearest the newly built grotto which they had turned into a dressing room and break room for all the actors who were going to be working there over the holidays. She had to agree there would be something distinctly unmagical about a child seeing the elf that had shown them to Santa, or the big man himself, walking through the mall with a backpack over their costume to catch the tube home.  

This was it—the first day of her “elf job,” as ridiculous as it seemed. She still wasn’t entirely sure what she’d gotten herself into. At least Noelle seemed nice enough as a manager when they’d spoken over zoom after Y/N applied. (Y/N still wasn’t sure if that was her actual name or that Noelle just loved Christmas that much, she’d given it to herself, she wouldn’t be shocked if it was the latter) And hey, it wasn’t like there was anything else on her schedule at the moment, classes having broken up for an extended Christmas break this week to allow the students to pick up winter acting gigs. 

The smell of cinnamon and something distinctly chocolatey wafted through the air as she hurried through the shopping centre, the disused unit between the small Boots (the big boots was on the second floor) and Clarks shoe shop was her end goal with a note to show up at 8:30 to be assigned her costume, meet their Santa and the other elves and to be talked through what their role was and what do before the kids started arriving to meet Saint Nick at 10:30 A.M. 

She was first there. Not a shock, she’s notoriously early to everything. Just Noelle in the space, ticking Y/N’s name off the list attached to her clipboard and urging her to pull up a chair until the rest of her colleagues arrived. Tubs of celebrations and heroes cracked open on the tables for the employees to pick at if they were on break. 

Y/N quickly snagged a Malteser one from the red tub knowing those were her favourite but always the first to run out in a box of Celebrations. As she rammed the chocolate into her mouth a deep, slow voice called out.

“Hey! Are y’here for the elf job too?”

Y/N looked up. A boy—no, a man—was walking toward her, a friendly smile on his face. He was tall, like worthy of stating in your dating profile tall, with chocolatey, perfectly tousled hair like he’d just ran his fingers through it and it fell perfectly. His cheeks were also flushed from the cold, and there was an energy about him, an air of confidence that could potentially approach cockiness, but not in a dickhead way, a way that made Y/N feel suddenly self-conscious. She straightened up, trying to look more confident.

“Uh, yeah.” Fuck, she still had the half-chewed Malteser sweet in her mouth, she swallowed it harshly. “I am, yeah,” she said, his voice coming out a little awkwardly. 

The man laughed lightly, as if sensing her discomfort, and stuck out his hand. “M’Harry. S’my first day, too. So, we’re in the same boat.”

Y/N hesitated for a second before shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and his-Harry’s eyes sparkled with a kind of warmth that she wasn’t used to.

“Harry,” she said. “Yeah, I figured I wasn’t the only one.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing around. “Have y’seen the costumes?” he asked with a grin. “Noelle was pulling the rail out as I came in,” he nodded towards the rail now in Y/N’s peripheral, “and not that I’m biased towards the fact me n’you are here first… but I think we’re going to look the best.” 

Y/N snorted, suddenly picturing the pair of them in the green and red get up she could see swinging around on hangers that Harry pointed out. “Yeah, right. I’m not sure there is a looking the best in those but I’ll try not to look too much like a walking, talking Christmas tree.”

Harry laughed again, his voice light and carefree. “You could be a very stylish Christmas tree. And if not, I’m sure the kiddies will love you anyway. I mean, it’s hard t’look serious in tha’.”

Y/N had to agree. She could see tiny bells on the tips of the curly toed shoes and around the base of the pointy hat that were jingling in an absurdly cheerful way as Noelle pulled the rail up towards the congregating elves, more of whom had arrived in the time she had been speaking to Harry not that she noticed them arrive. 

“I’m guessing you’ve done this before?” she asked.

“Nope,” Harry replied with a shrug, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “But I’m an actor, so literally trained in fake it til I make it.” She glanced at him knowingly. “I’m sure you can, too.”

There was something about the way he said it, so effortlessly, as if being an actor was the most natural thing in the world. Y/N felt a pang of recognition. She was the same way, always pretending like she had her shit together when, in reality, she felt like she hanging by a thread the vast majority of the time.

“You’re an actor, too?” she asked, as Harry pulled a twirl out the box of heroes and snaffled it down just as quickly. 

“Yeah,” he said round the mouthful of chocolate, “Where d’you go?” 

 “Oh, I’m at RADA,” she said with a sheepish smile, as though it were no big deal. “How about you?”

“The Conservatoire,” Harry replied in a similar tone. “It’s… kind of intense there. Everyone’s obsessed with Shakespeare n’like fuckin’ Laurence Olivier,” he chuckled. His voice tinged with self-deprecation. “Which is fine, and y’know same but sometimes it feels like m’in an endless cycle of waiting. Auditions, classes, workshops, more auditions…” He trailed off, realizing he was rambling. “Though suppose you’re the same at RADA,” He finished.

Y/N’s eyes softened a little. “I get that. Sometimes it feels like I’m auditioning for my own bloody life instead of actually living it, and the constant seriousness can really knock the wind out of it and make you forget why you started acting in the first place.” She leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms. 

“At least this elf job is different. It’s kind of nice to do just… do something fun, you know?” Harry suggested.

Y/N nodded, a little surprised by the ease in which he found the bright side. There was a grounded quality to him that she hadn’t expected, especially when he said he attended the conservatoire. He didn’t seem to be caught up in the competitive, high-strung nature of their shared world, or if he did, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.  Maybe it was his willingness to embrace something as silly as playing an elf that made him stand out to her.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. “I think I’m just overthinking it. Like, this is the first thing I’ve gotten in a minute that’s actually paying me, and I’m being weird about it. Plus, I’ve got the perfect excuse to wear a fun outfit for a month,” she giggled, hoping to match his blasé attitude. 

Harry smiled back, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. “Exactly!” 

Before their conversation could go any further, Noelle, decked out in an obscene Christmas jumper with glittery yarn and flashing lights stood at the front of the now full room.

“Hiya chookies! Welcome to your first day as Santa’s helpers!” she said brightly in her bubbly Welsh accent, clapping her hands together. “I’ve spoken to you all before but just to reintroduce I’m Noelle and I’ll be your manager for the duration of this job! You’ll be working alongside our Santa Claus, Arthur, bringing the magic to life for all the little ones we’ll have coming to visit right up until the 24th of December. You’ll mostly be working in pairs which I can split you up into- or I see most of you have split into little groups already so that will do just lovely too!” 

At the mention of already being in pairs, Harry and Y/N’s eyes flickered up to each other’s with a small smile from Y/N and a wink from Harry that made Y/N’s stomach swoop as he mouthed ‘partner’ at her. 

Noelle continued, “so we’ll get you costumed and your elf’s name assigned to you, then we’ve got a few little training things to get through before we kick off the festive season with our first visitors at 10:30!” 

***

The rest of the morning was a blur of final costume adjustments, training videos about handling children, and learning the ropes of the “Santa meet-and-greet” routine. Introduce, smile, take the kid to Santa, reassure any nervous little ones, pass out candy canes til you’re blue in the face, and sprinkle as much magic and joy in there as possible as they went. As 10:30 approached, Harry found himself standing next to Y/N at the edge of Santa’s grotto ready for the first batch of children to arrive. 

Through the noise of the shopping centre, chatter and the beep of checkouts and the rush of activity, Harry caught Y/N’s eye and offered her a dazzling smile. “Well Sugarplum,” he said, now referring to Y/N as her Elf name, as was required in their training, his voice low enough for only her to hear, “here we go. Let’s see if we can make some Christmas magic without completely embarrassing ourselves.”

Y/N laughed softly, knocking her hip against his playfully. “You’ll do great. Just remember to smile like you mean it and even if we’re pretending that it’s the most magical moment of your life.”

Harry rolled his eyes but found himself smiling anyway. “I’ll try my best. Elf-ing is harder than it looks I reckon.”

As the first family approached the line, Y/N leaned closer to him, her voice playful. “Ready to bring some joy to the world, Jingles?”

“After you, my jolly little elf,” Harry said with a smile, feeling something spark between them that he couldn’t quite name, their shoes jingling as they bounced forwards to greet their first family. 

***

The first shift was chaotic.

Y/N had been bracing herself for the madness of it all, but nothing quite prepared her for the relentless pace of the Santa meet-and-greet. From the moment they arrived at the grotto and workshop themed area, complete with twinkling lights, piles of fake presents, an enormous, fluffy teddy bear in the corner and nutcrackers as tall as Harry, it was clear that the role of an elf was not as simple as it seemed.

The instructions from Noelle had been brief—"Smile, be enthusiastic, don't get in Santa's way, and make sure every child gets their gift!"—but in practice, it felt like a never-ending whirlwind. The line of eager little children accompanied by parents and carers lapped around the grotto and down the hallways of the mall and the air buzzed with the excited chatter of families, the high-pitched giggles of toddlers, and the occasional wail of a child whose feet hurt from waiting or was a little scared of the man with the round belly and red suit. 

Y/N was feeling the initial confidence boost Harry gave her, waver. The green tunic was a tad itchy, the makeup to paint her cheeks rosy was 100% going to cause her a spotty breakout and the pointy shoes, which she’d thought would be a fun novelty, now felt like they were cutting off the circulation to her toes. She was supposed to be cheerful and welcoming, but every time she smiled, it felt a little forced. And then there was the jingle. The tiny bells attached to the hem of her outfit, hat and tips of her curly shoes made every step a clinking reminder that she was no longer the serious actor she aspired to be. No, now she was an elf, and that meant every footstep seemed to ring with the joyful spirit of Christmas. 

"Alright, Sugarplum!" Harry’s voice cut through the noise as he slid into place next to her. "You’re doing great! Just keep smiling!" His eyes twinkled with mischief, and Y/N couldn’t help but return his grin, even if it was more of a grimace.

“I’m not sure I’m pulling off the ‘joyful, Christmas spirit’ look,” she muttered, glancing at Harry. “I think the kids can tell I'm not really feeling it.”

“Oh, please,” he teased, adjusting his own costume, he had managed to twist one of the legs of his red tights around his leg as he peeled them up when he got changed and seemed completely unbothered by it. “You look like you just stepped off of an elf runway. Like we are North Pole Fashion Week right here. Autumn/Winter 2024’s finest!”

He was, in fact, a burst of holiday cheer. His costume fit well, minus the small problem with his tights. His movements were smooth and confident, and he had this way of leaning into his role that made it seem effortless. Every time a child came up to him, he greeted them with enthusiasm, making silly faces to the young ones who couldn’t talk yet, or twirling around to make them squeal and giggle.

Y/N, on the other hand, had already almost fell onto the nutcracker when a child approached her from behind. 

***

"Hey, Elves!" a little girl said in a high-pitched voice, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was maybe seven years old, with a haughty expression on her face that both Harry and Y/N couldn’t help but find hilarious. "I want a unicorn for Christmas."

“Uh, okay, a unicorn,” Y/N repeated, trying to channel the enthusiasm Noelle had instructed them to have. “Is that, like, a stuffed unicorn or an actual unicorn?”

The little girl stared at her blankly. “A real one. With wings.” As if that was obvious, Y/N thought.

Y/N blinked. “Oh… right. Well, I think we’ll need to ask Santa if he can make that happen. Santa has magical powers, you know, isn’t that right Jingles?” she gestured to Harry, desperately wanting to involve him in this conversation to get it over with quicker.  

“That’s absolutely right Sugarplum, but I’m not sure the unicorn’s gonna make it through customs...” Harry trailed off

The girl raised an eyebrow. “I don’t care about that. I want a unicorn. With wings.”

“Understood.” Harry nodded seriously. “I’ll put in the request to Santa’s workshop immediately.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Harry so turned away to get her giggles out as she organised the piles of gifts for the kids as the little girl continued on.

She gave a dramatic sniff before turning to her adult and questioning, “mummy why does that elf have all those on him?”

“All what, princess?” The little girl’s mother barely took her eyes off her phone while responding to her. 

“All those drawings,” she pointed her sticky looking hand to Harry while her mother finally looked up and over with distaste to see Harry’s lower arm exposed from where the fluffy cuffs on his tunic had ridden up, exposing the inky swirls that littered his arm.  

“I got these in prison,” Harry said to the child, seriously. 

“HARRY,” Y/N shouts whipping her head round from the reorganised piles of presents and a series of giggles. 

“Um, its Jingles to you, Miss Sugarplum,” he responded to Y/N with a sly look in his eye before turning back to the little girl, “I broke a lot of elf and safety rules,” he nodded with a sad sort of soft smile as the girl and her mother moved farther up the queue and away from Harry and Y’N’s section.

“You’re going to get sacked,” Y/N laughed. 

“Nah, no chance, I don’t reckon there’s any understudies for elves, I’m just trying to brighten the place up, they say Christmas cheer is spread through laughter,” Harry said reaching for one of the candy canes they had in a bowl to give out to customers.  

“No one says that” Y/N responded.

“Wel, I did just then,” Harry smirked before shoving his newly unwrapped candy cane between his lips. 

***

Y/N found herself laughing more, letting go of the relentless pressure she usually placed on herself. She still had moments of doubt, but they were becoming less frequent. And more often than not, Harry was there, laughing with her, encouraging her to embrace the more sparkly, joyful side of things.

By the end of the week, both Harry and Y/N were beginning to look forward to their shifts—not just for the pay check, but because of the time spent with each other. Their friendship was growing, deepening in those small moments of shared joy. They spent their breaks together, sharing their lunches and swapping stories about their schools, about their aspirations, about everything and nothing.

“I jus’ couldn’t face doing panto again this Christmas for some work experience, last year I ended up in a production of Cinderella at holiday park in the arse end of nowhere and let me just tell you never again,” Harry said round mouthfuls of the Subway sandwich he’d ran to go pick them up on their joint lunch break.

“You didn’t?!” Y/N gasped dramatically, putting her own sandwich down. 

“I did.” 

“Oh no you didn’t,” Y/N refuted.

“What y’on about? I did, I played Buttons.”

“Oh no you didn’t!” Y/N teased.

“Oh no you didn- OH ha ha, very funny,” Harry rolled his eyes playfully.  “But yeah I had to stay in a static caravan for the length of the run, and not one of those nice, posh static caravans with the deck and did y’know some of them have actual baths in ‘em too? It was a shit one, that smelt of damp and sand from the beach and had a scorch mark on the carpet from the fan radiator someone had put on upside down, the thing probably would’ve looked better if it had gone up in flames.”

***

It was the week before Christmas, when the shopping centre was at its peak. Crowds of shoppers were everywhere. Pushing, jostling, and frantically checking their lists. Santa’s grotto had gotten busier and busier and December went on, and Harry and Y/N were in the thick of it, dodging around children, parents, and cameras, keeping up the relentless pace of their elf duties. 

They were stationed in the photo line, dishing out candy canes left, right and centre to anyone who didn’t already have one clutched in their hands. The music overhead had transitioned from classic carols to the more upbeat, catchy tunes—"Jingle Bell Rock," "Last Christmas," and, of course what’s Christmas without a little bit of Mariah. 

“Honestly, feels like Christmas exploded all over this place,” Harry muttered to Y/N as a child skipped past them, jingling her own set of bells in her hair. He adjusted his own costume and shot a glance around at the sea of red and green. “I love Christmas but even I’m starting to feel a little less Santa n’a little more Scrooge.” 

Y/N’s grin was infectious. “I know, right? But I think I’m starting to really love it rather than seeing this as a quick, easy wage every week. It feels like a big Christmas party every day and really is starting to put me in the mood for the 25th.”

Harry snorted. “You’re a better elf than I’ll ever be then. I’m about two seconds from snapping the candy canes and calling it a day.” 

Y/N chuckled, her eyes glinting mischievously. “You could do that. But you’d be the elf who shows up on the ‘Naughty List,’ and frankly, I don’t think you want that reputation,” Y/N shrugged playfully.

“Well, there’s always next year,” Harry replied with a wink.

As the hours passed, the atmosphere only intensified. The mall was bursting with excited chatter, laughter, and the occasional tantrum from an upset child. Harry was starting to feel the weight of it all—the constant smiling, the relentless energy. He glanced over at Y/N, who seemed unaffected by it all. She was laughing, her face flushed from the warmth of the crowd, her energy infectious, but Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something—something more than the seemingly newly discovered holiday cheer that seemed to shine out of her pores like the lights round the Christmas trees. There was a depth to her that he couldn’t quite place. A vulnerability that was hidden beneath her new, bright exterior. He had seen it before, right at the start of their run—brief moments when her eyes grew a little distant or when she would zone out during a particularly quiet lull. She seemed melancholic a lot of the time at the beginning but the closer they got to Christmas her personality seemed to do a switch to the most utterly joyful person you could ever come across. Harry didn’t buy it, not completely anyway. 

After another round of photos, a break finally arrived. It wasn’t much—only fifteen minutes—but it was enough for them to run off to their break room to rest their jingled feet. Harry slumped down in his seat, taking a long, deep breath of the slightly cooler air of their break room. He caught sight of Y/N across the room, filling up a glass of water each for them from the cooler.

"Hey," Harry said, his voice a bit quieter now. “Y’alright?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide and a little startled by the question. She blinked a couple of times, as if trying to shake off some thought she’d been lost in.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied quickly, offering a bright smile. “I’m just… y’know. Trying t’make the most of the break.” She gestured vaguely around; the room was empty bar the pair of them.

“Right,” Harry said, but there was something in her tone that didn’t quite match the smile she was giving him. He knew her well enough by now to see that something was off. It was slight, subtle even, but it was there.

He took a deep breath, feeling that the awkwardness of the moment would pass if he just said it. “Look, Y/N... I don’t want to make you uncomfortable n’just tell me t’fuck off if I’m overstepping or anything… but I feel like there’s more going on with you than you’re letting on.”

She froze for a moment before placing the now full glass of water in front of Harry. Her eyes shifted to the floor, her expression briefly faltering before she met his gaze again.

“You’re talking about the personality transplant I’ve had in the last few days, aren’t you?” she asked with a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Harry shook his head. “No. I mean… yes. But not just that.” He pulled the chair next to him round to an angle so they would be basically facing each other eye to eye as he encouraged her to take a seat. Lowering his voice slightly. “I know m’not the best at reading people, but I can tell y’hiding something. You’re not as… I don’t know… there’s something not quite right about the smile you’re painting on, right?”

Y/N’s smile faltered, and she glanced away. “I’m fine, Harry. I promise.”

But Harry didn’t buy it. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something in her voice, a tone as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact and not just him, that made him feel that she wasn’t fine.

“Y/N, m’not trying to make you talk about anything you’re not ready to share,” Harry said gently. “But… you can’t just bury everything under the elf costume and the smiles. It’s okay to not be okay sometimes,” he said with a soft smile as he nudged his knee against her own. 

The room was silent. Y/N chewed on her bottom lip, clearly battling with something. Harry held his breath, waiting. Finally, she sighed deeply, as if the weight of it all had become too much to carry any longer.

“I didn’t want to bring it up, s’a bit of a mood killer at this time of year,” she said quietly, her voice thick with something Harry couldn’t quite place. “But... I guess I’m just tired. Not physically—well, kind of. But emotionally. I don’t know… I’ve been pretending a lot this year.”

Harry watched her, his brow furrowing. "Pretending?"

Y/N let out a shaky breath and nodded. “My family... my dad... this time of year is always hard for me. Christmas is supposed to be happy, right? But it just... reminds me of everything I’ve lost. Things that don’t work out. People who move on.” She paused, her voice trembling just slightly. “I didn’t want to let it affect my job here. I didn’t want to ruin the fun, or the magic… and I guess it’s been a lot.”

Harry felt a pang of sympathy for her. The words hung in the air like fragile glass, and he could see how much it had cost her to admit it. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, he just nodded, understanding. “I get it,” he said eventually. “Y’don’t have to keep pretending, though. Not round me anyway.”

She gave him a small, relieved smile, but there was still sadness behind her eyes. “Thanks, Harry,” she whispered, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “I think I just needed someone to hear it. Even if it’s just for a second. I’m just… knackered,” she sighed.

Harry leant closer, offering gentle smile his hand reaching down to squeeze her knee. “Anytime. You know that.”

For the last few moments of their break, they just sat there, sipping on their water and cooling down for a bit, the noise of the shopping centre drifting in from the distance. Harry didn’t push her to say more, but they both knew something had shifted between them in that moment. Y/N wasn’t just his elf colleague anymore. She was a person with a past, with scars, with feelings. And Harry wanted to be there for her, even if it meant just offering an ear if she needed it.

And maybe she just needed to know that someone was there to listen, even someone she met working at Santa’s Grotto.

The break ended with the sound of a loud cheer coming from the main concourse of the shopping centre, where a new group of children had gathered to see Santa. Y/N downed the rest of her water and gave her cheeks a few quick pats to wake herself up, as if the moment of vulnerability had never happened, and smiled at Harry.

“Ready for round two?” she asked, her voice lighter than before.

Harry nodded. “Let’s do this Sugarplum.” And for the first time in a long while, Harry realized that sometimes, just being real with someone else was the greatest gift of all.

***

The day before Christmas was a blur of lights, music, and the constant hum of holiday energy. For such a manic day, it was a slow one. Harry had stopped counting the hours long ago of his shifts long ago; it was just a matter of getting through the day, but with Y/N by his side, it felt bearable. Their friendship had become a steady constant, something Harry looked forward to in the midst of the holiday madness. They spent their breaks together, talked about everything and nothing, and found little ways to make each other laugh.

But today felt different. There was a quiet tension in the air between them, an unspoken awareness that lingered longer than usual. It was approaching midday on Christmas Eve, the final shift before the big day. The mall was packed, the halls full of families rushing to get those last-minute photos with Santa, children buzzing with excitement. Harry and Y/N had just finished their break and were back on as Jingles and Sugarplum, standing in front of the grotto. They had gotten good at this—good at smiling until their cheeks hurt, good at posing for photos, good at handing out candy canes like it was second nature. But today, something felt… off. Something wasn’t quite as simple as it had been before.

“Last day,” Y/N said, adjusting her costume, the bells twinkling and punctuating her sentence, her tone almost too casual as she looked around at the busy area. “Can y’believe it’s finally Christmas Eve?”

Harry shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “It kind of feels like we’ve been doing this forever, doesn’t it? Like, time doesn’t even work anymore.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, her eyes scanning the crowd. Then, turning back to Harry, her gaze lingered a moment too long. “You know, I’ve actually really enjoyed this. Not the work, obviously, but… the time we’ve spent together. It’s been…” She hesitated, glancing down at her costume before meeting his eyes again. “Nice. A break from my usual, I guess.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t say it directly, but there was something in her voice that made him wonder if she felt the same way he did.

“I get that,” he said, his voice a little quieter than before. “It’s kind of hard to explain, but I feel like we’ve gotten into this rhythm. You know what I mean?”

She smiled, that familiar, easy smile that made him feel like he was the only one in the room. “Exactly. We’ve somehow survived this madness, and now it’s almost over.”

As they stood there, exchanging glances with the busy families waiting in line, Harry couldn’t help but feel a sense of… finality. He had been dreading the end of this gig, not because he didn’t want to go back to the conservatoire and his classes after break but because he didn’t want to not see Y/N every day. The idea of her becoming just another friendly face in the crowd of his life was akin to one of Shakespeare’s tragedies to him, he didn’t want that at all.

“You’re right,” he said slowly, “I don’t want it to be over. This... thing we’ve got going on, I mean.”

Y/N paused, her eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion. “What do you mean, ‘this thing’?” 

Fuck, Harry thought as looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious, a rarity for him. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe he was just imagining that there was something between them. But the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, the way they laughed together, the way he felt this inexplicable pull towards her. 

“This thing where it’s easy to talk t’you. Where we don’t have to pretend with each other,” he said carefully, his heart pounding a little harder in his chest. “Where… I don’t know… I feel like I can be myself at least.”

She blinked, processing his words. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but then her lips curled into a slow, thoughtful smile. “I know what you mean,” she said softly. “It’s like… we don’t have to be perfect all the time, right? Like, we can just… be. Together.”

The way she said the word “together” sent a small shiver down Harry’s spine. He could feel the air between them shift, and suddenly, he wasn’t sure if it was just the holiday magic, or something more. Something deeper.

He took a deep breath, stepping a little closer to her. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud wail from a child pierced the air, cutting through the moment like a knife. The child, no older than six, was tugging at her mother’s sleeve, refusing to get anywhere near the front door of the grotto where on the other side she’d meet Santa. Her voice was a screech of fear almost, desperate to leave.

Harry and Y/N immediately snapped back into their roles, the brief, intimate moment forgotten in an instant. It was as though the world had snapped back into its chaotic rhythm. Harry plastered on his best elf smile and turned to the mother, ready to jump back into character.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, though his mind was still racing with the things he had almost said to Y/N.

Y/N, ever the professional, was immediately by Harry’s side, kneeling down to the little girls height. “Hey there sweetness, I’m Sugarplum and this is my pal Jingles,” she said in a gentle, soothing voice nodding to Harry who waved at the shy little girl. “Y’know, Santa’s not so bad. Look, we’re elves and have worked with the big man for forever, and we think he’s pretty cool, isn’t that right Jingles?” 

The little girl sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve of her little red coat, before glancing up at Y/N and Harry with watery eyes. “Really?”

“Absolutely!” Harry said with a wink, before he too knelt down to the girls’ level, his voice bright and reassuring. “Santa’s just a big teddy bear. In fact he gave me this,” Harry pulled a candy cane from his pocket with a flourish, “t’give to you before we go in and see him!”

The girl seemed to hesitate for a moment, before nodding slowly reaching out to wrap her fingers around the candy cane Harry held out to her, “Okay…”

As the little girl settled, Harry couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N. She had a way with the kids who were a little scared or nervous, a warmth that made him admire her even more. She always knew exactly what to say, always had the right level of energy to make them feel better. It was something he’d noticed before, but today, it felt like a piece of the larger picture. When the little girl finally took a seat on the stool next to Santa’s chair and was yapping away listing off things she wanted for Christmas as well as things she thinks he should give her baby brother, Harry and Y/N exchanged a smile at a job well done. 

As the rest of the day wore on, the mall’s energy peaked and then began to mellow. The final families arrived, children almost vibrating with excitement at Santa’s imminent arrival, parents frantically snapping photos. In the quiet moments between families, Harry found himself stealing glances at Y/N. She was still the same—cheerful, warm, effortlessly glowing—but there was a new layer between them now, an unspoken understanding.

Finally, as the evening came to a close, the last group of families having exited with their pictures in hand. Santa waving a big goodbye to any straggler groups citing that he had a long night ahead of him and had to go see Mrs Claus before he set off on his journey around the world. Harry and Y/N were left alone in the grotto, it was just the two of them now, standing in the glow of the Christmas lights, the last traces of holiday music playing softly in the background.

Y/N turned to Harry, her eyes locking with his. “I guess this is it,” she said softly, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, his heart beating just a little faster. “It’s weird. I kind of thought it would feel like a relief when it was over, but… now it’s here, it feels… wrong, somehow.”

Y/N smiled softly, stepping a little closer to him. “It’s not over, Harry. It’s just… different now.”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope so.”

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they both leaned in, just inches apart. The air between them was charged, the magic of Christmas, the long month and a half of working side by side, and the undeniable pull they felt toward each other all converging in that one perfect instant.

Before Harry could think too much about it, Y/N closed the small gap, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft, tentative, but filled with something deeper—something neither of them could deny any longer.

The moment held, timeless and sweet, as they finally gave in to the feelings that had been building between them, and as they pulled back, breathing in the shared warmth of the kiss, it was clear to both of them: this was only the beginning.

“D’you think we can go get changed now? I never want to see or feel another pair of fucking tights anywhere near my legs for a long, long time,” Harry said as Y/N burst into fitful giggles her face slumping against his shoulder as she laughed

***

They had swapped numbers early on in their job, Harry’s suggestion since they were paired together in case one of the two were to be poorly or running late but had never used those numbers. As much as Harry’s fingers twitched to do so. 

They separated outside the mall after their kiss, both rushing off to get to their families to spend Christmas Day with them. Christmas morning came with a quiet calm. Y/N had expected to wake up feeling exhausted, her muscles sore from the constant running around, the endless hours of standing in character, smiling for the camera, but instead, she woke up in her bedroom at her Mum’s house… on edge. Like something had shifted, and now the world around her seemed to have rearranged itself, in ways she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for.

She also woke up to a text and her heart took off running. 

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄 : Merry Christmas Sugarplum!! Hope your day is as magic as you are xx

Fucking hell, he sent kisses, KISSES… Should she send kisses back, never mind the kisses she needs to type the actual text first.

Y/N: and a merry christmas to you jingles. have a lovely day with your family Harry xx

He sent two kisses so she sent two kisses, that seemed a safe bet. 

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: When are you back in the city? Xxx

THREE KISSES!

Y/N:  i’m back on the 28th, you? :) xxx

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: Crazy, me too! I’m going to hope you don’t have New Years plans yet and wanted to ask if you wanted to do something with me? Ring in the new year together? Xxx 

A second text came in before Y/N even managed to process what the first one had said. 

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: Plus I’m not going to lie, going from seeing you and spending all day every day with you to not seeing you at all today is shit and I’ve decided I hate it xxx 

Y/N:  yes!!! let’s do it, i didn’t have any plans anyway so absolutely want to spend it with you xxx 

Y/N:  p.s i hate it too :( xxx 

***

They had met outside the tube station, a warm embrace on the pavement as a greeting as they began their walk to find a spot on Primrose Hill for the night, filling each other in on what they had been up to on Christmas Day and the days since. They had both booked a few auditions for the first few weeks of January and Y/N had decided she was changing her life in the New Year and had done a massive clear out and deep clean of her flat. And Harry? Well, he’d came home from his Mum’s with a pet cat in tow, one his Mum had recently been fostering and Harry fell in love within the space of a few hours. He’d called her Jingles. 

They found a spot on Primrose Hill, both of them unpacking the bags they had brought with them. A picnic blanket each they layered on top of each other to shield their bums from the cold ground. A flask of soup and a flask of tea to keep them warm as well as some snacks and tinned cocktails to see them through the night to the bells. Harry also had a half-sized bottle of champagne tucked in his bag for them to pop at midnight. 

They spent their evening wrapped up in each other in their own little bubble getting to know one another more than they already did and as Midnight came and fireworks began to pop and sizzle in the sky and people around them waved glittering sparklers around and the nearest church bells rang signifying a new hour and a new year Harry kissed Y/N again, this time with more certainty, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the joy of being with someone who understood her completely. For the first time, in what felt like forever, Y/N realized she didn’t need anything else.

They had everything right here and they thought that was pretty magical.

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.5 5.4K

This is the penultimate chapter everybody!

Love you all, thanks for reading my things! Scroll back on this account or check AO3 for the full story! Not proofread I am tired.

Enjoy Enjoy Enjoy

<3

Considering the events of the previous evening, you should have anticipated a ridiculous morning. 

Yawning, with bleary eyes, you left your room and were confronted with a wall of wrapping paper where the top of the stairs should be. A tap to the shoulder, an antler covered Kino. 

“Mystic doorway,” He mumbles, “When Mel gets here we can smash through it and Mum will be waiting in a Santa hat,” 

“You’re kidding,” 

“Nope,” Mel added, appearing with hazy eyes. You were feeling it too. Port was brutal. 

You were permitted to do the honours. Ruining the barrier, you were met with large white footprints going down the stairs towards the living room, and Ambessa Medarda wearing a Santa hat, wolf top and tartan trousers. The others smiled fondly, the novelty long since gone, but your heart was trapped in a whimsical vice. Muffled and shocked, a giggle tumbled out. You had never experienced this. Ever. 

In the living room the most ridiculous show of presents lay under and around the tree, ornately wrapped with bows and ribbons. Your eyes couldn’t stay fixed on one thing, darting around madly till they settled on the mantelpiece

Four stockings, hand knitted, hung from the aged wood. The first three initials were obvious, but the addition of your own made your throat close oddly. You were so included here and it felt wrong, all things considered. You felt a strong hand squeeze your shoulder, a warm look in older eyes. 

“Seems you’ve all been good,” 

“Overdone it a bit this year, Mum,” Kino snorted, taking what was clearly his spot on the floor. 

“Shut up, boy,” 

Her touch grounded you, body relaxing as you saw the nibbled goodies and drained port. The carrots however, were intact. 

“Guess Rudolph was just fine,” Sarcasm oozed, as you munched off the end of the carrot. 

Mel smiled, pulling you roughly down next to her as you were handed your stockings. Your offer of carrot was rudely rejected and you waited with bated breath to take a peek. It was heavy, and lumpy, with a toblerone resting at the top. It was all your favourites and some things far too expensive to be stocking fillers in your mind. Lipstick, chocolates and a bottle of Rum. At the very bottom, resting sadly, was a Clementine. Kino had coal. 

“Why?” It was outraged, cheeks full of chocolate coins. 

“Perhaps Father Christmas didn’t appreciate you refusing to help me with the Games room remodel,” It was quiet, muffled by coffee. 

He threw the coal at Mel, and a brawl began. You just nibbled a piece of fudge. 

It was a slow and easy start, despite the family violence, and you sat talking with Mel as you had breakfast. The order, though different to your own, had been explained. Stockings, breakfast, gifts and then a family stroll. 

A full english was slapped in front of you and you grunted. 

“We normally save ourselves for the Christmas dinner in my house,”

“Foolish,” Ambessa said, beheading a sausage, “That makes your stomach shrink and reduces your appetite,” 

Well. Fuck you I guess. Full English then. 

Back in the sitting room, each person was handed a present. 

Mel gave hers out first, swirling holly and ivy concealing presents that were so her it made you laugh. A spa holiday, for the both of you, in January. Ambessa received a collection of fancy cooking utensils and Kino received a book of mazes. 

“This seems like a gift to yourself, Babe,” You smiled, flicking through all the treatments she’d bought, “Will I have any body left after it's cleaned and dissolved?”

“It’ll cleanse you of all your impurities,” Her gaze darted to an obvious place. 

“Gee, Thanks,” 

There was lots to get through and it seemed that they had refined patience with it that you did not possess. You had never seen this many gifts at once and wanted to eviscerate them to find the treasures beneath. Kino chucked another couple things each person’s way, some from Father Christmas, some from him. 

He’d only gone and bought you a real tiara. Rich people are so fucking stupid. It sat proudly on your head all the same, swarovski crystals catching the light of the tree. 

“Regal, your highness,” He bowed his head, eyes crinkled with joy. 

“Twat,”

Father Christmas had been generous indeed, showering you with books and clothes and trinkets. You were a bit overwhelmed, dazed fingers stroking over jumpers and shoes as the Medardas continued to rip into the mountain. A sea of wrapping paper rested over your legs, warm and shiny as Ambessa drank an unholy amount of Brandy for 11am on a Wednesday. 

She chucked you a lumpy package, this one actually from her rather than her fat old man counterpart. It was a stuffed toy, a book character Tigger from Winnie the Pooh to be exact. 

“What?” You said, eyes gleaming, fingers buried in fuzziness. 

“You mentioned it was your favourite childhood book,” Her lips smacked together, “And if you’re any of them it’s the hyperactive orange thing with an individuality complex,” 

Wow. How sweet. Fuck.

“Your hat’s falling off,” You muttered to push the warmth away, passing her the gifts you’d begrudgingly bought, “These are yours,”

Ambessa took the pile, eyes murky as you watched intently for her reaction. You still needed her to like them, to like you. Mel couldn’t expect you to fall out of love that quickly. 

A rough tear, paper crumpling to reveal a blu-ray DVD. Trading Places, of course. The smile she wore changed, lips twisting as if to contain something you couldn’t see. 

“My favourite,” Her tone was far away, perhaps as trapped in the memory as you became every time you entered that room. 

“Still don’t know what it’s about,” A lie, you watched it repeatedly on your laptop in October, half drunk and sobbing, “Sure it’s good,”

“We’ll watch it together sometime,” Dear god you hoped not. 

“Okay!” It was dismissive, that was all you had, “Next one!” 

The next one in question was a Lucky cat figure who looked suspiciously like Mina, paw waving up and down rhythmically. Her laugh filled the space, hard and strong, as the lookalike summoned the feline herself. 

“It is you, Little Demon,” Ambessa whispered, “She has gifted me a VooDoo doll,”

Kino snorted, snatching Mina and peppering her with kisses, “Ignore the witch, Fluff,” 

The last gift from you she reacted to silently, a heavy gulp in her throat. A little, hand carved statue of three wolves snuggled in one another, babes and mother ornately preserved. Her smile winded you, watery for but a moment. 

The rest of the presents passed in a blur, your pile growing seemingly higher and higher until you’d forgotten half of the things. One thing that managed to stand out was Kino’s ridiculous gift to Ambessa; apparently her 9th wolf shirt, this one covered in a howling wolf with the word ‘Alpha' in icy block lettering. 

She seemed, confusingly, to favour this above all other gifts as if it were a priceless relic. Mel, bundled in a new dressing gown from Damson Madder, seemed totally unsurprised. 

Thankfully, that heralded the end of the gifts, and you were all given twenty minutes to get dressed and ready for the walk. As they shuffled out of the living room, a calloused hand gripped your arm to keep you in place. Ambessa, brown envelope in hand, looked down at you. 

“Everything alright?” 

“This is your last gift, Dear,” The rough paper slipped into your hand, the other hand still holding your arm. 

Panic. Curiosity. A fluttering, harsh pull in your stomach. “What is it?”

“Open it,” She was earnest, no teasing, eyes softer than you’d ever seen. 

Doing as instructed, you pulled out several pieces of paper. Trade invoices. Heating, Foundational, Pipe, Roof, and some stuff you didn’t even understand. 

“It’ll be completed by the 6th,” Honeyed words, caring, daggers to your heart, “You deserve to enjoy this holiday, and your studies, without the burden of such things,”

You were stammering, eyes cloudy with salt water, as trembling fingers moved through each document. She’d solved years of problems with the flick of an ornate wrist, a trump card of good will she was giving up wielding in favour of giving you privacy. This was no bribe, there was no motive here that you could see, she had done it just because it would help you. 

Ambessa was feeling a tad dizzy. Indulgence in brandy and emotional niceties leaving her reeling. You had been perfect all morning, a cocktail of wonder and sarcasm that swirled her mind harder than any drink could. Each reaction a glance or gasp to be cherished, her chest warm as you ended up in a tidal wave of wrapping. Each moment in your presence seemed more tenuous, but she could not fight the need for her next fix. It was a cruel trick, one she deserved, the way you had seemed to curl around her spine and crush it with a grin. Each attempt to slot into Mel’s rules felt like the loss of a limb. She had lost this fight, in more ways than one. 

“Ambessa,” It was a croak, the very light of the sun caught in your eyes, “Thank you!”

“No quip about presumptive rich people?” She said, thumb stroking along your forearm, “No class conscious rant?”

A giggle, more silly than you wished, as your damp eyes rolled, “You’ve just saved my life, my childhood home, that’s what you bastards should be doing,” 

“Seems I’m learning yet another thing from you then,” 

An embrace, rushed and harsh, to prevent the kiss dancing across your lips. She was awful and perfect and you hated her. “I’m going to go get dressed,” 

She wished you wouldn’t leave, perhaps ever, to allow her to linger in the aftermath of Christmas morning when it was just you and the fire and tender, crushed skin on skin. The moment ended all the same, and she sat on her armchair with a loud grunt. 

The walk was nicer than you’d anticipated, Kino and Ambessa smashing snow at each other as Mel quietly spoke in your direction. Today had felt lighter with her, some tension drained by the closeness of the night before. She’d gotten angry again, called you a few names, and nuzzled into your arms. Her grievances came in waves, as did most of her thought processes, and you didn’t mind the repetitiveness for each time you gained a small chunk back. 

Which is why, as she told you about Jayce and Viktor’s new idea, you did not notice the solid mass flying towards your face. Kino stood, eyes wild, gathering another bundle. 

There was war after that, plain and simple. 

At quarter to two you stumbled back through the French doors, hair damp and lip quivering from cold as Ambessa tugged a triumphant Mel through the door. 

“You can’t contain me just because you lost,” She growled, pulling against her mother’s hold. 

You avoided the conflict, darting upstairs and diving into the hot shower with such urgency you still had your koala socks on. Fancy shampoo and conditioner pushed away the grime of the outside as your forehead lent against the cool tile. This Christmas, though only half way through, had rocked your world. Ambessa Medarda creating an almost dreamlike, unattainable level of Christmas magic seemed ridiculous. Though, you supposed, she had always been good with grandness and negligent of day to day. You hadn’t needed a summer affair to figure that out. That knowledge did nothing to banish her soft eyes from your mind, that silly bloody Santa hat frizzing up her greying curls, as she did the best thing she’d ever done for you. Fuck her. In every way. Dangerous Path. Cold water smacked you back to Christmas day. 

Rictus, sweet angel that he was, had prepared everything and left it in the fridges. All you four needed to manage was timing, and you overconfidently presumed that was a sure bet. None of you, it seemed, had factored in a shitfaced game of Cluedo. 

“It was Mustard, in the Library, with the pipe,” Kino spoke into a highball glass, whisky half his lifeblood at present. 

“You’re Mustard, you twat,” Mel smacked him in the head, crunching a handful of twiglets. 

Ambessa had long since given up engaging, lent against the sofa with a grin as she met your gaze. As an only child you were not used to any kind of bickering over board games, making this confusing and tiring in equal measure. A sparkling, unknown cocktail sat in a gin glass in front of you. Unbeknownst to you, it contained over five shots of alcohol, hidden by sweet tea and cranberry juice. You may not have known, but by God could you feel it. 

A thick smokey scent wafted towards you mid gulp and hazy eyes widened. 

“The turkey!” You and Mel cried, scrambling to rescue a half scorched bird. 

So, it wouldn’t be the juiciest Turkey Crown you’d ever eaten, but the rest of it was salvageable. Namely because you all camped out in the kitchen from that moment onward, checking every five minutes for slowly roasting carrots and stuffing on the off chance they burnt within seconds. 

Candles of ivory and emerald glittered along the table as you took your place next to Mel. Your minorly fucked up feast had been served, your blood alcohol level begging for some kind of mass to soak up the metric tonne of vodka you’d ingested. It was good, great even, and yet you felt an odd emptiness. You hadn’t missed your Dad yet, and here it came, hurtling like a freight train into your roast dinner. Pushing peas around your plate like a petulant child, you munched at your inner cheek instead. 

She shouldn’t care that you weren’t eating, you were an adult and could look after yourself. Didn’t stop her own chews from slowing to halt as she scanned you. Your mouth twitched, eyes pensive, she hated it. Her eyes managed to catch yours, echoing a question and a comfort in one, heart hammering as your shoulders visibly relaxed and you ate a potato. Good. That was good. 

She seemed to smell weakness in you like a shark trailing blood, though she wielded this knowledge in a nicer way now. You felt an odd puncture, perhaps a lung giving out, as she grinned at you and ate a stuffing ball. 

Mel was drawing noughts and crosses in her left over gravy, your fingers fighting an equal battle in which a stalemate was always reached. The game sort of became impossible to win if both participants were over five years old, but it made you smile all the same. 

5pm rolled around, and with it your Dad’s phone call. It was brief, impersonal and hollow until you reached the news about the house. He knew, of course, as it was his fucking house but you blubbered excitedly all the same. He praised you for making good connections and you frowned. God he always had to be a knob. The call ended quickly after that and you wandered into the Cinema, flopping on Mel. 

“Call go okay?” Her fingers stroked hair from your face. 

“He’s a penis,” 

“Bailey’s Hot chocolate?” She already had a large, reindeer covered mug to offer you, cream and marshmallows floating like little life rafts. 

Perhaps this was the best Christmas of your life, and perhaps that filled you with a gaping despair unlike anything you’d ever known. Ambessa collapsed next to you and Mel, pulling you in close. Always there, mending and mutilating your soul. 

“Well,” She kissed Mel’s crown, “How has the day been my little wolves?”

“Good, Mum,” A loud slurp, “Best in a long time,” 

“Best I’ve ever had,” You admitted, uneasy and grateful. 

Both Medarda women kissed your cheek, the tactical manoeuvre from both sides crushing you. 

“Thanks by the way,” It felt like too little a sentence, brain blurred. 

“You are most welcome, Dear,” Ambessa gave you more soft eyes and calm grins. What the fuck did Christmas do to her?

“Play a game of Uno?” Mel interjected, the food and fizz in her system making her fidgety. 

“No more games,” You whined, “Game brain is dead,” 

“What then?”

“Well, I say I want to watch the Polar Express,” She pulled a blanket over her knees, yelling for Kino. 

“He’s out cold, food coma,” You muttered. 

“Little shit, he avoids this film every year,” 

“He doesn’t like Tom Hanks, Mum,” 

“And that’s my problem, why?” 

“Because you’re asking him to watch a film starring Tom Hanks?” You snipped obnoxiously. 

Ambessa immediately withheld the Celebrations tin she had been offering, smacking your fingers to drop the Twix, “Sarcastic children don’t get mini chocolates,” 

Mel munched happily on a Mars bar, your title of golden child stolen. 

Christmas came to a close slowly, the day fluttering shut in time with your weary eyelids. Your room was piled with things, but only Tigger made it to your bed. His inquisitive eyes seemed to know exactly how you felt about his giver, and you had to shove his face into your shoulder. 

“Shut up,” You slurred, to an inanimate object like a normal person, “I’ve got a good thing going here, she won’t ruin it,”

“Sure she won’t,” Tigger answered. Fuck, okay you were already asleep. 

Boxing Day passed in a blur, as did the dateless, insignificant days that led to New Year’s Eve. The new, slippery dance continued. Mel watched your interactions with her mother less, shoulders settling slightly, though a sharpness remained when you weren’t looking. 

New Year’s Eve arrived, and with it Another Bloody Party (shocker). 

“How can you be surprised?” Mel muttered, tugging on your hair, “You said yourself this is all rich people do,” 

“It’s different living it Babe,” You grumbled, “It’s exhausting, how do you manage?”

“Oh, well I-”

“Oh that’s right, none of you have jobs,” 

The heat of the curling iron became intimately acquainted with your ear. Mel kissed it better, sarcastically, as she finished the curl. “I have a job,”

“Uh..no you don’t,”

“Well I will when uni’s over,” Mel muttered, “I’ll make a name for myself,” 

“Is that name Medarda?�� You really needed to stop antagonising the person holding the hot rod of metal to your skull. 

One thing was different this time round and that was the host. The Kirammans hosted New Year’s annually apparently, the party larger than even Ambessa’s summer barbeque. Having not yet had the privilege of seeing a different large house, you experienced shock and awe anew. It was more regal than Ambessa’s home, ornate marbles mingling with old tiling. It felt sterner in a way, though its occupants were far from that. Like a scene in a film, limousines flooded in and out, showcasing tottering heels and tailored suits. 

“Now,” Ambessa’s voice was a whispered grumble, “Best behaviour, I don’t want you lot embarrassing me,” 

Your face contorted, as did theirs, “What?”

“I’m joking darlings,” She squeezed you all, “I don’t give a shit about these people,”

“Said that rather loud, Mum,” Kino quipped. 

“Intentional, sweet boy,” 

Newness danced in every corner, Cait ready to grab you and shove her into every decorated crevice of her house. Cassandra Kiramman was far more blunt about keeping your group out of the way than Ambessa, gifting a whole wing of the house to your antics. There stood possibly every person aged 20-26 that Caitlyn had ever looked at in her life. Your inner circle were lounging, glittery and already a bit pissed, around a fucking conversation pit sofa. An actual, real inbuilt one. Nothing mattered for the two hours or so, cocktails and canapes shoved down you as you listened to Ekko explaining some physics thing that made you feel like an Egyptian having their brain removed. 

A girl, tanned with glossy blonde hair, had been making eyes at you for the better part of an hour and you were beginning to crumble under the pressure. She was hot, sure, but she wasn't her. Though, another few glasses down, you realised that might be a good thing. 

“Talk to her,” Viktor whispered, poking you in the side with his cane. Jayce showed his enthusiastic agreement through a scotch egg, making himself choke. 

Your version of the heimlich manoeuvre was to smack him as Ekko did the actual heimlich, before swaying up to the pretty girl batting her lashes. 

To say she was bored would have been the understatement of the century for Ambessa. Cassandra was less prone to recreational drugs and sordid corners, leaving her to discuss carpet swatches with Jayce’s mother. She was a kind woman, entirely not to Ambessa’s taste and the removal of the youngsters meant she couldn’t bother you. Or watch you from across every damn room you existed in. There wasn’t enough Moet to drown out the drivel and by quarter to eleven she was slinking away to find her drunk children. 

Cadence, you had learned her name was, was an angel. Bubbly, bright and tipsy, she made for a fantastic conversation partner. It was lame to ponder how you hadn’t even considered anyone other than Ambessa romantically, so you let her touch your arm fondly and press herself into your side on the armchair. She studied psychology at Durham and would soon be going to America for a work placement. What’s the psychology of searching for your best friend’s mother in every crowded room, you wondered? She was talking your ear off when your eyes found the very woman in your mind. 

Ambessa did not feel angry. It was a slight twinge, too much carbonation, a high pitched thrum against her sternum. What a pretty little blonde, all cosied close and eating up all your attention. How lovely for you. This is what parties were for, a fantastic meet cute to tell the grandkids. Shut up. Your face was relaxed, glossy lips parted in an easy smile. It wasn’t the same as the smile she caused of course, less genuine, less involuntary. She could tell, there wasn’t the slightest twitch to your cheek, and your posture was distant, eyes elsewhere. Eyes on..oh. Eyes on her. A slow wave, pulling her smile from you as you attempted poorly to split focus. You looked sinful, lent against a leather armchair with smooth, soft legs crossed. Images flashed through Ambessa, her head between your thighs as your nails gripped the leather for dear life or you curled in her lap rambling as she peppered your face with lipsticked kisses. A half hearted swallow, her mind a desperate tailspin of lust, jealousy and the unnamed other. Her hand rose slightly, golden eyes drilling into you as a hand began to subtly call you over. 

Sharp, angry nails sliced into her wrist, killing the summons. 

Mel stood, a sickly smile on her face, crushing her mother’s wrist. 

“Hello, Dear,” Ambessa smiled, fighting the twitch of her brow, “Was coming looking for you little wolves,” 

“Can you come to the loo with me,” Mel said, tipsy slur in her voice, “These heels are fucking my ankles,” 

WIth a nod, taking most of her body weight, she wandered off to the bathroom with her daughter. It was dark blue, much like the kitchen and the library and the Kiramman child’s hair, causing a giggle from Ambessa. 

Once the heavy metal lock clinked shut, she lent against the door with her eyes averted. Several beats passed with no noise save their breath. 

“Are you going to piss or what child?” 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Sadness, fury, resentment all rolled into one. Her beautiful hair was a halo for her anger, body a brick wall of frustration. 

“Excuse me?” It was a scoff, muscled arms crossed, “Did I not help you here?”

“Why won’t you leave her alone, Mum,” Mel stood toe to toe with her, dark eyes blazing, “She’s listened and tried and is taking all the shit I give her, but you,” 

A lecture was coming, stormy and vicious, one Ambessa may not survive. Here she thought it was girly toilet bonding time. No, you had interloped into another part of her life. 

“You,” She repeated, “Continue on like she’s one of your little things, like I haven’t said anything at all,” 

“I resent that,” Ambessa said, frown on her lips, “I’ve been civil and supportive, but distant just like you asked,”

“Distant in the way the iceberg was to the Titanic,” Mel snapped, swaying slightly. “Do you want to destroy her? Destroy me?” 

“Mel, I-” 

“I gave you rules for a reason, and you just don’t give a shit, do you?” Her hands were waving about wildly now, “You can’t bear being told no, respecting boundaries, listening to others,” 

“I thought I was doing as you asked, Child,” Her words were thunderous, form shaking with a terror Mel could not see. She was too close for comfort, a dog sniffing a trail she did not want followed. 

“Bullshit!” Mel’s thoughts were a slurry, a piece of the puzzle missing, “You gaze at her in every room, you touch her whenever you can, you steal any time with her you can get and-”

“That is enough,” Her lungs were beginning to ache, palms sweaty, “I do not need to be lectured by you again over insecure, inflated claims,” 

“You don’t get to tell me to be quiet, Mother,” She spat, “Explain yours-” Oh. Oh. Everything stilled, the picture shifting till it clicked. She had all the pieces, of course she did, she’d just confused a middle piece for a harmless corner component. 

Ambessa’s relief at her daughter’s sudden silence was crushed like a nut between a novelty nutcracker. 

“You’re in love with her,” Check.

“I-” She had named it before even Ambessa could, damned insufferable child, always too clever for her own good, her resistance a very confirmation “How ridiculous,” And Mate. 

Mel’s body shook with mirth, “You fell in love with my best friend,” 

“You are drunk and far more stupid than I gave you credit for,” 

“So what if I am drunk,” Her movements were looser now, “I’m right and You’re scared,”

“I don’t get scared,”

“I would have agreed, twenty minutes ago, but now?” Mel’s eyes met the minute tremor in her mother’s hands. 

Ambessa’s hand grips the cold, golden lock, body turning away as she let out an angry grunt. 

A repetition, cold and grounding, halted her “You fell in love with my best friend”

It felt so lovely to hear, to know, to feel. Awful to examine, gutting her like a prize salmon. This was the worst evening of Ambessa Medarda’s life. She was at odds here, pulled in terrible directions. The horrible, sordid truth was undeniable, complicating a messy story by adding an Act Three twist of predictable but no less epic proportions. Her daughter’s eyes were steady and stern despite her sway, any battle she put forward dissolving into sparks against Mel’s measured smile. Vulnerability was the only way forward, resistance gone, a mother’s love twisting her tongue towards painful truths, “I-I didn’t plan to, darling,”

It fell on deaf ears, “And she is in love with you right back,” 

“Unfortunately,” Ambessa choked, body tight.

Mel sat precariously on the bathtub, pulling a miniature from between her boobs and downing it, “This simplifies things,” 

“It does?” 

A loud knock, and indistinct whining from behind the door. 

“Fuck off, There are twenty two toilets in this house” Mel shouted, flicking the empty bottle into the tiny bin, before turning back to her, “And yes, yes it does,”

“Do enlighten me,” She snarked, wondering if she could magically summon tequila from her own chest. 

“Love I can begrudgingly figure out, it matters,” Her teeth kissed her tongue, “But what do you offer her?”

“Sorry?” Words were precious currency to Ambessa at present, unable to grapple with the situation she had stumbled into.

“She makes you an infinitely better person, whilst assimilating to your lifestyle,” A heavy breath, “But you’re an older, emotionally impotent bitch with a history of ruining every romantic relationship you’ve ever been in,” 

Jesus fucking Christ. “Are you hazing me in the Kiramman’s bathroom about my eligibility?”

“Yes,” Mel quipped, “Someone has to, if you’re going to start dating,”

“I never said I have any intention of doing such a thing,” Ambessa growled, “She’s over twenty years my junior, and your friend,” 

A giggle, “You didn’t give a shit about either of those things when you were fucking her,”

“Well that’s,”

“Different, is it? Why?”

“This is ridiculous, I don’t have to listen to this,”

“You do, if you want to keep a relationship with me,”

“Are you going to lord that over my head for the rest of my life?” A crimson sneer deepened, “Isn’t it tiresome?”

“What’s tiresome is you being avoidant,” Mel glared at her, arms crossing, “Selfish? Manipulative? Common tools of the Medarda trade, but this cowardly denial is embarrassing,”

“I am not a coward,” It was a sudden burst, body rushing forward to meet hers.

“Prove it then, you idiot,” A nail stabbed into Ambessa’s chest, “Prove that it’s real, that you can offer her more than money and sex,” 

“But why?” Her mouth was dry, “What’s your goal here?”

“I want to see you happy,” She sighed, level gaze eating Ambessa’s soul, “The woman before me is entirely new, better than I thought possible, if it takes encouraging this to keep her then I’ll write your damn love notes for you,” 

“We are not having this conversation now,” Sense returned, sludgy and damp, dirtied by her emotions, “We will have it sober, at some point tomorrow,” 

“You’re not pushing this away,” The nail dug deeper, “It’s now or never, tell me why I should let you date my best friend,”

Ambessa’s mind was a dark red blanket of rage and panic, hand crushing around her daughter’s wrist, “What do you want from me?” 

“Say anything!”

“Like WHAT? Like I miss the weight of her on my chest as I sleep, the relief of knowing she’s safe,” She was shaking, a furious animal fighting against a certain fate, “Or th-that she makes me want to be the better version of myself that she sees, just to keep that smile on her stupid, soft fucking face,”

Mel’s hand moved upwards and reached out, a tender stroke on her mother’s cheek, “Perfect, Mum,” 

With that it seemed she had deemed the interaction over, leaving her stunned and rabid as she slipped out of the blue room in search of Jayce, or Viktor, or most likely both. 

You were struggling to socialise now, brain lagging against the alcohol and noise, longing for the quiet weed fuelled haze of the Medarda games room. Cadence had clocked your distant lack of interest before you did, wandering off and leaving you with a rambling Powder. Her and Ekko truly were a match made in heaven. It was nearly midnight and the party was so vibrant your eyes ached. 

Time to hide, time to be anti-social. Nobody to kiss, nobody you wanted to anyway. 

Confusing corridors, long and ornate, as you slipped under a secluded marble staircase. Deep, soothing breaths, the darker lighting a balm. 

Ambessa found that splashing her face with cold water was doing absolutely nothing. A dam she could not rebuild had burst and it was merciless, yearning for one thing and one thing alone. You were a siren, sent to kill her, sent to punish her. You were an angel, her salvation. Uncertain steps stormed out of the room, wandering aimlessly towards the party.

The countdown, though far away now, was as audible as if Vi was screaming in your ear. 

10

What an odd year to be seeing the back of, everything changed and everything the same. 

9

Glitter coated your skin as you made your resolution, firm and sure. 

8

You would move on from Ambessa Medarda, even if it killed you. She would not follow you into this new chapter. 

7

You emptied your champagne glass, peace settling in you. 

6

Ambessa flung the door open, hinges trembling, as she looked down the long corridor. 

5

Countdown time already? How long had she spent in that fucking bathroom?

4

The fabric of her trousers swished as she slipped towards the staircase, seeking a darker solace. 

3

A resolution, a stupid tradition, a propeller forward. She would tell you how she felt, even if it killed her. 

2

Shocked eyes lock, room spinning, dark alcove shielding them from reality.

1

Time slows. A war fought valiantly, lost to the hazy fog. Clashing, hungry, yearning lips. Red on smooth gloss. Hair tugged, breath stolen. 

Happy New Year!

[deliciousangelfestival]

Unexpected Trip

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Some people think you're too good for Bucky, who they see as just a nobody. Little do they know the backstory of both of you from 5 years ago.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!" The cheery chorus filled the sunny garden as friends and neighbors gathered around. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the table was adorned with a colorful array of treats.

Your son, Tommy, was wide-eyed with wonder at the commotion, his little hands clapping together with glee.

You knew he was too young to remember this day, but the joy on his face was enough to make every moment worthwhile.

Bucky, your husband, stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he watched Tommy's excitement. "Can you believe he's already three?" you said, leaning over to Bucky, who nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy.

"I know, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Time really does fly."

As Tommy blew out the candles on his cake, the guests cheered, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm so glad we decided to have this party," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Even if he won't remember it, we will."

You smiled, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness. "Me too," you said, watching Tommy's delighted face. "Here's to many more birthdays filled with love and laughter."

As you, Bucky, and Tommy were lost in your own world of celebration, the neighbors, known gossips of the neighborhood, couldn't resist whispering among themselves.

"I heard she got promoted to become the Director," murmured Mrs. Jenkins, a woman known for her keen interest in everyone's business, her eyes darting over to where you and Bucky stood.

Mrs. Thompson, a perpetually nosy neighbor, chimed in eagerly, "Wow, I knew she's a career woman since the first time I met her." Her voice carried a tone of admiration mixed with a hint of envy.

Standing nearby, Mr. Wilson, a retired gentleman with a penchant for spreading juicy tidbits, leaned in conspiratorially. "And she has a perfect house-husband," he added with a knowing nod in Bucky's direction.

The fourth neighbor, Mrs. Patel, a woman with a sharp tongue and a love for scandal, couldn't resist joining the conversation. "I don't want to sound rude, but she's too good for Bucky. He's just a nobody," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Mrs. Jenkins leaned closer, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock. "And guess what?" she whispered, drawing the others in.

"What?" Mrs. Thompson asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued.

"I heard a rumor that Bucky used to be a driver, like a courier," Mrs. Jenkins revealed,l.

Mrs. Patel gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Omg! And he met Y/N? He hit the jackpot!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she had just uncovered a scandalous secret.

Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I think in Bucky's previous life he saved a universe," he joked, adding to the whimsical nature of the gossip.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky remained oblivious to the whispers behind you, too engrossed in Tommy's joyous laughter as he played with his friends. Bucky had his arm around you, pulling you closer, unaware of the drama unfolding in the background.

Little did the gossiping neighbors know, they were 10% right, at least when it came to the part about Bucky saving someone.

You see, Bucky wasn't just a nobody. He wasn't just a regular driver. To be precise, it all goes back to five years ago.

5 Years Ago

You had just arrived in Russia, alone and shivering from the cold. This wasn't a holiday trip; it was for business.

Unfortunately, your luck had run out, and you were the chosen one sent by your less-than-friendly manager, who knew the bid was a long shot. You were the scapegoat.

It wasn't until you were on the plane, reading the documents, that the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.

Shaking with cold, you reached for your phone and dialed your colleague. "Is there someone to pick me up at the airport?"

"You've arrived? I almost forgot. I suppose someone should be waiting for you. Check to see if there's a sign with your name at the exit gate," came the reply before the call abruptly ended.

"Huh?" You couldn't believe it. The company had tossed you out like yesterday's news, leaving you stranded like a lost child in a foreign country.

"I swear, if I had a lot of money, I'd buy the company's shares and fire every single one of them," you grumbled to yourself, dragging your small suitcase behind you toward the exit gate, uncertain of what awaited you.

As you approached, you spotted a person holding a sign. You gathered your resolve and approached them, saying, "Hi, it's me."

You finally took a good look at the person holding your name sign. He was pretty tall and muscular for a driver, more suited to be a bodyguard.

With a swift motion, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, you couldn't help but think, "Damn, he's fine."

He pointed towards your suitcase. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.

"Huh? Oh yeah," you replied, momentarily distracted by his good looks.

"Follow me," he said simply, then turned and walked ahead.

You hurried to catch up, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. This wasn't the welcome you expected, but you followed him nonetheless.

After a quick walk, the two of you stopped in front of a black BMW. The design of the car felt straight out of the '90s.

"Get in," Bucky said, opening the backseat door.

You complied, noticing that your driver seemed to be a man of few words. "Um, what's your name?" you asked as you fastened your seatbelt.

"Bucky. Bucky Barnes," he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he started the car.

Then, glancing at the rearview mirror, he added, "Always watch your back."

"What? What do you mean?" you asked, a hint of unease creeping into your voice.

Bucky shifted gears and increased the speed. "Just in case," he said cryptically, his focus on the road ahead.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of mystery surrounding Bucky. As the car smoothly glided through the streets of Russia, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of business you had genuinely stepped into.

Bucky glanced at you through the rearview mirror as the car continued its swift journey through the city. "You came here without knowing anything?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I knew that other countries also put a bid on this project," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

"True," Bucky acknowledged. "Do you know what kind of representatives the other countries sent here too?"

Your voice turned into a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Not like me?"

Bucky's eyes flicked to the side mirror, noticing a few cars trailing behind them. " And they've arrived too," he confirmed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.

Feeling a surge of panic, you turned around to look out the rear window. "Oh, shit," you muttered under your breath.

There was a group of cars following behind you both, and their windows opened. Someone appeared with a gun pointed at your car.

Bucky shifted gears again, the car picking up speed. "Don't bite your tongue, Miss Y/N," he said calmly, his focus unwavering on the road ahead.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation. The cars following them meant trouble; you were right in the middle. Gripping the door handle tightly, you braced for whatever was to come, grateful that Bucky knew what he was doing.

The chase was like something out of a movie, but the fear gripping your heart was all too real. The car Bucky drove was bulletproof, a small comfort in the chaos unfolding around you.

"KYAAA!"

Yet, despite the safety of the car, you couldn't shake off the primal fear that clawed at your chest. This was the first time you had ever found yourself in such a dangerous situation, and the adrenaline surged through your veins.

"Oh god, oh god," you muttered, your voice filled with panic as you clutched onto the door handle, your knuckles turning white.

Bucky, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. His hands moved expertly over the steering wheel, navigating through the narrow streets with precision. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.

You could hear the sound of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the car's armored exterior. The world outside seemed to blur as Bucky weaved in and out of traffic, the pursuing cars hot on your tail.

"What do we do? What do we do?" you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Trust me," he said cryptically, before reaching for a button on the dashboard.

With a click, the back of the car transformed. Panels shifted, revealing an array of weapons hidden within. Your eyes widened in disbelief as a gun turret emerged from the rear of the car, whirring to life.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, both terrified and amazed at the same time.

Bucky didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the car expertly, aligning the gun turret with the pursuing vehicles. With a press of a button, the turret unleashed a barrage of bullets, hitting the cars behind you with precision.

The sound of metal tearing and tires screeching filled the air as the pursuing vehicles swerved and crashed, their drivers no match for the firepower of Bucky's car.

You watched in awe and horror as the scene unfolded behind you, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe this," you whispered, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Bucky remained focused, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Welcome to the world of high-stakes business, Miss Y/N," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

As you both sped away from the gunfire, the intensity of the moment left you breathless. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you wonder how Bucky could remain so calm, and how his car seemed to be designed for situations like this.

"Bucky, are you really just a driver?" you asked, your voice filled with astonishment and curiosity.

Bucky, focused on the road ahead, replied without missing a beat. "Most of the time I work as a getaway driver."

"What?!" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I have a few skills up my sleeve," he said cryptically, his eyes returning to the road as he expertly navigated the streets.

You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath after the intense chase. "Huff... huff... I have to win this damn bid. I almost lost my life. If I win, I will demand a promotion, and for you too, Bucky."

Bucky chuckled. "Thank you," he replied, his laughter mixing with relief as the moment's tension dissipated

Bucky glanced at you, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You know, Miss Y/N, I'm impressed," he said, his voice tinged with respect.

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Impressed? Why?"

"Because even though you were scared out of your mind back there," Bucky explained, gesturing vaguely to the chaos that had just unfolded, "you still have the drive to win this bid. That takes courage."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, touched by his words. "Well, I don't want to go through all of this for nothing," you replied, a hint of determination in your voice.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I believe you have what it takes to succeed."

As the car continued on its journey, you felt a newfound sense of confidence swelling within you. Despite the danger and the unexpected twists, you were determined to make this business trip count. With Bucky by your side, you felt like you could take on anything that came your way.

"Thank you, Bucky," you said, gratitude evident in your voice.

He smiled, a reassuring presence beside you. "Anytime, Miss Y/N. We make a good team."

And at that moment, as the city lights blurred past the windows of the car, you knew that this business trip would be far more than just a bid. It would be an adventure, with Bucky as your unexpected ally.

🚗

After you won the bid, you demanded a meeting with the CEO and threatened to sue the company if you weren't promoted.

Asserting your worth, you stood firm, and the CEO eventually relented, granting you the promotion you rightfully deserved.

As you stood in the office, your evil manager and colleague before you, the air was charged with tension. They both wore expressions of surprise and disbelief, clearly caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.

"Good afternoon," you began, your voice steady and firm. "I requested this meeting to inform you both that your employment with this company is terminated, effective immediately."

The evil manager scoffed, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You can't do that. You're just a new employee."

You met his gaze, unwavering. "Actually, as of today, I've been promoted to a position where I have the authority to make such decisions."

The lazy colleague chimed in, who answered your call at the airport. Her voice laced with disdain. "This is ridiculous. You're letting power go to your head."

You shook your head, a steely resolve in your eyes. "No, this is about accountability and integrity. Both of you have demonstrated a lack of professionalism and ethics that is unacceptable in this company. And you make me go alone knowing that the trips was a high risk."

The evil manager tried to argue, but you held up a hand to silence him. "There's no need for further discussion. Your actions have consequences, and now you're facing them."

With that, you handed them their termination letters, each neatly printed with the company seal. The evil manager's face turned red with anger, while the evil colleague's eyes widened in shock.

"This is unfair!" the evil manager shouted, his voice filled with outrage.

You remained calm, unfazed by his outburst. "It's the consequences of your own actions," you replied firmly.

Othrr colleague tried to plead for another chance, but you stood your ground. "I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," you said, your tone resolute.

As they gathered their things and left the office, the weight of their absence felt like a burden lifted from their shoulders. You watched them go, feeling a sense of relief and empowerment.

🚗

One day, the memories of Russia tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself longing to return, this time for a personal visit to see Bucky. With determination, you booked a flight and arrived at his apartment.

Bucky greeted you warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Miss Y/N," he said with genuine happiness.

"Bucky," you replied, matching his smile. "I couldn't resist coming back to see you."

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. "I wanted to thank you," you began, gratitude filling your voice. "For everything. You were there for me in Russia, and I couldn't have done it without you."

Bucky's expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "It was my pleasure. You showed courage and determination. I was just glad to be a part of it."

"I wanted to ask," you continued, gathering your courage, "if you would consider coming with me. With my promotion, I have the opportunity to lead new projects, and I can think of no one better to have by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your offer. After a moment of contemplation, a smile slowly spread across his face. "I would be honored," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I believe we make a good team."

Bucky smiled warmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he grabbed his car keys and jacket. "To celebrate, let me pay for tonight's dinner. My treat," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but feel gratitude and happiness at his offer. "That sounds wonderful." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

That's how the love story between you and Bucky started.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[moonstruckme]

whimsical muggle reader who loves taking note of strange occurrences (i swear my shoes weren't here! like luna basically lol) and marauder bf who can't tell her yet about magic but loves doing some tricks for her to find. (you can pick which marauder! i was gonna go remus but i'm biased lol)

Omg I had so much fun with this, thank you for requesting!

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 657 words

“You’re such an old woman, Moony,” Sirius says. “Is that a gray hair I see?” 

“Your fault,” Remus replies mildly. 

“We’re not all obligated to go clubbing whenever the fancy strikes you,” James argues on Remus’ behalf. “I’ve got a match tomorrow, and our poor Moony’s head is hurting him. Give us a rest.” 

“No rest!” Sirius cries, standing from the couch as if he’s addressing a weary army rather than two reluctant men. “Rest is for the elderly and geriatric.” He looks at you hopefully. “You want to go out, don’t you darling?” 

“I’m not partial to clubs,” you reply, but your attention is already elsewhere. “Remus, if you have a headache, you should have Sirius make you some of his tea. He made me some when my head hurt last week and it set me right as rain.” You glance at your boyfriend, considering you with peculiar smugness. “And the same happened when I had the hiccups a few days ago. He has a remedy for everything.” 

James cocks an eyebrow. “Does he?” 

You hum in prideful affirmation, but Sirius seems almost sheepish as he sits back down on the couch, tucking you against his side. “I’ve always been good at brewing,” he says to James with a shrug. 

“You should make him your tea,” you urge softly. 

Sirius kisses the side of your head. “Moony’s headaches are a bit tougher than yours, angel,” he says, adding at your troubled look, “but I’ll make him some later if he likes.”

“Hey,” James says brightly, “what if we go to the pub on fifth? It’s usually quiet in there. We’ll just stay an hour or so.” 

You’ve been dating Sirius long enough to know how this goes with his friends—one hour will turn into four before any of them notice—but nod complaisantly at the hum of assent that goes up from the other boys. 

“Let’s go.” Sirius hops back up before anyone can change their minds. He grabs your coat from the hook by the door, holding it out for you. 

“Oh.” Your mood sinks slightly as you remember your coat. “I should probably go get another from my room. I tore that one yesterday, remember?” 

“I fixed it for you.” 

Sirius gives it a shake, signaling for you to take it from him. You do, looking at him in awe. 

“Really, Siri? That’s so nice of you.” You feel along the hem of your jacket in search of the split you’d made the day before. You can’t find it, nor any of the smaller blemishes the garment had acquired after years of wear. “How did you do this?” 

“I sewed it,” he says breezily, shrugging on his own well-loved leather coat. 

You run your fingers over where you could swear the tear had been. “There’s not even a line or anything.” 

Remus shoots him a look you can’t decipher, and Sirius gives you a somewhat thin-lipped smile. “What can I say? I’m magic with a needle and thread. Put your coat on, baby.” 

You realize then that all three boys are already waiting for you at the door. 

“Oh, sorry.” You carefully pull on your newly impeccable jacket, following them outside. “Thank you, Siri.” 

“Anytime,” he vows, hand finding its way into your back pocket as James leads you all to the pub. 

“You’re so good at fixing things,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “My coat, and when you glued my mug back together so well, and when my peperomia came back to life.” 

Sirius chuckles. “It didn’t come back to life, angel.”

“It was dying,” you reason. “I couldn’t get it to stop wilting, but then all of a sudden it perked up.” 

“You must’ve nursed it back to health,” he replies, and his tone is blasé but the smile he shoots you is oddly pleased. He gives your ass a playful squeeze. “Stranger things have happened, sweet thing.” 

Around Sirius, they certainly have.

[celestialtarot11]

Astrology Observations 🤍✨

Hi friends! Welcome back to another post 💅🏻 today we’ll be looking at astro observations! Please like, comment and reblog to help this blog grow ✨

Aries + Taurus pairing as friends/couple are the show stoppers. They draw attention wherever they go, there’s so much fire between them. Although Taurus is an Earth sign, Taurus does enjoy the finer things in life and passion! Aries helps to bring the heat in the connection and the two have a lot in common. Aries is headstrong, Taurus is as well. Both are self starters and independent. Both know what they want (taurus is a fixed sign) and both know what it takes to create + sustain it.

Aquarius sun experienced being the quiet one in group settings, especially if they were with people they didn’t necessarily understand or get along with. Its not that they aren’t smart, or capable of human interaction. They’re actually great at it, they just preserve their energy for better people/interactions.

Gemini’s love to story tell and embellish their stories! They love adding jokes, flare, and drama to their stories. They’re a bit like Leo-great at storytelling and communicating! Both Leo and Gemini love to entertain 🤍✨

Transits in your 4th house-family will require your attention more, and specifically the Mother could be around a lot more. Physically, emotionally and mentally even if you may not have a great connection. She may try to wiggle her way in your life during these 4th house transits. If you work with ancestors, they will be sending you dreams and messages day to day even more than usual. Expect the things that you need to liberate yourself from will come up in dreams, or day to day. Dreaming of your childhood for example can be triggering to some, whether the dream was good or bad.

Sagittarius are often quiet but have a lot to say when in a proper group setting. They think a lot of the world around them, and I notice they like to be in situations where they can mansplain 🤣 but offering advice and mediating conversations is their specialty. They’re blunt, honest, and get to the point.

Leo women often walk with a lot of respect, flare and spirit. Their head is held high.

Cancer women love going out and love staying home! They have their homebody moments too 💅🏻 cancers love a good time! And are not stuck in their shell as ya’ll may think

Cancer women may also be the type to have fairy tattoos, or tattoos that are delicate. They have tattoos that have a whimsical charm to them, even if it may be considered “dark.” There is an ethereal vibe to it!

Virgo women love planning, decorating and getting family together! Or who they consider family. They love setting the mood, setting the atmosphere, environment. They would be great party planners/wedding planners!

Pisces women may be into cars 👀

Scorpio moon women may get into nursing at some point or considered studying that!

Gemini women may love doing their own nails, and being proud of their art! They love to show off anything that expresses their skill.

Gemini Venus women want to speak different languages but may get frustrated at the effort required 😂 as a gemini venus myself yes

Capricorn moon women may enjoy having a minimalistic setup in their room, colors that are light and simple, but with a dash of darkness or vivid color! They love creating balance in their room and have an eye for intensity through detail

Leo rising commands all the attention in the room for themselves. But I’ve noticed if a Leo rising is not feeling confident in themselves, they can come across as arrogant, and self absorbed. It’s because part of them needs their own attention and space, but the native isn’t realizing that. Or the native doesn’t know how to meet their needs.

Thank you all for being here! I really appreciate it 🥹💗 Please enjoy the little observations I put together! Feel free to like comment and reblog ✨

Paid Readings 💗✨

[alxxbee]

Ok, I just saw your redesign of Lucifer for the 2P AU you did and I honestly like it a bit better than in the show, he actually feels prideful here since purple is in fact the biblically accurate color of Pride! :D

Also making him a brunette and adding bright blues (a biblically accurate color of Sloth) as accents was a nice choice :) and the golden eyeshadow! :)

But does he still rule Hell in the AU with Alastor coming from Heaven? And what's the latter's role IN Heaven?

(I’m actually not very familiar with 2P lore if there really even is one but i’ll try))

((i also haven’t rewatched the show since it literally came out i maybe have forgor about like many things LMFAO))

(this also got deleted like twice and i’m pissed for rewriting this again)

(anyways here’s 2P Lucifer in my own interpretation)

2P Luci thrives in being alone, finding comfort and strength in it rather than misery. He doesn’t mind ruling Hell on his own. He doesn’t need anybody and doesn’t want anybody. His relationship with 2P Lilith has broken apart completely, due to their different views on redemption and the treatment of sinners. 2P Lilith is tricky since we know almost nothing of her, but i believe that she harbors a deep disdain for Hell and rejects the idea of controlling sinners for personal gain

BUUUUT something that has been in my mind recently is how he is essentially the embodiment of Pride.. but since 2P is (technically) the opposite of something (an inversion) The opposite of pride would be HUMILITY. Instead of making him a sad, insecure ruler, ..I’d like to think he thrives on human’s insecurities, fear, humiliation and self-doubt instead.. (rather than in the show he puts ON a prideful face when in reality he’s quite timid and socially awkward))

His relationship with 2PAlastor is quite decent (2P radioapple 🙂‍↕️) they still bicker but not in a hateful way like they do in the show, lighthearted jokes and banter, reflecting a mutual respect. (Lucifer knows how sensitive 2P Al is, and despite flourishing in humans despair and emotions, He has a soft spot for 2P Al.) ..Oh and they do not try to win over Charlie’s affection, ((2P Charlie actually does not really gaf about them XD))

Does not care for Heaven.. maybe even hates. but is not emotionally affected by his fall, I don’t know if Lucifer actually misses Heaven in the show, we can see how deeply affected he still is by their rejection of his creativity.

so i guess id like to think instead of him feeling hurt or betrayed(?), he feels somewhat thankful. Thankful that he was able to flourish in HIS ideas at last, finally seeing the evil of the world like he intended to.. destroying the order Heaven worked hard to maintain. Maybe he wanted Eve to bite the apple because he WANTED evil to come and corrupt the world, He knew what came with free will. He was a rebellious angel who went against Heaven in every way, intentionally with malice. Implying that Lucifer does not regret his role in giving sinners free will. He also cares for his sinners but not in a good way, more like he wants as many as possible so he could one day potentially top over heaven in power. A power hungry bastard.

He is serious, and a realist. NOT goofy and silly lmao. (Though he has goofy moments i shall not strip him of his whimsical fun entirely)

2P Lucifer and Original Lucifer share some similar qualities aswell. Something Both 2P Luce and Original Luce have in common is that they love Charlie.. and will protect her at all costs. Luci actually maintains a positive relationship with his daughter, He is close with her and tries to be in her life like a good father should, but 2P Charlie doesn’t usually give him the time of day. although she can be quite mean, and not the bubbly type at all like she is in the show, she still loves her father to a certain extent.

Again, we don’t really know much about the characters and the family’s history in the show.. And until we do, everything i said could be changed completely!! Like i said this is something for fun!! I haven’t really been thinking much about this AU, i designed him as a silly redraw but if i ever in the future add more details to his lore i will 🫶

Oh and as for the relationship with Original Alastor and 2P Luci…

Ok that’s all idk i don’t write for a reason 💀💀💀 💔

[radioapple-heathen]

My Top 10 Radioapple Fic 'Series' Recs

I've been working on this for a while. With nearly 4k fics for this ship on A03 (at the time of me writing this rec list), it can be difficult to find gems. I was really grateful for the rec lists I stumbled upon when I first joined this fandom, and I want to share the fics that have changed my brain chemistry with both newcomers and oldtimers alike. As with all rec lists, this list is completely subjective and curtailed to my tastes/preferences. I'm also sure this list will change with time as more fics get added to the fandom. As of mid-2024 though, here's where I'm at.

For background, I am an acespec 30+ married woman with ADHD raising a AuDHD child, and I appreciate fics that handle these aspects with respect and care. I've also been in fandom/writing for 20+ years, never professionally, always for fun.

My fic preferences:

I gravitate towards crisp prose that is sophisticated but not weighed down by excessive $5 dollar words. I like my fic like I like my food: digestible. The writing doesn't have to be perfect (typos and grammatical errors happen, that I can deal with) but the characterization is important to me.

I gravitate towards top!Lucifer because Alastor is a prissy little power bottom, but there are certainly exceptions to that on this list. At my core, though, I think they're switches with preferences.

I gravitate towards fics that have a nice balance of plot and romance, preferably leaning more towards the latter. I read fanfic for the relationship so if the plot supersedes the 'radioapple'-ness, I tend to find myself drifting/skimming, before giving up altogether.

I gravitate towards fics in sub <200k. Again this is an attention thing, no fault of the author, people loveee long fics. But often, even if I'm loving a fic, I'm like okay, where are we going with this? Again, some exceptions, which I'll highlight below.

I can be picky about my slow burns, like if it takes 100k to hold hands, I'll prob pass? BUT THIS IS JUST ME AND I HAVE THE ATTENTION SPAN OF A GOLDFISH AND I WANT TO FORCE THEIR HEADS TOGETHER AND MAKE THEM KISS ASAP?????

I gravitate towards genderfluid or intersex Lucifer, he's a shapeshifter and an angel, it just.. makes sense to me.

I have a preference for M or E-rated fics. I just really love the vulnerability and character development that can be explored through intimacy, especially in re: to Alastor's ace-ness. And what can I say? I wanna read about twink king getting it on with his deer man. That being said, I do have some T+ recs in my multi-chap/oneshot rec list.

Anyways. With all that said, let's get into the actual fics. Note, this isn't an exhaustive list, I could rec fics forever, there's so much talent in this fandom. These are just the ones that have altered my genetic makeup.

Top 10 Series

1.) All changed, changed utterly by @tollingreminiscentbells

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Alastor for installments 1-5. Last installment (6) it switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

This is actually my favorite radioapple fic/series in the entire fandom. This series has rendered me somehow both speechless and bursting at the seams with praise. The writing is superb, the prose is elegant, but also easy to parse. Alastor meeting Lucifer as a human (and then again, in Hell) is by far my favorite trope of this ship, and this author takes said trope and weaves it into a masterpiece. The way they write Lucifer’s character (grieved by wrongs and loss, ancient and capable and so, so loving) is such a joy. And Alastor, god. I personally find Alastor’s POV tricky to write. He is a very complex character with a very specific narration voice, whimsical and deadly and clever and emotional stunted and possessive of what's his — which in this case, is Lucifer. I will never be able to sing enough praises. It truly cemented my love for this wonderful, complex, violently loving ship.

2.) Between the Shadow & the Soul by winterveritas

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

This author will pop up several times because everything they touch is gold. I really love this take on the radioapple dynamic where Alastor is rather smitten from the start, because I feel like many fics drag him kicking and screaming into admitting he cares (mine included, no shade). But like, Winter is able to write him this way while still keeping him in-character imo, and I just... love it???

3.) Lucifer and his Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by @keelywolfe

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

You might actually be living under a rock if you haven't read this series. If that's the case, I IMPLORE YOU, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, read this series. It has one of the best Lucifer's narration voices I've ever read. Also, it has one of my favorite tropes: "slow burn but they're fucking the whole time." AND AND AND intersex!top!Lucifer, YES PLEASE???? This series also is one of my 'typical attention span for fics' exceptions because it just hit 200k, and I am still 100% invested. I could read about these two idiots forever.

4.) Wicked Game by TrashDemonX

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Not gonna lie, I went into this with the idea of just like, Smut Galore (and it is, bless), but it's actually become just a fascinating character study on Alastor. Impeccable writing, and there is currently one chapter left of part 3 AND I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR IT???? This is a top!Alastor fic but Lucifer isn't like a pillow princess, my man is involved and so for me, it works well. I can't say enough about how WELL this author writes Alastor's voice. Again, not an easy feat imo.

5.) Radioapple Broadcast by blatantblue

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Alastor for Part 1, Lucifer for Part 2, Alastor for Part 3. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: This was a positive JOY. Incredible writing and storytelling. Dom/sub undertones which is a huge plus for me, especially when Alastor is the sub. I reread this series often (and I usually am not a huge reread-er unless its been a while), but this is just a comfort fic, I think.

6.) Cataclysmic Cathechism by @wyldefire-writings

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: MPreg.

Notes:

I am about to show my entire ass right now but this series. My LORD.

Not gonna lie, MPreg was actually a squick for me before I joined this fandom/ship, but after reading this fic specifically, I'm now like, Al, my deer, my main man, knock that KoH the fuck up. Honestly, this was such a ride, and both of the boys were written SO WELL. Also, this author has the funniest A/N's I've ever had the pleasure of reading.

7. Hunger Pains by @theaffablescamp

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

Excellent writing and some very intriguing plot happening right now. Has arguably the most intense wing preening session I have ever read that legit lives rent free in my head. Another "slow burn but they're fucking the whole time" fic which is just delightful.

8.) machinations by fiveandnocents

Series: Complete. Rated: T-M. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

AHH I love this so much. Essentially, Alastor strikes up a relationship with Lucifer, as a means to manipulate him AND THE IDIOT FALLS IN LOVE UGHHH. It's chef's kiss. Spectacular characterization, this could be canon, and I'd be like yep, this happens in season 2, haha.

9.) By Name by @eunicorne

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: Gore, Consensual Murder? He regens, it's fine.

Notes:

So. I will continue to show my ass. As a note, I don't like violence/gore for violence's sake but when there are BDSM undertones and aftercare, I'm a fucking goner. This was one of my first dives into very dark aspects of radioapple, and I.. my brain chemistry has been altered by this series.

10.) imagine being loved by me by deliciously deviant

Series: In-Progress. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Notable Warnings: Gore, Consensual Cannibalism, I have never met a deader dove.

Notes:

Incredible writing and character voices BUT HOLY SHIT not for the weak or even average stomach. Again, I am soft for the whole, "I'm gonna cause you pain that you want/need to get out of your head" and I feel like I couldn't leave this rec out just bc of the content matter, but I am serious, read at your own risk.

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT. If you have any series recs of your own, feel free to share in the comments!

I also have my top 10 Multi-Chaptered (non-series) and top 10 oneshots recs list in my drafts rn, I'll be posting those in the next few days!

[starmocha]

in a gingerbread house built for two [Rafayel/Reader ★ 1921 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Home is with him. Day 01 — to: my true love (Sylus/Reader) Day 02 — do you want to build a snowman? (it doesn't have to be a snowman) (Zayne/Reader) A/N: Rafayel girlies, please accept my humble offering for this holiday season 🤲 Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia 【 request to be added 】

Slowly, just a little bit more, and…perfect!

You smiled in satisfaction as you finally managed to attach the final wall to your gingerbread house. All that was left to do was attach the roof and you could begin the fun part: decorating!

“Cutie, you have that same look on your face as when you’re grabbing plushies out of the claw machine.”

“How would you know? You never let me play…” You griped at Rafayel, taking a peek over to see his own progress with his gingerbread house. You nearly dropped the roof in shock when you saw that Rafayel had not only attached all of the parts to his house, but he had started making little decorations out of the candies and pretzel sticks on his kitchen counter. “A-are you making a ladder?”

“Well, of course,” Rafayel said as he broke a few pretzel sticks into smaller pieces. He dipped the end into some leftover white icing before using it to glue the smaller sticks to the longer one to form a ladder. “A ladder is necessary for when you need to decorate the exterior of your house for Christmas.”

“O-of course,” you said, staring at the little whimsical pretzel ladder Rafayel had just made with both admiration and envy for his creativity. You looked over to your bare house that was still missing its roof and inwardly sighed. You carefully piped some icing along the edge before you slowly lowered the roof onto the house, applying just enough pressure to secure the pieces without breaking them.

Hesitantly, you let go, relaxing as all parts of the gingerbread house seemed to be secured.

Time for the fun part.

You directed your attention to the counter where you had earlier laid out different edible items to be used for decorating the gingerbread house. There was an assortment of sprinkles in different small bowls. Some candies like peppermint, gumdrops, and little chocolate pieces awaited you. Bags of icing premixed in different colors were also ready to be used.

Late nights of staying up for hours watching gingerbread house decorating videos had given you the foresight to be as prepared as you could. You began piping along the edges, creating the image of snow on the house. As you were piping, you couldn’t help but peeked over at Rafayel’s house again, your heart dropping a little as his seemed to be on a whole different level than yours.

“H-have you ever decorated a gingerbread house before?”

“Hm?” He glanced over at you confused as he finished applying some thin chocolate wafers as shingles for the roof of his house. He shook his head. “I’ve never even held a piping bag before today.”

“R-really?” You looked at him skeptically, seeing how all of his icing was piped expertly, looking just like fresh soft snow gathered on the roof and window sills. Meanwhile yours looked a little wonky, as expected since you were trembling a little while you were piping the icing. You mumbled a little disheartened, “But they look so perfect. Must be an artist’s steady hand…”

He shrugged, amused and apparently not noticing your saddened tone. “You think so?” He glanced at his house with a small smile. He admitted softly, “I did watch a few shorts prior to this to get an idea.”

“Ah—me too!”

He laughed. “Guess Cutie and I are on the same wavelength,” he said. His eyes brightened as an idea seemed to pop into his head. “Oh, can you pass me the silver sprinkles?”

You handed him the small bowl with the glittery sprinkles, confused. “Oh—pretty…” You muttered in awe as you watched a shower of the sprinkles landing on Rafayel’s gingerbread house, making his snow looked extra sparkly just as you would see on a bright sunny day.

“What about your house?”

You were stirred out of your thoughts by Rafayel’s voice. You looked confused before he repeated his question, making you look down at your nearly bare house with despondency. “I…I don’t know what to do with it…”

He smiled gently. “That’s okay,” he reassured you, “Whatever you do with it, it will be beautiful.”

You snorted in disbelief. “Easy to say when you’re naturally artistic…”

“What was that?”

You gasped in shock when Rafayel came over and sat near you. He peered into your face with concern. “Are you alright? You seemed kind of sad right now…” He touched your chin gently, making you maintain eye contact with him. “Did I do something to upset you?”

Instantly, you felt guilty now when you noticed how worried he looked. Your shoulders slumped and you shook your head. “No, I’m sorry,” you apologized to his confusion. “It’s not you, it’s me…”

“What do you mean?”

“I was feeling a little envious and insecure…”

“Envious? About what?”

“I was just thinking how beautiful your gingerbread house looks while mine looks like a three-year-old had made it…”

Rafayel huffed in amusement. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked, “Three-year-olds are some of the most creative geniuses in the world.”

He hugged you from behind, his hands finding yours as he helped you picked up some colorful gumdrops. His face nuzzled against yours. “I think whatever you make will be more beautiful than mine. Don’t doubt yourself.”

“You’re just saying that…”

He shook his head and kissed your cheek. “I love everything that you do and make,” he said. “Why would I lie about this?”

You couldn’t help but smiled, feeling comforted by his sweet words. You noticed some dollops of icing that had landed on the counter, so you dragged your finger across some before turning to smear it on Rafayel’s cheek.

“Ah—an attack!” he declared, shocked. He sulked at you. “I can’t believe you would lure me into a trap like that. That is so sneaky of you…”

You giggled and leaned over to kiss his cheek, licking the icing off. His face turned red, the color spreading fast to his ears.

“You—”

“It wasn’t a trap,” you protested before hugging him. “Thank you…”

Rafayel peered down at the top of your head, a resigned smile slipping on his face as he hugged you back. “Feel better now?”

You looked up, bright-eyed and smiley, nodding at him with enthusiasm. Rafayel answered with his own smile before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“Then come on, let’s finish decorating before dinner.”

A comforting silence settled as the time passed with you both concentrating on your individual gingerbread house. You still stole glances at Rafayel, feeling admiration for his ability to manipulate any medium and turn them into beautiful works of art.

You looked back at your house, no longer feeling dejected. Steering away from the traditional red-and-green, you opted for a soft pastel of mint and pink, reminiscent of sweet, magical dreams of winter fairies and elves. You liked the simplicity of yours with the heart-shaped window in the center of the house made from two broken candy canes aligned together. You admired the pink and mint-colored gumdrop-shingled roof with white icicles that hung along the edge.

Along the house, you had meticulously placed different sized candies as decorations for the exterior. A few round peppermint candies here and there, and a line of candy-coated chocolate wrapped around the house. You had even found a snowman-shaped marshmallow to place in front of the house. You smiled with glee, pleased with the outcome.

“I’m done!” you declared, looking up to see Rafayel placing the final touch on his own house: a little green wreath made from icing and sprinkles for the front door.

“Me, too!” he answered with a grin. He turned to look at you, his smile widening. “Cutie, that is so adorable, just as I had expected.”

“It’s not as nice as yours,” you said with a soft smile. Rafayel immediately protested.

“What are you talking about? I never would have thought to use two candy canes to make a heart-shaped window like this,” he said, coming over to admire your gingerbread house even closer. “Ah, and making the whole house this pink and mint palette is so unique. It works really well.”

You felt your cheeks turning pink as Rafayel continued to lavish praises, showing no sign of stopping until he had complimented every single detail of your house. You playfully shoved him, laughing, “Okay, okay, I get it.”

You kissed his cheek, and this time it was his turn to blush. “Thank you,” you said, touched by his sincerity. “Let’s look at yours.”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, seemingly suddenly embarrassed. “Okay,” he answered, “But just let me say—”

“It’s adorable!” you exclaimed, interrupting him.

You stared in childlike wonder, admiring how Rafayel had made his gingerbread house into a little cottage in a snow-covered forest. All of the white icing he had piped to create snow and icicles were so expertly done, you had a hard time believing this was his first try. There were also the little details that made the scenery seemed more lifelike. From the broken chocolate crème-filled wafers that he had stacked to form “logs” for a fire, to the pretzel ladder that leaned against the house had you imagining different scenarios.

“Oh—what are those?” you pointed to the side, “They look like…us.”

Rafayel smiled sheepishly and picked up the two figurines. “I learned how to make marzipan recently,” he explained, “I thought I could maybe mold them like clay into people, so…it’s not bad for a first try, right?”

“Are you kidding me?” you stared at the figurines and then Rafayel, mouth agape, “These are so cute!”

Rafayel smiled, almost sighing in relief when he saw the joy on your face. He placed the figurines back down in front of the house, carefully and intentionally arranging them so they stood close to one another.

You noticed Rafayel’s soft expression, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. You leaned down next to him as you both admired Rafayel’s gingerbread house together at a low-viewed angle. Your eyesight took in the sweet scenery that suddenly looked so big and lifelike.

“Why did you make us?”

“It’s not a home if there’s no one living there.”

“But why did you make me, too?”

“Because my home is also where you are.”

When you looked over in surprise, Rafayel had already leaned in, taking your lips for his. You let your eyes close, giving in to his sweet kisses. When you parted, Rafayel had pulled you closer, keeping you trapped against the counter. You felt the warm heat of him from behind and the way he lightly rested his chin on your shoulder, his face so close to yours.

“They look so happy,” you told him. “What do they do all day?”

“Wellllll,” he drawled, pondering, “They would take walks in the forest together.”

You hummed in agreement. “And then what?”

“When they would come home, mini-Rafayel would make a fire to keep mini-Cutie warm.”

You laughed at his description. “And mini-Cutie would make hot cocoa for mini-Rafayel and her to enjoy by the fire together.”

Rafayel nuzzled his cheek against yours. “Right, how did you know?”

“I know you.”

You turned and grabbed his face with both hands before you placed another kiss on his lips. You gasped gently against his mouth, your forehead resting against his, voice soft and breathless. “And then what happens…”

“And then…” Rafayel looked back at you, his eyes appearing more heated. He smiled. “They lived happily ever after together.”

[anaugust]

Gale is here!

I do want to make redesigns for the main bg3 characters - not because I dislike their designs, but because I like putting characters I love in cute clothing inspired by historical fashion.

I decided to start with Gale, although I already have sketches and some lineart for the rest of them.

EDIT:

I'm adding some thoughts I had when designing him because he is the only one without any description lol

I'm glad people like the shoes I gave him! They were inspired by jesters. That's for talking so much about your ex, Gale. Just a joke. I love Gale but I do love making fun of him more.

My main goal with his design wat to make it more whimsical. However I was trying to not overdo it. Maybe he is a cool wizard, but at the beginning of the story he is not in the best place figuratively speaking.

I gave him a witch hat, because I am a big fan of witch hats and I do think we should go back to putting them on magic people. We don't do it enough nowadays. Witch hats for magic people in medieval fantasy, witch hats for modern magic people, witch hats for everyone!

Anyway...

I gave him slightly longer hair and made them more wavy - it just suits him more in my opinion.

1/6

Shadowheart is here!

Lae'zel is here!

Wyll is here!

Astarion is here!

Karlach is here!